#so does dom!dean

[winchestermylove]

one of my absolute favorite concepts is sam and dean with a sister.

i like the idea of her being younger than both sam and dean, however my favorite dynamic is her being 2 years younger than dean and 2 years older than sam.

so she can be both a younger and older sibling, dean still has the responsibility of taking care of the other two, and sam is still the annoying little brother.

and when it comes to wincest... her being able to sub for dean and dom for sammy... dean being in charge of both of them,, but her being able to baby sam and turn him into a pathetic teary mess,

makes my brain go brrrr

[demonbloodenthusiast]

dean blaring rock n roll train while driving and he screams "one hot angel, one cool devil" along, except he realises too late that cas and crowley are also in the car with him

[deansbeer]

★ mean streak // dean winchester.

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

synopsis. you're on top this time, chasing your release, but dean's being cruel—taunting, teasing, and making you work for every moment.

warning(s). smut | f!reader | moc!dean | penetration | power dynamics | riding | degradation | rough sex | overstimulation | begging | sub!reader | dom!dean | dean being mean | slight taunting.

kari yaps. i have to thank (so should u) my gorgeous wife for inspiring whatever this is <3 i love yapping away w her about spn & dean all the time. 🤍

you're straddling him, thighs burning as you struggle to keep the rhythm steady, but the look on his face makes it clear he's not about to help you. his hands rest lazily behind his head, biceps flexing just enough to make you clench around him involuntarily. he notices. of course, he notices. his lips curl into that cocky, infuriating smirk that makes your heart race and your body betray you every single time.

"what's the matter, sweetheart?" his voice drips with condescension, low and gravelly in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. "getting tired already? thought you said you could handle me."

he's testing you. he always does. the mark has made him sharper, meaner, but you can't deny how much it turns you on. the way he looks at you now—like you're his to take, to break—should infuriate you. instead, it makes you want to prove him wrong.

you plant your hands on his chest, your nails digging into his skin just enough to wipe that smug grin off his face. "i can handle you," you bite out, your voice breathy but firm.

"then prove it," he drawls, his hips staying maddeningly still beneath you. "come on, sweetheart. show me what you've got."

his cock stretches you perfectly, the thickness of him making every movement feel like an effort, but you refuse to let him see how much he's affecting you. you start to move again, rolling your hips slowly at first. the friction is delicious, but it's not enough—not yet.

his eyes darken as he watches you, his gaze dropping to where you're taking him in over and over again. he licks his lips, and the sight of his tongue makes you falter for a second, your movements stuttering.

"pathetic," he mutters, his voice like gravel. his hands finally leave their lazy perch behind his head, and for a moment, you think he's going to grab your hips, take over, give you what you need. but instead, he folds his hands behind his head again, smirking up at you like the devil himself.

"you're gonna have to work harder than that if you want to come," he says, his words cutting through you like a challenge. "unless you want to beg me to take over."

your jaw clenches, heat rising to your cheeks. you hate how much his words affect you, how much they make your body burn with need. you bite back a retort, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

you start to move faster, your thighs trembling as you bounce on his cock, the wet sounds of your arousal filling the room. his chest rises and falls steadily beneath your hands, and you can feel the way he's holding himself back. you know he wants to take control—he always does—but he's making you work for it tonight.

"that's it," he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. "keep going. make yourself come on my cock."

his words send a jolt of electricity through you, your movements growing more desperate as you chase the pleasure building inside you. the angle is perfect, the head of his cock brushing against that spot inside you that makes your vision blur.

but it's not enough. you need more.

"dean," you gasp, your voice cracking as you grind down harder, trying to get him deeper.

"what?" he asks, feigning innocence. "you need something, sweetheart? use your words."

you glare down at him, your nails digging into his chest hard enough to leave marks. "stop being an ass and help me," you snap.

his grin widens, and he lets out a low chuckle that sends a shiver down your spine. "not how this works, baby. you wanna come? you're gonna have to earn it."

you hate him. you love him. you hate how much you love him.

but you're not about to back down. not now.

you lean back, changing the angle, your hands sliding down to grip his thighs for support. the new position makes you cry out, the head of his cock hitting deeper, harder with every bounce.

"fuck, sweetheart," he groans, his composure slipping for just a second. his hands twitch, like he's fighting the urge to grab you, to flip you over and take control. but he doesn't. instead, he watches you with dark, hungry eyes, his jaw tight as he drinks in the sight of you falling apart on top of him.

"look at you," he mutters, his voice rough. "so fucking desperate. you love this, don't you? love making yourself come while i just sit here and watch."

you shake your head, but the whimper that escapes your lips betrays you.

"liar," he says, his tone almost teasing. "your pussy's dripping, sweetheart. she's soaking me all over."

you can feel it, the slickness making it easier to move, even as your thighs burn and your body trembles. you're so close, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, but you need just a little more.

"please," you whine, your pride cracking under the weight of your desperation.

his eyes narrow, and he tilts his head like he didn't quite hear you. "what was that?"

you swallow hard, your hands gripping his thighs tighter. "fuck, please, baby," you repeat, louder this time.

he smirks, clearly pleased with your surrender. "please what?"

"touch me," you beg, your voice shaking. "please, i need—"

his hands are on you in an instant, gripping your hips so tightly you know you'll have bruises tomorrow. he finally thrusts up into you, his cock slamming into you so hard and deep you see stars.

"that what you needed?" he growls, his grip on your hips guiding you as he starts to fuck up into you, his pace brutal.

you can't speak. you can barely breathe. all you can do is nod, your nails raking down his chest as he takes over, his hips snapping up to meet yours with every thrust.

"fucking knew you couldn't do it on your own," he mutters, his voice strained. "you need me, don't you? need me to make you come."

"yeah," you gasp, your head falling back as the pleasure builds to a fever pitch. "yes, yes, yes—"

he sits up suddenly, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you against him as his other hand slides between your bodies. his fingers find your clit, rubbing tight, desperate circles that send you hurtling toward the edge.

"come for me," he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. "come all over my cock, sweetheart. let me feel you."

his words are your undoing. you cry out his name as your orgasm crashes over you, your body shaking as waves of pleasure ripple through you. he doesn't stop, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release.

"fuck, fuck, fuck—" he groans, his grip on you tightening as he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills into you.

you collapse against him, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. his arms stay wrapped around you, his lips brushing against your shoulder as the two of you come down together.

"good girl," he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost tender. "knew you could handle me."

you want to say something snarky in response, but you're too spent, too blissed out to care. instead, you let yourself sink into him, his warmth and his steady heartbeat grounding you as the world fades away.

[hannieween]

a date with the devil | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: gang leader jeonghan, bad boy jeonghan › genres: smut (18+) › word count: 26.1k

› warnings READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️: shamefully stole a line from the show daredevil, gore, guns and other weapons, blood, injuries, descriptive violence, dub con, glamorized gangster shit, toxic and dark themes, cheating, yandere undertones, jeonghan is a jerk in the beginning, smut with plot, dirty talk, hard dom jeonghan, really subby reader, pussy drunk jeonghan, spit kink, degradation kink, voyeurism, some praise kink, impact play, instant love, fucking with clothes on, multiple unprotected p in v scenes, cumming on skin, creampies, fingering, breeding kink, pull out method, creampie, possessive jeonghan, manhandling rough fucking with love, dumbification, hannie is kind of insane and reader is too, backshots. brat taming: orgasm denial, spanking, humiliation. use of the word slut, pet names: baby, baby girl, good girl, pretty, sweetheart (hers) sir (jeonghan)

› 🎧: kazino – bibi | honey! – tabber ft. dean | control me – colde | bubbly – ethan low | i need you around – yugyeom ft. devita | movies – devita | 007 – tabber ft. syd | ghosts – highvyn | the killa – txt | hold me – hojean | shut the fuck up, that's mine – tabber | bonnie & clyde – dean

› this one shot is part of my hannieween fest/kinktober special!

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂 › author's note: hey! hello! hi! this is the second part of my hannieweenfest/kinktober! this has been really fun so far! this is super self-indulgent — like i didn't even plan for this to reach these many words. so, i hope you like this! buckle up (●'◡'●) › author's note: big thanks to booki @kwanisms for helping me come up with seungcheol's nickname 🙂‍↕️ › another author's note: some bits of this are rushed and i apologize. tumblr is a bitch that did not let me expand on my ideas as i wanted to 😭 it's not thoroughly proofread but pls enjoy

› one, double-crossed

THE WALK FROM YOUR APARTMENT TO THE WORKSHOP WAS THIRTY MINUTES. You hugged yourself tightly as you hastily walked on the sidewalk, shooting a glance both ways before crossing the street, high-heels clacking at your wake.

Aside from the few incoming cars and the trucks that stopped by every corner to collect waste, the night was quiet. If you kept your pace, no one would see you. If no one saw you, no one would care that you were gone for the night.

You kept on the sidewalk, going under a bridge, the echoes from the upcoming cars rattling your head. Dull, pale streetlights blinded your vision as you tilted your head skyward, trying not to miss your step. God, what am I doing? But before you could try and justify this, you quickened your pace.

Reflecting was not going to work. It never does with these guys.

You recognized Kim Mingyu by the dark matte helmet he was taking off. His fingers unclicked the strap beneath his chin, placing his hands at the sides of the helmet to pull his head out. He let out a relieved sigh, mouth falling open as he ruffled his long dark hair.

His gaze found you at the clacking of your quick footsteps on the concrete. “What are you doing here?”

“You could at least say hi first,” you snapped, stopping before his Kawasaki Ninja. A black powerful bike, sleek, elegant, and faster than a race car.  

He was known for the loud revving that swept through the streets at night. You knew him, however, as one of the gang’s most trusted members. Quick-witted. The muscle of the group.

“What I’m going to say to you is goodbye,” he hissed, darting his gaze around, making sure you were indeed alone. “You can’t be here.”

“I need to go inside. Do you know what will happen if someone sees me here?” you retorted, leaning closer to the bike to no use. The man was so tall you had to keep your chin up to look at him in the eyes.

“Yeah, I fucking do,” he whispered sharply. He snapped his head to his side, motioning to the other way. “Now, go home. You’ll find nothing here.”

You huffed loudly at him, rolling your eyes. “All of you are so useless.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Mingyu said through his teeth, making it hard for you to listen. You were already turning away, walking down the side of a building.

A row of motorbikes were parked outside the workshop, making it seem like the place was packed inside. But as you passed by, the shutter doors were rolled up so you could get a quick glimpse inside. Vernon, the guy that gathered intel on the streets to communicate for the gang, sat alone on a rusty old couch, sipping on a can of pop.

The man arched an eyebrow at you, but remained quiet, his eyes following you as you passed the entrance and turned to the back of the building, where you heard the real workshop was.

As soon as you pushed the door open, you knew that you should have not walked in there. All your confidence, all your determination to get this done, dissipated in a second. The room was dark, smelling like grease and something else that made your nose itch. 

Jeon Wonwoo stood up abruptly the instant he saw you come in, the loud noise of his chair falling making you jolt. “Get out of here,” he snapped.

“Where is he?” you asked, keeping your tone as flat as possible.

Wonwoo was someone who made you nervous naturally, being the one that was known to be the gang leader’s second in command. The one that aside from being a drug-runner, moonlighted as the gang’s spy. 

“Get the fuck out,” he muttered, taking two big steps your way, grabbing you by the shoulders, and pushing you to the door.

You tried to slap his hands off you, “No, tell me where Seungcheol is.”  

At the sound of his boss’s name, he retreated willfully. “In the back,” he replied, bewildered. “Why are you looking for him?”

“I need to talk to him,” you muttered, your voice breaking a bit. “My sister has gone missing, and I think he knows where she might be.” You read his gaze, just as he was reading yours. “Didn’t you know she’s missing?”

“What the fuck,” Wonwoo said under his breath. And in his confusion, he made a mistake.

Jeon Wonwoo, the guy you knew to be sagacious, flashed a look at one of the doors to his left. And that is where you turned your next step towards.

“No, wait,” he muttered. “Fuck!” he exclaimed quietly as you turned the doorknob and pushed through. 

It was a storage room. One wall was covered with industrial racks holding duffel bags. There was a table. You were not sure what you had thought you would find as you took in your surroundings. But you found the smell that was caused your nose to itch.

There were two men in the room. One was sitting far back to where you stood. He had short black hair, a fringe that sit parted on his forehead. The other, closer to the entrance, had pale blond hair, long enough that the front strands reached his cheekbones. 

This was Choi Seungcheol.

Seungcheol arched one eyebrow at you in the doorway. “Can I help you?” he spoke slowly, motioning a hand at Wonwoo who was standing closely.

The man exited the room, closing the door behind him.

“Y-yeah,” you croaked, finding your voice. “I want to talk to you,” you sent a meaningful look at a man sitting across from Seungcheol, implying you needed to talk alone.

Yoon Jeonghan sat on the other chair. He rested his elbow on the table and his chin in the palm of his hand. His brown eyes were expressionless, but you knew he was known to be like that. The book-keeper to the notorious boss Choi Seungcheol, his best friend and confidant.

“What about?” now he was raising both eyebrows, not noticing your unspoken message.

“Ki-ki��” you stuttered, looking between them nervously.

“Eh?” Seungcheol made a face of annoyance. “Why are you here?” he asked with a heavy tone. “You know you can’t just walk in here, you know that, right?”

Seungcheol placed the dismantled gun on the table, throwing the dirty rag on its side with a frustrated sigh.

Oh, you were well aware that you could not just walk into Seungcheol’s workshop and expect to come out scatheless. Or to come out of there at all. Choi Seungcheol was unnerving, intimidating. He had a reputation of being ruthless and calculated, once wiping out a whole gang in a single night, earning the nickname The Shadow of Daegu.

Part of his reputation also stemmed from the fact that not a single gunshot was fired. He handled everything with his hands.

“You’re so damn clueless,” Seungcheol hissed, reclining back on his chair. “Look, kid,” he quirked up a thick eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but you’re not going to find anything in here.”

“I… I…” you searched for words, you had a whole thing rehearsed. But once standing upon The Choi Seungcheol, stupefaction swallowed you whole.

“Go,” the blond-haired man sneered, crossing his big arms over his chest. “And don’t come back.”

“I need to know where my sister is. Kiki’s been radio-silent for three days,” you blurted, your voice airy as if you had just used all of the air in your lungs to get those words out.

“And you presume I know where she is?” Seungcheol paused, linking his fingers together and placing his hands on his middle.

You made a motion to step closer but stopped short when the man bristled. The other man did not move, he did not speak, and you were sure, he had not even blinked. “No, but Hyunjun does.”

Seungcheol sent his gaze around the room as if looking for his fucks to give, shrugging. “You’re failing to make a point.”

“I think Hyunjun suspects I want to leave him,” you said through a ragged breath, it was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. You knew you were on the brink of falling into a panic attack. “And he won’t tell me where Kiki is. I believe he’s holding her hostage, so I won’t break our engagement.”

“Ever heard of a lawyer? Some common people could handle that for you,” Seungcheol arched one eyebrow.

“You of all people know that won’t fucking happen,” you spat, crossing your arms to show some assertiveness, but deep down you were doing it to hold yourself together. “I do that, and he kills her. I won’t even get close to finding someone who even wants to go against him.”

“Again, the point,” Seungcheol punctuated, lowering his face but keeping his heavy gaze piercing your face.

“I want you to kill him.”

Seungcheol did not pause, scoffing right away. “One, you have balls to come here,” he sneered, lip curling slightly over his perfect set of teeth. “Two, who the fuck do you think you are to boss me around? And three, I don’t know how you found this place, but I do want to see you getting the fuck out of here before things turn drastic.”

You were used to receiving threats, almost daily, but being so worn out over Kiki’s disappearance had made you more irrational than you would have liked to be in a place like this.

“Please,” your voice brimmed with sorrow to the point that your limbs had started to tremble. “I’ll do anything.”

“Why don’t you kill him yourself?” Seungcheol drawled. “Why should I get my hands dirty?”

This is not going according to plan. Between the buzzing in your ears and your pounding heart, you knew something was extremely wrong. This is supposed to be Hyunjun’s rival, the only person in the whole city who would want him dead.

Seungcheol sat up straight, the foldable chair creaking underneath his weight. “Now go, before I have you removed,” he shooed at you with his hand, grabbing his gun and the rag to continue cleaning it.

You stood there, hopeless, helpless.

One thing that bothered you was, Yoon Jeonghan stared at you the whole time. Even as your tears started to roll down your cheeks, he stayed cold, expressionless. You were sure you had not seen him blink even once. It was as if he might miss out on some important detail. But you were the only thing to look at, nothing interesting.

You were crying, sobs broke from within you, flooding the room. You were sure you looked lost, like a kid that just lost a parent in the open street.

“Wonwoo,” Seungcheol called, eyes set on his work.

“Yes?” Wonwoo opened the door, and something told you he had been standing behind it the whole time.

“Show her out,” Seungcheol pointed at you with the tip of his nose, while his hands worked on putting his gun together. “And check that no one followed her here.”

“Yes, boss,” Wonwoo said, his hand grabbing you by the elbow. “Let’s go.”

“No, wait!” you cried out, face tearstained. You grabbed at the door frame, holding on for dear life as the man switched his grip from your arm to your waist, dragging you out of the room. “Please!”

“Fucking hell–,” Wonwoo grunted, managing to lift you by the waist, letting you go once you were out of the workshop. “I fucking warned you.”

“Let go, let go, let go,” you banged your hands on his hard chest, just as his hands released their tight grip on your waist with little to no care. As if he were disposing of something grimy and nasty.

“Go home,” he said, looking back to make sure no one else was listening. “Why the fuck did it occur to you this was a good place to seek help?”

“You won’t understand,” you plastered your palms against your cheeks, wiping your tears. “No one will.”

“Go home,” he reiterated. “And watch your back.”

You knew he did not mean to watch your back from him or any of Seungcheol’s people. You raised your teary eyes to find his cold stare. “He will kill her,” you declared with a sorrowful tone. “And it’s all my fault.”

“You knew what you were getting her into when you got engaged to someone like Hyunjun,” he murmured, and even if his statement was dull, there was some pity shining in his eyes. “Go.”

You turned on your heel on the wet pavement, walking away from the workshop. Wonwoo’s words resonated in your brain with each step you made, turning the corner and then into a deserted alley, deciding to wait.

There was nowhere to go now. You could not go back after crossing enemy territory. Even if Hyunjun did not know where you were, he would wonder why you even left the apartment.

If he started suspecting your plans were afoot, you were for sure a dead woman.

Wonwoo was wrong. You did not know what you were getting yourself into when you got engaged two years ago to that monster. You knew what he dedicated his time to, of course. But you did not know how insane he was when he proposed to you, and you said yes.

Even then, you did not have a choice.

› two, damned if you do

This part of the city was usually safe, and quiet. You wondered if Seungcheol and his gang made it so that no one would suspect that this was where his headquarters were. The workshop was found between a butchery and a flower shop, so it made sense for the place to be in this section of the neighborhood. It was the least place they would find suspicious.  

It was a Monday night. The only people strolling by the streets were people going back home from work, not noticing you hiding in an alley. Even if they did, no one would care.

You banged the back of your head on the wall repeatedly, trying to come up with a plan. “Think, think,” you whispered into the midnight air. It was fresh with light rain, droplets of water falling on your head.

The loud roaring of engines announced them before you even saw them pass by. One by one you counted, one, two, and another two motorbikes running down the street, turning left and, you assumed, into the heart of the city. A big black SUV rolled on closely behind them, making your heart drop, that was Choi Seungcheol’s van.

You tried to become one with the wall behind you, pressing yourself into it. You shut your eyes tightly as the sound of wheels rolling on the sidewalk came closer. Vernon skillfully skateboarded down the street. Even if the pavement was wet, the man did not slow down or go on foot.

The moment he disappeared from your view, was when the second part of your plan started rolling. Granted, it felt more like you were improvising, but you needed to do something.

So you went back, hating every second as you rushed to the workshop again, going to the back of the old building. With Vernon, Mingyu and Wonwoo being gone, you had a chance to open the door freely, finding a place to hide.

The first part of the workshop was just that, a simple space for mechanical repairs. There were two doors, one where you had your conversation with Seungcheol, the other you assumed was a washroom.

So you went back outside, shivering from both the cold creeping up to your bones and the rush from being practically in the belly of the beast. You found a large trash container, auto parts dumped on top of the lid.

You treaded quietly around it, crouching down next to it. You thanked the midnight rain that washed away any smells from your new hiding place, also thanking whoever decided to throw away such large amounts of garbage to use them as cover.

The door to the workshop was pushed open, making your limbs go rigid and you sucked in a breath.

A lighter rasped a few times, the sound of flames burning paper caught your attention. Yoon Jeonghan drew in a large intake from his cigarette, his eyes narrowing as he swallowed the smoke, then quickly blew it out of his mouth.

If you can’t see him, he can’t see you. You tried to convince yourself, knowing damn well that it was a lie. You stayed stiff, holding your breath as the man paced on the pavement, smoking his cigarette, cursing under his puff of smoke when it started raining harder.

The rain pattered on the lid of the trash container, and the auto parts surrounding it. But it also made a soft sound as each heavy drop landed on your jacket. The sound was not enough for Jeonghan to notice, but it did add to your nerves.

The man paused once, and you got ready to make a run for it. But as he kept strolling down the alley, you relaxed.

Yoon Jeonghan was just a bookkeeper. That was how you knew him, as the guy who kept a record of all the shipments arriving on the bay, the ongoing train cargo, and so on. It made sense for the accountant to stay behind, while Mingyu and Wonwoo went on their operations and Vernon to make his plug shit.

But Seungcheol? Would he go too?

“What’s the problem?”

Jeonghan’s voice broke through the sound of the rain, making you gasp, hand flying to cover your mouth. The man paced back and forth, humming pensively as he lifted the cigarette to his mouth once again.

“Wasn’t he on our payroll?” he asked with a quiet, but dangerous tone. “I know he’s on our payroll, but did you remind him of that?”

Some things have started to fall into place. You stopped covering your mouth placing both hands on the side of the container for support, leaning forward to see him walking in circles.

“No, no. Leave him be. I don’t want to do anything at the moment, I just want to know where the fucking ship is with my cargo,” he gritted at the phone, his thumb and ringer finger pinching the bridge of his nose, cigarette still safe between his middle and pointer. “I don’t fucking care, Seungcheol. I’ll burn this city down to find that fucking rat if that’s what it takes.”

He took one last drag of his cigarette, rolling his eyes to the sky as he nodded his head to each of the muffled words spoken by Seungcheol on the other side of the call.

“Yes, mmn. Mmn. Right, you do that. See you here. Bye.” He slid his phone into the pocket of his black denim jeans, sighing out his frustration.

You carefully and ever so slowly pressed back against the wall again, processing what you had heard, knowing why you were confused when you saw Seungcheol leaving the workshop along with the two drug runners. 

“The fuck are you doing out here?”

Your heart jumped to your throat, but you did not dare move.

You heard his footsteps crushing the gravel on the pavement as he approached you, the soles of his boots matching each pounding of your heart as he stood before you.

Jeonghan tilted his head back a little, eyes narrowly searching your face as you gaped at him. “I’m talking to you,” he arched one eyebrow.

“I… I’m not hiding,” idiot.

“You’re either on a suicide mission or got nowhere to go,” he said pointedly. When you gave him no answer, he hummed in amusement. “Or both,” he decided, nodding his head, and discarding his cigarette in a puddle of rain. “Come, you’ll catch a cold out here.”

He turned away from where you crouched, the heavy clanking of the door being pulled open startled you even more.

Fear settled deep down in the pit of your belly, twisting your guts. Being in this world meant that you were in constant danger. You have learned to tune in to your instincts, but when your instincts are telling you to run away all the time, it gets harder to pay attention.

“Unless you want to stay there, which Seungcheol won’t like,” he shrugged, motioning you inside.

You rose to your feet, which tingled once you put them to use, each step you took towards the man bringing your senses to a full nerve-rack.

Jeonghan closed the door once you were inside. “Sit,” he offered, pointing to a rusty foldable chair. “I’d offer you water, but I don’t trust the pipes in this retched place.”

“It’s okay,” you croaked, feeling weirder every second you were in the same room as him.

“You were planning on hiding out to… what end, exactly?”

“I already told Seungcheol,” you shrugged, deciding to sit down on the chair in the middle of the workshop. “I won’t be saying anything else until he comes back.”

“Mmn,” he hummed in understanding. “What makes you think he’ll cooperate this time.”

“I don’t know,” you said, playing coy, but you were telling the truth when you added, “I’m improvising at this point.”

Your gaze stopped at the drain in the corner of the space, a hose mounted on the wall. A thought crossed your mind: have people been tortured here?

Jeonghan was acting odd. Another thing you have learned living in this world is: be aware of the men who pose to be meek and quiet. You would know that even if you had not been raised in this dark life. 

He was being strangely amicable. And that fired up every single alarm in your head.

The man was clad in dark clothes. Tight denim jeans, chelsea boots, and a leather bomber jacket. His dark and short hair tussled carelessly, and was wet from standing under the rain.

Jeonghan sent one look at you, dropping his act when he made note of your scrutiny. He sighed once again, but this was resignation. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he walked closer to where you sat.

“The clever one is the one who plays the fool,” Jeonghan said, kneeling so he could level with you. “And you… you’re no fool, are ya?”

What? The only thing that came out of your mouth was the shaky sound of the breath you took.

Yoon Jeonghan pinched your chin with two fingers. Like a hunter who just found its prey cute. “It’s easy to mask your cleverness with that pretty face,” he commented while standing back, his hands sinking into the pockets of his black trousers. “Everyone thinks that being pretty makes you dumb. But these guys are ugly and dumb for not making sure you had gone away.”

“What?” you blurted, your voice merely a whisper. Beneath your confusion, a thought forced you to continue playing the innocent. “I… I’m—I just want to talk…”

“You want to talk to Seungcheol?” he asked, tilting his head to one side, standing in front of you so close you could see the drops of water on his jacket.

As if the man had heard his name, Seungcheol entered the workshop, wearing a frown on his face. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“We need to start thinking about what to do with friendly intruders,” Jeonghan tutted, smirking at your reaction. “What?”

“Don’t call me that,” you muttered, standing up from the rusty chair and smoothing out your clothes with a huff. “I don’t like being patronized.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in shock. And much to your surprise, you saw fear in his eyes. “How long has she been in here?”

“What did you hear, sweetheart? When you were outside,” Jeonghan asked, and for a moment, you thought that maybe your earlier suspicions were wrong.

“I heard nothing.”

The answer just flew past their ears. Both men remained impassive, waiting for you to give them the real answer.

“I heard everything,” you sighed. 

“Your sister is dead. It’s easier to give her up for dead and move on,” Seungcheol spoke out, a stern look on his face. Though the statement was heavy, you knew it was not true.

Mingyu and Wonwoo entered the workshop. As soon as they saw your face, they exchanged a look.

“What?! No, it isn’t,” you blurted, face scrunching in annoyance. “And I know she isn’t dead. If she were, Hyunjun would have displayed her dead body in front of me in some way. Holding Kiki as hostage gives him use over me. That is why I want him dead.”

“Seriously?” Mingyu sighed, shaking his head, and dropping on a seat in the corner of the room.

Wonwoo decided to do the same, though his movements were measured as he sat beside him. “What a nice fiancé you got there.”

Three men looked confused. As the seconds went by, the theory solidified in your mind. Yoon Jeonghan remained expressionless, hands deep in his pockets, his gaze never deterring away from you, again.

“Leverage over you,” Seungcheol repeated with a flat tone again.

You realized it was not a question, but you nodded anyway. “There is a reason why I haven’t gotten married to him yet. He wants to have my name. My dad’s name. I won’t allow it.”

“That fucking lunatic,” Seungcheol said under his breath, running his fingers through his long blond hair. “I swear I’ll fucking kill him.”

“So you’ll do it? You’ll kill him?” you crossed your arms, darting a look at the only man in the room who did not seem confused one bit.

Jeonghan finally moved, opening his mouth to let out a raspy sigh. “Okay, so what is your plan?” he crossed his arms, shrugging when you did not give him an answer right away. “You must have planned something when you came in here thinking Seungcheol would help. You have something to offer.”

Seungcheol cast a curious look at Jeonghan, arching one eyebrow but when he did not dare to bite back at Jeonghan’s offhanded comment, you knew you were right all along. 

“You’re the leader,” you muttered in amazement.

Jeonghan pursed his lower lip, bobbing his head once. “Which leads me to think that not even Hyunjun’s aware of this. But that doesn’t surprise me, either he’s too stupid to realize, or he doesn’t have that kind of pillow talk with you.”

You bristled. In this world, you were used to coming across all kinds of people, none of them had manners, or even one ounce of tact when speaking to women. Or to people in general.

But the truth was, you did not have any kind of pillow talk with your fiancé. He would much rather spend his nights in the bed of other women than share the same space as you. It had been a while since he did so much as kiss you on the cheek.

However, you were nosy. And you built your case before you could make a run for it and come to the workshop.

Seeing your reaction, Jeonghan smirked. “So, both?” he approached you with a steady step. “Well then, are you going to tell me that little plan of yours?”

“You mentioned a problem with your shipments in the bay,” you said promptly, even while your whole body shook with unbearable anxiety, you pushed yourself to blurt the next words. “I know why.”

Jeonghan bore into you with his dark gaze, his lips parted, and you knew that his interest had locked in on you. “I’m listening.”

“I need your part of the deal,” you said. Being inches closer to his face, you could spot the mole on his cheek. “I won’t say unless you give me your word that you’ll get rid of him.”

“Get rid of him or kill him?”

“Semantics,” you rolled your eyes.

“No, no,” he had lowered his tone too, and with his voice, it seemed like he was cooing at you: “I could lock him in a warehouse for the rest of his life or I could throw him into the deepest ocean with his hands tied behind his back. Those two are not the same. Your choice.”

“Kill him,” you uttered at once.

“And you’ll tell me every little thing you know.” His dark gaze shone, even in the badly lit room. You saw the fascination burning in his eyes.

“To the last bit,” you promised.

And that was the moment when you knew. Yoon Jeonghan was crazy. Even if the thought had crossed your head some seconds before, this was what solidified it. If he was as cunning as he gave you the impression, then he knew you were just as crazy too.

“Deal.”

› three, damned if you don’t

That same night you struck your deal with Yoon Jeonghan, he started to work with the information you gave him. Though you knew how to play your cards, and did not give him everything you knew at once. You needed to keep yourself safe until you knew Kiki was safe, and far away from this shitty life.

“You’re going to go back home,” Jeonghan instructed, leaning back on the chair, and crossing his arms over his chest.

Your eyes widened in fear, even sitting across from him, he was unnerving for so many reasons. “Bu-but I can’t go back there—,”

He raised one hand to stop your protest. “You need to fool him. Make him think that everything is under his control still,” he raised his gaze to find Seungcheol standing by the doorway, hands clasped tightly on his back. “Have someone drop her by her apartment, do this quietly.”

“Are you seriously trusting her?” Seungcheol cocked one perfectly thick eyebrow.

“Do I have another option?” Jeonghan retorted, blinking slowly at the man. “So far, your boys haven’t come up with useful intel. We hadn’t got a single scrap of intel until she showed up at our door. If you have any suggestions, make them right now.”

“We should not let her go, then,” Seungcheol debated.

“It’s the third time you speak as if I weren’t in the room,” you intervened.

Then you saw something you were not expecting. Yoon Jeonghan smirked. The corners of his lips raised slightly, but you caught the sight. And the effect it had on you was like eating candy for the first time. It was exciting, like a rush of fresh oxygen to the brain.

“You will have to come back to me. Back and forth, from your home to here,” Jeonghan murmured, driving his gaze from Seungcheol to your eyes. “Indefinitely.”

“What, are you going to keep me here?” you asked, sending a short glance around the place.

“So you’re not upset you have to stay with us but upset about being in the workshop?” Jeonghan arched one eyebrow bemusedly.

“Well, I’d rather be literally anywhere else than with that animal,” you huffed, trying not to roll your eyes. “Yes, this place is horrible. It smells.”

“You’re going to take the most important stuff and hide it,” Jeonghan added, ignoring your comments. “Now, I don’t want you to be obvious. Just grab your passport and I don’t know, your phone charger, put them somewhere within reach in case you need to run.”

“Not even clothes?”

“You can buy that shit, don’t be ridiculous,” he grimaced.

“How will I buy that shit?” you bit back, leaning over the table. “I don’t have any money, he took everything from me.”

This is how you knew these people to be. Cold-blooded, cunning, calculated. You always believed that the head of the clan was Choi Seungcheol because of his way of handling things. He had a reputation, and his gang did too, naturally. You knew his gang from climbing quickly to be the rival to your dad’s.

And you were known as the fiancé to your dad’s second in command. Not as his daughter. You were a prized possession. A trophy soon-to-be-wife.

“But not your name,” Jeonghan remembered keenly. “You said that. Why?”

You bit back your tongue, sighing through your nose before mustering up the courage to give in a little bit more. “Because that way he will have access to everything my father left me,” you blurted out. “He wouldn’t have shit without my father. And he won’t have shit without me.”

“Your father?”

“Hyunjun doesn’t have an empire, he doesn’t have shit. Everything he has, it’s thanks to that old man,” now it was your turn to cross your arms, deciding not to give any more.

“Mmph,” Jeonghan smirked. “So you’re the iron fist’s kid? I never knew he had kids.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you scoffed. “My dad’s a psycho but he kept me safe. His mistake was letting Hyunjun into our lives.”

“Your dad’s dead? This is news to me,” Seungcheol tilted his head, now totally captured by the information he was getting.

Your chest burned, you knew you were crossing a line you would not be able to come back from. “Close to,” you whispered. “Hyunjun is filling in for him.”

“But you’re his heiress,” Jeonghan pieced together. “What about your sister?”

“Kiki’s not my sister,” you confessed, blinking the hot tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “She’s the only friend I have. The only friend I’ve ever had.”

“You would go to these lengths for someone who isn’t blood-related,” Jeonghan uttered.

You did not even bother to elaborate. Jeonghan did not need an answer, he was not even posing a question.

Jeonghan turned his head to the man standing behind him. “Get to work,” he told Seungcheol.

“I’ll bring the car around,” Seungcheol told you, motioning to the door to get you back home. He exited the room, leaving you with Jeonghan.

You stood up, and he followed waiting for you before the door as you approached it. “How do I know I can trust you?” you asked him.

“I want him dead as much as you do, sweetheart,” he whispered, the ghost of a smile showing on his lips. “But if it gives you more peace, then I’ll offer you this, you’ll be with me every step of the way. No secrets, you’ll be informed of everything.”

His words left you stunned for a long moment. Jeonghan had proven to be as secretive as your father, even competing at that.  And not only that, but you were also never included in Hyunjun’s plans, he never talked to you about anything that was going on in his life. You knew your reaction was visible because the smirk on his face grew more defined.

“Now, I’ll return the question to you. How do I know I can trust you?” his voice was quiet and velvety. But you knew men like him, you knew that he was planning more than he was letting it show.

“I’m being honest,” you shrugged, feeling like there was nothing more to your answer that you could give him.

“Honest won’t make you smart, sweetheart,” he drawled, his gaze dancing on the features of your face, setting every nerve ending in your body on fire.

“That’s all I have left, Jeonghan,” you whispered. 

“Fine, then I’m content with that,” he said. “Now go, I don’t want our plans ruined before we could even put them to work.”

Efficient. You walked out of the room with nothing more to say. Jeonghan stood in the doorway watching you go. In so little time, he showed you he was someone you could trust. You liked that. 

Plans take time. Soon, you would say goodbye to the last rains of September and welcome the snows of December. You learned that time forgives nothing, and waits for no one.

Hyunjun leaned back on his armchair, one elbow on the arm, reclining one of the temples of his head on his finger as he looked at the screen of his phone.

You used to think Hyunjun was attractive. He had a long, straight nose, full lips, dark hair, and a cold stare. Nothing in his face nor demeanor had softness. He was never sweet to you, nor kind.

And he had not looked at you for the entirety of the lunch, and you did not want him to.

“Any news from Kiki?” you asked, breaking the silence that was nearly choking you out.

Your fiancé dragged his gaze from his phone to where you sat, at the other end of the table, meters away from him. Your food was untouched.

“She’s having a nice stay in Greece,” he let you know in a stilted tone. “Last I phoned she could speak some sentences. I’m pretty sure she knows more now.”

I hate you. You had to play a fool every time you were around him, making him believe that you did not know why you could not talk to Kiki. You did not let it show that you knew of his rivals, of his deals with the cops and every single judge of the city.

He thought you were happily content at his side. Happy and deluded about his love affairs, the trail of bodies dropping around him.

“Will I be able to speak to her?” you rasped, clearing your throat, you raised the glass of orange juice to your lips.

“If you remain silent I’ll think about it,” he said with an annoyed tone, staring back at you.

“I’d like to talk to her,” you gritted with a forced sugary tone, masking your hate with another gulp of orange juice.

“Don’t you trust me, love?” he discarded his phone on the table, stretching his arms in a snappy manner to adjust the sleeves of his dress shirt.

Hyunjun was about to leave on a business trip to somewhere overseas. All you had to do to get this information was hack his phone. You had become so stealthy that he did not even know that you already knew every single one of his passcodes. You had even memorized his passport number.

“Of course,” you whispered. “I just miss her dearly. It’s her birthday soon.”

“You could talk to her on her birthday,” he gave you a stern look. “If you remain quiet.”

It was not her birthday soon. But your stupid fiancé did not know that. Though you kept your mouth shut, resorting to toying with the food on your plate until he rose to his feet and left to the master bedroom of the nice penthouse you shared as a couple.

“Tsk,” you spat.

Your phone buzzed in your lap, and you moved your gaze from your food to the screen, discreetly reading the text message you got.

[unsaved number] Yongsan station. 1 hour.

The reaction you got from your body was nearly involuntary. Your tummy twisted, your heart stammering rapidly in your chest.

Hyunjun came back to the dining room, collecting his phone where he left it. “I’ll be going now,” he said flatly, fixing the buttons of his collar.

“Want me to come with?” you muttered, faking a meek look at him.

“No,” he said. “I’ll be busy, it’s no holiday trip… we’ll have time for that, when we get married.”

You kept your gaze fixated on him. “I’ll wait for you, then,” you said. As if you could go anywhere.

If he registered what you said, he made no comment about it. You watched as Hyunjun stood beside you, leaning over to grab your face with his hand, forcing a hard kiss on your lips. Then he grabbed his jacket and the travel suitcase he had readied before the door and left.

You sat frozen for a bit, hand on your palpitating chest as you processed what had just happened. He’s your fiancé for fuck’s sake. Why did a kiss rattle you so much? It’s not like it was the first time he kissed you. But it certainly felt wrong; not only because you did not want to be kissed by him but because you ached to be kissed. Just not by him.

Some moments passed before stood up abruptly, chair squeaking on the faux marble floor as you ran to lock the front door, rushing to the window that gave you the view to the gate of the apartment building and waiting.

It was not until you saw his black BMW leaving that you carried on changing your clothes, starting by removing your silk robes and undoing the hairpin tying your hair together. You chose a warm sweater, jeans, and boots, completing your outfit with a jacket for the snow. You had long forgotten to look nice, you were only thinking of being efficient.

In the months you had been constructing your ploy, you had also crafted a routine for cases like this. You cleaned the table, did the dishes, and tidied your room. But you made it a rule to leave a mug with tea on your bedside table, a lip-stained napkin sitting beside it. On top of that, you also made sure to toss a blanket on the side of the bed.

You kept a copy of your apartment door in your pocket, leaving your original key on the kitchen counter.

And lastly, you would take your engagement ring, sliding it onto your finger, itching to get it off immediately.

You opened an umbrella as soon as you got out of the building, taking the fastest route to Yongsan station, which was less than a ten-minute walk. But you liked to be early.

You snuck some glances over your shoulders every so often, trying to keep your heart rate steady as you quickened your footing. Even as the snow fell on the city, the station was packed with people, though it was no surprise to you, given it was a rush hour.

But it being crowded provided some sense of security for you. You took the stairs up to one of the bridges near by, deciding to stay there to keep watch for a sign, a messenger, or a familiar face. You were dying for it to be the latter.

[unsaved number] car, four o clock

You desperately looked around, rushing down the stairs with little care to watch your step. You almost slipped your foot on one step, but got to the sidewalk safely, opening the door to a black sedan with its blinkers on.

“Do you fucking care about your safety?” Seungcheol spat once you slid on the passenger’s seat. “You almost got yourself killed!”

“Good morning to you too, Seungcheol.”

The man’s nostrils flared. “I mean what am I supposed to do if you fucking snap your neck in the middle of the street?”

“I don’t know. What would gangster Seungcheol do, call one-one-two?” you mused, biting your lower lip to mask your smile.

He rolled his eyes, blinking rapidly. “Fucking put your seatbelt on,” he hissed, moving his hand to the gear stick, shifting it before the car started moving. “One-one-two, tch.”

You smiled quietly, crossing the belt over your chest, clicking it softly once you secured it. “Are you taking me to Jeonghan?” you asked promptly.

This had been your modus operandi for the past few months. You would stay home, watch your fiancé’s every move, sleuthing on his business as much as you could. Then you would get a text message every two weeks or so, sometimes to check in on you, sometimes to take you in.

The times you were taken in were the best.

“Yeah,” Seungcheol said with ease. In all this time, you had earned his trust with little to no effort since all you had to do was follow the plan and be honest.

“To his home?” you asked once you realized you were heading north.

“He’s not in the city. He’s taking a few days off to recover from a burnout,” Seungcheol explained.

Your heart dropped upon hearing that, you turned to see Seungcheol’s face, but all you got from his side profile was seriousness. So you turned to the window again, not letting him get a glance of the worry masking your features.

The ride was silent. However it was the kind of silence you welcomed, it made you feel safe and not like something was about to go off.

Jeonghan lived in a quiet, but rich neighborhood. His house was secluded, sitting atop of a hill, and surrounded by trees. It felt like visiting an island, whenever you came here. You were always driven, dropped off, and then collected.

Your visits were scarce, you could count them with your fingers on one hand. And each time you visited was just for business. Never quite as an invitation.

You closed the door, waving off at Seungcheol who only nodded his head at you, driving off on the snow-covered concrete in his expensive car.

To get to the front door, you had to follow a path surrounded by nature, trees, and grass. Boots crunching on snow as you went down to stand in front of a door to an eerily quiet house, where the were lights off.

You knocked your fist in a familiar rat-a-tat and waited.

Jeonghan came to the door, yanking it open and stepping aside to let you in, locking the door as you sheltered yourself from the cold wind.

“Hey,” you mumbled demurely, avoiding his gaze as you covered your face with your hands, trying to warm them up.

“Cold?” he asked, he almost sounded like he was smiling.

“Yeah,” you replied, sucking in a breath.

“Let’s go to the living room, warm you up.”

Your tummy tightened nervously. “Alright,” you sighed, following him in his spacious home.

Jeonghan had an expensive taste. Not only from the clothes he wore or the car he drove. His house was huge, way bigger for just one person to live in it. It almost felt like he did not even live there. The place was tidied, there were no family pictures, no memorabilia, no signs that someone even liked living there.

“Take a seat,” he muttered softly, pointing to the long black velvet couch in front of the warm faux fireplace.

You did as he asked, feeling much better once you got closer to the heat coming the heater. The flatscreen played soft jazz music, and the lamps in the corners of the living room were on, providing a cozy warm light to the space.

“How have you been?” you asked, searching his face.

“I’ve been better,” Jeonghan said, reclining on the sofa across from you. There was a blanket thrown to one side, and you suspected he had been sleeping there before you knocked on his door.

Jeonghan looked tired, his face colorless even under the warm yellow tone coming from the lamps. He avoided your eyes too, maybe because he did not want to face your scrutiny.

“Why did you call for me?”

His dreamy eyes found you.

“I’ve given you all the information I’ve gathered so far,” you elaborated. “And Hyunjun’s left for the rest of the week, so I don’t know what else I am useful for.

“I don’t want to talk about work tonight,” he muttered, blinking away from your gaze.

“Jeonghan,” you started, moving from the couch to sit beside him. “You said you would tell me everything.”

Jeonghan frowned, this time he did not avoid your eyes as you read his face. “I did not want you to spend Christmas Eve on your own.”

Christmas Eve. The concept seemed so foreign to you because it had been so long since you practiced anything festive during that night. You had even forgotten about it completely.

Jeonghan knew your fiancé was away since you had informed him of everything almost every day. From his deals with the cops of the city to his trips with his affairs.

“Thank you,” you whispered, swallowing a lump of heavy emotions down your throat.

“No, thank you for coming,” he replied. “I might not be a light company to keep around, but I knew you’d be lonely tonight, and I am too, so,” he shrugged, rising from the couch with a small grunt.

“I like your company very much,” you whispered, sheepishly looking away before you could see his reaction.

Your relationship with Jeonghan so far has been strictly limited to talking about business. He was a man who went straight to the point, with no detours, no tangents. And you liked that.

But sometimes, he gave you mixed signals, such as inviting you to his house on Christmas Eve.

The silence dragged on. You looked at him again, thinking that you might have overstepped with your statement.

But Jeonghan looked pleased. He was lying on his side on the long velvety couch, supporting half of his body on his elbow, stroking a cushion with his lithe fingers. In his eyes, you saw something akin to victory. As if he were resolute after hearing your meek confession.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, pushing his body from the couch, and rising to his feet.

Instead of walking towards the kitchen, the man turned to the couch where you were sitting, pacing until he stood in front of you.

He stretched out his hand to grab your chin, gently pinching your skin with two fingers. “Mn? There’s food ready in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, okay,” you replied when you found your mouth to speak, standing up only after he motioned you out of the living room.

The kitchen was spacious, well well-lit. The countertops were grey, and the cupboards white. There was a glass table, adorned with candles, different plates full of food to the brim.

“Tsk, I told her not to do this,” he muttered under his breath when he saw the candles in the middle of the table and a small vase with flowers in it.

“Did you have someone help you?” you prompted, looking at the man lower his gaze in utter shyness.

“Saori, my housekeeper. She helps me with the more…. Challenging stuff around the house,” he muttered, pouting softly as he looked at the table. “I asked her to make a simple dinner for two people…”

“Everything looks delicious,” you noted, and you did not realize just how hungry you were until you got the smell of beef, and rice, and then looked at all of the side dishes, elegantly plated around the candles.

“Please,” he reacted at once, pulling out a chair for you.

“Thanks,” you whispered, sitting down, and looking around, expecting him to sit on the opposite side of you.

But he chose to sit on the chair next to yours, still avoiding your gaze as he egged you to start eating.

“So,” you prompted. “The more challenging stuff?” you arched an eyebrow.

Jeonghan showed you a shy smile, but one that took over his face, making his eyes turn into half-moons. “I suppose you don’t expect me to know how to cook, but I do,” he raised his palms at you. “Granted, I’m not the best cook, but I don’t have time to do it. Saori helps me with that.”

You munched on your food as you looked at him explaining. “Well, you’re lucky because Saori is a great cook,” you nodded. “This is delicious.”

“Oh, is that the galbi?” his mouth parted as he took a look at your plate. “Yeah, she’s exceptional. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

But your heart deflated a little bit. “Do you live alone?” you dared to ask.

“Yes,” he replied without much care. “I don’t mind it. I go to the city a lot, so I don’t spend a lot of time here as much as I would want to.”

You held your questions for the rest of the dinner, only replying to those he made at you or commenting on the food. It felt strange to share a moment like this with Jeonghan, not uncomfortable, just out of the ordinary.

After you and him were done with the food, he propped his elbows on the table, lacing his fingers together before placing his chin on them. “You look satisfied,” he murmured.

His sweet eyes were lively. Happier than you had ever seen him, even though there was still a note of exhaustion on his features. Under the candlelight, Jeonghan looked gorgeous. Heavenly, his sweet brown eyes outlining your face, his short dark hair tussled but somehow fell perfectly in place, his shiny creamy skin.

“I am,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

He remained silent, looking at you for a moment before reclining back on his seat. “Any news from your sister?” he asked with caution lacing his tone.

Your tummy clenched in anxiousness. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about work.”

“This isn’t work,” he arched an eyebrow. “This is your family.”

Jeonghan was fully aware that Kiki was only your friend. But he still referred to her as your sister every time the topic came up.

“I’ll be able to speak to her soon, Hyunjun told me so,” you stammered around the name of your fiancé. “He said she’s still in Greece.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, shaking his head lightly. “She’s not in Greece,” he muttered, an annoyed look twisting the features of his face.

“How do you know?” you asked. You had already formed your suspicions in your head but never went anywhere with them.

“He’s saying that to keep you in line,” he moved his hands to rest on his abdomen, nodding his head once. “The bastard probably has her somewhere in the country.”

Your heart throbbed painfully before you could even collect your words. “Do you think she’s alright?” you asked. “Do you think he’d do something to her?”

He shrugged. “Probably, though I wouldn’t think too much about that,” he said. “It won’t do you any good to think your sister is suffering. Just focus on getting her back.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you whispered, looking at the table absentmindedly.

Jeonghan rose from the table, and you followed his tall frame with your eyes.

“Is it wise to drink while you’re recovering?” you asked, watching him approaching the bar in one corner of the kitchen.

“Want one?” he offered, lifting a bottle to his view. “This is a Japanese whisky. Very rare. And expensive.”

You could tell he was not looking to impress you, by the tone he used to describe the bottle he was tipping into a glass, you knew he meant it in an unconcerned manner. “Sure,” you mumbled.

He returned, handing you a glass, which you grabbed with two shaky hands, giving him a word of thanks. “I really feel like drinking one tonight,” he muttered, returning to his seat.

“Are you feeling better?” you asked, noticing the pink color on his lips.

“Eh, I think I’ll feel better tomorrow after this,” he said offhandedly. “I’ve always been sickly, since I was a kid even. So this is not new to me.”

“Mm,” you nodded in understanding. “Isn’t that stressful?”

Your heart dropped to your stomach upon uttering that question. You felt like you could talk to Jeonghan. Given that you had learned to trust him over the past few months. But this was different, this was personal. With any other human being, this would unfold into a light conversation.

But this was Yoon Jeonghan. Not just anyone.

“It is,” he replied, lowering his gaze, darned by his set of heavy eyelashes. “I’ve been doing this for years and one thing I have learned is that it won’t get any easier.”

“I know,” you muttered, remembering all those times you saw your father bedridden, nearing his death. Just like he was now. “How do you get by?”

“This helps,” he raised his glass, a smirk drawing on his lips. “I know that it’s bad to show weakness, so it wouldn’t be smart for me to be sick all the time. So I kept myself hidden, no one knows I’m the boss, I draw no attention from the law. Or from other gangs.”

Or your fiancé.

“So is that your code?” you asked, trying to remove yourself from that first caution you felt around him.

“Like a code of honour you mean?” Jeonghan smiled after clicking his tongue. “No. I don’t think I have one.”

You sipped the whiskey, which indeed tasted intense, sweet, and woody. “Ah, come on, you must have a code. Everyone does.”

“I really don’t,” he chuckled, pouting as he gathered his thoughts. “I just have two rules. I don’t force violence upon the innocent, and I always keep my word.”

His sweet gaze locked on yours for a second, making your tummy flutter, your heart pounding with something you had never felt before in your life. It felt like a punch in the stomach. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the serotonin from having a conversation that felt humane.

“So, like a code of honour,” you chuckled, the sound bubbling out of your mouth.

Jeonghan stilled for a second, his eyes flashing over the features of your face. “Maybe,” he conceded, uttering the word with a mere whisper.

You stared at each other for a second.

“I should go back,” you croaked, reaching for your phone, and realizing that it was already ten o’clock. “It’s late.”

“I’ll have someone pick you up,” he muttered, equally distracted. He excused himself from the table, making a phone call promptly to have someone take you back home.

So you sat there, thinking of that passing surge of emotions. You had heard stories, seen it in film, read in books. But you had never believed it, until now. 

Maybe you liked Jeonghan a little too much.

Some moments later, he returned, stopping before the end of the table, a worried look on his face.

“What?” you uttered.

“Nothing,” he gaped, seemingly lost in his thought, raising his phone to your view. “There’s a heavy snowfall happening in the city, it is not bad right now so someone could come pick you up, but it’ll get worse later on your way back.”

“Oh,” you thought of what to do, maybe you could search for somewhere to stay, maybe you could…

“I have a spare bedroom, two actually,” he shrugged. “I don’t mind having you over. Until it is safe for you to come back. Is that okay with you?”

“I don’t mean to–,”

“Please,” he said. “I insist.”

You thought of everything that Jeonghan has done for you. True, he was also doing it for your benefit, but you felt there was more to it than him just trying to keep you safe. He wanted you there. Just like you wanted to be near him.

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Good,” he nodded too.

The silence between you returned, that silence that did not feel unpleasant but felt like it was squeezing the air out of your lungs. The overwhelming feeling returned to your bones, tingling at your fingertips.

“I should probably…” you whispered, beginning to clean the table off.

“Leave that,” he sighed, coming closer to stop you. “Don’t be ridiculous, leave that.”

You grabbed the used plates, the chopsticks, placing them neatly in a pile to take them to the sink. “Just let me rinse this at least,” you muttered, trying to bite the smirk fighting to get to the features of your face.

“I said leave that,” he gritted, grabbing the plates from your hand.

Now, even if he was tall and thin, Jeonghan was not weak at all. His strength overpowered your own, laughing as he swiftly took the plates from your hands without much effort.

“Jeonghan!” you squealed when he nearly dropped one of the banchan bowls.

The sound you emitted made him chuckle even harder. “Relax, I have it under control,” he muttered turning away to put the pile into the sink.

“Sure you do,” you said under your breath, continuing to tidy the table.

“You’re stubborn,” he shook his head disapprovingly. “Come, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

You were in the middle of your task, but knowing his house was big, you had no choice but to leave the plates there. Running off to where he disappeared to, which was a long hall that had windows on one side looking to the exterior.

It was snowing heavily outside, wind slamming against the trees, the path you had walked on covered in a layer of snow already.

“I think I have some new toothbrushes, I’ll give you one,” he said, opening one of the three doors at the end of the hall and turning on the light for you.

The bedroom was simple. White walls, one twin bed, two bedside tables with lamps on them and a bathroom.

“I could maybe lend you a pair of sweats and a t-shirt for you to sleep in them, if you do that sort of thing,” he muttered beside you as you looked at the very minimalistic bed.

“That sort of thing?” you looked at him, standing beside you so closely it robbed the air out of your lungs.

“Yeah, sleeping with clothes on?” he arched one eyebrow.

“Oh,” you blinked, shamefully shaking your head. “Jeonghan!”

He chuckled again, but this time deviously. Such a tease.

“I think I’ll take the clothes, thank you,” you said, pacing to the foot of the bed, wanting to sit on the navy blue covers.

“I’ll be right back,” he pushed himself off the doorframe, opening the door in front of yours.

The room was exactly the same as the one you were staying in, the only difference was that it looked slightly more lived in. Clothes were dropped on a chair, you saw a suitcase on the floor, the lamp was turned on, a frame placed on the bedside table.

“Here,” he extended his hand out to you when he came back.

The clothes were neatly folded, a new toothbrush sitting on its package on top of the black t-shirt he was lending you.

“Thank you,” you said, sneaking a tentative look at him.

Only to find that short pang of nervousness shooting down your spine again.

“Don’t worry about it,” he retreated, taking a step back. “Have a good night.”

And then he slipped through the door of the bedroom, closing it behind him.

After brushing your teeth and washing your face, you changed your clothes into the ones Jeonghan lent you. They were soft, and recently washed. They smelled of fabric softener, and of him.

You decided to forgo your bra, slipping the cotton t-shirt over your frame. When you slid under the bedsheets, you sighed under the welcoming weight of the heavy covers, stretching your limbs on the comfy mattress to start warming up.

There was a window, covered by blackout curtains. You could hear the wind hitting against the walls, the leaves rustled under the mercy of the heavy snowfall. Closing your eyes, you wondered if Jeonghan was already asleep. You wondered if he thought of you at all.

You turned over on your side, trying your best to keep your eyes close, to shut out the world outside and sleep.

Inevitably, your thoughts wandered to that moment between you and Jeonghan. You thought how it felt to have an honest conversation with him. To laugh with him. It was so cruel to be shut out in your own little world, you could not even remember when the last time was you laughed.

If it was like this for you, you could not even dare to imagine how it must be for someone like Jeonghan. Your heart ached at the thought.

Fifteen minutes turned into half an hour, then into a full hour. You turned to your other side, stretching an arm to the empty side of the bed, the bedsheets cold against your skin. You shuddered.

You ran your tongue against your upper teeth, tasting the fresh minty toothpaste, realizing you were thirsty. You cannot just go grab a glass of water, this is not your home.

But you were so thirsty it was hard to swallow. Part of you was convinced that it was just a random, normal moment of thirst. Totally not caused by the throbbing feeling inside you, pushing you off the bed.

The floor was cold beneath your feet as you had expected, but you drew in a hiss, nonetheless. You opened the door ever so slowly, managing to keep your movements light and quiet as you exited the bedroom.

You paced through the long hall, now noticing the frames hanging on the wall. There was a watercolor painting, and a diploma hanging beside it. That was the moment you learned Jeonghan had a degree in law.

You huffed quietly, resuming your mission to get a glass of water. When you entered the kitchen, you found out that the table had been cleaned, the dishwasher humming softly as you approached the sink, grabbing a glass to pour cold water into it.

You gulped three times, refreshing your throat with a pleased sigh.

“Can’t sleep?” Jeonghan muttered.

Your whole body jolted so hard you nearly dropped the glass to the floor, gasping loudly, a hand covering your mouth. “God!” you gasped.

“Hey,” Jeonghan raised his palms at you, smiling lightly. “Sorry, but you are incredibly unaware of your surroundings.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!” you yelped, putting the glass back into the sink, annoyed that he had startled you so badly.

“You never notice when someone’s tailing you,” he shrugged, advancing towards you.

True, you never did notice all the times when he was near you, or noticing you around when you thought you were out of sight.

“Because you’re stealthy as fuck for no reason!” you exclaimed with a higher tone.

Jeonghan emitted a silly giggle, bending over a little as he looked at you joyfully. “You’re just easy to scare, sweetheart,” he leaned back against one side of the kitchen island, crossing his arms. “So?”

“I can’t sleep,” you conceded, leaning back against the counter, standing face to face with him. You sneaked a look at his eyes. “You?”

“Same,” he shrugged. “I tend to be light sleeper, anything wakes me up.”

Ah, you mouthed. Hearing the noise from the strong winds of winter slamming against the house.

“Why are you awake, though?” he asked, and you knew he was not satisfied with your earlier excuse.

“I just have a lot in my mind,” you replied with honesty. “I can’t stop thinking.”

“Well, maybe if you let those thoughts out, you might be able to sleep,” he muttered, his voice sweet and welcoming like a hug.

You wondered what his hugs felt like.

“I… don’t think I can tell you, Jeonghan,” you replied shyly, dropping your gaze to your feet.

“You don’t want to tell me or can’t tell me?” he pushed himself off the countertop, taking two steps towards you, making you drag your gaze back to his face.

Even in the dark, you could see that glint of cunning in his eyes. You sucked in a breath, pressing your back against the counter when he stood mere inches in front of you. You must be ovulating, you thought, grabbing at the rim of the counter with both hands.

Jeonghan waited, tilting his head to one side as he watched you. Starting from your face, your neck, your arms, your hands, his gaze swam all over you, absorbing you in.

Then a nimble knuckle brushed against the engagement ring that was hugging your finger. The touch did not even land on your skin, but you felt it everywhere, igniting every nerve ending.

“I think you know,” you whispered.

His lower lip pursed slightly. “I want to hear it,” he murmured, his sweet voice weakening, becoming raspy. “I need to hear you say it,” he fixed his gaze on your face again, defiantly.

“Jeonghan, why did you call for me?” you asked, every emotion you had felt before choking you out.

“Tell me first,” he shook his head lightly, propping his hands beside yours on the counter, leaning over you.

“I can’t,” you breathed, trying to move back as he drew in closer. An empty smile curving your lips. “I’m engaged to someone, Jeonghan.”

“Someone you despise,” he growled under his breath. “When was the last time you felt safe with him?”

You swallowed back your arguments. Did Jeonghan know that you had never felt safe around Hyunjun? Even when you thought you loved him, you were always walled up.

“Why did you agree to come here?”  

The question was clear, but it answered what you also needed to know. Jeonghan knew it too, the glint in his eyes told you that much.

Intrigued, he went on. “Why do you look at me like that?” he asked. “The way you talk to me, when you smile… I know you feel something,” he whispered, reading your face swiftly, over, and over. “Tell me. Tell me, please.”

You realized that he was asking you for his own good. As if he needed you to turn him down before he did something totally wrong and unwise. Or as if he needed you to tell him what he was thinking, to do it anyway.

“Jeonghan…” you muttered right before he captured your lips with his own in a ghostly kiss, you closed your eyes, a low hum bubbling in your throat.

“Stop me,” he dared. “Stop me now.”

You grabbed his face with your hands, pulling him closer. “I can’t. I don’t want to.”

Jeonghan let out a raspy groan, returning to your lips with another kiss. This time, he went deeper, kissing you chastely, heatedly, as if he could not break away from you. His hand found your hip, pressing himself to your front.

He broke away, your lips resounding with a wet smacking noise. He breathed against your mouth, swallowing your breath as you were doing to his own. It tasted sweeter than you had ever dared to imagine.

“Come to my room with me?” he breathed, pressing his forehead on yours, leaning your face so he could press a wet, slow kiss on your lips.

Damned be your hormones. Or the whisky. The snow. Damned be your fiancé. Damned be everything. You were touched starved. Lonely.

But you could not fool yourself any longer: you had never felt this way before. It was electrifying.

You vaguely remembered how you felt when Hyunjun kissed you hours before. The emptiness of his kiss, like all of the other kisses that preceded it.

Testing, you pressed your lips against his again, and he reciprocated at once. The taste of his soft lips was sweet, minty. His kiss pulled you in, like the force of two magnets, his fingers clenching your waist gently.

Kissing Jeonghan was like taking a breath after feeling suffocated for so long.

“Jeonghan,” you breathed, so close to his lips, your hands slid from his cheeks, your fingers gingerly touching his jawline. “If we do this, I don’t think I can go back to how we were… This is dangerous. For both of us.”

“Trust me, I know. Even being near you it’s signing a fucking death sentence,” he replied softly, there was no snark or venom in his words. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever have the chance to be this close to you again. I’ve wanted you for so long…”

“Wanted me?” you asked with a tiny voice.

“This is complicated, and crazy, and a bad idea. I know,” he whispered, in his eyes you saw a flash of worry. “If you don’t want this, I’ll go back to my room. I’ll never bring this up again.”

You noticed the weird, dejected way he said those last words. Your heart instantly ached, making you shake your head.

Jeonghan saw the remorse hitting you. “I need an answer, sweetheart,” he pleaded softly, as though he already knew what you were thinking, but needed you to say it aloud.

“Promise me you will take care of me?” you whispered.

“I promise.”

You were crazy, you had to be crazy. But his kiss was so alluring, his attention so tempting you could not hold yourself back. Your hand cupped his chin, and he finished leaning over to kiss you fervently, almost as if he wanted to melt into you.

Jeonghan moaned when your tongue outlined his lower lip, the quiet, guttural sound making your skin tingle. “Let’s go to my room,” he grunted in your mouth, pausing just to say that before diving into your lips again.

Your hands slid from his chin to his hard chest, feeling his heartbeat under your fingertips. You needed to hold him, to feel him.

As if he could hear your thoughts, Jeonghan grabbed your hand, the cold metal around your finger pressing on his skin as he pulled you, motioning you to his bedroom. Your pulse quickened, quickly making you feel lightheaded.

You got to his bedroom, which was nearly identical to the one he assigned you. The lamp was still on, which led you to believe that he did not even try to sleep. But you could not pay attention to the fleeting thought. 

Jeonghan pulled you closer, using his hand on yours to draw you in. His hands cupped your face, inhaling your breath as he resumed kissing you. You wrapped your arms around him, hands roving all over his back, stopping before the band of his sweats. 

“Mmf,” you let out a half moan in his lips, trying to speak up but he would not let you, kissing you ravenously, as if he could not get enough from your lips. And honestly, you would be doing the same thing, if it was not for your aching need to undress him. 

Your hands went around his waist, trailing down until your fingers found the hem of his t-shirt, tugging at it sheepishly. “Should we take this slow?” you whispered, the anxious feeling in your throat making your voice wane.

“No,” he decided at once. “We’ll have another night to take it slow. I need you right now.”

The words nearly sent you into a frenzy. You kissed him again, though briefly, your hands were finding his abdomen, feeling his skin.

“Go ahead, baby,” he whispered, so close to you that you could feel the slow smirk pulling the corners of his lips.

You hiked his t-shirt up his torso, uncovering his milky white skin to your view.

“Lie down,” he rasped, kissing you repeatedly.

You followed his command without a second thought, walking backwards until you found the bed with the back of your knees. You sat down first, backing up to the center of the bed, and he followed.

Jeonghan lied on his side, next to you, propping his body on one elbow as his other hand reached out to cup your cheek, pulling you into a wet, passionate kiss. You hummed in his mouth when his tongue rolled inside yours, your hands grabbing him, trying to pull him closer.

“What are you doing, baby?” he muttered with an amused look on his face.

You gently caressed his skin with your hands, feeling his slender collarbones under your fingertips, his chest, all the way down to his abdomen. The tip of your thumb dipped lightly into his belly button, eliciting a soft gasp from him, a smirk drawing on his face when you brushed the soft hairs of his happy trail.

“Don’t tease me,” he rasped, daring you again.

The corners of his lips tugged slightly when you curled your fingers on the waistband of his sweats, sending quick looks to your eyes and back to your hands. You bit your lower lip, grabbing the band of his boxers too, noticing the bulge under his sweats.

You got to your knees, tugging the waistband down as Jeonghan lifted his hips for you. You shuddered upon seeing his hard cock slapping his lower abdomen. You took his pants and boxers off, leaving him utterly naked on the covers of his bed.

Before you could even touch his skin, kiss him in places you so utterly wanted, his hands were pushing you back on the mattress. You complained with a loud gasp, finding a playful smirk on his face.

“Behave and I’ll give you what you want,” he muttered, placing his hands at each side of your head, leaning over to press a kiss on your lips, its sweetness betraying the firmness of his command.

A quiet moan left your mouth when he pressed another soft kiss on your lower lip. His dark gaze looking at you as he pulled away slightly, but keeping some inches from your face. “Mn? Will you be good for me, pretty?”

“Yeah. I’ll do whatever you want me to,” you replied, blushing over how turned on you sounded already.

But it made Jeonghan smile, a hand brushed your cheek endearingly, blowing you away with its gentleness. “You’re going to kill me,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to yours, stealing a chaste kiss from you, then another.

You felt the weight on pillows shift on the sides of your face, seconds later you felt Jeonghan’s hands slipping underneath your t-shirt, caressing your skin with his cold fingers. He backed away once he hooked his fingers on the band of your panties, grabbing your sweats too.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered softly.

“Shh, be patient,” he smirked, pulling back to his knees, dragging your clothes down your legs.

Your heart pounded frantically in your throat, but you kept your eyes on him, following each movement, darting looks down his beautiful naked body. He sighed under a smile, his hands caressing your thighs with a feather-light touch, gently egging you to part them for him.

“Good girl,” he muttered, leaning over you again, pushing the t-shirt up to your breasts with his hand, caressing your skin in the process. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Thank you, Hannie,” you sighed, eyelids fluttering wildly as his touch ignited you again.

Jeonghan smiled. “I like that,” he whispered, referring to the nickname you used. He leaned to press a loving kiss on your sternum, making you jolt in nervousness. “So responsive,” he hummed approvingly, darting a testing look at your eyes before pressing a kiss on the swell of your breasts, making a short trail to your nipple.

“God,” you sighed, letting your eyelids fall close. Your hand found the back of his head, fingers coiling around the strands of his black hair.

He muffled a giggle in your chest, littering it with wet, open kisses. He tasted, licked, and nibbled your skin, showering it with so much love you quickly became drunk, moaning, squirming and uttering his name.

Your skin prickled as he placed another open kiss right below your belly button, glancing at your face as he moved to push his hands on your thighs, angling you open for him.

“J-jeonghan,” you stuttered, tensing your spine as he placed a sweet kiss on your inner thigh, “God, please, Jeonghan,” you pleaded, being so long since you had been touched like this, it felt like fireworks going off inside you at each touch, each kiss…

“Patience, baby girl,” he muttered softly, nibbling your inner thigh, the enjoyment flashing on his face when a moan bubbled in your mouth.

“Please, please, please,” you whispered over and over, his reminder nearly going unnoticed by your pleas.

“Mmmn, you’re becoming bratty,” he muttered, still taking his sweet time teasing you with kisses on your inner thighs, running his tongue on your skin, eliciting a loud yelp from you.

You turned your head onto the pillow, trying to muffle your moans, snapping your eyes open when he finally pressed a kiss on your mound, then another on your clit. You shuddered in pleasure, your arousal pooling in your entrance.

“So needy,” he tutted again, and you knew by his tone that he was smiling.

You nearly choked on a gasp, hands flying to grab at the covers when he pushed his tongue between your folds, giving you a long stroke with his tongue against your cunt, drinking you in with a raspy moan on his part.

“Jeonghan,” you moaned weakly, easing your back on the mattress, closing your eyes, relishing in the sweet pleasure his mouth was giving you. “Oh, Jeonghan…”

He clutched your hips, licking every inch of your pussy lips teasingly, then his hands slid up your tummy, finding your breasts to fondle them, pushing his tongue on your clit at the same time. An airy moan spilled from your lips, trying to keep as quiet as possible as his tongue started drawing figures around your clit, getting it to swell.

You had to bite down your lip, releasing the covers from your tight grip to prop yourself to your elbows. The sight of him eating you out was so alluring you swore you could come from it alone. He raised his dark eyes, finding your face, probably seeing the awe and the pleasure written in it.

Jeonghan smiled, curving his lips slightly as his tongue worked on your clit, you moaned again, thighs tensing at his sides, bumping against the sides of his face.  

“I’m close, Hannie,” you sighed, welcoming the long forgotten tension coiling deep inside you, your chest falling and rising faster.

His hands grabbed your thighs to keep you open for him, slipping two fingers inside your throbbing walls, his tongue switching the motion of the tip of his tongue on your clit, darting from side to side on it.

“Oh, Hannie,” you moaned, writhing on the bed, feeling that tension finally snap inside you, washing over you. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming…” you tilted your head back, fingers tangling in his hair as you came undone with lewd moans and ragged breaths.

You stroke his hair languidly, coming down from your high as he continued eating you out, licking the arousal pooling in your core, the sensitiveness in the area making you jolt.

Jeonghan kissed your mound, pulling out his fingers out of your walls before sneaking a playful look at you. “Hey,” he mumbled, crawling to you as you lied back on the pillows.

“Hey,” you whispered, wiping your arousal from his chin with one hand.

He kissed you again. “You’re good?” he asked.

“I’m good, Jeonghan,” you giggled sweetly, surprised that he would stop mid-sex to check in on you.

“God, I love that sound,” he sighed, his fascinated gaze outlining your features.

Your heart stammered. “Yeah?” you taunted, smirking at him. “What else do you love about me?”

“Everything,” he drawled drunkenly, planting more kisses on your lips, humming when your hands roamed on his back. “Everything,” he repeated, as though he had not found a single thing about you he disliked.

“Mmn,” you hummed in his lips, tasting yourself in them.

A hand returned on your tummy, blindly finding the t-shirt and motioned you to help him take it off you. Your bodies moved in synchronicity, you sat up just as he sat back, throwing the t-shirt once he removed it, grabbing your chin with one hand to steal another kiss on your lips.

“Are you on birth control, baby?” he asked, his tone gentle, but it had a slight gruffness in it.

“No,” you muttered, your heart falling to your stomach. “Do you have condoms?”

“No,” he bit his lower lip, eyebrows pinching softly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been with someone.”

The statement was nearly hurtful for you. Jeonghan was the most alluring man you had ever met. But you knew you had to be insane when a thought flashed in your head, not caring about anything else.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, cupping his face with your hands. “Me too.”

Jeonghan did not question this, but he remained frozen, as if unsure of how to proceed. “What do you want to do?”

Your heart fluttered uneasily, looking at his features. “I want you, Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands falling from his face but found his waist, clutching him gently. “I want to feel you. Please…”

He pushed you back onto the covers again, placing his hands on each of your sides. But you realized that he had not conceded yet, his eyes were going over your face over and over, a sign that the gears in his brain were turning.

“Are you sure?” he muttered, smiling when you nodded eagerly. “God, baby, you’re crazy.”

“You’re crazy too,” you smirked.

Jeonghan made no reply to this. His hand cupped your cheek, slotting his lips in yours to kiss you deeply, humming into your mouth as he positioned his body between your legs.

Blindly, following his lips with your seamlessly, your hand found his length, stroking him slowly, thumb brushing the beads of precum leaking from its tip. Jeonghan moaned, his hand falling beside you on the pillow for support.

You guided his cock between your legs, breath hitching nervously when the tip slid between your pussy lips, covered in your arousal. Jeonghan gasped too, breaking the kiss to look at you in the eyes.

There were no words exchanged, just looking at each other as you nudged his tip against your pooling entrance. Jeonghan pushed his cock inside you, stretching your walls slowly. His mouth parted, letting out a silent groan as you moaned lewdly, squirming beneath him.

“You’re good?” he choked out, retracting his hips one inch to push back in.

“I’m good,” you stammered, fingers trembling on his waist, trying not to sink your fingernails on his skin. It had been a while since you had some action happening in your life, and although Jeonghan was not big, his length fit inside you perfectly, his tip pressing in one particular sensitive spot.

“I’m going to start moving, baby,” he whispered, meeting his hips with your own.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you sighed, trying to relax under his weight.

But you were nervous. Intoxicated by the smell of his neck, skin prickling when he pressed his chest on yours, hypnotized his lips moaning your name. No one had ever made you felt like this.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me,” he groaned, dropping his forehead on yours. “Relax, sweetheart… or this might end too soon,” he whispered in your ear.

“It feels so good,” you whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You feel so good, Hannie…”

That made him smile, sending a powerful shudder through your body. “Put your legs around me,” he gave his command gently, and you followed it.

Now you were practically clinging to him, following the gentle motions of his hips on you. You closed your eyes briefly, easing the tension between your legs when his thrusts picked up the pace, going a little faster on you.

Jeonghan grunted quietly, making you open your eyes to find his gaze.

“You’re good?” you asked meekly.

He smiled endearingly at you. “Amazing, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You feel incredible,” he told you between kisses, pressing them on your lips.

You moved one hand to cup his face, still hugging him with one arm.

His gaze shifted, your hand caressing his cheek making him close his eyes for a moment.

Then something caught your eye. The cold ring hugging your finger was also pressing to his cheek, his eyebrows drew inward slightly, gasping softly as he blinked at you. Your heart deflated, seeing his demeanor had changed in a second. You almost wanted to pause and remove your engagement ring, but you also knew that it was too late.

Even though Jeonghan knew you did not love your fiancé, you were not a free woman.

But he was claiming you as his, his hips pushed against yours harder, knocking the air from your lungs. You removed your hand from his cheek, placing it on the covers of the bed.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, squeezing his eyes shut. “Fuck, fuck!” he exclaimed, dropping his forehead on the pillow, next to your face.

His thrusts slowed down sloppily, breathing raggedly against the pillow. It took you some seconds to understand he was resisting his climax for you.

You carefully used the tips of your fingers to stroke his hair. Jeonghan was groaning languidly, moving his cock with shallow thrusts inside you.

“Promise me you won’t let him touch you,” he rasped in your ear.

Your tummy tightened anxiously. “I promise,” you replied.

As he breathed on your neck, you could get the faint smell of his neck, of his hair. You hugged him tightly against your body, welcoming his warmth, deciding that you would never want anyone else.

You must be crazy.

He raised his head to look at you, his gaze had darkened. “No one else touches you,” he breathed. “No one but me.”

“I promise,” you parroted mesmerizingly.

He leaned on you again, cupping your chin with his hand before pressing a slow, sensual kiss on your lips. “You’re mine,” he muttered drowsily.

A thrilling feeling of exhilaration swept through your body all the way to your brain. “I’m yours.”  

Then he started thrusting his hips against yours, hard and fast, as though hearing your promise sent him into a mad frenzy. You noticed him moving his mouth, babbling nonsense, and moaning out your name.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he tilted your head to meet your lips with his in a soft kiss. Moans spilled from your lips, his gaze going soft when you also mumbled out his name, daring to use your hand to cup his cheek again.

“Jeonghan,” you mewled, hugging him tighter with your legs around his waist.

“You’re close, sweetheart?” he forced out.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“You’re gonna come for me, baby girl?” he asked, smirking softly when you nodded again frantically, thighs starting to shake around him. 

You gasped, feeling so close yet there was something going wrong in your body. Overwhelmed with pleasure, moaning every time Jeonghan’s cock reached that particular sweet spot in your walls, hitting it with each stroke of his hips against yours.

Jeonghan realized you could not reach your high when you whined, closing your eyes to focus on the tight feeling pooling inside you. A light kiss pressed to your cheek, then below your earlobe. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispered shakily on your ear. “I’ll give you whatever you need.”

“T-talk to me?” you asked meekly.

Jeonghan emitted a giggle that send butterflies to your stomach. “Dirty?”

“God, yes please,” you gasped, giggling upon how needy you sounded at that.

You saw the effect your giggles had on him, a soft sigh falling from his lips. “Stop wrapping your legs around me, or we might end up making a baby,” he muttered gruffly.

A strange feeling bloomed inside you, making you moan salaciously. “Fuck, Jeonghan, please,” you whined. “I’m so close.”

He pulled his body back, grabbing your hips to keep thrusting in. The position of his cock inside you changed too, now pressing on your front walls harder.

Your eyes watered, a raw moan spilling from your lips. “Oh, god,” you gritted.

“You like that?” he smirked, jackhammering into you, making the headboard of the bed slam against the wall.

“Yeah, yeah, yes,” you balled your hands into fists at the covers on your sides, back arching as you moaned.

You were so, so fucking close, you ached to come, you needed to come. Pleasure was brimming inside you, wet noises coming from your pussy each time Jeonghan hit his hips against yours.

“Don’t fucking touch yourself yet,” he rasped when he caught sight of your hand inching closer to your mound.

You dropped your hand at your side, whining reproachfully at him. “But I’m close,” you sighed, tears brimming in your eyes from the unyielding pleasure that just kept on building inside you.

“You’ll come when I want you to,” he sighed out in pleasure too, throwing his head back slightly.

Pressure coiled tighter inside you, walls throbbing around him upon hearing him speaking to you harshly.

He gasped, a single vein throbbing in his neck from the exhaustion growing in his limbs. “Your little cunt’s so tight, baby, do you even finger yourself?”

“S-sometimes,” you choked out, feeling your face burn.

“How do you do it baby?” he asked. “Like this?” he rasped, bringing the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles on it.

“God, Hannie,” you gasped, pushing the back of your head onto the pillow, biting down your lip to keep any more lewd noises from spilling out again.

Jeonghan noticed this time around, smirking at you with a glint of playfulness. “Be as loud as you want, sweetheart. No one’s around,” he drawled lazily, still thrusting his cock at a delicious pace, rubbing fast swirls on your clit.  

“Oh, god,” you whispered, your legs starting to shake again. “Jeonghan, keep going, fuck, fuck. Help me come, please…”

A fascinated look flashed on his face. The speed of his thrusts slowed down a little, bending his head over you to let his spit fall on your cunt perfectly. You moaned at the sight, feeling the pad of his thumb sliding perfectly on your engorged clit, teasing it more.

He kept ramming his cock in your pussy, making the headboard slam louder against the wall, the mattress creaking beneath your bodies. You could tell Jeonghan was growing tired, but there was a glint in his eye, he wanted to push you farther, to see what would make you snap.

“Did he ever fuck you like this, baby?” he rasped, his throat bobbing as he swallowed back a moan.

“Fuck, Jeonghan,” you gritted, arching your back on the bed. Forcing out an honest no under your breath.

He leaned forward, but only slightly, resting his hands on the sides of your waist. “And he fucking won’t,” he muttered softly, taking one of your hands to kiss your palm, uncaring that you still had your ring on. “No one will. You’re mine, mine to ruin.”

You nodded obediently. A rush of exhilaration ran all over your body. “I am.”

Jeonghan looked at you in awe, pausing to grab your legs to hoist them up on his shoulders, resuming to slam his hips on yours, his cock hitting so deep inside you that you cried out, tears spilling from your eyes.

“Jeonghan¸ god, yes, yes, right there!” you squealed in pure bliss.

“That’s right baby,” he sighed under a pleased smile. “Come all over me, come on this cock.”  

“I’m coming, Jeonghan. I’m there, I’m there…” you gasped, tasting your sweet orgasm, the feeling of release overwhelming you, buzzing in your ears, making your mind go blank.

Jeonghan read your face, moaning with you as you came around him. “God, baby,” he gritted, pressing his lips against your knee. “Oh, fuck. Fuuuck…” he threw his head back, a raw moan escaping between his clenched teeth.

“Hannie…” you mewled, crying from pleasure brimming inside you, making your walls throb and clamp around him. “Jeonghan, oh my god…”

“I know, baby,” he sighed, still pushing his cock inside your throbbing walls. You smiled slightly at him, coming down from your climax, making him reach his.

With perfect timing, he pulled out of you, spilling himself on your lower tummy with soft and languid, moans. Jeonghan breathed hard, looking at the mess on your skin, spilling until the last drop.

Jeonghan wasted no time, he bent over, capturing your lips with a lewd kiss. “Let’s go clean up,” he whispered between rushed kisses, making you scrunch your nose, giggling lazily. “Then we’ll cuddle, and sleep together. How does that sound, sweetheart?”

Mind fogged, you nodded at him. “I’d like that, Jeonghan,” you whispered back.

“Good,” he gasped, taking a moment to look at your eyes before smiling. “God, you really drive me crazy.”

Once you washed up, you lied in his bed, staring at the ceiling for a while, turning over on your side as he slipped under the covers. He hummed softly, wrapping his arms around your body, snuggling up to you.

“What are you thinking?” he asked, noticing you deep in thought.

Your gaze fell on the portrait neatly placed on his bedside table. In the dark, you could see four figures posing for a family photo. Even if you could not make out the other faces, you could see his. A young brightness painted his face, his smile, the half-moon of his eyes. He was happy.

“Who are they?” you whispered.

“Who?” he muttered, intuiting what you were asking, he followed your gaze. “Ah. They’re my family.”

“Are they safe?” the question flew out of your mouth before you could even hold yourself back.

“Yeah, they are,” he whispered calmly, moving his body so he could look at you, propping his weight on his elbow. “I do everything to keep them safe. They don’t really know what I do, and haven’t seen them in years but… I send them things every now and then.”

Your heart broke. And you could not hold yourself back any longer. “I just… I just can’t stand the thought that you’re alone,” you said with a shameful look.

His gaze softened, a shy smile curving his beautiful lips, showing his perfect set of teeth. “Oh, baby. But I’m not alone,” he said, bringing a hand to pinch your chin. “You’re here.”

You grabbed his fingers pinching you softly to press your lips against his pads. “I’ll have to go back eventually.”

“For a while,” he said, his fingers started toying with yours. “We need to keep this up until we find your sister, and we have a clear target on him.”

Your heart deflated at the mention of Kiki, and the sorrow showed on your face.

“Hey,” he whispered, drawing your gaze back to his. “What’s wrong?”

You caressed his shoulder, gathering your words. “I feel so guilty that she’s being used as leverage,” you whispered, even though it was something you knew was made clear by your actions, saying it aloud felt worse.

“You can’t really change that,” he muttered. “Hyunjun saw a weak spot in you and exploited it. It’s not on you. It’s on him.”

You nibbled on your lower lip, swallowing your tears. “She’s just a kid,” you said. Jeonghan remained quiet, reading your face so you just went on: “She’s just a girl that showed me kindness when no one did. She is not even a part of this world. I let her get close to me and now I don’t even know she’s alright.”

“Why do you say she’s your sister?” he asked with caution, and you knew that he had intended to ask that question before, but refrained from doing so.

“She called me sister a lot, it was quite annoying at first,” you explained, the memory bringing a smile to your face. “Kiki lived in the same neighborhood I used to live in before I got engaged. She was lonely, her parents were either at work or out drinking. So I would keep her company, watch movies with her, talk about boys… eventually I started calling her my sister too.”

Jeonghan showed you a smile, it was sad, but at the same time sweet. “You love her.”

You sniffled quietly, nodding with your head. “I can’t lose her.”

“She’ll be fine, baby,” he whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb. “We’ll get her back. I made a promise, remember?”

You smiled weakly at him. “You did.”

And he always kept his promises. No matter the cost.

› four, double dare

After that night, everything changed.

It became increasingly difficult to go back home to your fiancé. One, because you liked him even less than you ever did. Two, because of the burden you felt from cheating on him. And three, because every second you spent away from Jeonghan was miserable to you. 

Granted, you could not remember when the last amicable time was spent with your fiancé. And the weight of infidelity you felt was because you never thought you would cross that line. Even if Hyunjun probably did not care, it felt dirty.

But everything you could think about was that night with Jeonghan. The morning after you slept together, you spent it pressed against his body, barely even stopping to have breakfast. And when it was time to get ready to go, you nearly cried from thinking that this would be a one-time thing.

“Why do you look like that?” Jeonghan had asked, using two fingers under your jaw to lift your face to his view. “What’s happening?”

“I don’t want to go,” you replied, your voice thickening.

A light frown showed on his face. “It’s temporary, baby,” he muttered, gently cupping your face. “When this is all over, you won’t have to leave, you can stay here.”

“Really?” you whispered.

“Did you think that I’d let you go that easily?” he asked with a soft tone. “Sweetheart, how do I make you believe that I want you?”

It was an understatement to say it was hard for you to even concentrate. Your every thought was riddled with memories of him, fantasies of you kissing him again.

You had stopped blaming that first kiss with Jeonghan on your vulnerability. It became clear to you that you had wanted to kiss him way before he even made an advance to you.

Every time your phone buzzed, your heart gave a leap, thinking it was some development, some notice that you would see Jeonghan soon. But days went by, and you did not even get so much as a text message.

Being an informant also meant that you had very little contact with Jeonghan. Assuming that you had to keep your role, you waited. And continued playing the fool.

Hyunjun suspected nothing about your affair, or about you being an informant. Though he was still weary of you and still felt like you wanted to call off the engagement, he never brought the topic to the table.

So you carried on with the plan. You gathered whatever information you could get, played dumb, and got back to Jeonghan.

Sometimes, you would have the opportunity to stay with him, sometimes you would have to settle for some hours. Either way, Jeonghan and you would get the most out of the time you had. You could not get enough of him, and he could not get enough of you.

Weeks turned into months, and soon you entered spring. And even though some time had passed, your affair with Jeonghan was still exciting. And dangerous.

You were sitting on the sofa, reading a book, a finger toying with the corner of the page you were pretending to read.

Hyunjun was handling some business on the phone on the other side of the living room, aloof to your scrutiny. Each sentence he spoke was direct and brief, but as you put them all together, you could tell that Jeonghan’s last move had rattled some of his plans. And stolen a lot of money’s worth of shipment.

Hyunjun was almost cornered. But in that, it also meant that your father’s empire was crumbling too. All your fiancé did was handle your father’s money, and his clients, it was your father’s network, his money, his men.

And by being the sole child, everything was yours by right.

You sighed in faux boredom, looking at your book. Hyunjun shot you a look that you were already expecting and ended his call, pocketing his phone.

“Honey,” he called flatly, making you draw your gaze at him.

“Yes?” you replied sweetly, your tummy tightening upon the action.

Hyunjun walked towards you in the living room, taking the book from your hands once he was standing in front of you. He crouched, so he could look eye to eye with you.

“I was thinking… I don’t want to wait any longer… we should get married,” he said, blinking twice before the corners of his lips pulled in a smile.

Several seconds went on. The wind had been knocked out of you, which served as a good reaction that passed for genuine shock. You opened your mouth, heart palpitating in your throat before you made your choice.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, trying to sound as excited as humanly possible. But everything inside you roared in rage. “Yes, oh my god, yes!”

You knew this day would come.

“Next week?” he muttered, his eyes shining with something you could not quite place. It was not love, it was not sweetness.

It was a man who had finally caught his prey.

“Of course!” your limbs reacted too, managing to wrap his shoulders in a hug, instead of kissing him. Once hiding on his shoulder, your worries came in, shaking in fear and worry. “I waited so long for this…”

When his hands touched your back, it took everything in you not to recoil instantly. “Me too, honey, me too…”

“You should do it,” Jeonghan stated coldly, crossing his arms over his chest, looking fixedly at the table he was standing by.

Your heart fell to your tummy. “But I just told you I don’t want to,” you muttered.

“It’s the smart thing to do,” he said, sighing heavily as he placed both hands on the table, leaning over it and crossing one foot. “Did you agree to do it next week?”

You bit your lower lip, dropping your gaze to the concrete floor before nodding your head silently.

Jeonghan had many hide-outs spread all around the country. The hideout you were in now was a hangar. It was private and had been given an abandoned appearance deliberately. It had everything you would expect to see in a hangar, cargo equipment, old aircraft parts, heavy tooling, and a nice little plane parked off to the side.

The only sources of light were a pair of industrial lights by the table. And some lanterns were placed by the large doors to the hangar, where you could see Wonwoo’s shadow pacing back and forth before the entrance.

You were not alone with Jeonghan. Seungcheol was also pacing in circles, but he was doing so behind Jeonghan, who was still fixating on some floor plans laid on the table.

“We need to act,” Seungcheol gritted, coming to Jeonghan’s side. “We have less than a week to attack then.”

Jeonghan shook his head. “It’s too soon,” he sent you a look that drained all blood from your face. “He knows.”

“He knows what?” Seungcheol spat. “If he knew, then we would be aware,” then he looked at you. “Hyunjun doesn’t know about you informing us, right?”

“I’m not talking about that,” Jeonghan muttered, crestfallen.

“Jeonghan, I don’t think he knows,” you said, but the man was not hearing, he was falling into a self-induced paranoia. 

“He knows about us,” he said and even though the statement was something you were dreading to hear, he spoke it softly.

You went around the large table, standing at his side. “I’d be locked up if he did,” you stammered, trying to draw his gaze back to you. “Think about it, Jeonghan, he is asking me to marry him. He’s playing a game.”

That made him lift his head, his eyes finding yours. “What game do you think he’s playing?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “But my guess is that he’s after whatever position of power my family will give him. He’s after my dad’s name.”

“Makes sense,” he said but he was not thoroughly convinced. “Do you think he’s planning on getting rid of him?”

“The man can barely talk but Hyunjun still obeys him,” you mumbled, looking at him for any signs that he was coming back from his panic attack.

“Okay, we can work with that,” Seungcheol sighed, placing his hands on the table as well.

Jeonghan seemed to be snapping out of it, his eyes reading your face over and over. “Marry him,” he blurted.

“What?!” you exclaimed. 

“What?” Seungcheol questioned, huffing when neither Jeonghan nor you said anything, just stared at each other.

“Go on with the wedding,” he said dejectedly, standing up straight, as he would treat regular business. “That way we’ll know when and where he will be, surrounded by all his men. We’ll have the bastard cornered. We could even wait until the guests leave, then we got him.”

“You’re seriously not using me as bait,” you gritted, tears stinging in your eyes from the rage that quickly started building up.

Seungcheol looked astounded too, as though he also had not expected Jeonghan to say this, to form this kind of plan. “Fuck, this is insane,” he breathed, standing back from the table, running a hand through his hair exasperatedly.

“Do you think I’d let you in on this plan if I didn’t know you’d be safe?” he asked in a dangerously low tone. “Do you seriously think I’d be stupid enough to put you in danger?”

“What about the part I marry that fucking lunatic?” you raised your voice, stepping closer to him, making him take a step back from the table. “Did you think about that?”

Seungcheol went completely still, looking at your exchange with Jeonghan. You were sure that Wonwoo and Mingyu had stopped their patrolling to hear from afar. In the very tight-knit circle that Jeonghan had crafted, you were the only one that dared speak to Jeonghan like that, not because they feared him, no.

They simply held him in too much esteem to even talk to him in a condescending way.

“Do you think I fucking want this?” he gritted back darkly.

“Well, yeah! I don’t see you having a hard time telling me to marry him!” you shouted back, limbs trembling in rage and despair.

Jeonghan ran a hand all over his face, muffling a short sigh. “You can’t ask me to have him killed if you’re not willing to do something to–,”

“I go back to him every fucking night, Jeonghan!” your voice was becoming raw from raising it. “I sleep in his bed, I pretend I like him! I can’t be his wife!”

“It’ll be for five fucking minutes!” he said, not quite screaming but his voice was harsh. Harsher than you had ever heard him speak.

“I don’t want to marry him!” you said exasperatedly, throwing your hands at your sides.

“I need him distracted, vulnerable. I need him surrounded by all of his men and far away from the docks. I need everyone in that wedding to believe that you were on his side,” his eyes shone with a madness that if you had been smarter you would have avoided.

“I can’t do it,” you said in a mere whisper. “Please, don’t make me do it.”

“Fuck,” he gritted, scrunching his face in annoyance, he turned away from you, cradling the back of his head with his hands. “Fuck!”

Seungcheol sighed heavily, but in his face there was something written that clearly said, I don’t have anything to do with this. He turned away, raising his hands as he excused himself from the conversation between you and Jeonghan and walked off to the entrance, where the other two men were still snooping. 

Jeonghan turned back to you, still pissed off by the darkness in his eyes, his brow deeply furrowed. Every step he took toward you brought a dull heaviness that made you swallow hard.

“Go on with the wedding, we’ll stop it before it’s over,” he said, tightening his jaws, delivering the next words in that same dejected manner: “You won’t be his wife.”

You could feel the loud thumping of your heart dying down little by little, but your breathing remained erratic, looking at him in utter disbelief. “You bastard,” you hissed, pointing at his face with one finger. “You would have me married to him!”

“He’ll die that night,” he put in simply, clearly not understanding what your complaint was.

“You–,” you gritted, smacking your hands on his chest in a fit of rage. “You’re just like him! You’re all the fucking same!”

“Stop, stop it!” he hissed, grabbing you by the wrists, stopping your feeble attack at once, and pulling you into his chest. “We need to play into his game, like it or now. What if he really suspects about us? What if he already knows that it’s me you’re having an affair with?”

“What if he doesn’t?” you asked, your tone dropping to a mere whisper. “What if this is just him trying to exert power over me? To own me more than he already does?”

Jeonghan went rigid, gritting his teeth as he let out a breath through his nose to calm himself. “He doesn’t own you.”

“He does, Jeonghan,” you argued. “My name is the last thing he’ll have. I won’t allow it.”

At that, he freed his grip on your wrists, but he did not step back. “Fine,” he breathed, clearing his throat once. “I won’t let it happen.”

“I’ll play along during the ceremony, but I won’t say yes,” you conditioned, feeling more at ease once he conceded to you. 

Jeonghan closed his eyes briefly, his eyelids fluttering as he released a sigh of resignation. “You know I don’t want you to do this,” he muttered reluctantly. “You know I’d fucking kill him tonight if there wasn’t so much to lose.”

“Don’t expect me to agree to do things I don’t want,” you replied, the weight of your reaction finally falling on your shoulders.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve–I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m just–, I can’t stop thinking that he knows,” he stammered, blinking utter obfuscation.

“I know,” you whispered.

“I just want to get this over with,” he muttered tiredly, much as if it had drained him to argue with you. And you knew that it was likely, as your body came down from the stress of fighting with him, your limbs grew heavy.

“Trust me, me too,” you dared lifting a hand and cupping the side of his neck. “Listen, when this is all over, we could go somewhere for a while, to forget about this, yeah?”

Jeonghan smiled lazily at you. “You’re not mad at me anymore?” he quipped mischievously.

“Oh, you’re not off the hook yet,” you pointed, giggling shamefully. “I’m still mad, but I will let it slide for now.”

“Mmn,” he hummed pensively, cupping the back of your head, fingers tangling with your hair as he pulled you into a feather-light kiss. “We could go to London,” he muttered. “Or Barcelona.”

“I’d like that,” you whispered into his lips.

“You could take your anger out on me then,” he mumbled, giving you quick heated kisses.

“What about you?” you asked with a low hum as his hand clutched at your waist. “Are you still mad at me?”

“Absolutely,” he said under his breath, even though the sound came ragged, you could feel the smirk spreading on his lips slowly. “Raising your voice at me, hitting me, saying I’m the same as him… You’re in big trouble.”

“Am I?” you challenged, enjoying that glint in his eyes when you pulled back. “You know I didn’t mean that last part,” you said sheepishly. “I was just mad.”

“I like it when you’re mad,” he grunted, his arm sliding on the small of your back to pull you in closer to his body. “I’m afraid I like it a little too much.”

“Seriously?” you giggled, shaking your head at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you like getting on my nerves,” he muttered, kissing you so obsessively that you hummed, trying to pull away from his continuous kisses.

“Jeonghan,” you mumbled, muffling out a short gasp when he started kissing you deeper.

“What?” he replied aloofly.

“There are people in here,” you gasped, pushing a hand on his chest, breaking away from his lips with great reluctance.

“I really don’t care. Do you?” he challenged, grabbing your face with one hand, and squeezing your cheeks a little.

“Jeonghan!” you squealed, giggling in his mouth as his hands slipped on your waist pushing you against the side of the table, your lower back firmly pressed against it.

“What?” he spat now, but you knew he was just challenging you with his tone, his dark eyes piercing your face.

“They’re watching,” you whispered, motioning to the men standing by the entrance to the hangar.

“And?”

At that, you knew you had nothing to say. In the short time you had come to know Jeonghan, you knew he did not give a flying fuck about what people said about him. And he knew that no one would even bat an eye if he decided to take you right there on the table. It was nothing foreign to him, or you now that you were his.

“Do you mind that they’re watching baby?” he asked softly, his hand sliding from your lower back to your waist, squeezing you gently. “You did not have anything to say when we did this back at the workshop…”

You giggled in his mouth when he pressed a chaste kiss on yours.

“Or at the old factory…” he husked, pressing a wet kiss on the underside of your jaw. “Or in the garage…”

And he could go on and on.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head to one side so he could continue marking your neck with his kisses.

“I hate fighting with you,” he confessed, his voice low in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You know that. But you love arguing with me.”

“I don’t,” you breathed, excitement building up in the pit of your stomach, making your fingers tremble in nervousness.

“Don’t lie. You love to rattle me, I think you like to see me mad,” he said, cupping your cheek with one hand to command your gaze to his.

Jeonghan was a different person whenever he got mad. Whenever he was working, he was cold and calculated. Whenever he was with you, he was sweet and caring. But sometimes, you did not know what to expect.

But the truth was, you also liked it when he was mad. Only after the conflict dies down or is resolved, is when you think of how strangely alluring he is whenever he is angry at something.

And Jeonghan knew. 

“Only sometimes,” you replied, flustered by his kisses.

“Mmn, yeah I know,” he said, pressing more kisses on your neck again.

Jeonghan tugged at the hem of the neck of your blouse to uncover more of your skin. He leaned down to kiss your collarbones, humming delightfully when in the process he got the smell of your perfume.

“Jeonghan,” you sighed, closing your eyes when his hands came to cup your breasts, enjoying that your bralette allowed him to feel your nipples over the fabric.

“What?” he answered, lifting his head to be eye to eye with you.

You gaped at him for a second, burning under your skin. “Are you going to punish me?”

“Mmm, maybe,” he taunted, a wolfish grin slowly tugging his lips. “Do you want it, baby?” he asked, his tone dropping to a sweeter one.

You bit your lip, nodding your head dumbly.

An airy giggle was muffled in your mouth as he leaned to kiss you, moving down to your ear. “You’re such a needy girl,” he rasped, against your skin, making it prickle. “Open your mouth.”

He cupped your jaw in his palm, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he leaned closer to spit on your open mouth. His warm spit landed perfectly on your tongue, nearly making you swallow as an instinct.

Blushing, you looked at him with your mouth hanging open, waiting for his command. He released your jaw, but you did not dare to close your mouth. Jeonghan smiled at this, knowing that you would wait until he permitted you to do so.

“Close it,” he said, and you did what he asked, but did not swallow. His eyes shone with fascination, looking at you before he decided to let you swallow his spit. “Swallow, baby.”

When you did, he gave you a rewarding kiss, but you knew that the punishment had just begun. “Tell me what you did wrong.”

“I talked down to you,” you replied, squirming slightly when his hands grabbed you by the waist.

“What else?”

“I yelled at you,” you added airily. His hands went down to your hips, going underneath your skirt to feel your thighs, cupping your ass over your tights with a low grunt from him.

“There’s more.”  

You hummed shortly, cupping his nape with one hand, the other clinging onto his shoulder as he groped your ass, kissing your neck. “I hit you. I cursed at you,” you mumbled, feeling hot in the face when you heard hushed voices in the distance.

“There’s one more,” he husked, ignoring that you were both being on open sight.

“I compared you to him,” you stammered. “I said you were just like him…”

“Am I?” he asked, grabbing your hips to turn you around.

“No,” you said, leaning over the table as his hand pressed on your back, the other hiking your skirt up. You crossed your arms beneath your head, hiding your face away from the men that clearly saw Jeonghan bending you over the table.

“I didn’t hear that,” he muttered gruffly.

“You’re not like him,” you said louder, gasping pathetically when you felt his fingers pinching the flimsy material of your tights, ripping a hole into them easily. “I said it to spite you.”

The slap resounded all around you, followed by your yelp. Jeonghan caressed your ass where he just had delivered a firm spank. You muffled a moan when he gave you a second spank, making you ball your hands into fists.

Jeonghan enjoyed this. He liked to take you whenever and wherever he pleased, he did not care if there was someone around, as long as you were in on it too. He liked to see how far you could go with him, and so far, you had never said no.

You enjoyed this just as much as he did.

“Do you like that, sweetheart?” he asked gruffly, giving you another spank that sounded even louder than the other two, this one hurt so bad it had tears brimming in your eyes.

But you just burned for more. “Yes,” you mumbled lewdly. Your skin was hot, tingling, and sore. You felt your arousal starting to pool in your panties.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir,” you replied.

“Good girl,” he sighed, bringing his hand down on your ass again.

“God,” you coiled your fingers tighter, moaning when his hand caressed your sore area.

“What do you want, baby?” he asked with a lazy tone, caressing your skin lovingly with one hand, while the other kept your skirt up.

“I need you,” you drawled at once, your cheeks radiating with embarrassment that you did not even want to be worked up. “Don’t play with me... please, sir.”

Jeonghan laughed, making you bite the inside of your cheek and close your eyes. “I’m just getting started,” he sighed, tearing the hole in your tights further. “Want my cock already?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, covering your face with your forearms. “Want it so bad… ngh–,”

His fingers prodded in the middle part of your panties. A flashing thought told you that he might just rip them in two, but instead, he gently moved them aside, using two fingertips to rub your entrance.

“Mmn, baby this got you so wet,” he sighed, pushing his fingers inside you, eliciting a raw moan out of you, so loud that you were sure now that everyone was fully aware of what Jeonghan was doing to you if they were not before.

“Please…” you drawled, squishing your cheek on the table closing your eyes to focus on his long fingers massaging your walls. “I need your cock so bad. Please, sir.”

“Mmn,” he hummed, causing wet sounds to come from the thrusts of his fingers inside you.

Your face was blazing hot, to the point you felt the tips of your ears pulsating with warmth too. “Please, Jeonghan… I’ll be good, please. I won’t talk to you like that again.”

“Why should I believe you this time, baby?” he asked with a soft tone. “I remember punishing you for that exact thing last time.”

“I’ll let you… I’ll let you breed me.”

His fingers stilled inside you, and you heard a soft sigh that made you think that he was smiling. “Fuck… fuck, baby,” he let out a raspy chuckle.

You turned your head over your shoulder, sending him a meek look as he undid the button of his jeans with one hand, while he pulled his fingers out of you, taking them onto his mouth to lick your arousal off.

In quick succession, he moved the zipper of his pants down, pulling his cock out. A shudder flashed all over your body when you noticed the precum smeared on his reddened cockhead, he was fully hard for you.

“You’re not winning this time,” he rasped, placing a hand on the small of your back before he began pushing his cock inside you.

Your jaw went slack, a raw moan spilling from deep within you as his cock stretched your walls open. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” you mewled lewdly.

He sheathed himself inside you with a guttural moan, your walls throbbing around him as he pulled back slightly, and pushed in, thrusting shallowly inside you. “So fucking tight,” he sighed blissfully, closing his eyes.

“Jeonghan!” you urged lewdly, trying to get him to understand that you needed him to fuck you harder, faster.

“Shut up,” he snarled. “You don’t get to make demands,” he said, pleased that he was in control, making you utterly his.

You gasped, pushing yourself with your hands on the table to try and meet his hips with your own.

But Jeonghan stopped your plan at once, bringing his hand on your ass with a harsh spank. “Stop that,” he ordered. “Be a good slut for me and behave,” he said darkly.

“Please,” you sighed, pressing your forehead on the table. “Faster…”

“You’ll take what I give you,” he said, pushing his hips against slowly, his hips meeting your ass passionately as if he wanted to explore your walls with his cock inch by inch.

You imagined what the other guys in the hangar would think of this. Were they watching? Would they get turned on? You sneaked a look at the three figures standing by the entrance. They were pretending to be busy with something else, chatting with each other.

Jeonghan noticed where your gaze wandered to. A hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you in, so you were now standing up, back arched for his powerful thrusts. You whimpered at the change, feeling his cock hit a glorious spot inside you and kept ramming in on you.

“Jeonghan,” you choked out, barely even making out his name.

“Do you like that they’re watching you?” he asked, nudging the tip of his nose below your earlobe. “Eh? Do you like that they can hear how fucking wet your pussy is?”

You let out a shaky moan, grabbing his hand that was circling your neck, keeping you up as he delivered more powerful thrusts inside you. Feeling him raw, hard, and ramming fast inside you made you so horny you felt like crying. You wanted him so bad, and the mere thought that he had no intentions of stopping, or to come on your skin made you irrational, animalistic.

“Yeah,” you mewled, holding onto the table with your other hand.

The hard and fast manner in which he plowed on you was making your body bump into the table in front of you, making it squeak.

Seungcheol raised his gaze swiftly at you and quickly drew it elsewhere, the unwilled act of making eye contact with him drove you to moan louder, your pussy walls clamping down on him.

“Fuck, baby,” Jeonghan sighed blissfully in your ear. “Such a needy slut for me, so good.”

You nodded your head dumbly.

“You’re mine,” he growled, pushing his hips sloppily against your ass, the sound of his skin slapping against yours resounding across the place. “I’m gonna knock you up. Make you mine forever.”

“God, yes, yes, Jeonghan,” you gasped, arching your back more for his thrusts.

“I’m gonna put a baby in you… gonna be so round and pretty with our baby,” he said, his voice waning under so much pleasure and that mad frenzy he got into whenever he even thought about knocking you up.

“Please, please, please, ah—gah!” you moaned loudly, now drawing Mingyu’s gaze your way, then making him lower his face in utter shame.

“Keep watching them,” he ordered in your ear, thrusting hard and fast, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he made you his forever… before he would spill his seed inside you. “I want them to see how good you are for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” you said languidly, looking at the men pretending to pace from one side to another on their perimeter patrol. Wonwoo was the only one that had not looked your way, but you were completely sure that he was aware that you were being fucked by Jeonghan.

“Good girl,” he sighed, releasing his grip on your neck to slip it underneath your bralette to cup your tits with a raw moan. “That’s what you are, a good fucking girl for me.”

You grew more and more embarrassed, but you could not stop watching them, fishing for more reactions. None of them dared to look at you again, but from the looks they exchanged with each other, you could tell that your loud noises had rattled them.

“Jeonghan…” you called breathily.

“Sshhh,” he placed a sweet kiss under your earlobe, his hand slipping down to your tummy. “I’m gonna come, and you’re going to take it all. I’m gonna make you a mommy.”

“Please, I wanna come too,” you said, turning your head so you could see his face. “Please?”

Jeonghan showed you a light smirk, he looked tired and overwhelmed with pleasure. “That’s too bad, sweetheart. You’re not coming tonight.”

“Bu-but Jeonghan–,”

“Sssh,” he brought a hand to your cheek, giving you a chaste kiss, gasping softly before placing his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m coming—, god, baby, fuck. Fuuuck.”

“Hannie,” you uttered your last plea, but you knew it was too late.

“You’re mine, you’re mine, you’re mine…” he gasped, over and over, as he pressed his hand flatly on your tummy, pushing his hips languidly against your ass, spilling ropes of cum inside you.

You knew by the amount of sloppy thrusts he gave you that he came a lot inside you. You moaned at the thought of him coming inside you, painting your walls with his cum, repeating obsessively that you were his, no one else’s.

Jeonghan breathed raggedly on your shoulder, keeping his hand on your tummy for long enough until he started rubbing small circles with the pad of his thumb. He slowly raised his head, placing a small kiss on your shoulder over your clothes, then on your bare neck, then on your cheek.

“My pretty girl, you drive me insane,” he rasped, sighing a giggle.

“I’m sorry,” you drawled lazily, turning again so you could see his beautiful eyes.

“No, you’re not,” he cooed at you, his smile growing wider. “I know you. I know you’re not sorry.”

You giggled with him, instantly being swarmed by a fluttering feeling deep within your gut.

Jeonghan stilled, his smile starting to disappear little by little. The corner of his mouth twitched, and his eyes roamed all over your features. He pulled out of you then, his fingers swiftly placing your panties back in place to keep his cum from spilling out down your legs.

“I’ll take you home,” he decided coldly, tucking himself back into his pants at once.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you muttered, confused by his sudden change, by the dejectedness in which he had started to handle himself.

“No, no arguing with me on this one,” he said with a finality in his demeanor that made you know he was not going to take more of your retorts.

“Fine,” you huffed, fixing your clothes with a pout on your face.

“What?” he arched one eyebrow.

“You could’ve at least let me come.”

Jeonghan’s face broke into a smile, tipping his head back to laugh out loud. “You asked me to punish you,” he shrugged.

You climbed onto the passenger seat of Jeonghan’s big SUV with a sigh, fixing the folds of your pretty skirt.

“Hey,” Jeonghan held your door open with one hand, stopping you from closing it. “Baby, look at me,” he said.

Your tummy fluttered upon hearing the sweet tone he used with you. “Yes?”

Jeonghan leaned inside the car and over you, sneaking two fingers beneath your jaw. “You know I would never put you in harm’s way, right?” he asked, and you could see on his face how much that question had messed him up. He drew his eyebrows in, and you saw a glint in his eyes you had never seen on him.

“Yeah,” you said, lifting a hand to his cheek, feeling sick for making him think that he was the same as your fiancé. “I know, babe.”

Jeonghan pressed his forehead against yours, nudging the tip of your nose with his own. “We’re almost there, sweetheart. We are so close to ending all of this,” he muttered. “Then it’ll be just you and me…”

“I know. And I know this stresses you out. But please, try to be more considerate,” you replied with a small smile that he felt as he pressed his lips against yours.

He giggled softly. “Alright,” he conceded with a raspy voice, pressing more kisses on your lips. “I’ll be more considerate. Just because my favorite girl asks.”

“Ah, favorite girl?” you backed off a little to show him an impish smile. “Does that mean you have other girls?”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but you could tell he was amused. “Yes. Many.”

“Mm, I’m falling behind. I should get other boys, then,” you giggled.

“Shut up,” he sighed, bringing you to his face to kiss you more. “So annoying.”

 You let out a louder cackle, making his eyes shine with that fascination he never failed to show whenever you laughed with him.

Jeonghan went still ever so softly in front of you. He was a man who was completely enamored with his job You knew that his yearning for crime was greater than anything else in his life.

But at that moment, you felt how deeply he felt about you. The way he looked at you, was unmistakable, Yoon Jeonghan was in love. But you also knew it would be hard for him to say it out loud. You were becoming his weakness, so you weren't surprised to see fear in his gaze as well.

That is why you could not bring yourself to say it either. Your love for him was so strong, so passionate that it scared you.

“Boss.”

Jeonghan stood up straight, turning his head over his shoulder to see Jeon Wonwoo approaching with a cautious step. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, motioning a hand before tucking it to his back. “But I think I found it. I found the warehouse.”

“Are you sure this time?”

Wonwoo nodded once. “Positive. I just got a confirmation from my guy, and it seems that there’s going to be a buyout in two hours.”

“Get the boys, tell them to get ready,” Jeonghan ordered without a second thought. “I’ll be back here in half an hour to cover the essentials.”

“Yes, boss,” Wonwoo nodded once again, walking away promptly.

Jeonghan said nothing else to you, closing the passenger door to go around the car, slipping on the driver seat, and turning the engine on swiftly. “Let’s get you home.”

“What was that about?” you asked with genuine curiosity.

“Wonwoo has been looking for your sister. He thinks he just found her,” he said with an aloof manner as he focused on backing up the car to then put it on Drive, his hand resting on the stick for some seconds before switching to palm your thigh gently. “I’m going with them to stake it out later tonight.”

“Will you be safe?” you asked sweetly at him, grabbing his hand on your thigh, and lacing your fingers with his.

“Course I will,” he replied warmly.

When you got back to your apartment, you decided to clean up at once. One, you had to eliminate all traces that Jeonghan fucked you. So you trashed your ruined tights and your panties. And then you took a long shower, thinking of what Jeonghan told you before dropping you off.

You were towel drying your hair, dragging yourself on your slippers and a robe to the living room where you stopped short at the sight of your fiancé. “Oh, hi honey,” you blurted nervously. “How are you?” you asked with an overly sweet tone. But as he approached, you noticed that he was getting ready to head out again. “Are you busy tonight?”

“Yeah,” he replied distractedly, approaching you to place a swift kiss on your mouth, which you were too surprised to reciprocate. “I was heading out to check on some deliveries and then I wanted us to grab dinner. So, get changed. We’re heading out in five minutes.”

Some moments later, you sat on one side of the backseat of a car. Both you and Hyunjun kept silent as the chauffeur drove you to a large warehouse near the docks of the city. You looked at your fiancé curiously.

“Stay here,” he had instructed before exiting the car. And you were smart and did the right thing. For about five minutes.

The warehouse stored columns upon columns of cement bags piled on each other. They looked like small buildings as you carefully treaded your way in search of your fiancé. He already believed that you were a complete fool, so you could explore here and come up with some lame excuse if he found you. And at the same time, you would gather intel for Jeonghan. What kind of business would Hyunjun have here?  

It was an odd place, that was for sure. But you knew what kind of places gangs usually did their buyouts. This was not weird for you. So you let your intuition win and guide you, leading you down a hall full of doors. You opened them one by one, finding empty rooms. Until you opened one that did not.

Kiki was lying on a dirty old couch. She looked like she had moved in a long time. Her face was hidden beneath a cushion. You felt nauseous, heart racing in your chest as you rushed to the couch, dropping to your knees to try and turn her body over.

She was cold and frail. There was dirt collecting on her cheeks and you could see tears had dried on her skin. Her lips were chapped, and there was a bruise on one of her bony cheekbones.

“Kiki?” you whispered, using your trembling fingers to touch her, but you were so afraid to do so. “Kiki, it’s me. Wake up.”

You started crying, she was in such a frail state your mind started racing, fearing for the worst. But you had to calm yourself down, you had to act quickly for her. So you brought one finger under her nose, by her lips. And waited.

The hairs of your finger bristled when she let out the softest exhale. You checked your surroundings before deciding you would get her out of there, right there and then.

A chill ran down your spine when you tried cradling her weak body in your arms. Not because you could not do it, but because it came easily to you, being that she was so light.

Your heart pounded in your ears as you moved through the hall full of different doors, making your way out as quietly as possible, not drawing the attention of anyone, let alone your unassuming fiancé.

But that was until the first unmistakable sound of gunshots crossed the air. You stopped your escape cold, a wave of cold washing over you when you realized something. This was the warehouse Wonwoo had mentioned. Why were you here? Why had Hyunjun brought you here?

More gunshots were fired, a tumultuous happening in the distance. You took a few steps, glancing down the hallway. The warehouse esplanade was crammed with towers of cement-lined bags. The first column served as a good hiding place while you looked for a way out, so you decided to move quickly.

Carefully, you crouched to your knees, Kiki still unconscious in your arms. Panting, you took the chance to glance again, finding your fiancé’s man unconscious on the ground. It was as if there was no space in your brain to worry about anything else, all focus was on getting Kiki out of there.

But… where is Hyunjun? It was just a fleeting thought. Maybe you could drag Kiki to the nearest SUV. Maybe you would be lucky enough to find the keys stashed somewhere. Maybe you could wait until the gunfire stops.

“Sister?”

You dropped your knees on the ground for support, looking at your sister’s face. She opened her eyes weakly, your chest tightening when you saw how dead they were. Vacant, like a lifeless doll.

“Yes, Kiki. It’s me,” you cooed softly, ignoring the loud banging around you, the screaming.

“Is this real?”

Tears spilled from your eyes quickly, making you sniffle. “Yes. Yes, sweetie, this is real,” you replied sadly.

She gave you no reply, and you realized she was drifting away again. You needed to act now, you needed to find the nearest hospital. You needed to save her.

And in your hurry to get her to safety, you got more reckless.

Quickly, an idea formed in your head. You could get Kiki to one of the cars. You just needed a clear way out of the warehouse without being hit.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

There was a sinking feeling inside you as you lifted your head to look at Seungcheol. At seeing your startled reaction, he lifted his palms onto view.

“Easy,” he warned, approaching you carefully to not draw any attention. “Is she alive?”

“Yeah,” you panted, saying the next words in a quick slurry mess. “Hyunjun brought me here, I don’t know why. Told me to wait in the car. But I just got a hunch that she’d be here.”

“Fuck,” he said under his breath. But he crouched in front of you, a darkness in his gaze that had your gut twisting tighter. “Hyunjun is dead.”

There is nothing that could compare to the relief that washed over you when you heard those words. But you also felt a heavy guilt falling upon you. Seungcheol looked worried, not like a man who just won a war.

“That… that’s good, isn’t it?” you stuttered.

“Listen carefully,” he said, his shifty gaze not quite focusing on you. “I’m going to take your sister into one of the vans and then I’ll come back for you, you hear me?”

You frowned confusedly. “What’s happening, Seungcheol? Where is Jeonghan?”

“Hyunjun got betrayed by his men,” he said, and then you understood the burden of the situation. “He got betrayed by your dad’s men.”

“C-could my dad have done this?” you asked dumbly. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t know, we don’t know. He was dead before Jeonghan could even get to him,” he blurted uncontrollably, he was shaking. “Chances are that this is a sting op because half of the people out there are also cops.”

“What?” your chest tightened painfully. “Jeonghan is here?”

“There’s no time for that right now,” he said, grabbing your sister’s limp body from your grasp. “Stay hidden. I’ll come back for you.”

It had become hard to breathe. The feeling twisting your guts made you recoil back against the hard column behind you, trying to hug limbs to keep yourself out of sight.

The commotion kept on going, screams, grunts, gunshots. But you could not pay attention to that, you wanted to cover your ears, but at the same time, you needed to remain alert. You could tell that people were approaching your hiding place, and you made a motion to gather yourself to start running.

But the man came in front of your view before you could even stand up, pointing a gun at you, you made a move to crawl away, to move out of the way. He fired once, twice, the latter hitting you in the small of your back, the bullet penetrating you making your muscles contract and grow hot.

You felt confused the first second. You slumped down on the ground, then you tried to press a hand on your tummy. It was then that you felt the searing-hot pain.

Confused still, you lifted your gaze to see the man that just shot you. He was lying dead on the ground, a knife lodged in his bleeding neck.

You felt limp, your head lolling to one side before your body also dropped to the ground. A tall figure approached you fast, it was Seungcheol. He said he would come back to you.

“No, no, no, no,” he muttered, grabbing your body, and swiftly lifting you. “Stay with me, stay with me,” he said louder.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered drowsily, still feeling an echo of confusion invading your brain.

“He’s on his way back to the hangar. We’re going there,” he informed you promptly, knowing that the worry would kill you before the wide-open wound on your belly.  

“And Kiki?”

“She’s fine, we’re getting you both out of here,” Seungcheol said as he placed you in the back seat of the car, then barked some orders to someone nearby. “Get inside now.”

Kim Mingyu climbed on the back seat of the car, the deep frown on his face going lax once he took one look at you. “Fuck, she’s bleeding,” he said, looking at Seungcheol who was just closing the door to his side.

“Help her,” he ordered, driving away at full speed.

“What happened?” he asked with a worried tone, the man who was all muscle and cunning was breaking down in front of your eyes.

“She got shot,” Seungcheol gritted, sending a look through the rearview mirror. “Don’t let her pass out.”

“Let’s get you on your back,” Mingyu said, motioning over to his lap where you automatically let your head drop, lying across the back seat. “I’m going to do something you won’t like, okay?”

Mingyu waited for no confirmation from your part, and pressed one of his large hands on your belly, right where the wound was.

You cried out loudly. “Fuck! It hurts, it hurts,” you stammered, tears springing out of your eyes immediately, you tried to back away, to free yourself from Mingyu’s grasp. But you were becoming weak, and the pain numbed the rest of your senses quickly.

“Does Jeonghan know?” Mingyu asked with a heavy tone, you could not make out his face between the shadows of the car.

There was a long moment before Seungcheol replied, and it was only one word burdened with a severity that you feared. “Yes.”

Mingyu cursed under his breath. “Bullet got through, she’s bleeding out quickly,” Mingyu informed loudly, keeping steady despite Seungcheol’s fast driving. “Is the doctor on the way?”

“Wonwoo’s already told Joshua to get to the hangar as soon as possible.”

“I know it hurts, but try not to move,” Mingyu muttered at you when you tried to get his hand off your belly.

You were a mess, squirming, crying, growing drowsy, babbling out nonsense.

Sooner than you had expected, the car was pulling up to the hangar. Seungcheol jumped out to get your body from the passenger’s seat. “Get the sister inside,” he ordered Mingyu as he carried you inside hurriedly.

You were neatly placed on a cold surface, squinting your eyes at a pale white light. You were in a small room, you spotted Seungcheol’s face, he was smeared with blood all over, a worried look plastered on him.

“Where is she?” you heard Jeonghan’s voice before you could even register where you were. Jeonghan came into view, looking so pale you thought he was sick.

“I’m alright,” you sighed weakly, your belly had stopped hurting, it just pulsated in between intervals. You knew you were trying to ease his worry, though it was futile, it was worth the try. “I’m okay.”

Jeonghan did not reply, approaching you with two big steps and started looking at the damage. “Give me a cloth, something to press on the wound,” he ordered and some seconds later, someone handed him what looked like a flannel shirt and started pressing on your belly again, making a drawn-out cry come out of you. “I’m sorry, baby, I have to do this.”

You gritted your teeth, breathing rapidly. “Jeonghan,” you called.

“You’re going to be okay, baby,” he spoke softly, and although your lucidity had started to wane, you knew he was worried for you. His eyes were teary, his eyebrows withdrawn, and his hands were shaking, pressed to your belly.

Your vision became blurry and bright, forcing you to close your heavy eyelids and swallow hard.

Not yet, not yet, not yet. You knew you were dying now. “Jeonghan,” you whispered, your jaw trembling slightly.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Jeonghan replied, still keeping his tone sweet for you. But he was heaving, looking at you with so much worry that you nearly broke down into tears.

But you were growing weaker by the second, you could feel your blood pooling on the table you were lying.

Jeonghan’s breathing became ragged, you knew he had started to cry. What you saw in his teary eyes was pure, and utter fear. “Baby?” he breathed.

“I’m cold,” you muttered weakly.

“Hold on,” he whispered shakily, tears brimming in his eyes as he leaned over your body, pressing with more strength on your tummy. “You’re going to be fine, help is coming.”

“Jeonghan,” you asked softly, pain had eased a while ago, you could only feel the muscles of your face, the rest of your body starting to grow numb. You took his wrist, but the man pressed harder at your tummy.

“Yes?” he breathed.

You blinked dumbly when warm tears fell on your face. “Let’s run away,” you whispered weakly.

“Where?” he muttered, his voice breaking as he sniffled quietly.

You did not reply, it was becoming harder to form thoughts, your mouth was numb, and you were sure you were drifting away now. Far away, you wanted to tell him. But never found the energy to do so.

“Where, baby?” he insisted, tears rolling down his cheeks. You wanted to tell him to stop crying, you hated to see him cry. “Baby? Please, please, talk to me, sweetheart. Don’t close your eyes, keep looking at me.”

You said nothing, and although you heard every word he said, you were finding it difficult to understand him. All you could think of was that you regretted not telling him you loved him. And now you were leaving him, and he would never know.

A gentle exhale came out of your mouth, you blinked one last time. Jeonghan’s tear-stained face was the last thing you saw before everything faded to black. But you could still hear the door bursting open, a dry voice telling Jeonghan it was time to go.

“No,” he gritted. “I’m not leaving her.”

“It’s now or never!” Seungcheol barked. “Jeonghan, they’re coming.”

A new set of hands took over. “She’s going to be fine. Step away, please, so I can get to work,” the new voice said with a calm tone.

“If she dies–,”

“If she dies, and they find you here, it’s over for all of us. If she survives and you stay here, it’s over for all of us including her.”

His cold hands released their grip on your body with a reluctance that you could feel even with your eyes closed. A ghostly kiss was placed on your forehead, it was quick, but you could make out his final promise.

“Wait for me, baby. We’ll find each other again,” he whispered.

And then you drifted to sleep.

› epilogue

The streets of the town were deserted.

Jeonghan made his way down the steep sidewalk as the dawn crept on the pavement. The sky was clear, the air felt nice, cold against his skin. As he approached the end of the street, the lake came into his view, making him notice the humidity in the atmosphere.

He cast a look over his shoulder, even though the only thing he could hear around him was the sound of his footsteps, the certainty was what he needed. Every morning, he went out to do some checkups, just to appease the paranoia in his head.

His hands got clammy as he approached the door, turning the handle quietly as to not make any noise, and pushed inside, tucking one hand behind his back.

“There you are, I was beginning to wonder,” you chirped softly, arching one eyebrow. “What do you have in there?”

Jeonghan bit down his lower lip, trying to conceal his smile as he showed you a big bouquet of fresh flowers he had hidden behind his back.

Your face fell in shock, making the man burst out chuckling. “What’s this? You got me flowers?”

He paced inside the tiny home, handing you the flowers. “Just because,” he said, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Mmm, you’re in a good mood this morning,” you grinned, closing your eyes due to the proximity of his face to your own.

But you accepted the bouquet, running the pads of your fingers on one of the soft white petals.

“I’m just really lucky,” he muttered, swiftly reading your face, smiling at you.

“Babe,” you tilted your head in utter adoration for him, you lifted a hand to cup his face. “We’ve been through this. We’re fine, were safe.” 

Jeonghan took the hand from his cheek, planting a soft kiss on your palm, shaking his head slightly. “Being on the run with me isn’t fine,” he muttered with a pained look on his face. “You deserve a better life.”

In fact, you were laying low in a quiet town in a different country. You have had to start over again multiple times since you ran off with him. Jeonghan was implicated in the events that went down that night and he had to run away, leaving you behind.

Jeonghan kept his promise. Your sister was safe, and you could start from zero now.

The journey to finding him was not easy. It took you months to get even a sign of life from his part, and you knew he only wanted to make sure you were safe before he tried to seek you out.

It was even harder to convince him to come to where he was. But you waited, knowing that it would take him some time and insisting to concede.

You lowered the bouquet on the table, now using your other hand to brush his short hair back. “Hannie, don’t say that,” you whispered. “All I want is to be with you. I’m happy, and I’m safe.”

But you knew he was heavily ridden with guilt, feeling that it was his fault that you got shot and injured. And now that you had to be on the run with him, he felt like you were not living a worthy life.

He pushed his eyebrows in question, pouting softly. “Happy?”

You giggled at his expression, looking so innocent and cute. “The happiest,” you muttered, wrapping his neck with your arms.

His gaze relaxed once he heard your laugh, lifting a hand to pinch your chin as the other squeezed your waist. “I’ll make you even happier.”

You smiled as you pulled him into a kiss. “Thank you for the flowers. I love them,” you whispered. “I love you.”

“For my favorite girl,” he replied in kind. “I love you too, baby.”

› author's note: hi there beautiful readers! (●'◡'●) i want to start this note by saying that i struggle with writing about dark themes such as this one, (gangster-related things). so this served as an exercise/challenge? i hope you like it! anyways, toodles support me on ko-fi? © RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[dollilacs]

Hi! I'd like to request a Dean Winchester smut. Dean and the reader are best friends who have been secretly pining over each other for years. Dean realizes he's in love with the reader when the reader is getting hit on while working a case or something. Dean starts crossing the line in the Impala on the drive back to the bunker or motel room, they fully cross the line when they get to the bunker or motel room. Dean shows the reader that they're his girl.

My Girl. ⋆.ೃ࿔:･

Pairing: Jealous!Dean x Reader | Supernatural

note: this is my first request! Thank you sm I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you wanted but I hope you can still enjoy!

cw: 18+!, language, unprotected piv (wrap it up), dom!dean, sub!reader, def has grammar mistake and missing words. (tell me if I missed anything else)

masterlist. join taglist. / song rec: Jealous, By Nick Jonas

you and dean had been best friends for years, obviously you’re both hunters and while you had a crush on dean you never exactly made a move.

you didn’t wanna ruin the friendship, especially since you knew he didn’t like you back. It just felt impossible if he did.

plus you were to shy to admit anything to him, as much as you were open about your feelings. You couldn’t be open about these feelings with him.

you sat in the passenger seat of baby, searching anything else about the thing you were hunting “dean check this out, there was another reported body, same injuries, same missing body parts.” dean glanced over at your computer and gave you a nod of approval.

“good job, kid” you rolled your eyes at the nickname.

“this was off a college campus too, so we might have more witnesses or her closest friends to work with.” You said, glancing over at dean.

“great, college kids.” Dean grumbled under his breath “I was a college kid, old man.” he shoots you a glare “what did I tell you about calling me that.”

“and what did I say about you calling me a kid.” You shot back, his mouth opened but immediately closed it and looked back at the road.

“where’s the damn college.” dean grumbled as he gripped onto the steering wheel tighter, a smile tugged on your lips “about.. 200 miles out.” You said, earning a sharp exhale from dean “god damnit.”

the next day you both arrived at the college campus and investigated the victim’s teachers and friends, you let out a sharp sigh “does the last dude really have to be a frat boy?”

a smirk creeped up on deans face “never had much luck with them huh?” dean sneered, you shook your head and rolled your eyes “you’re immature.” You mumbled out.

you give the door a firm knock before it swung open, revealing a shirtless guy with only sweatpants on. Your eyes slightly widened at the sight in front of you “may I help you?” The guy asked leaning against his door.

“yeah- you’re Travis right?” Dean asked, earning a nod from the boy “the one and only.” A smile tugged on your lips “well Travis, what do you know about Amy Steinfeld” you asked.

“who wants to know?” Travis asked kissing his teeth “oh- right! I’m fbi agent.. Carter and this is my partner smith.” You said as you grabbed your badge from the side and held it out in front of Travis face.

Travis gave you a smile and tilted his head in amusement “didn’t know the fbi was hiding away all the pretty girls.” dean gave Travis a sharp stare when he heard those words leave the guys mouth.

you let out an uncomfortable chuckle “just tell me what you know about Amy Steinfeld” dean said in a deep, sharp tone. Travis glanced over at dean “do you always rudely interrupt people when they’re trying to pick up girls.” Travis said.

you could feel the strong tension between the three of you, you cleared your throat “uh- Travis.. we just really need to know what happened to amy that night.” Travis gave you a nod “sure I’ll be nice enough to tell you, sweetheart.”

deans face turned serious and mean, he clicked his tongue at Travis calling you that nickname.

dean felt threatened by a college kid and for what? He was just a college jerk. Dean had this feeling of jealousy burning through him and he didn’t exactly know why.

was it just- possessiveness? Dean would sometimes get possessive or scared when he thought the person might hurt you.

but in this matter dean was possessive over the fact that this loser was hitting on you, dean was in love with you first. There was no way this jackass would be making a move.

after the conversation with Travis you and dean had left the frat house.

The walk to the car was rather quiet but when you got inside the car dean was all talking.

Before you could even buckle yourself in dean started asking questions “do you think.. Travis is your type?” Dean asked, making you freeze.

You let out an awkward chuckle “what would make you ask that?” You said, buckling in your seatbelt.

“well just the way he was talking to you.” dean said as he began to reverse out of the college campus, you shrugged.

“you mean trying to hit on me? Yeah didn’t work out much..” you mumbled as you opened your computer, dean glanced at you “are you sure? I mean- I swore I could’ve seen you blushing.”

You looked over at dean and saw nothing but jealousy on his face “why do you care so much? I mean it’s not like.. you’re in love with me or something,” Dean seemed to freeze at your sudden words.

he bit down on his lip, you weren’t trying to make it sound like a teasing joke. You were serious, it’s not like he was actually in love with you— well.. that’s what you thought.

Dean let out a sharp exhale and licked his lips “dean, just admit you feel jealous that other guys hit on me.” Dean scoffed at your words.

why would dean tell you he’s jealous, it wouldn’t change a goddamn thing about how he feels about you. It’s not like you were in love with him too.

You stared at dean waiting for a response but you never got one, you sighed and leaned back into your seat. Fixing your gaze back to your computer.

“Look, i wouldn’t be jealous of some- slob. When I am clearly better.” Dean exclaimed with his jaw tensed, you look back up at dean “the point isn’t who’s better.” You replied.

“Why would it matter if I was in love with you?”

“Why wouldn’t it matter?”

Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel as the voice of that stupid slob calling you ‘sweetheart’ rang through his head.

That was deans nickname for you— on some occasions.

The rest of the car ride to the motel was silent, but that silence soon ended when you both stepped foot into your motel room.

For some reason now, you felt like confronting him about his acting back at the college dorm and in the car.

“dean, you have no right to feel threatened if you’re not in love with me.” You exclaim, in someways it made you so angry.

The way he’d get jealous sometimes but he’d never make a move, you didn’t know why. He was always such a confident man, were you not good enough for him?

Dean scoffed at your words “no right to be- are you kidding me? I have every right!” You blinked rapidly, you were confused and your heart was pounding furiously.

Was dean being a jerk or was he confessing his love for you?

Dean walked over to you and gripped both sides of your arms “you know why I have every right?” Deans breath was heavy and furious.

“Because you’re my girl, and no one— and I mean nobody. Calls you sweetheart only me, no one flirts with you only me.”

You caught your breath and only stared deep into deans green sharp eyes.

Dean grabbed your chin and brought your face closer to his “And I’ll make sure the whole damn world knows.”

With a firm grip dean smashed his lips onto yours, you shut your eyes and placed your hands onto his shoulders.

With one swift movement dean picked you up and you were quick to wrap your thighs around his waist, dean carefully walked over to the bed making sure not to trip over anything.

He laid you onto the bed and got on top of you, dean pulled away but he didn’t go far. His forehead was pressed against yours.

Your shirt was first to go, then your pants and now you were left in your underwear and bra.

Dean swiftly undid your bra and hooked a finger onto the hem of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs and off your body, leaving you completely bare underneath him.

Your breath hitched, you tried to cover up your chest but dean didn’t let you “don’t cover yourself sweetheart.” he pinned your arms above your head.

Dean undressed himself and threw his clothes somewhere on the floor, now there he was. His throbbing cock on display.

You swallowed your saliva at the sight of him, Dean hovered over your body. He slowly leaned down and kissed you once again.

This time the kiss was more aggressive and needy, dean gently nibbled on your bottom lip while he rubbed the head of his cock over your folds.

Dean moaned at the feeling of you already being wet, you softly moaned into his mouth and tangled your hand into his hair.

“So.. wet for me, sweetheart.” Dean whispered, he lines himself up. Dean places one hand on your thigh and pushes half of his length inside of you.

You let out a whimper, your hands grip onto the sheets as his cock stretches you out. You had sex once in your life and you never really did it again.

His cock stretching you out burns, but it feels so good. Dean groans as your wetness coats his cock fully “Jesus baby..” dean gives you time to adjust to him.

His thumb caresses your inner thigh, dean starts placing soft kisses on your neck “you’re so precious baby..” dean whispers in your ear.

His hips roll into yours, you squeeze your eyes shut as he gives you a slow and steady thrust causing a whimper to slip from your lips.

“fuck.. there we go doll.” Dean brushes his thumb over your clit, you bit back your moans. Dean seemed to notice and he didn’t like the fact that you were hiding back the noises he wanted to hear for years.

“don’t hold back now, doll.” Dean assures as he grips onto your soft skin, holding you steady. Dean starts thrusting deep into you without any warning.

Your lips parted and you pushed your head back into the pillow, dean watched as you struggled to keep your eyes open.

He watched as your eyebrows twitched and the way your back arched off the bed as you struggled to take his full length “no one, will ever please you the way I do.” Dean grunts.

His thumb circles over your clit as he thrusts deeper into you, his hips smack against yours. Dean groans when he feels you clenching around his cock.

Your thighs wrapped around him “that’s it sweetheart- you’re my girl, you understand?” You nodded, obediently. Dean leaned down and kissed you sloppily.

“Leave marks-” you breathe out “please dean.” You beg, deans lips leave yours “whatever you want baby.” He hums.

Dean kisses, sucks, and bites down on your neck, leaving hickeys and bite marks for the whole world to see.

You crawled onto deans back, feeling your high getting closer “you- close baby?” Dean breathes out “please- let me.” You begged, digging your nails into his back.

“Just a moment, sweet doll.” Dean grunts out, his hips move with yours. You could feel his cock plunging in and out of you at a rough pace.

Dean buried his face in your neck “I love you so much.” Dean moaned out as his cock twitched inside of you, his thrust became more desperate by the second.

His mouth drops open, his heavy breath hits your neck “I wanna feel you fall apart on my cock-” dean moans out.

And you do, It hits you hard. “God- don’t stop dean.” You chant out like a prayer, rolling your hips on his cock.

Deans hips shudder against yours as he releases his load inside of you, you kept riding out your orgasm.

Dean catches his breath for a second before picking his head up and locking eyes with you, you lick your lips and brush deans damp hair out of his face.

“I love you.. so much dean.” You say as you peck his forehead, dean gives you a tired smile and buries his head back into your neck “I’m never letting you out of my arms.” He mumbles into your ear.

nini yaps: AFTER BEING STUCK ON THIS FOR DAYS AND HOURS I HOPE I DID YOU GUYS SOME GOOD WITH THIS.

© 2025 dollilacs rights , do not copy my works or post on different platforms. <3

note: none of the dividers or pictures belong to me!! all credits go to the owners.

[atrwriting]

on the road again — sam winchester x fem!reader

as always, warnings: smut, rough, choking, dom sam, mean sam, friends with benefits sex, car sex, p in v penetration, one night stand

summary: sam finds out you’ve never had an orgasm

barely edited we die like men

———

usual scene after cracking a case — dive bar, everyone buys a round, greasy food, and a game or two of pool. usually a round consisted of a beer… but tonight? after the case you had? tonight was whisky. and it flowed. and flowed. and flowed.

“i’ve only been doing this for a few years — i don’t know how you and dean can still get up every day and do this,” you spoke, setting your shot glass down.

“dean loves nothing more than work all day, and crawling into someone else’s bed at night —“ sam laughed, taking his shot. “keeps him sane. and him getting laid and not cranky keeps me sane.”

“is sex what keeps you sane?” you asked with a laugh, motioning the bartender over for another round.

“sometimes — not really,” he shook his head.

“same,” you spoke. “casual sex is so hard to enjoy — i don’t care what dean says.”

“why do you say that?” sam chuckled.

“it’s hard enough teaching someone what you like — now you have to tell and expect a stranger to understand, and leave satisfied? that’s a lot of trust in someone i don’t know.”

he laughed again. “fair, but also — you might just have to advocate for what you want more. clear and explicit directions are the way to go.”

you stayed silent, wishing your glass was full once more to do something — anything — to tear away from the awkwardness of the situation. the whiskey had already began to dull your senses, but nothing ever seemed to dull sam’s. you knew he knew with barely a glance in his direction.

“unless you’re not able to convey clear and explicit directions…” he stated.

fuck.

“ok, lawyer,” you scoffed, taking your shot as you tried to hide your embarrassment.

“maybe that’s why you can’t perfect the ‘dean method’,” he spoke, fighting back a laugh, before awkwardness struck his face. “i’m sorry — i shouldn’t — i’m just messing around, is all.”

“you’re good, i know,” you smiled, waving your hand in the air. “but who’s got the time? i swear — it’s so much easier for guys.”

“definitely,” he spoke, and continued in a very technical manner. “i mean, i’ve heard that some women really struggle with even achieving orgasms by themselves.”

“i forgot you were a scholar, winchester,” you spoke, trying to not draw attention to the way your cheeks were reddening.

but with the way he stared at you, his eyes narrowing… you knew he knew your secret.

“you’ve never… before?” he questioned.

“no,” you spoke softly, holding his gaze. awkward topic, sure, but, hey — if he’s bringing it up, he’s got to deal with it.

“wow,” he spoke, letting out a sigh of disbelief. he did that weird thing with his eyes that he usually does when he’s surprised: they go wide, and they blink a few times — as if he could blink away the conversation he definitely regretted starting like an eyelash. “like… ever?”

“never,” you responded, shaking your head.

“wow,” he spoke, taking a swig of his beer. “that’s… that’s…”

“sam, i didn’t break my leg,” you spoke, trying to laugh it off. “i’ve never had an orgasm, but i’m not dead.”

“dean would think you might as well be,” sam quipped.

“agreed,” you chuckled, flagging down the bartender for another drink. “i’ve turned dean down a few times — lil too old for me — but if i get really curious, maybe i’ll —“

“don’t,” he suddenly spoke, shaking his head.

“…hey, you brought up dean and my sex life — this was bound to get uncomfortable,” you giggled.

“i can talk about either when they’re mutually exclusive,” he replied, now keeping his gaze on his beer bottle.

“and you’re also the one that brought up me needing casual sex,” you quipped.

“not with him.”

you rolled your eyes then, but the smile on your lips remained. “dare i ask — who, pray tell?”

you watched as sam took his time answering. he leaned over the bar with both elbows on the counter, letting both muscles strain against the sleeves of his shirt. his skin, lightly tanned, reflected the light from above to show off just how much sam put into working out. you watched the veins in his arms ripple, along with the one in his neck as he swallowed. once he took a final swig of his beer, he stared at you then. and when he finally spoke? well, he only spoke one word: “me.”

a half hour later, you were in the back of the impala. sam had you in his lap, manspreading his strong, long legs. it was hard to be insecure about anything about yourself with sam — he could pick anyone up and throw them if he wanted, so you felt like a goddess in your tight black jeans, grinding your core down onto him.

he had his large hands on your hips — pads of his fingers digging into your flesh. they would push and pull with every roll of your hips you gave. he wanted you as much as you wanted him, and he couldn’t help but want to control and mold it. the way you keened for him? sat so nicely in his lap? ran your hands all over his chest, up and down his neck, and through his hair? the pretty way you pressed your chest into him? oh, he was done for — but sam’s selfish side would be taking over.

“take off your pants and lay back against the door,” he ordered, pressing one last firm kiss to your lips.

you scrambled off of him, pushing your jeans down your legs as sam tried to pull the fabric off. there was nothing but confidence, determination, and hunger in his movements, leaving you with no room for awkwardness.

“your hands feel so good on me,” you rasped. “can you touch me… there?”

you shouldn’t have even had to ask, he thought. he liked to hear your voice, though — especially when it was full of want and need. there was nothing shy about your requests, and there was nothing shy about his response. the pads of sam’s fingers had immediately found your most sensitive bud, drawing rough circles. he had to test the waters, after all — you didn’t know what you liked, but sam winchester would find out. you sucked in a soft breath at the feeling, but all that came out of you was a whine. a whine for sam’s hands. his arms. his chest. his muscles. everything that held him above you and shielded you from the world — hiding you from everything dangerous, while keeping you all to himself.

sam’s lips immediately connected with the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. you hated hickeys, but the way he sucked at your neck? drawing blood to the surface? keeping your attention and thoughts on him, and only him? it was intoxicating, the way it felt. sam drew primal feelings from you — there was no shame, nor insecurity. he wanted you to feel everything he felt for you, and he wanted you to crave it.

he wanted you to crave the way skin prickles when it’s excited and scared and sensitive. he wanted you to crave the perfect amount of friction and moisture on your clit. he wanted you to crave the smell of his cologne on his flannel, the whisky on his breath, and the hungry look he had in his eyes when he saw your nipples peak underneath your shirt.

“please, sam…” you whined, cheeks beginning to burn with pink.

“nah — not like that, baby,” he spoke. “gonna make you work for it.”

you detested him for that as he climbed off of you, settling against the back of the seat. he shoved his pants and boxers down. you situated yourself into his lap once more, letting out a huff of frustration.

“you’re pissed?” sam quipped with a cocky smile, smacking your ass before swallowing you into a kiss. “good. show me.”

immediately, you forgot how angry you were. how deprived you were. how frustrated with him you were. you grabbed him by the base, and sank down onto him.

sam filled you to the brim. a man of his size and stature would do nothing but. you could feel your walls squeezing him, holding him in place as you struggled to adjust to his size. but sam? the cocky bastard? sam could only stare at you with a knowing smirk on his face, hunger for a challenge brewing in his chest.

“you’re so mean,” you whimpered, rolling your hips down onto him.

“i know, sweetheart,” he spoke. he wrapped one arm around your hips, and used his other hand to push you back in between the front seats. “lay back for me, yeah? trust me — i’ll make it right.”

you threw your hands behind you, holding yourself up by balancing on the console. and when you felt sam thrust inside of you for the first time? oh, fuck… you knew exactly what he meant.

what they don’t tell you in romance novels is that it’s incredibly difficult to find those sweet spots that make you sing. they make it seem so easy to “come undone” with one finger or one thrust, but anyone left unsatisfied knows the truth. you know the truth, and that’s exactly how you got yourself in the back of the impala. but sam? oh, sam… sam was the one they wrote those stories about.

it’s like sam could tell what you were starving for. you needed a man to see everything you were deprived of, and wanted to give it to you tenfold. sam was selfish in the way that he was selfless — he wanted you to see stars. he wanted your cheeks and the back of your neck to blush. he wanted you to whimper. he wanted you messy and beautiful and full of life. but sam wanted all of that for himself.

sam forcibly kept you bent at the angle you were, but he didn’t have to. the head of his cock pistoned into that spot behind your lower stomach, and immediately you recognized that this is what they meant by that special spot inside. his tight grip on your hips forced you take every bit of his strength against the neglected wall that craved sam and all of his talent so, so badly.

“oh my god —“ you whimpered, throwing your head back. “i didn’t — how did you —“

“yeah — that’s right, baby. never had this before, huh?”

“n-nothin’ like this, sam,” you spat through bitten lips, trying not to cry. “it-it feels...”

you tried to keep up with his speed and aggression. you wanted to show him you were good too and that you could make him feel good too, but it was all so much. too much. putty in his fucking hands, you were, and you had never felt so safe nor so good.

“you fuckin’ tease me on every hunt —“ he rasped, taking one hand off of one hip. “flirting with everyone, when i’m right there.” he spat on your clit, making you shiver. “wasting your time, and mine.” his thumb found your clit, making circles. “any of them make you feel like this?”

“never,” you were starting to stutter, words and movements. the pressure building in your womb was building, and building, and building. it was all getting too much. “i should’ve — please —“

he grabbed you by the back of your head then, forcing you upright and close to him. your chest was pressed against him, and warmth spread throughout you once more. you rolled your hips against his like you were chasing him, afraid you would lose him.

“fuck —“ he rasped in your ear.

“sam…” you weeped. “i’m so close. don’t stop — please —“

he grabbed you by the throat then, putting space between your faces. he held you in place and your gaze, scolding you when you tried to drift off with your eyes closed. each thrust combined with the circles he drew was drawing you closer and closer to your demise.

“so fucking worked up, aren’t you?” he spat. “yeah, yeah — i can see it. face all red, and tears? so frustrated.”

you couldn’t do anything besides nod and try to wipe your tears away, forcing back whimpers. something snapped inside you when you saw the dark, feral look in his eyes. he wanted your orgasm as much as you wanted him to give it to you. and when it hit? when it consumed you? when it made you so weak you couldn’t do anything besides lean against him?

all he could do? fucking laugh.

laugh at your demise. laugh at how it overtook you. laugh at how it crashed over you and swallowed you whole. laughed at how it filled you to the brim and then some. but most of all? sam winchester laughed in triumph at the fact that the badass, independent spitfire he knew was coming apart and making a mess in his laugh.

“that’s right, doll —“

“act so tough, and this was all you needed —“

“fuck, you’re so pretty when you cry for me.”

the swell of pride in his chest was felt by both you and him. he was pushing, pulling, nipping, biting, and kissing you every which way. your mind bent each movement of his, completely pliant in his hands as you came undone. your climax — it was so powerful, you fell against him as he chased his own. he bit down on your shoulder as he came, fucking his load into you.

the collapse was felt by both of you. he held you against him as you both came down from your highs, rubbing your back with his thumb. when he sighed in relief against your cheek, leaving a kiss on the still blushed skin… you knew you weren’t the only one satisfied.

��———

lmk what u think xoxo

love u sammy <3

[supern4turelle]

older boyfriend!dean x reader (mdni, +18)

warnings/tags: sweet dean! fluff! ure his soft spot <3, age gap, smut, oral (f & m rec), p in v, unprotected, dom!dean, cumplay, a lot of dirty talking!

older boyfriend!dean who's extra protective of you. if you think he's over protective of his little brother, oh boy. you're his baby, and he'll never let anything happen to you.

older boyfriend!dean who tries to include you in cases/missions even if he doesn't allow you to hunt with them. he knows you like to feel part of it so — you help with other things be it researching, etc.

older boyfriend!dean who still teaches you how to load up & fire different types of guns for safety purposes, and to learn how to defend yourself in situations he hopes will never happen.

older boyfriend!dean who only ever sets his eyes on you. ever since he saw you, other women were practically non-existent; invisible. it's got sam shocked every time a gorgeous woman interacts with them and dean is genuinely nonchalant.

older boyfriend!dean who sits through your fave films with you, lets you take aux when taking a road trip. (which does not sit well with sam) & he's in love with the way you talk about things you love!!!

older boyfriend!dean who's sure you're the only definition of an angel. the realest ever than all those he's ever met. he can't help but gawk at you with adoration and awe every time he's with you.

"dean! look at the road!" you yell out at your boyfriend driving.

instead of looking front he's too busy being captivated by the way the sun casts light onto your face in the impala.

he just laughs, hands reaching up from your thigh to caress your cheek to your chin.

"can't help it baby, s'too hard to focus on driving with you beside me,"

older boyfriend!dean who hates sappy shit but hell, he'd do anything you ask him to. moments where he used to cringe at; he finds himself happy to be going through with you.

you wanna put couple plushies to decorate the impala? done!

you wanna have his and hers toothbrush? done!

you wanna talk about wedding plans? he's got the meal course plan and honeymoon planned down to the T. so sure that he wants to spend forever with you.

older boyfriend!dean is tough on people around him, but he could never raise his voice at you & could never stay mad at you. you're the only person at the receiving end of his soft side.

"dean; stop raising your voice at him, you're scaring me too," you raise your eyebrows, cheeks puffing out.

dean looks over, hands rubbing frustratingly over his stubble.

"baby, you're supposed to be on my side!" he pouts, and sam is bewildered.

older boyfriend!dean who learns how to embrace vulnerability with you. talks to you about his emotions and learns how to find ways to cope other than his trusty bottle of whiskey.

nsfw! ver

older boyfriend!dean who loves taking care of his girl in all ways he can.

older boyfriend!dean who loves going down on you. loves gripping onto your thighs as he looks up at you, gauging every bit of your reaction as he licks a stripe up your folds. groans when he gets a taste

he gets right into it, letting his tongue push through those gummy walls of yours, flicking around. tall nose of his pressing onto your swollen clit.

brings up his tongue to swirl around and play with that bud, while his fingers start to make their way into your cunt. he starts slow, pumping one finger before two.

you moan out, whining out his name as his tongue and fingers worked in tandem, your cunt gushing out juices and pulsing around his fingers.

"dean, oh my god,"

"yeah? feels good baby?" he groans. "you taste so fuckin' good, pretty cunt so tight 'round these fingers huh?"

you cry out his name til he brings you to a high, your orgasm washing over you, back arching as you clench around his fingers; eyes seeing white.

older boyfriend!dean who loves when you go down on him. holds your head down when you're on your knees. occasionally likes to hold your hair in a ponytail.

"that's my good girl. taking all of it like a goddamn champ huh?"

"yeah that's it, that's it. fuck. so pretty when you're so full of my cock,"

older boyfriend!dean who loves to have you whiny and desperate for him. he'll have you sat on his lap, fully clothed while you're naked.

"come on baby, show me how much you want it yeah?"

he plays with your tits, hands messily trying to grab on to every inch of you he can. you love to give him a show, arching your back and grinding down on his lap, friction from his pants making you cry out his name.

"how cute, i love when you're like this babe,"

you whine, "please," but he's cruel. he sits back with his arms behind him, "nah baby, i think you're doing a hell of a job — cum for me like this,"

he gives in though, rubbing your sensitive nipples while roughly playing with your tits, knowing it'll push you over the cliff.

"fuck, dean. i'm there i'm there — i'm gonna cum, gonna cum for you," you cry out, voice cracking while at a higher pitch before you scream out his name, cunt pulsing as a gracious amount of juices pump out.

"that's a good girl. look at you — so pretty and capable hm?"

older boyfriend!dean who loves when you take charge occasionally too.

you always take the opportunity to tease him, having him under you as you slowly unbutton his shirt, nails playing around with his chest and abdomen. all while your hips start to slowly rock against his groin.

when his hands approach, you take his wrists and slam it above him. "no touching, baby," you smirk, knowing how obedient he is when he wants to be.

he bites his lip, nodding as he lays back, letting you continue. his eyes hazy and hooded as he watches you take off his pants, teasing around his leaking slit and licking around the red and swollen tip.

"let me — let me fuck you baby — need to touch you, feel you," he groans, "fuck" you suck harshly, hands squeezing his balls lightly.

"we go at my pace today baby,"

older boyfriend!dean loves using the mirror. be it the standing mirror at the corner of your room or the in the toilet.

in the comfort of your room, he has you on your knees, hands clutching onto the sheets while your back is arched so prettily for him. he loves to look at the way your face scrunches when he smacks your ass while inching his huge cock inside of you.

he moans, "pretty cunt takes me in so fucking good," he stares at you through the mirror, increasing his pace. enjoying how fucked up you look as he pumps his cock in and out of you at an unforgiving pace.

when he's feeling needy, he'll take you on the toilet's counter. one hand bruising your hip as he inserts his cock from behind, the other across your shoulder to hold you in place. his eyes never leaving yours the whole time as he whispers filthy words in your ear.

"looking so pretty out there i just had to remind you who you belong to,"

"yeah you feel that? that's me marking you up as mine baby," he groans

"wanna be loud and let 'em hear? hm? naughty girl, you want all of 'em to know who's making you cry?"

"gonna cum a thick fucking load into you, and you're gonna keep it in yeah? tuck it in with that panty of yours and walk around the whole day with it — fuck — inside you,"

"and when we're back home i'm gonna fuck it in more deeply inside of you — fuck baby you like that huh, clenching me so fucking tight,"

"cum with me, come on baby, cum,"

older boyfriend!dean who pushes his cum back into your slippery cunt, making you spend the whole day with soaked panties and feeling smug that his cum stench is probably following you every where you go, marking you up.

A/N: hope you guys liked this first piece of work i've put out! will be working on the other requests now too! feel free to like/comment or reblog if you liked it ⭐️ sending love n kisses 🫧

[wvyik]

you wanna?.. d.w. ᝰ.ᐟ

dean winchester x fem! reader

ᰔ summary: dean’s been acting weird all morning, but you don’t think much of it — until he casually slides something across the table between bites of waffles. And just like that, your whole world tilts.

⤿ warnings: mdni!! pre-established relationship, aggressively casual proposal, dean being a menace as usual, fluff so sweet it might kill you!!… eventual smut (because let’s be real, this man does not propose without following through. is skip able though!!). dirty talk, dom! dean, oral sex, praise kink, unprotected sex, after care cause ima softie.

⤿ notes: AHH!! had so much fun with this one. tysm for all the support >ᴗ< i appreciate you all!! tbh this is the best thing I’ve ever written in a while. we love dean with a happy ending. ꒰˶  - ˕ -꒱ buckle up for the spicy stuff later!! as always, feel free to drop a comment or yell at me if you’re feeling some type of way about this. i’m here for it.

It’s early. Too early.

You’re exhausted in that way only hunters understand— the kind that seeps into your bones, makes your muscles ache, keeps you in that hazy space between asleep and awake, even with a steaming cup of coffee cradled between your hands.

Dean, of course, looks annoyingly good for someone who barely got any sleep. His hair is a mess, there’s a fading bruise on his jaw from last night’s hunt, but he’s still effortlessly him — green eyes warm with amusement, shoulders relaxed, mouth curling into a smirk as he watches you fight to keep your eyes open.

“You look like you got run over,” he says, the corners of his lips twitching.

You take a slow sip of your coffee, staring at him blankly. “Thanks. You always know just what to say.”

He chuckles, reaching for his own mug. “Just speakin’ the truth, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. Not now, anyway. You’re definitely too tired for that.

The sound of Dean shuffling around the motel room pulls you out of your half-sleep. You crack open one eye, only to find him already dressed, boots laced up, and pacing with that ‘we’re about to hit the road’ look in his eyes. His leather jacket is hanging on the back of the chair.

You rub your eyes, groaning, and try to keep the sleepiness from spilling out of you. “Do we really have to go now?”

Dean grins, not even bothering to look at you. “You know how I feel about sitting still.”

You roll your eyes again, itching to bargain with him, but knowing if you did, he’d just drag you into whatever shenanigans he had planned for the day anyway. After a couple of minutes, the room starts to feel too small, and the silence is making your head spin, so you sit up. The plan— at least, the unspoken one — was to hit the road after a quick breakfast, and you’ve learned that when Dean Winchester says quick, he means quick.

The car ride isn’t long. Dean’s humming along to the radio, steering with one hand as he swerves around potholes, and you’re trying to ignore how damn good he looks in the morning light filtering through the car windows. Eventually, the sound of the engine and the warmth of the sun lull you into a comfortable quiet. You’re barely paying attention when you both pull up to an old diner on the side of the highway, a place that looks like it’s been around longer than you’ve been alive.

Dean parks and shoots you a look and smirks. “I’ll bet you ten bucks the pie here could change your life.”

You raise an eyebrow but don’t question it. You know better than to doubt him by now.

The diner is quiet, just a few truckers scattered at the counter, the hum of conversation mixing with the low crackle of an old radio playing Blue Öyster Cult in the background. The air smells like burnt coffee and bacon grease, and the vinyl booth seat sticks slightly to your thigh where your jeans have a tear, but it’s…nice.

Comfortable.

It’s one of those rare, normal mornings. No hunts lined up. No immediate danger. Just you, Dean, and a crappy little diner on the side of the road.

You should’ve known he was up to something.

Dean’s been acting weird all morning.

Not in an obvious way. He’s still teasing you, still stuffing his face with an ungodly amount of waffles and bacon, still shooting you that signature smirk every time you make a face at him.

But his knee is bouncing under the table. His fingers keep drumming against his coffee cup. And every once in a while, you catch him looking at you — this soft, thoughtful expression flickering across his face before he shakes it off.

You think about asking. But then your waitress swings by again, and Dean immediately perks up, flashing her a charming smile as she tops off his coffee.

“Another round of waffles, darlin’?” she asks, clearly smitten. You don’t blame her.

You smile softly behind your mug as Dean leans back, cocky as ever. “Wouldn’t say no.”

The waitress laughs, shaking her head. “You got a hell of an appetite.”

“That’s what she said,” Dean mutters under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear.

You kick him under the table. He deserved that one.

By the time the waitress walks away, Dean is already back to his food, completely unfazed. You shake your head, cutting into your own waffle, stealing one of his bacon strips just to be a menace. He lets you.

And then— casual as anything, like he’s commenting on the weather— he reaches into his pocket, pulls out something, and slides it across the table toward you.

A ring.

Just sitting there. Between your plate and the salt shaker.

Your brain short-circuits. You stare at it, then at him. Then back at it.

Dean, the absolute menace that he is, doesn’t even look up from his food. Just swipes some syrup with his fork, chews, and— without a single ounce of drama — says,

“You wanna?”

You blink. Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. Because what the hell is happening right now?

Dean finally looks at you, chewing like this is just another Thursday.

“What?” he says around a mouthful of food.

Your heart is slamming against your ribs. You feel warm all over, but you can’t tell if it’s from the crappy diner coffee or the fact that Dean Winchester just proposed to you like he was offering you the last french fry.

“That’s your proposal?” Your voice comes out hoarse, disbelief and laughter mixing in your throat.

Dean tilts his head, squinting at you. “What, you want me to get down on one knee in a greasy diner?”

“You literally just slid it across the table like it was a packet of sugar!”

He shrugs, still watching you, still unreadable in that way that makes your stomach flip. “Ain’t exactly my style, sweetheart.”

Your fingers shake as you reach for the ring. It’s simple— silver, understated, perfect. It feels warm from being in his pocket, the edges smooth against your skin.

Dean’s watching you carefully now. The teasing is gone, replaced by something softer, something quieter.

And that’s when it hits you.

Dean Winchester— who has faced monsters, demons, literal hell — is nervous. Like he’s bracing for impact. Like there’s a real, tangible fear in him that you might say no.

Your throat tightens.

“You really want this?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Dean exhales through his nose, sets his fork down. He leans forward slightly, arms resting on the table, eyes locked onto yours.

“Sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice steady now, sure in a way that makes you melt. “I already got you. This is just making it official.”

Your heart stumbles. Because of course he’d say it like that. Like it was never even a question, like you already belonged to each other. Like you always would.

The ring feels solid between your fingers, grounding. It’s not grand or flashy. It’s him. It’s you. It’s perfect.

And god,

You don’t cry, but it’s a close thing.

You swallow hard, slip it onto your finger. It fits like it was meant to.

Dean watches, lets out a breath like he was holding it for years, and then— because you know him, because you love him— you smirk and say,

“You better get me a pie for this.”

That knocks the tension right out of him. His mouth quirks, the easy grin sliding back into place. “Damn right, I will.”

And just like that, you’re engaged. Not with a big speech. Not with grand gestures. Just this. Just him.

In a tiny diner off the highway, with bad coffee and waffles and the love of your life sitting across from you, grinning like a fool.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions building up in your chest. You weren’t expecting this. Hell, you didn’t even know you needed it. But now that it’s here, now that he’s here, you feel like your whole world is shifting into place.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you whisper, leaning your forehead against his.

Dean chuckles, the sound deep and warm. “You’re the one that’s perfect, sweetheart. I’m just lucky.”

You shake your head slightly, not sure how to respond. You’ve been together for so long now, and yet, this moment still feels like a beginning. Like everything that came before— every hunt, every stupid argument, every late-night conversation— it was all leading to this. To this small, simple, perfect moment in a stupid dingy diner.

Dean cups your face, tilting your chin up so you’re looking directly at him. There’s a quiet intensity in his eyes, and for once, you see a rawness that he doesn’t always show.

“You know that’s the thing,” he murmurs. “It’s not about what you deserve. It’s about what you’re willing to fight for. And you—” He pauses, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek. “You’re worth every damn fight, sweetheart. Always will be.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, and you realize you’re not even breathing properly. It’s overwhelming, the way he can say so much with so little. His words hit you deeper than you expected, more than you thought you needed.

“I’m in this. All the way, okay?” he says softly, like he’s reminding you, like he’s trying to make sure you know it, truly know it. “I don’t do half-assed. Not with you.”

“I know,” you reply, your voice barely more than a whisper, the emotions bubbling up.

His lips press against your forehead, soft and tender. And in that moment, you know—you know—that you’re not just his. He’s yours too. No matter what comes next, you’re a team.

Dean pulls back, a playful smile tugging at his lips again, trying to break the weight of the moment. “So, uh, you think I could maybe get a little ‘yes’ out of you? Just a tiny one?”

You laugh softly, your chest full. You tilt your head, looking up at him with a smile that feels too big for your face. “Yeah. Yeah, you could.”

Dean’s eyes light up, a twinkle in them like he’s won the lottery, like this was the answer he’s been waiting for. He presses another kiss to your lips—brief, but meaningful.

And for the first time in a long time, you feel like you can breathe. Like the world, in all its chaos, has paused just for you two. Like nothing else matters except the person standing in front of you.

You know there will be bad days, tough hunts, and fights, but for now, this moment is enough. This love is enough.

And you, you finally feel like you’ve found where you belong.

“Guess we should finish our waffles, huh?” Dean says, the mood lightening again, but his hand still resting on yours.

You chuckle, your heart still racing. “Yeah. But let’s take it slow, okay? We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Dean grins, that cocky, perfect grin you know so well. “Works for me.”

As you both finish your meal— laughing, talking about whatever random thing crosses your mind— there’s an understanding between you two now. You don’t need big gestures or flashy moments to know what’s real.

What’s real is here. What’s real is you two.

And it’s always been that way.

Back in the motel room, the door clicked shut behind you with a soft thud. The dim light from the lamp on the nightstand cast long shadows across the room, the only sound the faint hum of the old air conditioning. The weight of the night pressed in on you— quiet, comfortable, and full of possibilities you weren’t ready to voice just yet.

Dean kicked off his boots and tossed his jacket onto the chair by the door, then turned to face you. There was something different in his eyes now, something deeper, as if the last few hours had opened up a door neither of you could walk away from.

You stood by the bed, your heart thumping in your chest, but your feet seemed glued to the floor, unsure of what came next. His gaze flickered down to your hand, still resting in his from the diner, then back up to your face. That smile— always so effortless, so charming— pulled at the corner of his lips.

“You good?” he asked, voice soft, but with that low, steady warmth you knew so well.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your words barely escaping as your breath hitched. Your heart was racing, but you felt rooted to the spot, unsure if you should make the first move or wait for him to pull you in again.

Dean’s eyes never left yours as he slowly closed the distance between you, his movements slow, deliberate. You could feel the space between you getting smaller, the air in the room suddenly feeling thicker, charged with that same electricity you couldn’t ignore.

When he finally reached you, his hand came up to gently tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch was soft, but there was no mistaking the heat in his fingers, the way they lingered just a little longer than necessary, as if he was trying to memorize the feel of your skin.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, eyes fluttering shut for a second, just to take in the moment. He was so close now. Close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off of him, close enough that the faint scent of the leather jacket he had left behind filled your senses.

Dean’s lips brushed against yours with a familiarity that made your heart skip a beat. This wasn’t the first time— far from it— but each time felt like it was. Every kiss was still a little bit like a spark, each one lighting a new fire. And tonight, there was something different. Something deeper, even though you’d been here before.

His fingers trailed down your arm again, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing every inch of your skin as if he couldn’t get enough of it. You shifted beneath him, feeling the tension of the moment settle between your legs, but it wasn’t rushed. It never was with him.

“You know what you do to me, right?” Dean’s voice was low, rougher now, but laced with that familiar tenderness. He didn’t need to say it, not really. You could feel it in every touch, every lingering kiss.

You nodded, your lips parting as you leaned up to meet him halfway, pressing your body closer to his. You’d been here before, but that didn’t mean it ever lost its power. It was still just as electrifying, just as sweet.

His hands moved to the waistband of your jeans, pausing for just a moment as his eyes locked onto yours, searching for any hesitation. But there was none. You didn’t need words; your body told him everything. Your jeans met the floor with a slight thud.

With a deep, almost frustrated sigh, Dean pushed your jeans down just enough to slide his hand under them, his fingers skating over the curve of your hip. It was familiar, comforting even, but the way he touched you now felt different. There was a slowness, an intentional care in every movement. Like he wanted to savor you this time.

His lips met yours again, but this kiss was slower, more languid, as if he was taking his time, soaking in the moment. He kissed you like he was letting his feelings pour into every movement, every press of his lips, until the rest of the world disappeared.

“You make me forget everything else, you know that?” Dean’s breath was hot against your ear, his hands expertly undressing you, but it was still slow. As if he was enjoying the feel of your skin more than the outcome of it. You could tell that this wasn’t about rushing, about getting to the end. This was about being with you, right here, right now.

You breathed his name again, a plea more than a whisper, and Dean, ever the attentive lover, responded immediately, his lips trailing down your neck, to your chest, as his hand wandered over you, knowing exactly where to touch to make your breath hitch.

But this time, it wasn’t about the heat of the moment— it was about the slow, delicious build of something bigger. His lips left a trail of soft, lingering kisses across your skin as his hand gently slid down your side, his touch grounding you to the bed. His body moved against yours with that familiar rhythm, but tonight, it felt like it meant more. Like you meant more.

He paused for just a moment, looking at you with those eyes—dark and soft all at once. “I love you, ‘s fucking much. I wanna make you feel so good, baby.” His voice was thick with something deep, something serious, and it made your chest tighten with emotion.

You nodded, pulling him back to you, pressing your lips to his with a fierce intensity. It wasn’t just the physical connection anymore. This was something that went deeper, something stronger than before. And you wanted it. You wanted him.

Dean groaned as you tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he moved between your legs. You moan, as he skillfully worked his fingers in you, slowly climbing on top of you— as your head hit the not-so-soft pillows on the bed. You could feel the thrum of his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong.

“Dean…” The word came out like a breath, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you tugged him back up, wanting his lips on yours again. He smirked, just slightly, but there was nothing playful in the way his eyes held yours. It was all raw, all real.

“Easy,” he whispered, voice gruff but gentle as his thumb traced over your lip. “Atta girl, doing so good for me.. Don’t worry bout’ it, we can take your time.”

You nodded, your eyes heavy with desire but filled with trust. “I need you, De..” Your voice was soft, but there was a definite edge to it. The words felt like they had weight, like they meant something. Something more than just this moment.

He exhaled deeply, eyes darkening as his hand slid to your waist, guiding you beneath him as he moved down on you, slipping your panties fully off. The space between you was so minimal now that it felt like you were one.

His mouth lightly sucked on your needy clit, his thick fingers still working their magic inside you. You couldn’t help but let out an almost pornographic moan. You were so close, he could tell.

“Mhm, honey.. let it out, cum on my face,” he whispered against your needy pussy. The stubble on his jaw teasing you even more, as he practically buried his face in your wetness.

Oh, you were a goner. “Dean— fuck, I’m gonna—“ You didn’t even finish your sentence as the orgasm came rushing through you. As dean still worked, still slurping up your juices in his mouth like his life depended on it.

He finally let his face out of between your thighs, kissing you gently— letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re incredible,” Dean muttered, his voice raw as he pressed his forehead against yours, breathing deeply. “Never forget that.”

You met his gaze, your chest tight with emotion. “I won’t. Not with you.”

Dean’s lips found yours in a deep kiss, and as he slowly pulled back, his hand moved to your waist, gently coaxing your hips up against his. His jeans came off, so did the shirt — the sound of the zipper loud in the quiet of the room, and you felt a rush of heat flood your body again. He was so close, and yet, there was still something in the way he touched you that made everything feel like it was building to something more.

“Don’t tease me,” you whispered, your voice a little breathless, but there was a hint of playfulness too—something you knew he’d pick up on.

He smirked, his lips brushing your jaw as his body settled between your legs. “Me? Tease?” His voice was a teasing mockery of innocence, but there was nothing innocent in the way he touched you, nothing at all.

“Oh, yeah, and this? Off.” He gestured to your shirt, earning a chuckle from you. He skillfully pulled the shirt off of you, unclasping your bra with ease, gently touching up on your breasts.

Dean’s eyes never left yours, that fire still burning in them, but there was a softness there too, a tenderness that made your chest tighten. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmured, the words slipping from his lips like a prayer. His lips moved to your neck again.

You looked at him wide-eyed, as he pressed his lips back onto yours briefly, before sliding one hand down his boxers, pulling his hard cock out of its confinements, already leaking with pre-cum. You never get tired of seeing it, really.

There’s a hunger in his gaze, but it’s a hunger you recognize—one that’s been building between you two, one that isn’t just about tonight. It’s deeper, quieter, but oh so real.

“Y’ ready for me?..” he murmured, and you could only respond with a soft ‘mhm’ sound, too turned on to make any proper sentence.

You’re not just the next moment in line for him— you’re everything. His hand on your skin, his body pressed to yours, it’s all proof of the quiet trust that’s been growing between you since day one.

You can feel the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, as he slowly pushes inside of you, his heart beating steady against yours. It’s like he’s giving you all of him, in this simple, quiet way, and you know you have his heart just as much as he has yours

“That’s it— Jesus, sweetheart. You’re still so fucking tight, can’t believe it’” he chuckles slowly, and you whimper when he finally gives all of himself for you. And he waits for your permission to start moving.

“De.. okay— you can move.” You manage to say breathlessly after a little bit. Nothing can prepare you for that moment, though. As he slowly moves in and out you swear you see stars. And gosh, the sounds that fill the room, it’s so goddamn good, you think before biting down the moan.

“Mhm, yeah.. So fuckin’ perfect, angel, you’re doing so well for me.” He almost whimpered. Goddamn you, Dean — And your filthy mouth.

His lips found yours again, and the kiss was deeper this time— full of assurance, of trust, of a promise that nothing could tear apart. You could feel how much he believed in the two of you, in the bond you shared.

His hands roamed your body, confident and firm, like he knew exactly where to touch to make you lose your breath. Every movement was purposeful, a teasing promise of what was to come.

“De— m’ so close, please” you managed to whimper through the moans, trying to keep up with his pace with your hips.

His lips lingered along your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin, his breath hot against your ear. “I know baby, me too. You can come, sweetness, m’ right there with you.” he murmured, his voice a hushed growl that sent shivers down your spine.

As you both reached your climax, you can’t help but smile. After the world-shifting intensity of the moment, you both lay there, tangled up in sheets and each other. Dean shifted just enough to pull you close, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm against yours, as though he was grounding himself in the softness of your presence.

His fingers brushed gently through your hair, the touch so tender it was almost as if he was trying to memorize every strand, every curve of you. The warmth between you didn’t need words; it was enough to feel him there, still connected to you in every possible way.

“Are you okay?” Dean’s voice was low, but it carried that softness you’d only hear when the walls were down and he wasn’t trying to hide anything. There was a genuine worry in his tone, an unwavering need to make sure you were feeling just as safe and cared for as he felt.

You nodded against his chest, your hand resting over his heart, feeling the steady beat that reminded you of the calm after the storm. “I’m perfect,” you whispered, your voice still a little breathless, but full of warmth.

Dean chuckled softly, the sound low and comforting, like it always was when he felt content. “Good. ‘Cause I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, pulling you closer, his arm draping over you protectively as if making sure you stayed there, safe in his arms.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, the gesture soft and caring, his way of showing that there was more to him than just the physical connection. It was always about the little things—the way his touch lingered, the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

There was no rush to get up, no need to fill the space with words that didn’t need to be said. You both understood each other in the quiet.

Dean’s thumb brushed against your hand in a rhythm that made you feel grounded, like he was telling you he was there in ways that didn’t need to be explained. Slowly, you let your eyes flutter closed, wrapped in the softness of his care, feeling safer than you had ever felt.

He kissed your forehead again, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’re good, you and me. Always gonna be good.”

And in that moment, with the faintest smile tugging at your lips, you knew he meant every word. The world outside the room didn’t matter, not when you had this—this peace, this love, this feeling of being completely and utterly cared for.

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[bunnysbrainrot]

Size Matters

Kinktober Prompt: Size kink

Relationship: Sam Winchester x Reader

Content: Explicit sexual scenes, oral (f receiving), creampie (wrap it up, kids), dirty talk, rough sex, dom Sam, fluffy/funny aftercare (it’s crucial)

Summary: Your plan for making the boys dinner goes awry, leaving you alone with Sam in his bedroom, and coming to terms with a kink that only Sam Winchester can fulfill.

A/N: 🤭

"C'mon,' you strain, reaching for a high shelf in the cabinet. Apparently Sam and Dean didn't find a need for a stepladder in the bunker. Your calves screech in protest as you reach for a jar of pasta sauce, your fingers brush the bottle, but not enough purchase to grab it.

A long arm reaches above your head, grabbing the sauce in a large, familiar hand. Sam hands you the jar with a smile.

You took it from his hands and chide, "Not everyone's as vertically gifted as you and your brother, you know. Y'could be more inclusive and invest in a stepstool."

He leans against the counter you'd been setting ingredients on. Sam's eyes scan over your form as you open the pasta sauce.

"You know you can ask us for help, right?"

"I was gonna make dinner for us, I didn't want to make you guys help me," you reply Sam stands fully now and looks over your shoulder. You crane your neck to look up at him, "How's the weather up there?"

Sam chuckles lightly, "You know, I could tease you about your height. It'd be pretty easy."

You turn back to the counter and place freshly-washed vegetables on a cutting board. Unsheathing a knife from the knife block, you keep conversation with Sam.

"I don't have a problem with being short," you bump your hip sideways into Sam's leg. He does the same to you, except the direct strike in the ribs knocks you off balance, stumbling over.

He's able to snatch you up to safety before you bust your ass on the floor. Now cradled in Sam's arms, a rush of comfort comes over you in his stable grip. His hands catch your waist, with his long fingers spreading broad across your torso. Fuck, together they could probably go around most of your waist, and those fingers...

You snap out of your stupor to find Sam smiling down at you. His eyes linger on yours long enough for your mind to wander, wondering who would lean in first. Stolen glances at each other's lips, hitched breath, low-lidded eyes, it was a perfect concoction for Sam to kiss you.

Beneath him, you're so delicate in his arms, as if you'll break if he isn't careful. It was in his own reflexes to catch you, but the feelings that rushed through him afterwards were something deeper. Almost instinctive that in any moment with you like this, hushed and ogling, would lead to something more. Forget dinner, he thought, he could just order something for delivery.

At least, after he's done with you.

"Sam," you whisper. Maybe you hadn't been paying attention, but his face is now just inches from your own.

He finds himself leaned over further, close enough to share the same air, breaths mixing.

You smile nervously, and to your relief Sam gives one of his own. But he doesn't break away - doesn't help you to your feet to cut vegetables for the dinner you were kindly making for him. It couldn't matter much now that he's holding you like this.

"Sorry," he replies, barely audible. You wave your hands in dismissal and place them around his neck. The air shifts as the movement brings you ever closer, your lips no more than three inches away from Sam's.

"It's okay," you whisper. Soft, hazel eyes wander over your face and flicker to your lips, seemingly stuck there until Sam takes a risk he'd been waiting for.

Relief washes over you when his lips meet yours. After all this time, it turns out that he had the guts to break this tension, and everything that had been bottled up could now overflow. You let a deep hunger overtake your body, purely going on instinct as Sam embraces you. Sam sighs into your kiss and swallows a moan it drew from your throat, whiny and eager.

Sam nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it tentatively with his teeth. You do the same in response, only harder. Testing the waters. Usually a dangerous game, especially with a Winchester.

Your hands had made their way to his broad shoulders - his lean muscles flexing and stretching as he moves his hands over you, meandering from your waist, spanning from your shoulder blades to the top of your ass. His fingers toy with the fabric of your clothes, like he was trying to unwrap a present too early and didn't want to rip the packaging.

“Not here,” Sam says, his words slurring like a love-drunk fool, “Can’t do this here.”

He breaks the kiss and leaves you panting for more; there's a new darkness in his stare, one that makes you shudder. You give him a smile, wiggling in his grip to the pasta sauce jar, and shut it closed.

“What about dinner?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You seem like you have other plans.”

He was caught red handed, but you weren’t declining the advances. If anything you spurred them on as much as he did.

Sam slowly releases you from his grip, setting you stably on your feet. Not once have his eyes left you, even if you weren’t paying attention - Sam was set on this goal, you’d given him the ‘yes’ he needed, and he intended to make good on his commitment.

Patience was wearing thin for Sam. He ogles at the sight of you bent at the waist, putting the pasta sauce and veggies back in the fridge. The curve of your ass sucks him in whole, as if there were nothing else in the room.

A hand settles on your ass from behind, cupping and kneading gently. You let out a shuddering exhale before standing and turning to Sam.

The softness of your voice surprises you, “Where do you want me?”

The ball was in his court. Sam looks you over coolly, his hands kept to themselves in his pants pockets. Your eyes drift lower and pause on the large bulge in Sam’s pants, straining slightly against his thick jeans.

“My bedroom,” he said plainly.

—

There was little time to brace yourself for Sam’s next move. You're pressed against the wall before you can protest, although you wouldn’t dare object to this.

Sam grips the backs of your thighs and lifts you up, wedging your hips with his own, keeping you steady. A new hardness presses against your core as Sam juts his hips into you, pure instinct taking over his movements. His cock twitches in his jeans - he needs to watch his cock sink into you, to watch your face contort in bliss when he bottoms out in your pussy.

There was nothing small about Sam Winchester - he's a Goliath of a man, towering over you at any given time, with thick broad muscles that send a rushing heat to your sex. If your intrusive thoughts ever won, you were sure he could toss you around like it was nothing.

But now, you didn’t have much choice but to stay pinned to the wall, where you and Sam both grind your hips desperately, letting out lilted moans and grunts against each other’s skin.

The friction on your swelling clit was rough and warm, with Sam's cock perfectly nestled atop your drenched slit. Each rough push shot pleasure through your core, but it wasn’t enough for your aching cunt.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” he emphasized. You shook your head at him. You wouldn’t break so easily, but if anyone were to shatter you apart, it could happily be Sam.

Your lips found his ear, after staining yourself up his long torso, “I’m not gonna break that easily, don’t worry.”

“Oh, yeah?” his voice deepened as his lips found your neck, eagerly nipping at your skin and making you whine. "Let's test that theory."

You gripped the hem of your shirt and shimmied it over your head, casting it to the floor carelessly.

Sam’s eyes trail over your chest, still beautifully bound by your bra. Their softness served as an undeniable invitation for his mouth to lower. He dips his head to greedily nip and suckle at the supple skin, leaving red and purple splotches in his wake.

You grip at his hair, urgently tugging him closer, as if the direct contact could never be enough to satisfy. Each of your soft moans is echoed with a low groan from Sam’s chest. He had doubled over, completely encapsulating you in his clean scent, now thick with a lustful musk.

Two fingers found the band of your bra, unclipping it with the utmost ease, and cast it to the floor with your shirt. Through panting breaths, Sam works off his shirt, though his lips have no hesitation to return to your exposed chest, and found a pebbled nipple between his teeth, rolling and biting to bring out a symphony of moans from the both of you.

Your hands lunged for the waistband of your pants. Sam took notice and sighs happily against your skin, his warm breath like a gentle wave across everything you'd exposed to him. Above you, Sam grew more unhinged with each passing second, grabbing and biting and kneading your flesh like a man starved.

Sam's lips capture yours once more in a tangle of tongues and teeth, exploring one another as if it was your only chance to do so. His tongue grazed the roof of your mouth, swallowing a deep moan that erupts from deep within your chest. He assesses your position and grows frustrated. It would be difficult to remove your, or his, pants without risking dropping you to the floor.

As quickly as you'd been slammed into the wall, Sam tosses you onto his bed, but stays standing at its foot, his hands reaching for his belt buckle. All else in the room vanished as you watch him remove the thick denim, shoving it down his legs to the floor. His cock strained against his boxers, throbbing and twitching to be free.

"Those," Sam nodded his head to your pants, "off."

The sudden dominance springs you into action. Your hands fly to your waistband and wiggle them off of your hips, down your thighs, and kick them away. Your soaked panties act as your final barrier, barring you from what you so badly needed.

Sam returns to his hunched position over you, letting his hands rove over your exposed thighs and ass, pawing at you greedily. You reach down to the band of his boxers, and slip your fingers under the elastic, inching them down until you felt a resistance against it - Sam's cock fights against the removal, straining your short arms until Sam reaches down to aid you.

The head of his cock springs up to smack against your covered core. You gasp softly at its warmth, your neglected cunt tightens around nothing of substance, an empty hole aching to be filled with something substantial.

"Feel." This was Sam's only order as he tugs your hand down to his length, coaxing you to wrap your small fingers around the middle of his shaft.

He's thick and warm against your palm, with a thick vein creeping up its underside to the tip. Your mouth waters at the way his cock twitches eagerly in your hand, and you slowly begin to pump along his length, making Sam hiss through his teeth.

Sam's voice is lower than you'd ever heard; it sends a heat directly to your teased pussy, now bracing against the base of Sam's cock. Its length covers most of your abdomen, casting your body in its silhouette in the dim lamplight of the room.

"Jesus..." he remarks wistfully, trailing a free hand up to his tip, pressing into the soft flesh of your belly.

Beneath him like this, Sam can finally see the scale of his cock to your insides, mapping out precisely where he'll settle inside of you. You whine softly as his cock drags another stroke over your soaked folds - the abrasion from your underwear was no longer tantalizing, but rather a nuisance.

His breathing becomes ragged, "I need to taste you."

The words shudder through you as Sam's lips work through the valley of your breasts, showering kisses along your middle, and finally he settles between your thighs. Sam places a kiss atop your clit, still kept out of sight by your soaked panties. Two fingers hook into the waistband and tug downward, sliding the soiled garment off of your shaky legs and to the floor behind him.

Cold air strikes your slit as Sam pries it open with two thick fingers, teasing at your aching hole, spreading the wetness around your cunt.

"Are you always this wet when you think about me?" his voice tremors through you. You nod quietly and hold your breath as Sam's head dips lower. All you can see is his rich brown hair cascading over your belly before warmth spread through your core, leaving you moaning at his first touch.

With the way his tongue teased at your clit, Sam may as well have set you ablaze. Your skin radiated a warmth unlike no other, rolling in waves as the cold of the air shocked your most sensitive areas.

"Sam," you whine, carding your fingers through his soft locks. You tug on him gently to push him further.

He pays no mind to your plea, and instead wraps his toned arms under your thighs, pulling your pussy flush against his thick tongue. It flicks your clit perfectly, and pairs with his lips as he suckles on the sweet bundle of nerves.

The taste of you makes Sam groan, his cock straining against the mattress beneath him. Above him, your moans and cries are a siren song, calling him to the bottomless sea of his desire. He pictures what lies ahead - you, sprawled on the bed, blissed out from his tongue and cock, sated and sleepy from a relentless pounding.

That image is pasted in his mind as he laps at your cunt, occasionally dipping his tongue into your tight entrance, and tasting your innermost parts. You arch your back at his touch, sighing his name like a prayer. His restless tongue toys with your hardening clit as pressure builds in your belly.

Sam creates a rhythm on your clit that sends you unfurling under his touch, mewling and whining and moaning slurred versions of Sam and please and need you. But he refuses to give more. Not until he can taste your release directly on his tongue.

The tightness in your belly snaps, breaking you apart until you're crying Sam's name against your hand, clasped firmly against your mouth. His tongue lolls over your clit even still, skyrocketing the shockwaves of the orgasm and making you whimper. Your slick coats his tongue and fills Sam's senses. All there is is you, your sounds, and your delicious cunt.

"Fuck," mumbles Sam, his voice reverberating through your convulsing sex, clamping down onto nothing.

You whine in response. All thought and sense had escaped your mind, now shattered and cast off to a void in the back of your mind. Sam laps up your juices and swallows, savoring every last drop your body had to offer.

The cold air of the room kisses your exposed cunt as Sam rises to his knees, his heavy cock bobbing above your abdomen.

"So small," he remarks, lining his cock over your stomach and admiring just how much of your body he'd overtake.

You'd surely be sore for days afterward, which sent a flush of pride through his chest. His cock ached to carve you hollow - to leave you gaping after a thorough fucking, to shape your pussy perfectly for him.

His hips rear back as he positions himself with your wet hole, shining with your slick, beckoning him inside. Sam's eyes meet yours when he notches the head of his cock past your entrance, surveying your expressions as he slowly filled you out. The girth of his cock could practically split you down your middle, stretching your little pussy to wrap perfectly around his shaft.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," Sam groans, ogling at his own cock as it spread your pussy open. His hands press against the backs of your thighs and push them toward your chest, angling himself so the both of you could share the view.

He sighs, "Look at that - such a big cock, stretching out your tiny pussy, just for me."

Astonishment, teasing, and lust filled his tone, and something else. Something more primal that has your walls fluttering around Sam's cock.

You gape at the sight of his cock entering you, and you finally come to terms with exactly just how big he is. Your pussy is stretched blissfully wide, swallowing his length with earnest. Sam slams his hips and strikes deep, the head of his cock brushing against your cervix.

Each thrust is harsher than the last and all you can do is stare at the brutality your pussy is being subjected to. You cry out as Sam's cock crashes into you, every time, without fail.

At this point, there's no hiding the reality of what's behind Sam's bedroom door. If Dean, or anyone else, heard you, let them. Bliss overcomes your senses and dulls all rationality in your muddled mind.

There is nothing else that matters - just the overwhelming size of Sam Winchester and his remarkable cock.

He whispers your name like a summons, meeting his eyes with yours as he presses your body into the mattress. A hand presses into your tummy. Sam gasps softly and takes your hand to replace his own.

"Feel that?" his purrs, pressing onto your hand to deliver some pressure. As he thrusts in you can feel a shift in your insides, until you feel a firm strike of the head of his cock against you palm.

You look to him with wide eyes and find a wicked smile plastered on his face.

Sam crouches over you, enveloping you with his large size, encasing your body with his. He leans toward your ear, "Can you feel it up here, baby? Because I can. I can feel how tiny your cunt is before I go in and stretch it out."

He pushes deeper, to let you really feel it, "I can feel how you try to fit me, and how just tight you're getting, 'cause you're gonna cum, aren't you?"

A dumb nod follows his question, making his grin widen across his lips. No words form on your lips, only shaky wanton moans reply to his commentary.

"I know, sweetheart, feels good," Sam coos, slowing down his movements to draw out a raw cry from your throat. His cock drags through your walls until its head is all that remains, and slams in harshly.

Your cry is on the verge of a scream, but Sam does not relent. There is no plea to stop or slow down, because this is all you'd been dreaming of - to feel a comforting helplessness under someone far larger, to be at their disposal and usage.

A growl leaves his throat, "So fucking small... I bet you feel like you could break, huh? With my cock this deep inside you, your little pussy can barely take any more, can it?"

Your walls clench around him in reply, pulling Sam in deeper until his balls slap against your ass, now pairing with the obscene squelching of your abused pussy.

Between the lilting moans and quieted pleas from your perfect mouth, Sam issn't sure how much longer he can last. He vows to himself that he will not give in to it yet, not until he feels it. He needs to feel the way you wrap around his cock when you cum.

He needs to be the reason you finish, this time and each orgasm after.

"You've been waiting for this. You've wanted this the whole time - someone big and strong to pound your little pussy 'til you can't stand. Because you want a thick cock splitting you open." Sam stammers through the last few words - his own comments are bringing him closer to the brink, but you've already reached yours.

You shudder around him harshly as your orgasm hits you full-force, leaving you no room to ride it out as Sam's pace quickens. His breath hitches at the sensations flowing through his throbbing length - he hisses when you clench around his sensitive tip, leaving his gasping as he fucks you faster. Harder. Deeper.

His cock plunges into your cunt, hitting that same spot in your tummy as he mentioned before. Sam's hand presses against your abdomen, adding a glorious pressure that has you climaxing again in a matter or seconds.

"Thaaaat's it, attagirl," he encourages. "Such a tight little cunt, but she takes me so well."

The words flow through you like fire, sending you over the brink once again and leaving you whimpering beneath him. Sam smirks, knowing he's doing his job right, he has you exactly where he wants you, pinned, helpless, and impossibly full.

"Please... S-Sam," you whisper.

He laughs, pounding you so roughly you can barely brace for the slam against your cervix, "Can't handle it, can you, baby? I thought you said you don't break easily."

Your soft cries reach his ears as you slip into that thoughtless void of your mind, moaning with each strike.

Sam's lips brush over the shell of your ear, "You think you're so strong, but I'll break you. I'll have your cunt so bruised you can't think about anything else - only me, because this pussy is mine, do you understand?"

A reply doesn't come, only the sounds of your moans fill his ears. Sam delivers a harsh slap to your ass, thrusting his cock as deep as he could manage. You let out a long moan but still don't reply.

"Who's pussy is this?"

The words form on your lips and fall out feebly, "Y-yours."

He kisses your forehead, but does not let his hips falter, "That's right, angel. All mine."

Pressure builds in his abdomen, his balls growing tight as his own release crept up from behind. Sam nips at your earlobe, his words clang through you with a primal desire.

"And since this pussy's mine, I'm going to fill it."

The swift relentless pace resumes, crashing into your hips to verge on soreness, your tight cunt still wrapping perfectly around him, and Sam's name falling past your slacked mouth. Sam's eyes screw shut as his own orgasm finally approaches, and his cock begins to twitch.

He unsheathes his cock from your warm walls, aiming directly at your now gaping pussy. Sam pumps himself fervently as his cum spurts from his cock, right into your stretched hole. You stare in awe as his cum seeps into your cunt, the angle of your hips inviting it all in.

Sam hisses, "Keep it all in there."

You pant as you try to recover yourself, but Sam plunges his cock into you again, making you let out a low, drawn-out moan. He strikes as deeply as before, his movements are urgent, borderline predatory, insistent to have you bred nicely.

"Keep it in there, and don't you dare fucking waste it."

His movements start to slow - the thrusts are languid and gentle until Sam finally pulls himself out of your abused pussy. He grips your thighs and lowers them until you can finally breathe freely again, gasping in the cool, refreshing air.

"There you go. Deep breaths, honey," Sam coaxes, running his hands along your sore hips, massaging gently into the aching flesh. You do as you're advised and calm your breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. Sam did the same until he slumped into the mattress next to you, groaning into the sheets.

You smile lazily at him, "You okay over there?"

Sam nods into the bed, still letting out a low groan, "Y'fuckin' drained me."

Pride wells in your chest. You giggle at him, earning you a playful slap on your thigh. Your giggle turns into a hearty laugh before you nestle next to Sam, eyes fluttering shut with fatigue. He takes notice and nudges you.

"Bathroom, no UTI's for us today."

You retort, "Sam, I don't think I can even walk properly right now."

He shifts and rises from the bed, scooping you into his arms and lifting you to his chest. Your laughs echo around the room as Sam Winchester takes you to the bathroom, ever the gentleman.

Hi! Thank you all for your patience as i get out of my lil' brain funk. I hope you enjoyed!

If you liked this fic, reblog to show others! Who cares if we're depraved little animals?? don't you just wanna go apeshit???

anyways ily, and i hope this fic gets the love it needs cause i had a wonderful time writing it >:3

[mahi-wayy]

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐫 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠? 𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing : dean winchester x brown!fem!reader

fandom & series : supernatural | brown!reader series ( dean ver. )

length : 3.9k ( not proofread. deal with it. )

summary : "बिस्तर ये तेरा मेरा अरे जंग का मैदान है" [ OR ] tension between you and dean finally snaps.

warnings : foul language, mention of gore, misogyny, inappropriate touch, drunk men ( yes these mfs should be a warning ) eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex ( NO! BAD! wrap it up guys ) creampie, dom/sub dynamics ( kind of ) sub!dean winchester, dry humping, edging, impala sex ( ALMOST ) dirty talk, oral ( both m & f recieving ) begging, glimpse of pussy drunk dean, slight degradation, praise kink, cowgirl position.

library

It all started with you wanting to help him.

It's been well over 6 months since you've been travelling with Sam and Dean and life has turned out to be a lot more fun than you thought. Sure the boys got their noses in all things trouble but they did it to save people.

And hunting wasn't as scary as you thought, though you were learning the physical part of the job, you had the lore and talking to witnesses part covered from like the first week.

So you didn't think you would encounter this much resistance from Dean when you offered help in a salt and burn for a vengeful spirit.

People were dropping dead almost like flies - one victim after another in a span of hours - all with the same cause of death. A slit throat so deep you could see the bones and stuff.

When the fourth victim drops it creates a hindrance in the investigation. They had to go talk to the boyfriend of the previous victim, hit the new crime scene but also go investigate the brother of the very first victim - A guy named Alex who hangs out at a local strip club.

So you came up with a simple idea. Sam hits the crime scene/morgue. Dean goes to the witness and you can check out the strip club. Simple right? Not if Dean had something to say about it.

“You're not going to the strip club. Or the witness. Or crime. Just your pretty self in here.”

He had said with absolute tone and it pulled out a scuff from you as an instinct which makes the man give you a look.

“Why not?”

“Because me and Sam have places to be at and you're not going alone.”

“But-”

“Sweetheart this isn't a discussion.”

She had to fight the urge to snarl at the man. Just what on God's green earth does he think will happen if you go to a club? Men? Pft as if you can't handle a bunch of idiots.

“Dean come on, this is ridiculous.” You say when you see him grab the room key.

“Good. I like ridiculous. Stay.”

He says - Sam shakes his head behind him - before the brothers leave. You wait till you hear baby driving away before sliding the window open. Contrary to what Dean thinks, he isn't the first man trying to keep you in ‘your room’ your dad tried plenty.

So getting out wasn't an issue in the slightest neither was finding the club nor was slipping in especially when they mistook you as one of the new servers. Just your luck.

▪︎ ☆ ▪︎

Contrary to what they believed men weren't half as complicated. Even easier to manipulate.

A tight fit white blouse, a flowing sheer matching ankle length skirt, just the right hair flip with a touch of swaying hips and smooth smile.

That's all it took to have not only Alex but more than half the club wrapped around your tiny finger.

Men.

“Haven't seen you around.”

The targeted man said once you made your way to the bar after serving some beers to a table. Bingo!

“I'm new around here.”

You keep your voice but light like a whisper in the passing.

“Then how about I buy you your first drink here, pretty girl?”

Alex is a decent man, on the taller side with dark hair and light eyes. Hmm you've seen better but still you let your chin rest on your palm smiling.

“Sure.”

Alcohol burns down your throat but you don't mind it, kind of feels nice actually.

“So what's your name or am I just supposed to call you pretty?”

His words slur a bit at the end and it almost makes you grimace but you don't let it show especially when one of his hands reaches to tuck back your hair.

You take a soft inhale - and a shot - before throwing out an alias.

“Pretty name for a pretty woman, I'm Alex Thompson.”

Finally something you can turn into a bait.

“Thompson as in girl who got murdered?”

“Yeah, that was my sister.”

“Oh no I'm so sorry. I just read it in passing on a headline. What happened?”

“Some psychopath broke into her house.”

You narrow your eyes as he takes another swig of his drink - her eyes anywhere but you - he's hiding something. You were about to speak again but he beat you to it.

“But let's not talk about that.” He says in a voice that raises all sorts of warning bells in your head because a) this man is drunk and b) he's definitely attracted to you.

“How about you and me get out of here and have a more private chat.”

He says leaning close, you could smell the alcohol and his overly manly and overly cheap colonge but it was the hand slipping up your arm that made it so hard to not knee the man in his balls.

Intel. You need just a little more.

“I-”

“Hey buddy.”

A voice - familiar voice - interrupts tapping Alex on his shoulders and it happens way too quickly - the moment the drunk man turns around he's met with a fist square in the face making him stumble out of the stool and onto the floor.

You look up only to find the most green pair of eyes you know, narrowed at you in what seemed like anger and disappointment.

Dean.

He doesn't even give you a moment to contemplate anything before his hand grabs your hand - mindful of your bangles even in a fit of rage - dragging you out.

▪︎ ☆ ▪︎

“Dean what the hell!?”

You say freeing your hand once his grip loosens when you two are near the baby. He's not angry as before but he's still pissed.

“Did you have to punch him!?”

He scoffs before turning to face you - eyes dark with anger but something else.

“I don't know, did he have to touch you!?”

“This is ridiculous, there is no way he's talking to you or me again.”

“Well good thing Sam is still an option.”

Oh my god this man-

“You could've talked it out.”

“Well it didn't work when I tried to talk you in staying the fuck out of that place!!”

“I'm not a little girl, I can handle it.”

“That is not the point.”

“Then what is it!?”

You see his jaw clench but you don't make a comment.

“Get in the car.” Oh wow-

“No. Answer me first.”

“I swear to- get in the damn car.”

“No, answer me first!!”

“Because I don't like it!”

He yelled out louder than you - voice booming in the empty parking area - and now it made sense. The impulsive punch to the face, the reluctance is letting you come here.

“I don't like you being in a strip club alone, I don't like other men looking at you and I sure as hell don't like other men touching you.”

Dean Winchester was jealous.

“You're ridiculous.”

“Seriously-”

He was cut off when she kissed him all but slamming him back into his own car. Fuck.

There is no soft gesture about it - not at all - not in the way she scratches and tugs at his scalp or the way he wraps his arms around her.

The tension between them has been seemering for months now. Stolen glances, almost kisses, brushing touches, protective behavior. They knew feelings but neither of them were willing to say or do something.

That was until tonight.

He hears the impala door click before she takes a step back - lips still on his - opening the door when she pulls him. Pushing him back across the driver's seat - his shoulders connecting with the passenger's side door with a soft thump - before climbing over him, the door shutting behind her.

It's a tight fit - between his particularly not small frame and her skirt - but neither of them care. Not when her lips are back on his and her hand slipping in his hair and his hand resting at the curve of her ass.

Holy shit.

The kiss breaks when they need air and she trails down to his jaw - his head automatically turning to the side - he grabs her waist with one hand, another going to cradle her head as he sits up.

By the time they settle again she's straddling him and their tongues are locked in another duel and you can't give two fucks about the steering wheel digging in your back.

Not when one, you can feel how hard Dean is right under you and second, the sounds he is letting out. The soft grunts and moans, his hands everywhere as his hips bucked up in response to yours rolling down.

“We need more space.”

“Sam's still tied up at the crime scene/morgue.”

“Drive.”

With that she kisses him one last time before slipping off his lap and into the passenger seat. He dares to look at her and dammit she's such a sight. Messy hair and swollen lips and the upper two buttons of her blouse are unhooked.

Dean hits the gas.

▪︎ ☆ ▪︎

They barely stumble in the motel room before he's pressing you into the door. He's so sure he ran at least two lights getting here but your lips and your touch is worth it. So worth it.

Your hands make quick work of his jacket and plaid - just as his make of unbuttoning your blouse - knocking them off his shoulders without a care. He was ready to pick you up and throw you on the bed when you hook your ankle against his and use the loss of balance to switch the positions.

“Wha-”

The words die on his tongue when you pull off his henley next - your lips attaching themselves to his collarbone - your nails digging in his sides a little as you trail down kisses, licking, sucking and biting all the way down to his belt buckle.

“Sweetheart, fuck-”

He breathes, even on your knees you look as pleased and in control as ever. Your mouth busies itself with mouthing at his belly while your hands work the buckle.

Fucking hell you'll drive him insane.

Dean lets out a sound mix of a strangled moan and whines the moment you take his dick in your hand. Breathes of her name fall from his lips without a thought.

You continue your antics, running your tongue against the underside and the pretty pink tip of his cock.

He doesn't let out a moan until he feels your mouth around him.

It's fascinating to see Dean like this - falling apart on your mouth - his head thrown back, eyes barely open and hands looking for purchase.

The purchase comes in the form of the back of your head, he tries to push you a little more on his cock, maybe pick up the pace but you not only resist it but smack his hand away.

“If you can't behave yourself when you're touching me then don't.”

Your voice is raspy from taking him down your throat but the words still send a shiver down his spine making him fight the urge to buck his hips and whine.

You resume your task of sucking him off and this time he whines because dammit he wants more than the steady pace. He wants faster. He wants more.

But there is an urge to be good, something which stops him from bucking his hips. Makes him behave.

The orgasm builds steady, heat rising in his stomach as the knot of.pleasure tightens as she bobs her head back and forth and he's close.

“Sweetheat- fuck- sweetheart I'm-”

The sentence ends in a high whine because you pull him off right that moment, his hips buck up but there is nothing as you stand up pushing back your hair.

Your smile confirms you did that on purpose just as you kiss him all lazy like you just didn't ruin what could have been one of his best orgasms.

Your fingers hooks in the thread of the amulet, tugging not with enough force to break it but enough with that he gets the message to follow her. He makes sure to kick off his jeans and boxers somewhere on the way.

His hands touch anywhere and everywhere he can until he hears the back of her knees hit the bed - grabbing her waist to stabilize her for a moment - his hands all but tear the hooks of her skirt.

Looking up at her as he lifts her out of it and onto the bed - making sure her head hits the pillow - as they get back to the kiss, their hips grinding together and he's not sure if it's his precum or her wetness but what he knows is her panties are soaked.

And he wants a taste. He knows that too.

“Hey you with me?” Your voice breaks his haze and he looks down at her, pretty. That's all that comes to mind. You're pretty with the unbuttoned blouse and panting and a little flushed.

Dean can't really stop himself from leaning down and capturing your lips in another kiss. Whining and grunting in your mouth, hips still bucking against your clothed core.

“Taste-” He pants once they pull away. “I want to taste. Please, come on baby let me.”

“Yeah? Go ahead. Come on pretty boy, put that mouth to good use. Make me feel good.” You urged pushing him down by the shoulder.

So he imitates your action from before kissing, licking, biting his way down to your soaked panties before looking up at you as he bites the edge of panties pulling them down your leg before tossing them off.

“Gonna make you feel good.”

He murmurs as your legs spread enough to accommodate that strong broad build of his. He moans the moment his tongue makes the first swipes against your pussy.

Better than he thought. So much better.

“So good- GOD!!! Dean right there.”

His hands squeeze your thighs - moaning against your core at the praise - his brain losing thoughts other than building your pleasure. Sucking and licking, over and over. A particular moan from you has him look up.

He whines at the image that you are, hair a mess of dark threads on the pillow, brown skin glistened with sweat, letting out soft breathy moans.

His eyes roll back the moment your hips buck up, your bangles making a soft clunk as you tug him by the hair, guiding his mouth.

Fuck he can spend a lifetime like this.

Which is also the main reason why he whines as pathetically as he does when you pull him off your core by his hair.

“Shhh stop whining baby, don't you want to be inside me when I cum?” You ask all cheeky.

His brain suffers a different kind of short circuit at that because yeah he wants to. He wants to be inside you so bad.

“Come here. Give me a kiss with those pretty lips.”

His body moves automatically leaning up until his lips - very much soaked in your juices - are pressing against yours. He doesn't even think of protesting when you press him on the mattress, climbing on top of him.

“You're gonna be good?”

You're going to kill him. Still he nods because what a way to go.

“Use your words baby, come on.”

“Y-yeah. Yes I'll be good. Please pleas-”

He is cut off by a moan that pretty much punches its way out of him, his eyes rolling back as you slowly sink down on him.

He lets out a shaky breath or was it a whine? As he bottoms out. You're warm and your gummy walls were gripping him for dear life.

“Fuck- Dean. So good.”

She breathes out - her hands pressing against his chest - as she gives herself a minute. The praise hits right yet again and he almost bucks up his hips.

“Shhh. Stay still. You're a good boy Dean.”

He whines at that because he wants to be a good boy but he needs you to move before he embarrasses himself by cumming only from having you around him.

“Move-” He forced himself to breathe as your cunt squeezed around him - fucking tease. “Please, please move please.”

So you do.

It starts with a slow but firm grind, then turns into shallow bounces before you find a rhythm. The pace set is fast but not necessarily rough. It's messing with his already much from pleasure brain.

And in hindsight he isn't surprised he started begging when he did.

“Gonna cum. Wanna cum’ please please. Let me cum’ please.”

“Just a little long baby, come on. I'm so close.”

He whines high in his throat when you say that, when your walls clamp around him so deliciously but he isn't allowed to fill you up.

“Please please- let me cum. I'll goo’ please-”

He is close to sobbing at this point and just makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Go ahead-” You pant out. “-cum for me, pretty boy. Let go.”

He doesn't take much for him from, his hips buck up twice before he moans the loudest of the night - throwing back his head as he shoots his load right into you, triggering your own orgasm.

It takes both of you at least a minute to ride out the high before you get off of him, to lay down beside him while he lazily pulls up the covers wrapping you in cheap motel sheets and his arms.

“Remind me to try to hold you back more often.”

That pulls out a chuckle from you as settle down in his arms - exhausted but satisfied. A long beat of silence passes before you speak.

“We need to clean up before Sam gets back.”

Dean's rather colorful cursing makes you laugh again.

a/n : sub!dean I wanna mess you up so bad my baby

tags : @bluemerakis @deansbeer @daylighted @soldiersgirl @h8aaz @titsout4jackles @bejeweledinterludes @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @jmoonk @yawnzshit @figthoughts let me know if I forgot you or you want to be added or removed!!

[s7nburn]

Be quiet for me

Summary: Dean had already gone to sleep, leaving you and sam alone and sharing a bed. He won't wake up, right?

Warnings: Sexy time, soft dom sam, overstim, clit play, unprotected sex, hand over mouth ����, praise, dean in the next bed over, established relationship, spooning

A/C: another idea my friend gave me ^⁠_⁠^, @9doorsbanging go follow or else !!! Also i had no idea how to end this so sorry 😔

Hunting wasn't easy, especially not this one. You, sam, and dean were on a hunt in Virginia. Some ghost hunt along the Appalachian trail. Numerous people have gone missing in the mountains, one thing that doesn't help is that theirs millions of stories about ghosts or demonic presence within the woods.

It's been a long day, interviews the vic's family, talking to the police, you know..breaking the law, but you three still have no idea which ghost this actually is.

You three return back to the motel at which your staying at, hoping to get a couple hours of sleep. its around 12 am right now, you and sam share a bed while dean gets his own.

Sam's hand runs up and down your back, kissing your neck and jaw. It's been a while since you two had sex, always so busy with research or fighting for your life's.

"Sam, we can't." You whisper, turning to face him. You see his piercing eyes, his hair glimmer in the street light shining through the motel blinds. He caresses your face, "we can be quiet. Can you do the for me?" He whispers back. You slowly nod your head, "okay, turn back around, baby." He says.

He pulls down your shorts and underwear, sam reaches around and places his two fingers over your clit, rubbing it in slow circles, your breath hitches at the sensation. Sam chuckles softly and asks you, "does that feel good?". He knows it does, he knows you so well. He knows everything about your body.

You let out another whimper as he rubs faster, dipping into your slick every now and then. Sam lays there with a smirk on his face, he loves making you feel good, he loves being the only one who can.

You feel it in your stomach, the rope thinning. Your little breaths get quicker, sam notices this and moves his hand away from your clit. You whine at the lack of stimulation. Sam shushes you as he pulls his cock out from his boxers, he puts his hand to your mouth, "spit."

He rubs your saliva into his cock, then presses it against your hole. He slides it in slowly, covering your mouth with his hand. Your back is now pressed firming against his chest.

If anything, sam is the one who needs a hand over his mouth, he whimpers as his tip hits your cervix. He mutters a swear as he almost pulls out before slamming back into you.

His pace gets faster as time goes on, he brings his hand back around to rub your clit with his calloused fingers. The friction of his hands and his cock is to much, you let out quiet moans into his hands, your toes curl, and your legs shake.

"There you go, baby, doing so good for me." Sam praises, burying his face into your hair. He kisses your head. "Cum for me."

Your eyes roll back, feeling everything he's doing to you. Revelling in it. Your moans get louder, little squeaks being let out. "I got you, baby." Sam says before he shushes you once more.

Not long after, he cums. His hips stutters, his breath becomes uneven and quick, bitting his lip, he tries to be quiet.

He kisses your head again, calming down before he slips out of you, rubbing your back.

Dean shifts in his bed, "remind me to get a separate room next time."

Man ts so buns 🙏😭

[vmiina]

summary dean winchester wearing pink panties <3!

warnings 18+ mdni! feminization praise porn without plot sub!dean <3 dom!reader god forbid a girl has hobbies unprotected p in v FILTHY talk there’s a plot twist the panties are lace and not satin mommy kink dean gets edged once ooc dean i’m afraid creampie!!!!

notes this has been sitting in my drafts for two months and i’m sorry i’m posting this now. my life has been absolute hell since the start of the year and it’s only been getting worse and i’ve been stressed out of my mind so i haven’t had motivation to write. but here this is… i feel like this is utter dogshit and i’m embarrassed to post this but whatever.

dean doesn’t blush. he doesn’t stammer, doesn’t shift nervously like a schoolgirl, doesn’t look down at the floor like it might swallow him whole. but right now—standing in front of you, wearing nothing but your delicate pink panties—he does all of that.

his strong body looks out of place—absurd, even—in the fragile fabric, the contrast making you feel lightheaded. the lace hugs his hips, the sheer material doing nothing to hide the way his cock twitches beneath it. his thighs are tense, his hands clenched at his sides like he’s fighting every instinct screaming at him to run, to cover himself, to pretend this never happened.

but you don’t let him.

you step forward, fingers grazing his bare chest, nails lightly scratching over the freckles all over his skin. “look at you,” you coo, the words sweet, but at the same time so, so cruel. “so pretty, baby. prettier than i thought you’d be.”

dean squeezes his eyes shut, exhaling sharply. “jesus,” he mutters, shifting uncomfortably. his face is burning with embarrassment, his ears pink. “this is so—“

“so… what?” you tilt your head, trailing your fingers up to his throat, nails pressing just enough to make him shiver. “embarrassing? humiliating?”

his jaw flexes, the muscle ticking. he doesn’t answer. he doesn’t have to. you already know.

you push him onto the bed, and he lies down— reluctant but obedient, his breath coming a little quicker now. you straddle his lap, hands running up and down his arms, pushing them above his head. his biceps flex under your touch, but he doesn’t fight you.

“such a good boy,” you purr, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his lips. “letting me dress you up like this. letting me have my way with you.”

dean swallows hard. his lips part like he wants to argue, to say something biting like he usually does, something sharp-edged to remind you that he’s still dean winchester, that he’s still in control, like he always is. but right now? he isn’t.

you feel the sharp rise and fall of his chest beneath you, his tense muscles under your touch. he’s still trying so hard to hold on, still pretending he has all the control, but you can see it slipping. you can feel it in the way his fingers twitch against the sheets, in the way his breath hitches when you run your nails down his stomach, teasing the waistband of the panties.

“dean,” you murmur, dragging his name out slowly. “don’t fight it, let go.”

his throat bobs with a thick swallow. his green eyes flick up to yours, desperate, embarrassed, burning with something he doesn’t dare to name.

“i look ridiculous,” he mutters, voice rough.

“no,” you correct, fingers tracing the lace stretched over his hips. “you look perfect.” you lean down, your lips ghosting over his jaw, barely a trace of a kiss. “my pretty boy.”

dean exhales slowly, a sound somewhere between a grunt and a whimper. it’s the sound that finally breaks him. his hands, once clenched into fists, uncurl. his body, once tense with resistance, melts into the bed, into your touch.

”there you go,” you whisper, pressing soft kisses along his throat, feeling his pulse race beneath your lips. “good boy.”

dean’s whole body shudders at the praise. he turns his head away, like he can’t bear to look at you, but he still does no effort to stop you. he lets you touch him, lets you pull at the lace, lets you drag your fingers over his flushed skin.

“so pretty like this,” you murmur, running your hands over his thighs, feeling the way he trembles under your touch.

he exhales a shuddering breath. “fuck,” he whispers, already sounding wrecked even when you haven’t done anything yet.

you smirk, pressing your lips against his ear. “you’ll wear them again for me, won’t you?”

his fingers grip the sheets. your hands move lower and when you press a soft, teasing kiss to his stomach. dean lets out a soft whimper, hips bucking up, desperate for some relief to the ache that just keeps growing and growing.

“…yeah,” he breathes, barely audible. “yeah, okay.”

you let out a soft, pleased hum at his words, certainly pleased with how dean looks beneath you. not even trying to fight anymore, not putting on a tough facade, just fully allowing himself to submit to you, it’s so unlikely of him and you can’t help but enjoy it.

your fingers tug on the hem of the delicate panties, pulling them aside agonizingly slow, revealing his hard, weeping cock. you don’t take them fully off, letting them sit at his hips, if it was up to you, you’d always make dean wear them.

you climb up from between dean’s legs, straddling his hips, putting all your weight on him. you sit there like that for a while, watching him like you’re trying to memorize every single detail. you could stay there and watch dean forever, but he has other plans.

“please mommy—“ he whimpers, eyes locking onto yours, looking absolutely horrified like he doesn’t believe what he just said. hearing something like that coming from dean, he never begs, he always gets what he wants without even having to ask. but here he is, desperately needing you to do something—anything—to him.

you lean down, your hot breath brushing against dean’s face. you furrow your brows, giving him an almost pitiful look. “need mommy to take care of you? need mommy to touch you?” you coo, pressing kisses on his heated cheeks as your arm reaches down, fingertips tracing the edge of the panties before you grip his cock firmly. “that what you need?”

dean lets out a soft gasp, reaching down to grasp your hips, squeezing them in an attempt to calm himself down, but it’s all too much for him. the praise, your touch— it could easily make dean cum right there and then. “yes— fuck,” he murmurs, biting his lip, not wanting to be too loud. “yes, mommy,” dean quickly corrects, knowing you’d probably scold him if he forgot the nickname.

you grin at his words, giving his cock a firm squeeze before you start stroking his length as slowly and as agonizingly as you possibly could. “you’re so good for me, the best, even,” you praise, smashing your lips onto dean’s. he kisses you back, making it painfully obvious how much he actually needs you, especially with the way his hands travel all over your hips to your waist, how he bucks his hips up into your touch, and how he keeps letting out soft ‘ah’’s and ‘ugh’’s into the kiss, the sounds barely muffled by your lips.

as soon as you feel dean’s length twitch in your hold, a sign that he’s getting close to his release, you let go, leaving him aching for the high you’ve driven him so close to. once the kiss is broken, he lets out a ragged breath, alongside it a needy whine. “no— you’re so… so unfair,” he whispers, nails digging into your waist.

“unfair? baby i could show you just how unfair i can be. i’m being kind right now, should be grateful..” you tease, bringing your other hand up to cup his cheek while the other one works on your panties, dragging them off and throwing them somewhere in the room.

you align the tip of his cock with your entrance, sinking down onto him with a soft grunt, trying to adjust to the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

dean lets out a soft whimper, his lips parting in a way that indicates he wants to say something, but it only comes out in a mixture of incoherent words and moans. you slowly start moving your hips, letting out a gasp as dean’s cock brushes against your g-spot, sending electricity through you.

“what’s that?.. use your words, baby. i know you can,” you say breathlessly, leaning in closer to his face, pressing your lips against the side of his face. “you just turn so fucking— pathetic the second you get buried in me?” you scoff, feeling your breath grow heavier by every movement of your hips. “you’re so fucking— ah!—“

“please…” dean huffs, clearly breathless as his hands travel all over your body, trying to find something he can hold onto to stabilize his breathing, himself. “harder, faster— mommy please,” dean pleads, holding eye contact with you.

you do as he says, picking up the pace, slamming your hips to his with more force, feeling the lace against your skin faintly. “of course, anything for you. you’re such a good boy, dean,” you praise yet again, knowing exactly what it does to him. his hands squeeze your waist hard, leaving marks of his hands there, making the skin burn after.

“i’m so fuckin’ close— mommy, please—“ dean begs, his cock twitching inside your cunt as he bites his lip, hard, to keep back moans.

“i know, baby, i know. it’s okay, give it to me,” you murmur, hands reaching up to grasp dean’s short hair, tugging on it, eliciting a grunt from him. he grabs your hips, holding you still as he buries himself to the hilt, spilling his cum deep inside you.

you stay like that for a moment. “gonna wear these for—“ you start, unable to finish your question before dean cuts you off.

“no,” he sternly says, tugging the panties off.

taglist!! @tinas111 @bluemerakis @soldiersgirl @h8aaz @briisbananass @briiverse @littlesoulshine @bejeweledinterludes @spiritkissin @honeyryewhiskey comment to be added or removed <3

[deansbeer]

dean eating you out like a man who's starved. mhm. 🤰🏻

adult content | minors do NOT interact.

warning(s) smut | oral sex ( fem receiving ) | pussy slapping | dean is a fucking tease but wbk | mild degradation | edging | rough sex | praise kink | dom!dean | dean's a lil freak & loves when reader begs for him.

it's supposed to be a lazy day. nothing to do, nowhere to go, just the two of you tangled in bed. but DEAN has never been able to keep his hands to himself when it comes to you. and now, you're spread out underneath him, a complete mess, his broad shoulders keeping your thighs pinned wide as his mouth works you over like it's his favorite fucking meal.

"dean—fuck, i can't," you whimper, your hands gripping at the sheets as his tongue flicks over your clit, slow and deliberate. he's been at it for what feels like forever, switching between sucking, licking, and teasing until you're trembling, your body so sensitive you can't think straight.

he pulls back just enough to look up at you, and the cocky grin on his face makes your stomach flip. "can't?" he repeats, his voice low and playful. "nah, baby, you can. you're gonna."

you start to protest, but the words die in your throat when his fingers slide into you, curling just right, and his mouth is back on you, relentless. your hips buck against him, trying to escape the overwhelming pleasure, but his free hand presses down on your stomach to keep you in place.

"DEAN!" you cry out, your voice breaking, and that's when he does it—pulls his mouth away just enough to slap your pussy. not too hard, but enough to make you yelp, your whole body jolting at the sharp sting.

"shit," he groans, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches you squirm. "look at you, darlin'. so fuckin' pretty when you're like this. all worked up f'me."

"you're such an ass," you pant, glaring at him, but the heat in your voice is undercut by the way your hips roll, seeking more of his touch.

he smirks, his fingers sliding out of you only to deliver another quick slap to your slick folds, and you gasp, your back arching off the bed. "yeah?" he teases, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh. "an ass who's got you drippin' all over the fuckin' sheets, baby."

"de, please," you whine, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. more of his mouth, his fingers, his cock—anything, everything.

"please what, baby?" he murmurs, kissing his way back up your body until he's hovering over you, his cock hard and heavy against your thigh. "tell me what ya want."

"you," you manage, your voice shaking. "just fuck me already."

his grin widens, and he leans down to kiss you, slow and filthy, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "thought you'd never ask," he mutters, lining himself up and sliding into you in one smooth thrust.

and just like that, your lazy day is anything but. <3

[mimic-man]

Spn boys NSFW headcannons (CIS male reader)

Dean

You had to help him out the first few times but after that he got it DOWN.

One of his favorites are you on your knees sucking him off.

He definitely teases you by moving his hand really close to your crotch or sometimes he full on just palms you through your pants when your sat next to him however it highly depends on what is going on and where you guys are at.

If you were one of the "villains" you two definitely used to have hate sex.

If you aren't them you two just have sex to release some steam if it's more of a friends with benefits relationship but if it's a romantic relationship then it's because you two genuinely enjoy having sex

Most definitely rough sex most times but if he has the time and or nobody will be around for a while then it'll be more sensual.

Sam

He more of a groaner than like a moaner/whimperer.

I mean maybe you can get him whimpering 🤷

Don't pull his hair no matter how tempting it is...

He definitely likes you riding him but if you are the dom you then missionary. (He definitely does missionary even when he's Dom)

He does like seeing your face during sex.

Nothing to out of the normal he's pretty simple when it comes to sex.

Castiel

He doesn't make much noise I mean maybe a groan here and there and if you're lucky a moan or whimper.

He's a little clueless when it comes to sex despite him watching the pizza man and the baby sitter... But that's okay! You help him the best you can.

You can definitely get him to moan or whimper if you suck him off.

You most definitely end up the dom most times.

If you like rough sex then he’ll participate but he does enjoy gentle and sensual sex more.

You two have most definitely gotten caught and or have been overheard while having sex.

Crowley

You know he's in the mood when he starts getting handsy.

He'll pull you into his lap or if you guys are around people he'll pull you away or teleport you two away.

This does happen quite often.

You don't really know what you do to make him horny but you do make him horny a lot.

You've two been caught making out somewhere in the bunker because Crowley had pulled you away.

You two have experimented quite a lot.

He denies it but he does really like intimate and soft sex.

He does occasionally like you as the top but when you are the top you are 6/10 times a soft top

He does get whiny and bratty. Mostly when you two have been very busy and haven't had sex in a while.

Definitely sasses you during sex. He has a loud mouth and he can't help himself.

Praise him and he seems fine but on the inside he is DYING

Gabriel

He's even worse than Crowley when it comes to getting handsy.

He is a brat when he's the sub for sure.

Kinky as hell 💀

You've guys practically have tried EVERYTHING.

A little bit after he returned from being tortured you guys basically had a whole day spent on having sex.

He enjoys either making your brain turn to mush or having you turn his brain to mush.

He has a lot of energy and when I say a lot I mean A LOT.

He is a major switch when it comes to you.

Jack

I don't know if it's alright to do some for him since he's technically like 3 but he's fully grown so let me know if it is 😭💀

[bohemianblasphemy]

things sam winchester would do bc i said so✨

N/SFW

SFW

- sam would be the best boyfriend. he is just such a sweet man and he’s so big n tall n cuddly HES SO BOYFRIEND. such a gentleman.

- remembers the small things about you - he knows your coffee order by heart and your favourite things. he will get something that relates to it to see that beautiful smile on your face - it makes him happy to see you happy.

- he says I love you first.

- gives the best hugs.

- mornings with sam are perfection. he gets up before you, wanting to cook a breakfast for the both of you. when you walk into the kitchen he’s at the stove cooking up, you wrap your arms around him and he smiles as his love embraces him.

- he’d be very protective of you. with his past experiences with jess he is scared of losing you and he will do anything in his power to keep you safe. it took him a while to pursue you due to his fear, but after dean convincing him to (bc he was getting sick of the pining between you two) he was all in, nothing could seperate you both.

- cuddles, cuddles and even more cuddles. yes he is a big spoon but you know what??? some days he wants to be held. he will put his head on your chest, letting his hands roam your torso and feel your warm skin against his fingers. bonus points for playing with his hair whilst he’s like that, he loves it and will make lil sighs and content noises.

-oh he is king of kissing. its just so gentle and sweet, he can never get enough of you. its cute as fuck when he kisses your forehead, cheeks, the tip of your nose and then pecks your lips. he’s also a fan of giving and receiving neck kisses.

a passionate man.

speaking of passionate…

NSFW

- he is a dom ( i mean did we not see the scene with Ruby???). he definitely uses his height to his advantage - knowing that it gets you hot and bothered seeing his lust filled eyes looking down at you, teasing you ever so slightly with his long fingers.

- he can be very rough and passionate, but he also makes love like there’s no tomorrow. one minute he can be absolutely pounding into you and smacking your ass, the next minute he will be gentle and soft- kissing all over you and praising the fuck outta you.

- praise kink. enough said.

- he l o v e s dirty talk.

“you’re such a good girl for me, i can’t get enough of you…”

“ fuck baby your mouth feels amazing, i need more…”

- you cannot convince me this man does not live to eat pussy. don’t get me wrong, he absolutely loves when receives oral but MAN he will not stop at anything to get a taste of you. (extra points for pulling his hair, he loves that too). he also leave hickeys behind on your inner thighs…

- he loves missionary. his need to look at you whilst he fucks you senseless - it makes him hard. he needs you to looks at him, watching you come undone makes him cum harder inside you. he is also a fan of you on top, adores seeing your tits bounce whilst you ride his cock. (defs a boob man)

- aftercare is so important to him. he will sing sweet praises to you, meets any needs that you may wish for and follows through.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

i hope you enjoyed!!! please do send in requests if you would like!!! ✨✨

[prentissluvr]

better than a sight for sore eyes — sam winchester

pairing : sam winchester x gn!reader ➖⟢ genre : suggestive MDNI ➖⟢ cw : established relationship, once again not smut, but nsfw and highly suggestive!! so minors and ageless blogs DNI !!! swearing, a lot of horny thoughts, kind of implied switch-ish!reader and dom-ish!sam, but no hard-set sub/dom dynamic (sam is just a menace), barely edited, no use of y/n ➖⟢ wc : 1K inspired by this gif set !! check it out for the full feeling horny over sam winchester experience !! MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI. i will block you without a second thought if you do !!! feel free to check out my sfw works instead :)

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

sam is far more than a sight for sore eyes. in that grey, v-neck t-shirt with his arms crossed and neck shining with a subtle sheen of sweat, he looks like sweet, cool relief from a sweltering heat, hot tea for frigid hands and lips, and simply, but most effectively put, beyond sexy.

he’s saying something about the case to you, and you only know this because your gaze flicks away from his toned arms for just a moment to catch his lips moving.

“–so we’ll head out when dean gets back.”

you figure that’s the most important part of the sentence, so you just nod and hum in acknowledgment before letting your gaze continue raking over his body. you feel like you could drool over the muscles of his chest, forearms, and the bulge of his biceps that are all exaggerated by his folded arms. and his shoulders, god, his shoulders from this angle; you’re looking down at him from the raised platform of the room.

he raises an eyebrow at you, and you catch the smirk that begins to pull at his lips as he turns towards the door.

swallowing hard, you lean against the railing and take in the broadness of his back as walks away, likely to head back to his research.

“when’s he getting back?” you call after him before he can disappear into the next room.

“maybe fifteen,” he speculates, turning back around to face you as he leans against the door frame. god, does he have to do that? he fills up the space in the doorway, so tall and gorgeous, and all you want to do is walk right over to him, tangle your hands in his pretty, pretty hair, and kiss the air out of his lungs. that fucking smirk is still splayed across his lips, and from the looks of it, he knows that all you want right now is to be all over him. you certainly haven’t remotely attempted to be subtle about the way you’ve been staring at him all morning.

you look at him expectantly, hoping he’ll urge you down and over to him for a kiss, maybe with words or a simple hand motion, but he does nothing. he just waits for a beat to see if you have another question before turning back away and heading for the stack of books and files that await him. huffing in frustration, you pad after him, finished with your task in that room anyway.

when you plop down in the seat across from him, he’s already opened up a file and begun to read it. without looking up, he slides one to you. normally, you’d accept it without a complaint, more than willing to get to work. but you really don’t think he should be allowed to look the way he does and act like he doesn’t know it’s making you go a little crazy. all you can think about is getting up, standing behind him and sliding your hands down his chest, then leaning around to suck pretty marks on his sweaty, irresistable neck. maybe you’ll slide a hand up to lightly squeeze at the base of his neck and lick at the sensitive spot right below his jaw to pull a pretty sound from his throat and make it impossible for him to ignore you. 

he’ll grab your wrists and pull your hands away from him, then stand and turn around. and depending on his mood, he might push the chair out of the way and back you up until you hit the wall. one large hand will be on your waist, and the other will pin one of your wrists above your head as he kisses you hard. your free hand will get tangled in the curled edges of the hair at the back of his neck, and he’ll—

sam’s voice calling your name interrupts the fantasy. the tone of his voice is amused, and he can’t seem to get rid of that damn smirk.

“what?” you grumble, annoyed that he won’t let you even think about jumping his bones, much less actually do it. he laughs a little because he thinks you’re cute when you’re mad about this sort of thing. “don’t laugh at me,” you whine, “i’m struggling right now.”

“because i’m focusing on the case instead of fucking you?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

you just about moan at his words. “fuck, sammy, don’t say that. i need you,” you groan.

that has him clenching his jaw and wishing he hadn’t said something so vulgar and opened up the opportunity for you to say that, because it’s always a sure-fire way to chip away at his resolve.

“read your file,” is all he says, pointing to it with his chin. that does absolutely nothing to help, because the motion has got you focusing on his neck again and the way the muscles and tendons are pulled taut for a moment, becoming more pronounced and just begging for your lips all over.

he doesn’t miss the way your gaze travels up from his collarbone to his jaw, then his lips, then his pretty hazel eyes. the way he raises his eyebrows at you when you make eye contact is hot too.

“fuck you, sam,” you complain, no malice whatsoever present in your voice, just something bordering on desperate.

he resists the urge to say “you wish,” but he knows that wouldn’t be fair at all, especially considering he wants that too. instead, he just smiles a little and lets his gaze drop back to the file in his hand. 

“dean will be back too soon, alright? just wait til tonight, baby,” he adds that last part in hopes of sedating you just a bit, and because he certainly means it. he knows that you can’t keep your eyes off him or your thoughts out of the gutter, but he’s having similar troubles. he just has a fun time with the teasing and adores the look in your eyes as they drag all over his frame. 

and just for a moment, he feels all soft as he thinks about the way you never fail to make him feel wanted. so, so wanted. needed, even, if he were to ask you.