xenaxena

[xenaxena]

Bad Day

Pairing: Dr. Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Dr. Jack Abbot x Nurse!Reader

Summary: You're having a bad day at work, but Robby and Abbot know how to make it better.

Content: nsfw, 18+ mdni, smut, established relationship, threesome (m/m/f), vaginal fingering, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, nose kink, praise kink, use of "good girl"

WC: 2k

A/N: Sorry for taking so long to post this, life's been real crazy lately and I haven't had the chance to write much. I'm still trying to get back into the writing flow since I'm a little rusty when it comes to smut so forgive me if this is not the best. I hope you all enjoy it though, and thank you so much for reading!

You were standing at the nurse’s station, watching as more patients were brought in. Some with broken bones, others with the flu. But none of that mattered to you today, you weren’t in the mood to deal with any of them.

You had been snapping at people left and right all day. Langdon, McKay, even Dana. And ever since your first outburst, everyone was trying their best to avoid you.

The only people in the Pitt who were unaware of your frustration, aside from the patients, were Robby and Abbot who had been in a meeting with Gloria for hours. But the moment the two attendings returned to the ED, they were ambushed by residents and doctors telling them that something was up with you.

Robby and Abbot looked at each other, knowing that something must have happened to make you so upset. They turned towards your direction, locking eyes with you from across the Pitt. Your demeanor must have been a dead giveaway as they became visibly concerned, turning to look at one another again.

You watched as Robby and Abbot talked, occasionally glancing in your direction as they spoke. And you couldn’t help but notice the little smirk that twitched on Abbot’s lips as Robby whispered something in his ear.

A few moments passed before the two men went separate ways, Abbot down the hall and Robby now making his way in your direction. You were still rather irritated, but the look in his eyes made most of that frustration turn into nervousness.

You turned towards the computer, trying to pretend that you didn’t notice Robby’s incoming presence. That act lasted all of about two seconds as you soon felt a hand on your shoulder and you slowly turned to see Robby looking down at you with his big brown doe eyes that always made you melt.

“Hey,” Robby said with a smile.

“Hi.”

Even though you were nervous, there was still a hint of irritation in your voice. Something Robby noticed right away.

“Are you feeling okay?” He said tilting his head, still smiling.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah?” he said, moving closer to you. “You sure everything’s fine?” Robby’s voice was lower now, the kind of tone that he knows makes you turn to puddy in his hands.

But his pestering was also making you feel worse. You really didn’t want to think about your problems right now. You didn’t want to think about how a patient called you a bitch after you told him to go back to the waiting room, or the countless others who treated you like shit.

Robby quickly noticed the tears welling up in the corners of your eyes as you got lost in thought, and he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “How about we go somewhere and talk?”

You nod, turning and walking with him down the hall Abbot had gone down earlier. Robby stopped in front of the supply closet door and opened it for you, scanning the hall before walking inside the room too. And you immediately spot Abbot leaning against the nearby wall, staring at you with that familiar smirk on his face.

“Heard you’re having a bad day, is that true?”

You hesitate to respond. That was until you felt Robby’s hands on your waist, his beard scratching against your neck as he whispered in your ear.

“Answer him, sweetheart.”

His voice sends chills down your spine and you stutter out a broken “Yes” as he starts kissing your jaw softly.

There’s a flicker of silence, Abbot watching you and Robby. You stare back at him, observing how his jaw clenches as you gasp at Robby’s touch. Robby moves one of his hands down from your waist, now pulling at the string of your scrub pants.

Abbot steps closer, until your bodies brush. “Then let us help you feel better,” he said as he reached up to cradle your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing across your lips.

The two of you looked at each other for a moment as Robby continued trailing kisses down your neck. You nodded, and that was all Abbot needed. He leaned in, closing the space between you. The kiss deep and slow, your lips a perfect match as he pressed his body against yours.

Abbot reached down to the waistband of your pants, sliding them down with ease as Robby moved to take your shirt off. You were now left in only your bra and panties, feeling far too exposed.

“Beautiful,” Abbot said lovingly, Robby humming in agreement as he kissed your shoulder softly.

Abbot moved his hand down slowly to your panties, his fingertips brushing over the fabric. And Robby grabbed your hips, pulling you against him.

“Oh god…” You bite your lip, feeling Robby’s half-hard cock pressed up against you as Abbot moved the fabric to the side. He slowly slid a finger inside you, watching as you tried to hold back from moaning.

“We want to hear you.” Abbot whispered against your lips as he moved his thumb against your clit, now replacing the one finger inside you with two.

“Fuck…” You moaned out softly, moving one of your arms back to grab at Robby. You could feel Robby smile against your skin. He trailed kisses from your shoulder to your neck until he kissed your cheek.

You turned and kissed him on the lips as Abbot watched. He started moving his fingers faster inside you, playing with your clit the way he knows you like. The feeling of Abbot’s hands and Robby’s mouth at the same time was quickly unraveling you, your orgasm growing with every passing second.

As your orgasm neared, your moaning grew louder and you couldn’t keep up with Robby’s lips. You gasped as Abbot slid a third finger inside you without warning.

“Jack…” you moaned out, grinding against his hand as Robby continued holding your hips tightly. Abbot’s fingers thrusted deeper inside you as you moaned his name, he could sense how close you were. He slowly moved his face next to your ear, lips brushing against your skin as he started to speak.

“Cum for me,” he whispered, his voice low. “Cum on my fingers, sweetheart.”

With those words, you couldn’t hold it back any longer, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure washed over you. You gasped and moaned their names, gripping at Robby’s arm and leaving indents on his skin from your nails.

“That’s it, good girl.” Abbot whispered, slowly moving his fingers inside you as you came down from your orgasm. “You did so good for me.” He peppered kisses on your neck as he praised you, his stubble rubbed against your skin and you sighed softly.

You rested against Robby and Abbot for a moment, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of being so close to them as you tried to steady your breathing. Abbot gently removed his fingers from inside you, slipping his hand out of your panties. Abbot gave a satisfied noise as he looked down at his hand, coated and sticky all because of you. He looked up at you and stared at your mouth for a moment, one single thought popping into his mind.

“Open your mouth.” You didn’t question him, you just obeyed. Abbot pushed the coated fingers in your mouth, letting you taste yourself on his skin. You moan around his fingers before hearing a faint “Fuck” come from Robby as he watched Abbot slowly pull his fingers out of your mouth.

“My turn.” Robby whispered in your ear eagerly, not wasting a single second. He quickly turned you around to face him and pushed you up against the nearest wall. You look over his shoulder to see Abbot now leaning against one of the cabinets, watching with a smirk on his face.

Robby moved his hands to touch every inch of your body he could before carefully kneeling down on the floor and pulling your panties off in one swift movement. He started kissing up your thighs, his beard scratching against the wet skin and causing you to moan. Robby slowly spread your legs, watching as your body reacted to him.

You felt Robby move his thumb through your folds before bringing his face closer, his nose brushing against your clit. He started licking and teasing your hole, getting just a little taste of you that he’d been craving for. He was patient and took his time, keeping his hands on your thighs as he started eating you out slowly.

The deeper he went with his tongue, the harder his nose pressed against your clit. And you gasped, reaching down to push his head further into you. He moaned lowly, the vibrations making you arch your back. Robby’s mouth was hot and his beard made your skin burn in the best way, making you whimper at the contact.

You feel that familiar knot forming in your stomach as he fucks you with his tongue and you lean your head back against the wall, urging yourself to relax. He licks up from your pussy to your clit, sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Robby…” you moan his name and he just sucked on your clit harder. You feel a new presence and open your eyes to see Abbot next to you, watching you become overwhelmed with pleasure. He moves a hand down to Robby’s head and places it on top of yours. Robby moans at the new pressure, sending vibrations to your clit.

“Robby’s taking such good care of you, isn’t he?” Abbot asked, watching you squirm. “He’s making you feel so good.”

“Y-Yes.” You stutter out, the pleasure Robby was giving you becoming too much. You look down at Robby, taking in how happy and satisfied he was. His pupils were wide, watching you and Abbot as he pleasured you. He looked perfect. You knew his lips were swollen from all the kissing and sucking he’d done, and you just wanted to kiss him even more. You wanted to taste yourself mixed with him.

“Stop fighting it,” Abbot said as he started kissing your neck. “He wants you to cum, and you know you want to.”

Abbot’s words weren’t helping you, but he was right. You were so close and Robby wanted you to cum. He wanted you to cover his beard. The scent of your pussy stuck on him for the rest of his shift as a constant reminder of how good he made you feel.

The thought of it made you whimper. And as Robby moved to fuck you with his tongue again as his nose was pressed firmly against your clit, a wave of intense pleasure hit you for the second time as you moaned out Robby’s name repeatedly. Abbot looked at you and then down at Robby, watching you both be overwhelmed with pleasure.

Robby coaxed you through your orgasm with his mouth, giving you every last bit of pleasure he possibly could. You quickly felt your pleasure turning to overstimulation and gave him a soft nudge and he understood. He moved his head away, his beard now visibly covered with you. Abbot smirked as he wiped some of the wetness off of Robby’s face, finally tasting you.

Robby slowly got up off of his knees, a very audible cracking noise coming from them as he stood up. You softly grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips and mouth. You pull back and turn towards Abbot, kissing him too.

“You two are perfect, you know that?” You said, watching them smile at you lovingly.

“Been told that once or twice,” Abbot answered with a smirk. “I don’t know about grandpa over here though.” He joked, motioning towards Robby who just shook his head.

Robby picked up your shirt, panties, and scrub pants off the floor and helped you slide them back on. You looked like a complete mess, and so did Robby. Abbot less so, but he was still noticeably flushed. Perlah and Princess would certainly gossip if they saw you three.

“Thank you for making me feel better.” You say sincerely, smiling at both of them. Robby took one of your hands and started rubbing circles on your palm as Abbot softly caressed your face.

“Any time, sweetheart.” Abbot said, kissing your lips softly as Robby kissed your cheek. And you smiled, knowing they would always be there when you needed them.

[xenaxena]

don't lie to me

part II

Pairing: Boyfriend's!Dad!Ben x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Ben's about to make you his. To hell with his son, he's a goddamn disappointment anyway.

Warnings: 18+!, Ben being his own warning, forbidden relationship, power imbalance, dubious morality, age gap, language, toxic relationship, heartbreak, smut (dirty talk, dry humping, fingering, clitoral stimulation, mutual masturbation, squirting, cunnilingus/oral, p in v, spanking, marking, spitting, degradation, gentle humiliation, implied daddy kink, breeding kink), guilt, nearly getting caught, I think that's it.

Word Count: 5,676

You were still straddling him, legs trembling, your whole body humming with the aftermath—heat blooming in your chest, your thighs, your throat. Everything was slick. Sticky. Heavy with sweat and release and something darker, deeper, that hadn't quite settled yet.

Ben hadn't let go of you.

His hands stayed firm on your waist, thumbs stroking gentle over the curve of your ribs, his breath fanning warm across your shoulder as he leaned back into the couch like he was settling in. His grey sweats were soaked through, darkened with his own release and slick from your mess, sticking to his skin and your thighs where they pressed together. He didn't seem to care. If anything, he looked smug—wrecked and satisfied in that way only men like him could pull off. Still fully dressed, still grounded, while you sat bare-chested in soaked pyjama shorts, open and ruined on top of him.

He shifted beneath you, just slightly, and you felt it again—his fingers, still nestled between your thighs, lazy and unhurried, stroking through the slick heat of you like he was petting something fragile. Like it was nothing to him. Like it was everything.

"You feel that?" He rasped, voice low, laced in grit. "Still fuckin' soaked for me. Gave you two and you're still squirming."

You whimpered before you could stop yourself, forehead dropping to his shoulder. You were oversensitive, lightheaded, and he knew it. Knew exactly what he was doing with those soft, torturous strokes.

And still—he didn't stop.

Ben chuckled, quiet and slow, and lifted his hand from between your legs. His fingers glistened in the low light, wet with you, shining across his knuckles. He watched the way your eyes followed the movement, how your lips parted just a little when he brought those fingers to his mouth.

He sucked one into his mouth, slow and deliberate. His eyes didn't leave yours.

"Jesus Christ," he murmured around his fingers. "You taste like fuckin' heaven."

You shivered. And then—something inside you broke. You followed his lead. Your own hand dragged down your stomach, between your legs, slick and shaking, until your fingers came away just as wet. You held his gaze. Let the tension stretch. Then you lifted them to your lips and sucked them into your mouth—slow, soft, moaning around your fingers as you tasted yourself, your eyes half-lidded, dazed and still trembling.

Ben froze.

His whole body went taut beneath you. And then he made a sound—somewhere between a groan and a growl, feral and low—and his hand flew back between your thighs, pressing deep again as your hips jolted against him.

"Fuckin' hell," he hissed. "Do that again."

You whined, breath catching, sucking a little harder on your fingers as his stroked over your clit again, slower this time, more intense.

"Yeah," he growled. "Look at you. Pretty little mouth on you, shit. You like that, huh? You like tasting what I've done to you?"

You moaned.

Ben's hand closed around your wrist, dragging your fingers from your mouth. Then he brought your hand to his mouth, holding your gaze the whole time. One by one, he kissed the pads of your fingers. Slow. Gentle. Possessive.

"This hand belongs to me now," he murmured, voice fraying at the edges. "You don't use it unless you're thinkin' about me."

You nodded, dazed. "Yes—Ben—"

He kissed your palm, turned it over and kissed the inside of your wrist like he was branding you.

"Damn right."

His fingers were still working you, still dragging through your slick like he didn't plan to stop. And you didn't want him to. You were still buzzing, raw and hot and aching, that edge of need still singing beneath your skin.

But then the shift came. Not loud. Not spoken. Just a curl of something softer. Something real. Your breath caught, your eyes dropped, and guilt started to stir.

Ben felt it instantly. He slowed. His hands didn't stop, but his voice dropped sharper, his gaze narrowing as he caught the subtle change in you.

"Nah," he said, almost like a warning. "Don't do that."

You blinked. "Do what?"

"That look," he said, tone sharp. "Don't gimme that look. All pouty and sad like you feel guilty."

You bit your lip. Tried to look away.

"I just—I shouldn't've—"

"I'll fuck the guilt right outta you," he snapped, but his voice was more gravel than anger. "Don't play dumb. I know you want it. I know you've been wantin' it a long fuckin' time."

You didn't deny it. Couldn't. Because your body was already reacting again—his words pushing that low ache back into full bloom, that filthy, aching want clawing up your spine.

You thought of every moment you'd stolen glances at him across the kitchen. Every time his arm brushed yours, every time he told a joke and your stomach flipped for no goddamn reason. All those nights Jamie left you alone in his house and you sat with Ben instead. How many times had you stared at his hands, his mouth, and wondered?

Too many.

And now you were here—drenched, breathless, and still trembling on his lap while his fingers circled between your thighs like they belonged there.

He leaned up, mouth close to your ear, voice shredded and dark and sweet all at once.

"Don't think I didn't catch you starin' all those times," he whispered. "I saw you. Every fuckin' time. Pretendin' you weren't lookin' at me like that."

You whimpered. "Ben—please—"

He kissed your neck, hot and open, dragging his mouth to your jaw before his fingers slipped deeper again, pushing you right back toward the edge.

"You're mine now," he breathed. "Say it."

"I'm—" your voice cracked, breath catching as your body rolled with his rhythm. "I'm yours, Ben. I'm yours—fuck—"

"Damn right you are."

His hand worked you, two thick fingers buried to the knuckle, curling just right, dragging slick and slow along the gummy-soft spot that made your legs tremble and your vision blur.

You whined, body jolting, overstimulated and messy, the wet squelch of him working you open echoing between your thighs like something obscene. You were sitting in his lap, still wearing your soaked shorts pushed to the side, sweat sticking to your spine, chest bare and rising fast.

And Ben?

Ben was losing his fucking mind.

"Look at you," he growled, eyes locked on the way you clenched around his fingers. "Goddamn perfect. Can't believe I let him keep you as long as he did."

Your breath hitched.

He twisted his wrist slightly and your hips bucked forward, your hand scrambling for purchase on his shoulder.

"Fucked around with you for years," Ben kept going, tone low and dangerous, "draggin' you along like a fuckin' accessory, leavin' you sittin' at my table with those big eyes and polite little smiles while he couldn't even bother comin' home."

You moaned, shuddering against his chest.

"I used to sit there and wonder how the hell he pulled you," he muttered, "how the fuck a guy like that landed a girl like you. You'd laugh at my jokes, bring me beers, always check on me like I was the one you were comin' over to see."

He curled his fingers hard and you cried out, thighs trembling.

"And him?" Ben scoffed, kissed your throat, voice thick with rage and filth and want. "Little shit was too busy lookin' at himself in the mirror. Couldn't touch you right. Couldn't see you."

You gasped, hips rolling against his hand. "Ben—fuck—"

"I should've taken you off his hands two... three years ago," he hissed, mouth dragging wetly across your jaw. "Should've bent you over my goddamn kitchen table the second he walked out the door. Should've made you mine before he ever got the chance to waste you."

You whimpered.

"You like that?" He rasped. "You like hearin' me talk shit about him while I've got you drippin' on my fingers? That do somethin' for you, baby girl?"

You couldn't answer. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your thighs twitching violently, your whole body trying to stay upright while his fingers ruined you.

"'Course you do," he growled. "Bet you've been fantasisin' about this. Bet you pictured me touchin' you while you laid next to him at night, wonderin' why it never felt like enough."

He pushed in deeper, faster, harder now, his hand slapping wetly between your thighs as your hips rolled helplessly with each stroke.

"Bet you touched yourself after comin' over here," he kept going, voice shaking. "Sat in your bed at night with your hand between your legs, wishin' it was mine."

You moaned, tears threatening the corners of your eyes.

Ben's mouth found your neck again, kissed you hard there, then muttered against your skin:

"Could've had this for years, baby. And you're tellin' me I waited for nothin'?"

You shattered.

You came on his fingers again, harder than before, your body arching, your hips grinding down as his hand kept moving through it, riding you out, coaxing it longer, slower, deeper. Your breath hitched in your throat, your moans broken and raw, and Ben just held you, let you shake in his lap while he watched you completely fucking fall apart.

"That's it," he breathed, almost reverent. "That's what you fuckin' deserve."

You were still catching your breath, chest rising against his, thighs trembling around his lap, when he slid his arms around your back and under your thighs, and stood. You yelped—more out of surprise than anything else—your arms flying around his shoulders to cling to him as he rose with you cradled against his chest.

Ben just grinned.

"Jesus," he muttered, low and amused, "you weigh fuckin' nothin'."

Your cheeks flushed. "Ben—"

He adjusted you higher with a flex of his arms, one hand spreading across the bare curve of your back, the other under your legs, and started walking toward the kitchen like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like your bare chest wasn't pressed to his shirt, like your wet shorts weren't clinging to his soaked sweats, like you weren't still twitching from the orgasm he'd just pulled out of you with nothing but his fingers and a few choice insults about your ex... his son.

"I could keep you here forever," he murmured, voice close to your ear, just shy of reverent. "Right here. Right fuckin' here."

You whimpered.

Ben chuckled, pleased.

"Nah, don't start cryin' again yet," he said, kicking the fridge door open with his foot and grabbing a cold bottle of water from the shelf. "You need to hydrate first."

You blinked at him, head resting limply against his shoulder, and mumbled, "Hydrate?"

He looked down at you, raised an eyebrow, then grinned.

"I'm plannin' on dehydratin' the fuck outta you, sweetheart."

You let out a sound between a laugh and a moan, breathless and half-delirious, pressing your face to his neck to hide the way your whole body went hot all over again. He smelled like sweat and sex and his own damn ego, and you were pretty sure you were melting into him with every step.

Ben carried you out of the kitchen without so much as a stumble. Past the guest room. Your eyes fluttered open as he started up the stairs.

"Where're we—"

"My room," he said simply.

You swallowed.

It hit different. Not dirty. Not even shocking. It felt... final. And you liked it.

He carried you through the doorway and nudged it shut with his foot, crossing the room in a few heavy strides before sitting down on the edge of his bed—still holding you. Still wrapped around him like you belonged there.

You did.

He leaned back just slightly, adjusting you until your knees were bracketing his hips again, and handed you the bottle of water.

"Drink," he ordered, but it came out warm, like a grin was tucked in the word.

You obeyed without question, twisting the cap and taking a slow sip, your hand shaking just enough for him to notice. He watched you the entire time, eyes flicking between your lips and your throat as you swallowed.

"Good girl," he muttered, brushing a hand over your hip. "Need you hydrated if you're gonna keep screamin' for me like that."

You nearly choked.

Ben grinned, shameless, his hands resting easy on your thighs.

"That's right," he added, quieter this time. "You get comfortable. You're not leavin' this bed unless I carry you out again."

You whimpered.

He leaned in, mouth brushing your jaw, voice lower than before.

"And I'm not carryin' you anywhere for a while."

Ben didn't give you a chance to move.

Once the bottle was mostly empty and your breathing had steadied—just barely—he curled one arm around your waist, twisted at the hips, and eased you down into the pillows like you weighed less than his temper. The sheets were cool against your back, but the pillows?

They smelled like him.

Leather and smoke and sweat and something woodsy underneath—familiar and overwhelming and male. You sank into them like you were sinking into him, chest still bare, thighs still shaking.

Ben hovered over you for a moment, eyes dragging down your body, slow and greedy, until they stopped between your legs. At your soaked shorts.

He smirked. Then he met your eyes again, lazy and dangerous.

"Jamie ever eat you out?"

You choked on the last of your water. Actually choked. The bottle sloshed and your mouth snapped shut in panic as a splash of cold water spilled down your chin and throat. You coughed, sputtering, eyes wide as Ben let out a deep, amused laugh and leaned in with the hem of his shirt, wiping gently at your face.

"Jesus, sweetheart," he said, mouth curved like he was so damn pleased with himself. "I just asked a question."

You squeaked.

He dabbed the wet spot on your chest, then dragged his knuckles down your sternum like a man testing your heart rate.

"Well?" He asked, still grinning. "Did he?"

You stammered, half-horrified, half-falling apart. "I—I mean... yeah. Sometimes. But not really. He didn't... he didn't like it."

Ben went silent.

Then scoffed. Loudly. Dramatically. He rolled his eyes, muttered a string of curses, and then—like he couldn't believe what he was saying—shook his head and sat back onto his heels at the foot of the bed.

"Unfuckin'believable," he grumbled, hands already at your waistband. "Raised a goddamn pussy."

You blinked down at him, stunned.

"Who the fuck doesn't eat pussy? What the hell else is he doin' with his time?" He slipped his fingers beneath the band of your shorts, tugging slow as he went. "Christ on a damn cross. No wonder you were always walkin' around here all tense and twitchy."

You opened your mouth to speak, to say something, but he had already peeled your underwear down with your shorts and tossed them both to the floor like they'd offended him.

His eyes dropped to your centre. And stayed there.

Ben let out a low, feral-sounding hum, head tilting slightly as he just looked—slowly dragging his gaze up and down your folds, glossy with arousal, lips swollen, twitching under the air of the room.

"Fuck," he muttered, almost to himself. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen and the little shit didn't even touch it?"

He shook his head again, muttering, "Fuckin' criminal."

You stared at him. Breathless. Legs open. Shaking.

And he just kept going. As casual as someone picking a movie on a Friday night.

"God, you poor thing," he murmured, hands firm on your thighs now, spreading you wider as he settled between them, stretching out on the bed like this was something he did every morning. "No wonder you're so fuckin' needy."

"Ben—"

"I'm gonna fix that, baby," he said, voice lower now, rasp scraping the base of his throat. "Gonna make this sweet little cunt forget he ever existed."

He kissed the inside of one thigh. Then the other. Then, still staring up at you through his lashes like a goddamn animal ready to worship something he planned on ruining, he said:

"Real men eat pussy."

And lowered his mouth to yours.

Ben didn't ease into it. One second you were laid out beneath him, bare and trembling, thighs spread wide on his bed—and the next his mouth was on you, dragging hot and open over your folds like he'd been starving for it. Tongue heavy, lips soft, hungry.

You gasped—head falling back, hips jerking—

"Oh my God—Ben—"

He growled into your cunt like the sound of his name made him harder, the low rumble vibrating through your core, sending sparks up your spine. His hands came up to grip your thighs, spreading you even wider, thumbs digging into soft flesh like he was holding you open for the damn altar.

His tongue licked a slow, deliberate stripe through your folds before circling your clit—lazy at first, then more pointed. Focused. Like he already knew exactly what you needed.

You whimpered, squirming, your hand flying down to tangle in his hair.

He groaned—loud—like your taste was better than anything he'd ever had in his mouth.

"Fuck, baby," he muttered, voice muffled against you. "You taste like goddamn candy."

Your legs trembled. Your hips bucked up into his mouth and you tried—tried—to get words out.

"Ben—wait—Ben, you need to—"

He didn't. He did not wait. He just doubled down, sucking your clit between his lips like he owned it, one hand slipping under your thigh to tilt your hips just right while his tongue worked you with slow, devastating intent.

"F-fuck—Ben—please—"

You felt it rising—faster than it should've, already threatening to break. And with it came panic. Breathless, stuttering panic.

You writhed, trying to push at his shoulder.

"Ben—fuck—you need to put a towel or something down—"

He froze.

Not stopped—his mouth was still right there, warm breath ghosting over you—but he lifted his head just enough to look at you, brows drawn together, one eyebrow cocked like he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Why?" He asked, voice muffled by your pussy.

You went crimson.

Your hand flew up to your face, your body tensing in pure mortified horror as you mumbled through your fingers, "I—I'm a squirter."

Silence. You peeked through your fingers.

Ben's eyes darkened. Then he sat back slightly on his heels, both hands still on your thighs, and looked so deeply offended you almost started laughing.

"You're tellin' me..." He blinked. "You're sittin' here drippin' wet, legs spread, and about to fuckin' squirt—and Jamie didn't spend his goddamn life down here?"

You choked on your breath, half-laugh, half-moan.

Ben shook his head, dragging his hand down his face. "Christ almighty. I didn't raise a son—I raised a disappointment."

And then—he dove right back in.

You yelped, hips jolting as he devoured you this time, tongue moving faster, more focused, lips wrapping around your clit with obscene wet suction while his hands held you down like he was anchoring you in a storm.

You cried out, head thrashing against his pillows, the burn behind your eyes building and burning and rising.

"Go on," he growled between licks, fingers slipping inside and pressing just right. "Be a good girl. Make a fuckin' mess on my face. Show me what that pussy was meant to do."

Your whole body tensed, your back arching off the bed.

"Ben—Ben—fuck—"

"Do it," he hissed, licking deeper. "Come all over me. Ruin my fuckin' sheets."

And then—

You broke.

With a strangled cry and a full-body twitch, it hit. Your orgasm crashed through you like a wave breaking off a cliff, and your thighs shook as the flood let loose—gushing against his mouth, coating his lips, his chin, his beard, the sheets beneath you.

Ben didn't pull back. He groaned—actually groaned—and kept licking like he wanted every drop, dragging his tongue through the mess with a filthy, reverent sound you'd never forget for the rest of your life.

When he finally came up for air, his beard glistened, his eyes were black, and he looked—insatiable.

"Yeah," he panted, licking his lips. "That's mine now."

Ben crawled up your body like he owned it.

His beard scratched against your inner thigh on the way, still damp from your release, his breath hot as he moved—hands wide on the sheets, arms caging you in. His eyes were black with it, hair mussed, chest rising like he'd just run five miles uphill. You could still feel the wet cling of his mouth on your skin.

Then his lips caught yours.

And he kissed you.

Deep. Slow. Wrecked. Tongue heavy in your mouth, dragging across yours with a low, hungry groan that made your toes curl into the sheets.

"You got no idea what you've done to me," he muttered against your lips, voice wrecked. "I'm about to fuck your brain outta your head."

You whimpered.

He grinned—smug, feral—and reached down between you, hand wrapping around his cock, dragging the head through your folds. You weren't sure when he'd lost his sweats, but you were completely fine with it.

You gasped, twitching beneath him.

His eyes flicked up. "Jamie use a condom?"

You blinked. Flushed. Nodded. "Y-Yeah. Always."

Ben's brow ticked.

"Good."

You swallowed, breath catching. "I'm on birth control," you whispered. "And... clean."

He stilled. Lifted his head. Raised an eyebrow. "Doll," he said, tone dry as sin, "you askin' me for something?"

Your whole body flushed hot.

"I just—I mean, if you—"

He dragged the thick head of his cock through your folds again, slower this time. You whimpered, legs twitching.

"Uh-uh," he said. "Use your words."

Your breath hitched.

He slapped his cock against your clit—once, twice—and you gasped, eyes fluttering.

"C'mon, sweetheart," he rasped, voice wrecked and teasing all at once. "You want me to fuck you raw, you say it."

You looked up at him—wild-eyed, wrecked, trembling.

And whispered, "Please, Ben. I want you to fuck me raw."

He groaned—deep, guttural—and then without another word, he slammed into you.

You cried out—high and gasping, back arching off the bed as he bottomed out in one long, thick stroke. He filled you to the brim, stretched you open, held you there.

"Oh fuck," he muttered, head falling to your shoulder. "Jesus Christ—you're perfect."

You moaned, hands clawing at his arms, your body twitching around him.

"This pussy," he gasped, hips pulling back and slamming into you again, "this fuckin' pussy is mine now."

You couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Just gasps and broken moans and the stretch of him inside you, thick and hot and bare.

He rocked into you again. Then again.

"I should kick that little shit out," he growled, pace quickening. "Make this your room. My girl. My fuckin' house."

You moaned—loud, wrecked.

"You'd like that, huh?" He panted, lips brushing your jaw. "Move in with daddy. Let me keep you like this every night."

You clenched around him and he groaned, hips stuttering.

"Goddamn, baby," he hissed. "You've got the best fuckin' pussy I've ever been in—swear to fuckin' god—"

You cried out again as he hit deeper, harder.

"Can't believe he wasted this," Ben snarled, voice cracking. "Can't believe I waited this long. You're mine now. Say it."

"I'm yours," you gasped.

"Louder."

"I'm yours, Ben—I'm yours—"

"Damn right."

And he kept going. Fucking you deep. Bare. Like you were never leaving his bed again.

Ben was pounding into you now—hard, relentless, sweat slick between your bodies, the sound of skin on skin echoing through the room like applause for the filth you were making together. His cock dragged deep with every thrust, hitting that spot again and again until your legs were shaking, your vision going soft around the edges.

You were crying out—loud, unfiltered, whimpering his name like a prayer you didn't mean to say.

And then—

He tapped your ass. Just a light slap.

You whined. High-pitched. Shaky. Immediate. Ben froze for half a second. Then made a sound—somewhere between a moan and a growl—and grinned.

"Oh," he rasped, eyes lighting up like you'd just handed him a fucking gift. "Oh, baby. That's what you like?"

Before you could answer, he grabbed your leg and hiked it high around his waist, holding it there as he started slamming into you again—harder now, rougher, angling just right so every thrust shoved your spine deeper into the mattress.

And he spanked you. Hard.

You screamed.

"Fuckin' hell," Ben groaned, sweat dripping down his neck. "You gonna cry for me now? Gettin' your pussy stuffed and spanked at the same time? Poor little thing doesn't know what to do with herself."

You sobbed a moan, delirious, barely holding on.

He smacked your ass again. Then again.

"You take it so fuckin' well," he hissed, and then—like it was the most casual thing in the world—he dragged two fingers up your cheek, tapped at your lips.

You opened your mouth automatically. He spat in it. Wet. Hot. His. You moaned around it, eyes rolling back. Ben leaned in, grabbed your face, and kissed you like he was trying to drink his own spit from your tongue.

Then he flipped you.

One second you were under him, boneless and raw—and the next you were on your side, his chest to your back, his arm under your neck like a pillow, and his other hand over your mouth, two fingers pushing between your lips again.

"You keep suckin' on my fingers like that," he growled into your ear, "I'm gonna come just from the fuckin' view."

You moaned, muffled and broken, his cock spearing into you from behind with deep, punishing thrusts that made your whole body jolt with every snap of his hips. His hand on your mouth tightened slightly, fingers still in, palm hot against your cheek. He was everywhere. Inside you, behind you, around you.

"Your fuckin' pussy," he snarled, lips dragging down your neck, "I'm in love with it."

You whined—embarrassed, feral, soaked.

"I am," he went on, unbothered. "Fucked it once and I'm already thinkin' about movin' you in, never lettin' you leave this bed."

His thrusts got meaner—snapping up into you with bruising rhythm, every word laced in possessive madness.

"You're gonna make an old man believe in love again," he growled, "and that's your fuckin' fault."

You were trembling, stuffed full, drooling around his fingers, losing your mind.

He nuzzled the side of your face with something dark and reverent, and whispered, "This pussy's the only thing I believe in now, baby. You hear me?"

You moaned, nodding frantically.

He bit your shoulder. Then kissed it. Then fucked you harder. Ben was groaning into your ear, words tangled in breath and sweat and raw hunger.

"Such a good fuckin' girl," he panted. "Takin' it so good. Lettin' me ruin you like this."

You were gone. Mindless. Babbling—wet sounds pouring from your mouth as your thighs shook and your body writhed against the press of his chest to your back.

"I love it," you whimpered. "I love it—I love it, Ben—please don't stop—"

He chuckled—dark and obscene—like your incoherence was a reward.

"Yeah, you do," he growled. "Love gettin' split open by me, huh?"

You nodded, cried out, tried to say yes, but it came out as a slurred little sob of a sound.

He pulled out suddenly—your whole body twitching at the loss—and flipped you like you weighed nothing, dragging you on top of him, straddling his cock with shaky legs and blown out eyes.

"C'mon," he murmured. "Ride it, sweetheart."

You whimpered, trying—your hands on his chest, your hips rocking down—but you were too far gone. Your limbs weren't working right. Your thighs trembled and your arms buckled, and you nearly collapsed onto him with a breathless, desperate cry.

Ben just laughed.

"Aw, look at you," he cooed, cruel and sweet at once. "Fucked out already. Useless little thing."

He flipped you back again—hard this time, landing you flat on your back and slamming back into you in one brutal stroke that made you cry out.

"Don't worry, baby," he rasped, breath hot against your throat. "I'll get you ridin' me someday. Gonna train that pretty little pussy 'til you can take it on top like a fuckin' champ."

You sobbed—whiny, shaking, babbling more of his name like it was the only word you remembered how to say.

He groaned into your neck.

"Fuck—you keep clenchin' like that and I'm not gonna last."

You whimpered, nodded, legs wrapped around his waist tight enough to bruise.

"What?" He asked, grinning as he fucked into you deeper. "That little nod mean something?"

"I—I want it inside," you stammered. "Please, Ben—want you to come inside—"

Ben snapped. He buried himself to the hilt, chest pressed to yours, and growled so deep it shook your bones.

"You want me to knock you up, baby?"

You gasped, nodded again—fucked out, soaking wet, wrecked.

He dragged his mouth down your jaw, lips brushing your ear.

"Didn't have you pegged for that kinda girl," he rasped. "Want my fuckin' cum inside? Want me to fill you up and watch it leak outta you?"

You moaned—high and broken.

Ben rutted into you harder now, faster, one hand slipping between your legs to rub fast circles over your clit, making your whole body twitch and arch beneath him.

"God damn—you're gonna make me come," he snarled. "Gonna shoot it so deep you won't stop thinkin' about it."

"Please—Ben—please—"

"Maybe I should knock you up," he hissed, filthy and grinning. "Raise this one right."

You sobbed, body locking up—

And he came. Hard. Hot. Groaning into your throat as he fucked you through it, hips rolling slow and deep as he emptied every last drop inside you.

"Take it," he muttered, still thrusting. "Take all of it. So fuckin' good for me."

The room was hot with sex and sweat and the weight of everything you couldn't say yet. Your chest rose in ragged little gasps as you blinked up at the ceiling, vision hazy, muscles limp and twitching beneath the weight of Ben's body still draped over yours.

His breath ghosted against your collarbone, damp and heavy.

He was still inside you.

And you felt it when he finally, slowly, pulled back—soft and slow, like he couldn't bring himself to leave just yet. The drag of him made you whimper, slick and sensitive, your thighs twitching as the stretch faded and left only heat and a slow, sticky ache behind.

Then you felt it: a slow trickle of warmth slipping down between your legs.

Ben caught it. He reached between your thighs, dragged two thick fingers through the mess leaking out of you, and pushed it back in with a low, satisfied growl.

You gasped, whole body flinching.

He pressed a lazy kiss to your mouth, then pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, "That's a problem, sweetheart."

You blinked, dazed. "Wha—what is?"

He slid his hand up to your waist, palm splayed over your side.

"How bad I want it to stay in you."

You whimpered.

Ben chuckled.

"Don't worry," he whispered, dragging his mouth along your jaw, "I'll put more in later. We should get some rest."

You didn't respond. You couldn't. You were mush—soft and ruined and humming with overstimulation—and he knew it. He kissed you again anyway, slow and warm, nothing like the way he'd fucked you just minutes earlier.

Then he peeled himself off the bed, bare and golden in the lamplight, stretching like a man who'd just finished a workout.

"I'm gonna get us some water," he said, reaching for his sweats but not bothering to pull them on.

You nodded, lips swollen, barely breathing.

He started toward the door, and just as he reached it, he paused—one hand on the frame, head turned just slightly. A slow, wicked grin curved across his mouth.

"You know," he said, voice low and amused, "I should've fucked you in Jamie's bed."

You let out a horrified little squeak, dragging the pillow over your face with a muffled, "Ben!"

He laughed—deep and delighted.

"Next time."

And then he walked out, bare-assed and smug, disappearing down the hall like a man who had nothing to hide and everything to claim. You peeked out from under the pillow just in time to watch him go—broad back, muscled legs, that obscene swagger of his hips.

And all you could think—while his cum still dripped down your thighs and your body hummed with everything he'd done to you—was I'm fucked.

And you were. In every way.

You didn't know what woke you. Maybe it was the creak of the stairs. Maybe it was the sharp click of the front door locking, followed by the unmistakable shuffle of boots too light to be Ben's.

But the second it registered, your entire body went cold.

You were still tangled in the sheets—naked, used, filled to the brim with Ben's cum. His arm was slung low around your hips, his chest warm against your back, breaths slow and even against your neck.

You stiffened.

"Ben," you whispered, nudging his wrist. "Ben. Ben."

He groaned low in his throat, shifting behind you. "What?" He mumbled, voice wrecked and sleepy. "You want more already, greedy girl?"

Your face lit on fire. You smacked a hand over his mouth, hissing, "Jamie's home."

That woke him up.

Sort of.

His eyes cracked open just enough to register the situation, and he exhaled slow through his nose, dragging the sheets up with one arm and tucking them tight around you like he was shielding treasure.

"Then be quiet, sweetheart," he muttered, voice dry. "Daddy's got this."

You barely had time to sink beneath the covers, tucking yourself between his side and the mattress, heart slamming in your chest, before there was a soft knock on the door.

Then it opened.

"Hey, you up?" Jamie's voice. Light. Cautious.

Ben didn't move much—just cracked one eye, rubbed a hand over his face, and grunted, "Barely."

You could hear Jamie take a step into the room. The floorboard creaked near the end of the bed. You pressed your face to Ben's hip, barely breathing.

"Didn't mean to wake you," Jamie said. "Just came to grab some tools from the garage."

Ben snorted. "At 5 a.m.?"

There was a pause.

"Didn't sleep much," Jamie said, his voice tight.

Ben exhaled hard. Then: "You're a fuckin' braindead little prick, you know that?"

Jamie let out a tired little scoff. "Jesus, Dad."

Ben didn't move. Just let the silence stretch.

"You let a girl like her go," he said eventually. "Never understood how you pulled her in the first place."

You froze under the covers.

Jamie was quiet.

"She wasn't all that," he muttered.

Your breath hitched.

Ben went still. You felt it—his hand tightening ever so slightly on the sheets. But his voice stayed level.

"Right," he said. "Not all that."

There was another pause. Then the sound of Jamie shifting, maybe starting toward the door—but he stopped again.

"Why are there two water bottles?" He asked.

Ben didn't miss a beat. "Woke up thirsty," he grunted. "Had one, finished it. Got another."

Jamie didn't answer. You heard him hover for a second too long. And then—finally—the creak of him leaving. You didn't breathe until you heard the click of the front door again. Then you pushed the covers down and surfaced—face flushed, heart pounding.

Ben was grinning. Smug and half-awake, pillow creases on his cheek, hair a disaster, still glowing from the night before. He looked over at you and reached a hand out lazily to drag you back toward him.

"Next time you're suckin' my cock while he's in the next room," he murmured into your mouth, voice like gravel and smoke, "if you really wanna see me lose it."

You whimpered. Whined. Buried your face in his neck. He just chuckled—deep and low—and kissed the top of your head like a reward.

You were wrecked. Messy. Sticky. Still dripping. And absolutely, completely, irreversibly—

Fucked.

a/n: I'm not even sorry... this entire thing is just smut. Seriously, I warned y'all. This fic... I'm ovulating, okay? I have no other explanation for this. Love it though. Anyways, I really hope y'all like. I'm wrestling with a part three, but honestly? I kinda just love this as is. We'll see, it wouldn't take much convincing. LMAO. Let me know what you's think. All the love.

Ben/Soldier Boy taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @losers-clvb @lunaleah. @itshellfire @drakulana @sl33pylilbunny @suckitands33 @nevercameraready @0ccvltism @bittersweetfig @lyarr24 @podiumackles @spxideyver @tinas111 @ohgodimgoungtodie @cevansbaby-dove @paristheonewhoreads @winchestersbgirl @blossomingorchids @sacr1ficialang3l @kaz-2y5-spn @mochminnie <3

[xenaxena]

F o r g e t f u l 🎀 1 / 4

Your roommate has a dirty secret - you. The only problem is: you can't remember anything about that. And there might be even more problems when you realize just what kind of relationship you have with her.

a dominant woman X a submissive girl with a memory problem

WARNINGS: F!Reader-insert! NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Mistress/pet. Domme/sub. Memory loss. Manipulation. Gaslighting. Praise kink. Dubcon elements. Fingering. Sex toys. Object insertion. Bondage. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 5.5k

A/N: Remember: if these tags are not for you, you better turn back now! If you know my other stories, you may be used to my very explicit writing style, but this is still some of the darker stuff, somewhat. It's rough, but there is an actual wlw story buried beneath the depravity, I swear! And: THIS IS FICTION! Nobody got hurt in the making of this series. (By the way, the header is just for aesthetics, it's up to you to decide how Mistress looks like and obviously Reader looks however you want to insert her. I tried my best to keep her neutral.) Another note on the fandom tags: I write characters who could be anyone, so I thought about some kick-ass ladies who may fit the role here. I'm sorry this is not about your favorite character, but maybe it can still somewhat fit? Give it a try :)

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

You're staring at the pictures with your lips parted and trembling, your cheeks warm, a strange tingle in your nape. Your hands are shaking as you file through the prints. They look weirdly professional, good lighting, even better angles, the background is blurry while the focus lies directly on...

You.

It's you in those photographs, you in various positions, you in different outfits... or with nothing at all hiding your curves. Some pictures are just showing certain body parts, some angles you've never seen of yourself, some more flattering than others.

But whatever you see, you can't hide the fact that it arouses you. It's not the subject, you're usually quite self-conscious about taking nudes of yourself (even though you gotta admit that these look quite well made, so surreal that you feel almost proud of yourself), it's actually two things that make your core throb:

One: you are in clearly compromising positions, bent over with your legs spread wide, on your back, bound to the bed with cuffs around your wrists and ankles, or tied up with soft-looking rope in intricate patterns, your body composed in ways you haven't thought possible (or comfortable).

And two: you are always stuffed. There are various objects sticking out of both your cunt and your ass, sometimes there's even something in your mouth that's held open by a spider gag. It varies too, not all holes are occupied all the time, all at once, in some pictures it's just one and it's particularly stuffed and stretched (is that an eggplant?).

Your body reacts more and more as you flip through the thick printed paper. The worst thing about it all:

You can't remember a goddamn thing!

Shame and arousal course through you as you stare at yourself. But you can't put them down, can't stop. In this photo, you're wearing a black leather harness that accentuates your breasts. You're standing, with wide legs, a spreader bar attached to your ankles. You're blindfolded, your arms tied behind your back. It's a series of pictures, you realize.

First from the front, then from the back (your ass cheeks look great with how they're pushed up by the leather straps). You notice something shiny between them: a butt plug with a sparkly diamond base. It's glowing, or blinking as you see in the next picture where the light is gone.

Your insides convulse a little, your muscles clenching around nothing. It's like looking at porn, but you can't ignore the familiarity about the body portrayed. It is undoubtedly yours.

But then again: you've never had anything up your ass, not in your conscious state at least. But here (and in those other pics) you have, and the next print even shows a close-up of the plug in your ass. It's a strangely aesthetic photo considering the unflattering motif and angle, but it certainly does things to you. Though you can't be sure if the tension in your stomach comes from embarrassment, excitement or sheer terror at the revelation that somebody took these pictures of you – and you can't even remember it.

Swallowing hard, you pry your eyes from the prints, your hands still shaking, as you look around the room. Somebody can only be one person. Your gaze scrapes over the shelves around you, full of camera equipment, old-fashioned film containers next to a plastic box full of SD-cards, various lenses and other extras, and then the cameras themselves, three at least, behind glass doors, kept away, like the pictures you found in a large brown envelope hiding in a drawer.

You've been looking for some hair ties, an innocent search, knowing your roommate wouldn't mind, but now you feel as if you've stepped into a different world, uncovering secrets you should have never known about. Even if they are about you.

Taking a shuddering breath, you look back at the pictures in your hands, your cheeks positively aflame now as you trace the blurry lines of your body before the focus shifts to a close-up of your cunt, shiny and reddened, your clit swollen, with black clamps attached to your pussy lips, thin metal chains disappearing off to the sides, holding your folds open while something black and girthy vanishes into your body.

The next pictures show a white-gloved hand gripping the base of the dildo, and you flip quicker through the sheets to create the motion, seeing the toy going in and out of your cunt, guided by the anonymous hand, spreading your core, diving in to retreat with an extra layer of shine before disappearing again, and as you stare at the prints, you can almost feel it moving inside you, a faint memory as your muscles clench and unclench, your arousal building up before it drips into your underwear.

You are torn between being very horny upon seeing these pictures and utterly disturbed. If you could only remember these scenes, then it wouldn't be as bad. But you can't. There's nothing, only fog that slips through your mind's imaginary fingers as you try to catch it, as you try to make sense of this. You feel your heart beating faster while your eyes tear up from staring unblinkingly at the prints in your hands.

This can't be real. Confusion merges with betrayal, your belly feels tense, your heart clenches in rhythm with your walls, your throat closes up as the first tear spills from your lashes.

You let go of the pictures, watching them scatter over the desk and down to the floor, every angle of your body on display, every inch captured in embarrassing detail, your holes filled or gaping, your mouth gagged or stuffed or open, there's drool, there are tears, there's wetness glistening on your skin in almost every shot. Your eyes may be the scariest part staring up at you. They're either glazed over, unfocused, or rolled back and hooded, some bloodshot, some watery, and some look almost defiant, a moment captured in time where you seemingly fought back?

The ones where you're blindfolded are the least terrifying, those are the ones where you can dissociate, where you can imagine somebody else being tied to whatever surfaces there are, tables, benches, beds, chairs, artfully presented, where it's just a body, clad in sexy lingerie and high heels, or adorned with ropes, or in the moments after where the skin is dented by the intricate patterns left behind by the ties.

The close-ups are also getting to you. You've never seen your own cunt or ass up close like this, so again, it could be anyone's holes filled and spread and used by various objects. The sheer amount and variety of them is quite concerning. But it's the unconventional ones that make you shiver, that create that tension in your stomach. The cucumber pushed deep into your ass so only its thinner stalk or whatever its called pokes out. The wide eggplant parting your labia in an obscene fashion, its entire body stuffed into your cunt, creating a slight bulge in your lower stomach.

There's another stack of photos atop a large envelope (the whole drawer seems to be dedicated to just you), and your curiosity gets the better of you after all. It's a series of pictures showing different round objects pushed into your holes. From marbles to ping pong balls to actual tennis balls, they're all shown vanishing into either your ass or your cunt, pushed by a delicate finger clad in a white glove, one after the other, and you can only assume how many would actually fit. It's not a video, you can't be sure, but you can imagine whoever did this to you didn't stop at just one.

Indeed they didn't, as the next photo shows. Another set of hands, also wearing white gloves, is grabbing your ass cheeks and pulling them apart, making your sphincter wink at the camera, before, in the next shot, your hole is gaping, allowing a strange view inside, rosy flesh stuffed with white little balls (you can see at least three, but more are hinted at behind them). You feel a little sick looking at the rest of the series of pictures, where they come back out as your hole puckers, pushing and pushing.

Your body reacts in earnest, your muscles clenching around nothing, deep shivers crashing down your spine. You flip past more of these kinds of photos, until you stop when you see white-gloved fingers poking at your cunt, spreading your lips, gathering your slick that glistens on the surface of the latex gloves, and you let out an audible gasp when the next picture doesn't show them push in, but shows only a wrist (attached to a slender arm) poking out of your stretched hole, gripped by tight skin, suggesting the entire hand is stuck inside you.

Your stomach gives a nervous growl at the sight, your breath hitching in your throat. You swallow thickly, your nostrils flaring as you force yourself to breathe through your nose to calm yourself. The stack of pictures shakes in your hands as you flip through more extreme insertions, more vegetables, some fruits, an entire apple made it up your cunt apparently, while they went from using one cucumber in your ass to at least three, stretching your rim impossibly wide. The sight alone makes your asshole clench violently, and you wonder why you never felt sore after being stuffed so full and spread so wide.

But your body seemingly adjusted, returned to its former state, unharmed, giving no hints at what actually happened to you. Strange. It's almost as if this happened to somebody else after all. But it didn't. It is your body. You may not know your cunt or ass up close, but you recognize the rest, your boobs, your arms, your belly, your legs, your feet, the birthmarks that make you you. It is you in these pictures, in every single one.

Only you.

A strangled sob escapes you as you look over the desk, seeing more and more envelopes, hiding in plain sight, more prints, some smaller, some bigger, all filled with motifs of your body being used in various fashions, one more degrading than the next. Shame settles low in your stomach, like a heavy weight that makes it hard to breathe. Your head is spinning, blood rushing in your ears so loudly you are startled back into reality as you suddenly hear the creaking of the door.

Footsteps follow, before someone clears their throat.

You whip around, dropping the last pictures you were holding, more shots of your stuffed cunt, wet and glistening as it's assaulted by more household items. Your eyes widen when you see your roommate in the door frame, a smug smile on her beautiful face as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh hi,” she says in a nonchalant tone, tilting her head. “What are you doing here, pet?” she adds, and you frown at the nickname, a strange sensation crashing through your nerves.

“I... uh... I was looking for...” you stammer, taking a step away from the desk and the mess you made by dropping all those prints. “A hair tie,” you whisper breathlessly, curling your shaking hands into fists as you stare at her. “What... what are these? Did you take them?” you then ask, your voice trembling as much as your shoulders while you look from her back to the discriminating evidence you found by accident.

Your roommate sighs, unfolding her arms as she walks towards you. She's taller than you, slender and still curvy in the right places, her long hair falling over her slim shoulders. You force yourself to look into her eyes and not get distracted by the cleavage her tight dress creates or how close she is. She stops right in front of you, looking down, a softer looking smile curling her full lips.

“You know I did,” she says quietly, reaching up a hand to caress your cheek with the back of her finger. You shiver under the touch, but don't flinch away. “You agreed to this, remember?”

“No,” you breathe out, blinking quickly as you feel tears welling up in your eyes.

She clicks her tongue, shaking her head. “Shh, it's okay, pet, don't worry. You did. I would never do anything to harm you,” she whispers, leaning closer until you feel her hot breath on your lips. “You wanted to be my muse, you begged me for it,” she adds, biting her lip sensually before leaning in to press her warm mouth to the corner of yours.

You stiffen, eyes widening, your heart nearly exploding in your chest. You can't remember any of this. Why is she saying that? She is just your roommate!

You moved in only a few months ago, replying to an ad you saw on the bulletin board of your college dorm. A cheap room in a good neighborhood, your own room, away from the distractions of having to live with people you don't like or know that well, it sounded too good to be true. But it was true, and the woman looking for roommates was so nice, so enticing. You met her at a neutral place, to get to know her (fall for her charm), before she showed you the apartment, and you moved in later that week.

It was perfect. Until it wasn't. Not that you noticed it right away. You just never saw her. Now that you thought about it, you can only (barely) remember going to your classes (you are still going to your classes, right?), while the rest of the day is somewhat of a blur. You can't, however, remember going to your job at the coffee shop (do you still have a job? How are you paying for this place?), and the more you try to remember, the more holes come up, black and all-consuming.

You frown as you stare at her. She leans back slowly, watching you. Her hand is on your face, the pointy nail of her thump scraping over your bottom lip as her long fingers caress the shell of your ear.

“No need to worry, pet,” she says quietly, her voice a low soft thrum, rich like honey, that tickles something inside you that you've fought all your life. Why does she keep calling you 'pet'? And why does it affect you so much? “Everything is just fine. And I'm not even mad that you just went into my room like this. I told you you shouldn't, didn't I?”

You swallow as she lowers her hand and closes it around your throat, giving it a gentle squeeze. You feel your pulse throbbing against her palm. “I'm sorry,” you gasp out.

She smiles at you, moving her hand even lower, teasing her fingertips along the neckline of your shirt. “It's okay. You know the consequences. It'll be fine.” You furrow your eyebrows, breathing harder, not understanding anything. “Not the first time, hm?” she adds, giving you a wink. Her words make no sense, your head is hurting with how tight you pull your eyebrows together, and with all the thoughts and questions whirling about in a wild dance of confusion.

“I... I don't –”

“Shh,” she shushes you, her hand gripping your chin. You freeze. “Be a good pet and go back to your room. I'll clean this up. Put on the clothes I chose for you. Wait for me when you're done. Do you understand?”

You stare at her, your body tensing up, your cunt clenching hard around nothing. Her words, the cadence of her voice, the dominant tone, it all brings you to do one thing, your mind emptying as words spill from your trembling lips. “Yes, Mistress.”

You don't even know where these came from. Mistress? Pet? What is going on? But your body moves on auto-pilot, your mind swirling, still fighting the confusion, but also easing into a strange void, triggered by words you've heard before, or so it feels, commands you've answered many times in the past.

She lets go of your chin, giving you a warm smile, even though her eyes are dark and somewhat cold, and you nod, bow your head and shuffle out of the room, your legs trembling as you make your way back into your bedroom across the hall.

For a moment you're wondering how you got here, why you're here, but then your gaze falls onto a pile of clothes on your bed. You walk closer, picking up item after item. A short black skirt, pleated, barely long enough to not be considered a belt. A tight tank top, white and almost see-through. A set of fancy black underwear, a lace bra with an intricate flower pattern, a thong of similar design. There's also a pair of sheer black stockings, a garter belt and straps to attach each piece together.

Your stomach tenses at the sight. You've seen these pieces before, in the photos you shouldn't have seen. It's a blur how you put them on, your head spinning, your hands shaking, but you still somehow manage to dress in time before you hear footsteps on the floorboards outside your room. Your heart beats faster, your chest heaving, tight in the bra and top, straining, something cold crashing down your spine before it gathers hot and pulsing right between your legs.

Before the creaking of the door announces your roommate, you suddenly fall to your knees, your feet tucked under your rear, your hands automatically finding purchase in your lap, folded neatly as you stretch your back and square your shoulders, breathing deep as you train your eyes straight ahead, waiting for the door to open. You have no idea what made you assume this position, why it feels so familiar, so safe in a way.

Your roommate (your Mistress) enters your bedroom, her high heels thudding over the carpet as she walks up to you, tilting her head as she watches you closely. “Stand,” she says, and you do, your legs moving seemingly on their own. Once you stand, stiff with your arms pressed to your sides, chest pushed out, your neck straight, eyes wandering over the tall frame in front of you, she nods. “See? You haven't forgotten. Good girl,” she says, and the praise shoots through you like a pistol shot, straight into your clit, making it throb and ache, your heart beating in the same hurried rhythm.

She walks around you then, her long fingers brushing over your bare arms, around your shoulders, down your spine, until she gives your ass a soft slap, making you gasp quietly. She repeats the motion, but this time, she leaves her hand on your cheek for a moment, squeezing it, her fingernails digging into your soft skin. You stiffen, breathing a little harder.

“You're so beautiful,” she whispers as she leans into you, looming behind you, her breath ghosting your jaw. “My perfect little muse.”

You feel her lips brushing against the soft spot behind your ear, a hot kiss that makes you shiver, while her hand gropes your ass, fingertips teasing at the thin fabric of your thong tucked between your cheeks.

Suddenly she leans back, lets go of you, and you hear her walking a few steps before she stops, a deep sigh echoing through the room. You turn around slowly, unsure if you should, but when you do, you freeze as you watch her pick up the glass of water on your bedside table.

“Baby, I told you to drink more,” she says with a tilt of her head. “You always forget, hm? So busy, head always in the clouds...” She walks back to you, holding the glass in front of you, her eyes boring into yours as she waits for you to grab it. You do, your hands shaking. “Drink up, pretty girl. You know you need it.”

She's so caring, you think as you bring the water to your lips, holding her gaze, but as soon as you feel the cold liquid running down your tight throat, an image flickers before your eyes. Your roommate (Mistress) sitting on your bed, moving a clear glass straw in a stirring motion, swirling the water, making a faint sheen of powder disappear. You feel as if you've watched her do that many times. What is that? What did she put in here? Vitamins? Or something else?

But you can't even question it further, can't find the courage to ask, when you realize you've drank the whole thing, every drop of water (and whatever else was in there) now in your stomach. “Good girl,” she praises and smiles at you, before she takes the glass from your clammy fingers and puts it back on your bedside table. “Now let's get you ready for our big night out, yeah?”

You frown, another faint memory peeking through the fog in your head. It seems to be getting thicker now. Strange. But this image, you still see somewhat clearly before you. You had plans tonight, you remember now, you wanted to go out. Where? No idea. But you needed a hair tie. Yeah. That's why you went into your roommate's room in the first place. Some details are blurry (were you supposed to go out with her? Have you done that before? Why would you? You barely know the woman...), but somehow they don't matter anymore.

She steps back in front of you, her fingers vanishing in the cleavage of her dress before she pulls something from between her breasts. You blink in confusion as you recognize the shape. It's a metal butt plug. And she stored it between her boobs? Interesting.

“Open wide, pet,” she tells you, and without even questioning it, you part your lips and let your tongue roll out. She looks pleased as she puts the rounded object into your mouth. It's warm, and the taste triggers something else in you. Another familiar sensation. It's her, you know without knowing, her taste, sweet and a bit salty, exploding on your tongue, sinking deep, causing soft shivers to crash down your spine, something hot gathering low in your gut.

You've had your face on her chest before, huh? Must be. Your cheeks burn up badly, your breaths loud through your nose as you suckle on the butt plug between your lips, your eyes scanning the pretty face looking down at you. She keeps her fingers on the base, pushing the object in and out, and you find yourself licking around it, coating it in your saliva. Like you've done before. You think.

She watches you before she lets go of the plug and puts her palm over your mouth. “Keep it nice and warm for me, okay?” she says, leaning closer until her nose brushes against yours. You give a jerking nod, tightening your lips around the narrowest part of the plug while its body rests hard and heavy on your tongue. “Good.”

You feel saliva pooling in your mouth, and the urge to swallow becomes stronger. But you focus on the woman in front of you as she straightens up again, her hands on her hips. Her whole presence, her aura, has you in its grip, you feel, it's impossible to fight it, to protest, to do anything except the things she demands of you. All it takes is a look, a word, her voice driving through you like an electric current that controls your every limb.

And so you move when she tells you to turn around and bend over, and as you rest on your forearms on the edge of your bed, she nudges your legs apart and steps between them, her hands sliding under your skirt and pushing it up. You stiffen slightly, breathing harder, your heart thundering inside your chest, but you can't object, you don't want to. You just endure.

And a tiny part of you, through the fog in your head, lights up, a growing heat that creeps down your spine, tenses in your stomach, seeps lower until it gathers in your core, scorching, wet, and it's all you feel when she pushes your thong aside and moves her fingers along your slit, dipping gently between your puffy lips and into your slick, the loud squelching noise making your ears burn.

She prods at your entrance, teases your clit, but then she moves up again, and without warning or command or reassuring words pokes right against your puckered hole, and as you gasp around the plug in your mouth, flinching slightly, she stretches your rim and pushes into your ass, a slim finger, a pointy fingernail, digging against your tense muscles. In and out it goes until there are two fingers, then three, and it burns, the friction too much, like little daggers poking at your nerves.

“Come on, pet, relax,” she says from behind you, moving her fingers deeper, curling them, pushing and prodding against protesting muscles. “You've done this before. You're a pro at this, remember?”

Her words bring up the hazy memories of the pictures you saw, of the various items wedged into your tight ass, and some just don't make sense. Three cucumbers? Really? While it already feels like too much when she 'only' has three slim fingers inside you? How did you manage that? Your stomach gives a distant growl as drool slips past your tight lips and onto your bed.

“Fine, I'll lube you up this time,” she sighs and removes her fingers with a strangely wet pop. This time? She doesn't usually? It's almost as if you can remember the pain of the dry friction, but then why can you never remember any soreness afterwards? Confusion lingers on your mind as you hear her footsteps leaving the room.

You remain in your bent-over position, your hands clawing at the sheets as you suckle mindlessly on the metal plug in your mouth, trying to make sense of it all. You come to no conclusion whatsoever when she eventually returns, and you hear the squirt of some liquid before you can feel it. Large dollops of something cold pressing against your tight hole. You groan against the object between your lips as she pushes deeper, her fingers, slick and cold, sliding in and out again.

This time she stretches your hole by scissoring her fingers, knuckles digging into your tense muscles, and you hear another squirt and something cold lands on your hot skin, slipping right into you. You shiver, goosebumps breaking out on your exposed skin. She keeps doing that, filling you up with more and more lube, you assume, her fingers pushing it deep, coating your insides. It's a strange sensation, but again, this feels somewhat familiar, and triggers more memories you seem to have suppressed before, or forgotten.

You see yourself strapped to a reclining chair, your legs raised up in some sort of stirrups, ankles tied and wrists bound to the armrests. You're naked, and she is kneeling between your wide open legs in front of a large plastic bucket or something like it, and there's a tube inside your ass, something cold (water?) pressing through it and into you, and you see and feel it filling you up, your stomach bulging, and you feel sick, your insides cramping, but you can't say anything, there's a gag in your mouth, so all you can do is squirm in your restraints, until you feel a different sort of pain as she slaps your mound with a force that makes you cry out, makes you flinch remembering it, and she keeps at it, hitting your clit with precise blows until it's all puffy and throbbing badly, and you throw your head back and whine helplessly, your belly still bulging, filling up, while her voice coos into your ear:

“You want to be clean, pet, don't you? So we gotta clean you up properly. You don't want to be dirty for our guests, now do you?”

You frown deeply as those words echo in your cloudy head. Guests? But the question vanishes slowly, replaced by the sensation of her fingers digging deep into your ass, spreading more lube, and in the back of your mind you're just glad she isn't giving you another enema. A strange thought to have, but it makes sense in the dizziness that holds you hostage. Breathing harder, you press your forehead into the bed, swallowing hard around the plug in your mouth.

As she works on (in) your ass, you start to feel a tingle in your neglected pussy, a spasm deep within, a little clench, a needy little urge, and instead of holding still, you find yourself grinding your rear into her hand. She stops immediately, a deep sigh escaping her as she pulls her fingers out of your ass and grips your nape with her wet hand. You shiver and stiffen, holding your breath as she pulls you into a standing position.

Her free hand grabs the base of the plug and pulls it out of your mouth where it clangs against your teeth, causing you to flinch. You swallow the excess spit and take a shuddering breath as you feel the warm metal pressing between your ass cheeks. With how she worked you open, it slips in easily enough, and your muscles clench slightly around its narrow neck, but it's only after she smacks your soft cheek a few times in rapid succession, making you whine and shudder as your skin tightens, that you're tensing up enough to hold it in place.

She lets go of you and spins you around, then holds out her hand to you, her fingers glistening in lube and your own wetness. “Clean,” she says, and even though your stomach makes a loud grumble of protest, you find yourself leaning in and closing your lips around her slim fingers. A strange taste of artificial strawberry and something else, something tangy and your own, floods your senses, but you close your eyes and flick your tongue around her digits, focusing on the task and not on the taste and the origin of it.

Eventually she pulls her hand away and pats your cheek, leaving a trail of saliva on your warm skin. Your eyes flutter open as she leans around you and adjusts your thong, pulling it back in place, then pushes your skirt down again. Her eyes meet yours, the gaze intense, creating another soothing wave of heat that rolls over you gently, that makes you clench around the plug in your butt. A smile grazes her full lips, and you find yourself smiling back.

“Alright, now put your hair up, get your shoes and your coat, and wait by the front door,” she tells you as she steps away, holding your gaze until you nod obediently. Your mind is reeling at this point, confusion and arousal warring inside of you. What is happening?

You don't know, and you don't seem to care too much either as you start moving, following her orders. You end up on your knees again, right by the door, waiting like a dog, and the image couldn't have been more fitting when you see her approaching with a strange leather band in her hands. You blink when she crouches down before you and fixes what you can only assume is a collar around your neck. It sits tight enough to notice it, but you can still breathe freely and swallow against it without it restricting you in any way.

You're still confused why you need this (and why you accept it so easily). Your roommate (Mistress) cups your face and looks at you with a warm gaze that makes you bite your lip, her hands rubbing over your cheeks before she tugs her thumbs under your chin and lifts it so she can lean in and press her lips to yours. Your eyes flutter shut as you part your lips and meet her tongue, the kiss deep and soft, gentle gliding of tongues and lips, a warm gesture, sending sparks through your nerves that make you throb with a need that feels both familiar and eerily unknown, frightening.

A single thought ricochets through your empty head: You would do anything for this woman.

“My beautiful pet,” she whispers against your tingling lips, the tip of her tongue tracing the corner of your mouth. “Are you ready?”

Without thinking, without wondering what for, you nod eagerly, a breathless “Yes, Mistress.” leaving your swollen lips. She gives you another peck and stands up then, snapping her fingers in a way that leaves no room for interpretation. You stand immediately, swaying slightly on the high heels you were told to wear. You're still smaller than her, but having to look up only amplifies the sensation coursing through you. Your devotion for her.

She grabs a large bag and shoves it into your hands, and you know by the weight and feel of it, that it holds camera equipment. A distant memory shimmers behind your glassy eyes, of stumbling into her room, finding those envelopes in the drawer of her desk, of flipping through countless pictures of your naked body, of your holes being stuffed and stretched, of being tied down, of letting her do with you whatever she wants. What has disturbed you earlier is barely worth a flinch now.

It's what you do. It's what you are. Her muse. Her pet. She chose you and you obey. It's what you do, it's what she does. She's your Mistress, after all.

1 🎀 2 🎀 3 🎀 4

End notes: Yes, our dominant lady here is indeed inspired by a character from my other (m/f) Dom/sub story: Infatuated: Mistress.

By the way, a little disclaimer at the end here as we go to the next (heavier) chapters: I am not a BDSM professional or expert, I am a writer with a dirty mind and access to the Internet. This is fiction, gaslighting people is bad, consent is very important, but when a hot lady tells you to do something, you gotta do it, that's the law (jk). Please see this as what it is: a fantasy and nothing more.

Thank you for reading! Next chapter on Saturday!

MASTERLIST // AO3 // ORIGINAL WORKS

[xenaxena]

nightcap ; oliver queen

synopsis: oliver queen wasn’t known for letting loose, so when the opportunity presented itself, you knew you had to seize the moment.

cw: nsfw (18+) / casual hookups / mentions of alcohol / somno / kissing / finger sucking / ollie fucking you to sleep / dirty dancing / fem!reader / not proofread sry wc: 624 love note: oliver queen has been on my mind lately

Oliver Queen was all over you, the feel of his fingers brushing against your skin was overwhelming, and the feel of his lips on your ear as he danced behind you had you leaning back into him. The bump of music sent vibrations throughout the club, sweaty bodies dancing against each other. In one hand, Oliver sported a glass of whiskey on the rocks while his other hand brushed against your hips, pulling you against him as you danced.

It wasn’t often that you and Oliver went out together, but he had poked and prodded at you until you agreed. Have a little fun with me, he would tell you. Don’t be so uptight, he would tease. Which was ironic, considering he was one of the most uptight people you had ever met. So if Oliver was suggesting something for fun, even if you weren’t in the mood to do it, you just had to give in.

You could feel his breath against your ear, his lips just grazing over the cartilage. The music in this club was loud, and Ollie’s friends were absolutely hammered— apart from you. Oliver wasn’t the biggest drinker, apart from fancy champagne and red wine imports, it wasn’t often that he was indulging. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Ollie whispered in your ear, connecting his lips with your temple. Feeling his halfie pressed against your lower back, you let out a soft sigh. The hook ups between you and Oliver were casual, but didn’t happen often, and when they did happen, they had you reeling for months.

Dizzy-headed and a deep thrill of lust running through you, you didn’t question the advance. That’s how you ended up in Oliver’s bed once again. Head pressed against his silk pillow sheets, pulsating around Oliver’s cock.

“That’s it, atta girl,” Oliver told you, fitted in between your legs. The smell of whiskey still lingering on his breath as he leaned in closer to press your lips together. Open mouthed and polite, he kissed you with a slow pace. Your lips moved with his, connecting and disconnecting with each turn of your head. Slowly, the kiss turned more intense, lips crashing and colliding until Ollie’s tongue found its way in your mouth.

“I’m so tired, Ollie,” you pulled away from the kiss to tell him through breathless pants. The feeling of his dick curling inside of you and hitting that sensitive spot over and over again caused you to grasp his bicep, digging your nails into the delicate flesh. You had already finished twice, once by direct clitoral stimulation, and once by Oliver hitting that special spot at a leisurely pace. Somehow, Oliver was still going at it. Every time you thought he was close to his brink, he would fall short, like he was holding out to make the feeling last forever.

“I know,” Oliver whispered, using one hand to pull you over and flip the position. He was now directly behind you, acting as the big spoon while his dick was still inside of you. With one arm slung over your body, he pushed himself into you, the pace still steady. “Go ahead and sleep, honey. I know you’re a side sleeper.”

You whined, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as this new position allowed him deeper inside of you. His cock brushing against your cervix, the feeling of being so full almost sending you over the edge once more. “Can’t. Feels too good.”

“Shh,” Oliver shushed you, bringing his fingers to your mouth and gently pushing his middle finger in. With your tongue working around his finger, sucking on the digit gently, Oliver softly grunted in your ear.

With eyes fluttering closed, you basked in the feeling of Oliver fucking you to sleep.

[xenaxena]

HOTEL ROOM | SOLDIER BOY x READER

"babysitting" a nearing hundred year old supe wasn't your ideal day, nor was it ever on your bucket list. but, maybe it'll be worthwhile.

word count: 7k

WARNINGS/DISCLAIMERS: (18+ only!) fem!reader, slight slow burn but very much worth it, porn w/ somewhat much plot & angst/fluff, praise/degrading, use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, etc), drugs i.e. snorting shit (oops, but what else did u expect w/ him..), handjob, piv, unprotected gradual rough sex, tiny bit of hair pulling, coming inside, i thinkk that might be it? happy ending :p another disclaimer: soldier boy's def much softer/vulnerable here cus i feel like reader can change him :) (i'm delusional) :) hope u enjoy! <33

ao3 link! | my masterlist

it’s not like you wanted to babysit. 

and by babysit, i mean watching a 100 year old supe that was still very much alive and well. did i also mention that he was an asshole?

probably not, but you should know that too.

“butcher! no fucking way, there's no fucking way i’m doing this shit!”

you whispered loudly in the british man’s face, trying to make sure that supe couldn’t hear you. but, god, what could that man not do?

butcher rolled his eyes at you, that constant, smug smirk plastered on his face as he shook his head. “oh, c’mon love. you’ll be fine. all he’ll do is watch the telly, snort some shit, and talk ya’ ear off,” he laughed as he stared at your annoyed expression, “i need you here, anyway. can’t have anything happen to you, you got that?”

you turned away from him for a moment, crossing your arms and glancing at the infamous man sat on the hotel bed. you bit the inside of your cheek, sighing out as your head hung low, staring at the floor. for once, you just wanted butcher to take you seriously. to bring you along for the important shit, not this.

but, what else could you do?

you moved to face him again, letting out a noise of disapproval, but your words showing otherwise. “fine, fine, okay. just this one fucking time, okay? you owe me.” you spoke loudly now, your irritation extremely evident.

“oh, come on, doll. am i really that bad?”

soldier boy’s ben’s voice made you flinch; his booming voice sending a rush throughout your body. one part of you was afraid, and the other annoyed. you whipped your head to look at him, his large frame stood in front of you now. he was more than just large; he was powerful.. intimidating. and you’d be lying to yourself if he wasn’t at least a.. little attractive to you. but, you couldn’t let that affect you.

he also had an unbearable ego that practically everyone around him could sense, his arrogant smile directed towards you nearly making your blood boil. 

“considering how much of a conceited asshole you are, i’d say yes,” you bit back at him, returning a condescending grin in response.

ben whistled then, his smile never faltering as he took in your powerful presence and words. “phew! she’s a feisty one, yeah? she yours or is she for the taking?” he teased butcher as a low laugh erupted from him, making you groan. to your surprise, though, his question sounded genuine.

“oh, fuck you! i’m not anyone’s!” you let out, tightening your crossed arms as your eyes moved to butcher. he all but laughed, pursing his lips as he shook his head at ben, pausing for a moment. “oi, play nice you two. can’t be coming back to this room in shambles..” his eyes flickered between you and ben, licking his lips, “but, to answer your question; no, she ain’t, but good luck tryin’, mate. i tried it myself.”

you punched butcher’s shoulder at that, scoffing. “don’t encourage him, you asshole.”

butcher laughed, raising his hands in surrender and giving you an almost apologetic look as he backed up, starting to walk towards the hotel room door. “alright, bye now, love. and you–” he pointed towards ben, his face hardening for a second, “behave, will ya?”

you watched him open the door, shutting it behind him as dread filled your every being. you turned to ben again, his eyes already fixed on you with that same smirk.

“oh yeah, i’ll definitely behave.”

only a few hours in, and you already feel like you’re going insane.

a ton of snarky remarks and about a million snorts of cocaine later, you’re just fighting the throbbing headache that’s building up. hell, anyone would feel the same in your position.

ben was sitting at the small table, you at the end of the bed right next to it, surrounded by fast food and pills. using the end of his knife, he was crushing the small tablets on the table, turning them into fine, white powder. it made you cringe, to say the least.

you watched him as he lined it up, sliding his nose through it eagerly as he sniffed, snorting the line completely. he let out a groan of satisfaction, the white powder stuck on his skin as the high he so desperately craved filled his body.

you let out a quiet chuckle to yourself, shaking your head. for one of the greatest supes in the history of mankind, he was certainly a treasure.

not.

“what are you laughin’ at, huh?” ben looks at you, his face firm as he poses the question. your lips flip, pursing, then frowning slightly as you shake your head. “oh, nothing, nothing. you just.. love that shit, don’t you?” you accuse, a small chuckle escaping your lips again.

his face shifts, a faint smile presented. “what? you want some, is that it?”

“oh no, god no. don’t want any coke of yours, no thank you.” you turn him down instantly, almost as if you couldn’t dream of it.

he laughs now, the deep gravel in it making you shudder slightly. “s’not cocaine, sweetheart. something like it, yeah, but not coke,” he informs you, watching intently as you return your attention to him, interest piquing. you didn’t know much about these kinds of drugs, surprisingly enough considering the people you surrounded yourself with, but you weren’t completely innocent.

he takes notice of your sudden curiosity; your eyes widening just a tad bit more than usual. the way your body language shifts. he notices it all.

cocking his head slightly, he lets out a small chuckle again. “you ever done drugs before, sweetheart?” he asks sincerely, wanting to know. you deny, shaking your head, “no, i mean– i’ve smoked weed maybe once, but i don’t know– never had a reason to do it again, i guess.”

he raises an eyebrow at that, leaning back against the chair he was sat in and crosses his arms. “that so? i’m shocked,” he hums, biting the inside of his cheek at he stares at you, “powerhouse like you, i woulda’ expected you to do allll that crazy shit.”

you snort, looking at him in disbelief. “you got the wrong idea of me then, soldier boy.” you tell him, emphasizing his name. boost his ego a bit more for the fun of it, y’know?

he snickers, staring at you as if you were some puzzle he needed to solve. “do i?” he pushes, leaning a bit forward, “i don’t think i do.”

you roll your eyes at him. “and why’s that?” 

he breathes out, grinning even wider. “sweetheart, you’ve got it written all over you.”

your eyebrows furrow at him, confused. the fuck did he mean by that?

before you could question him, he beats you to it, laying it on you.

“i mean, your attitude with butcher earlier? i don’t know about you, but that don’t sound like someone who takes shit.” he scoffs, his eyes locked on you as he pauses.

“...and you’re not taking any of mine, are you?”

you breathe out through your nose, licking your drying lips and taking in his words. “no, no i guess i’m not,” you admit, appreciating the slight bit of generosity from him, “but, what’s that gotta do with me and your drugs?” you laugh, unable to connect the two.

ben shakes his head, uncrossing his arms and moving his forearm on top of the table, leaning on it. “you’re a curious one, aren’t you? that’s why you didn’t wanna stay with me, right? y’wanted to go out there, save the fuckin’ world, huh?” he inquires, giving you the perfect opportunity to tease him instead of taking him seriously.

“well, no. i actually didn’t wanna stay with you because you’re an–”

“stop being a fuckin’ nag and answer the question.”

his voice booms in your ears, the direct intimidation from him working on you like a charm. you swallow, eyes shifting to look at the table for a moment before returning to him. 

“fine, whatever, i guess you’re right, yeah, i’m.. curious. but, fuck..” you lick your bottom lip, shaking your head as you stare out in front of you, “you try being part of this shit for years, and not being given any opportunity to..” you trail off, huffing.

“to be a hero?” ben questions.

you turn to him now, sad eyes staring into his own. “to be a hero.”

he shakes his head, wiping his mouth and nose as he inhales sharply. “you don’t want that life, kid. trust me.”

your jaw falls open a bit at him, your voice rising, “what the hell do you know about what i want? you don’t know me.”

he huffs, his hand pressing into his knee as leverage as his body leans in towards you, scoffing.

“the fuck did i go through? huh? i was asleep for decades, sweetheart. much before that, i was tortured and experimented on and treated like a piece of fucking meat. an animal.” you stare at him sadly, your demeanor falling as he looks at you with hardened eyes.

“being a fuckin’ hero..” he shakes his head, laughing as his head lowers to look down at his lap, “look where the fuck that got me.” he mutters out, his upper lip twitching as he breathes heavily.

silence fills the room between you two as the faint background noise from the television whirs. you didn’t know what to say. you just knew that maybe.. you were wrong about soldier boy– ben.

he was avoiding your gaze, his chest rising and falling in an attempt to calm himself down. you swallow, pursing your lips. “ben.. i’m sorry you went through that, i really am,” you began, causing him to lift his head at you, “but.. that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve helped people. you’ve saved people. and, yeah, maybe sometimes you weren’t the good guy, but.. you’ve done more than what a lot of people would.”

he looks at you with doe eyes, taking in your little speech. he nods, and it’s almost as if he can’t possibly believe you, but he does. he decides to trust you as your words give him the slightest bit of hope in his heart. an emotion he hasn’t felt all these years.

he sniffs suddenly, clearing his throat and shaking his head as if he were shaking himself out of it. “yeah, well, maybe you’re right. still wouldn’t want yo–” he pauses, cutting himself off, “uh, y’know, going through that.”

you give him a small smile, understanding him completely. it was hard for him to be vulnerable; you knew that now. but, you appreciated his efforts nonetheless. it made you see him.. differently. the way he spoke to you about his experiences.. you wondered if there truly was a good man underneath that harsh persona.

“well, thank you.. soldier boy.”

“oh, stop with that shit. ben.”

you smile. “ben.”

“alright, love. m’ sorry, i promise i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

you groan into the phone held against your ear, picking up the words of the same british man on the other end of the line. god, i’m never letting him off the hook, you thought to yourself. 

“okay, yeah, whatever.”

“don’t stay mad at me–”

you cut him off, “bye, butcher.”

“bye, love.”

you hear him end the phone call, the sound making you throw your phone down on the bed irritatedly. “the fuck happened?” ben asks you as he sits up on the bed, putting the remote down from surfing through channels with you for hours now. it was nighttime before you knew it, and you spent most of the day talking to ben here and there, as well as watching random shows and movies. certain topics were definitely touchy, but you were starting to get to know him more, and him with you.

you huff, walking over to the empty side of the bed to sit down next to him, crossing your arms. “we gotta stay here for the night. butcher n’ hughie are being held up with some.. shit, and don’t want us leaving without them.”

he lets out a chuckle towards your frustration. “don’t see a problem with that.”

you roll your eyes, turning to face him. “of course you don’t, you’re like– a million years old. i’m bored!” you whine, groaning. you don’t mean to act immature or fussy, but fuck, you were younger than him and needed other kinds of entertainment to survive (dramatically put). shitty television just wasn’t doing it for you.

he scoffs, “oh, fuck you. i can be plenty of fun, doll.”

“oh, yeah? prove it.” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

he smirks at you then, leaning in a bit closer as his face grows snarky. “you want me to show you fun?” he teases.

you groan, grimacing, “ugh, grossss..” you draw out, swallowing sharply as you turn away.

what you didn’t want to do was recognize the butterflies you felt at the thought. or the way your heart skipped a beat at him growing closer towards you. fuck, no.

he snickers, eyes still fixed on you completely. “oh, c’mon, honey. y’know i’m a great fuck. n’ besides.. it’s been awhile..” he teases you further, and he makes it sound so sleazy that it feels like a joke; fuck, maybe he really was just trying to rile you up.

you shake your head though, playing along. “nice try, ben. gonna have to try harder than that, though.” you stand your ground, giving him a faux smile.

he raises his hands in surrender, shrugging his shoulders. “hey, i’ll fuckin’ work for it, baby, i’ll tell you that much.” he admits, grinning at you.

you try your hardest to keep your composure, fighting the heat growing in your face, especially with that new nickname he gives you. a weak spot.

fuck. this was gonna be much harder than you thought.

you’re finishing the leftover fries that ben requested earlier, snagging them from his side as you laid next to him on the bed; cold and soggy, and definitely not appetizing, but you’re working with what you’ve got. you feel the bed shift before looking up at ben, his eyes on you as he moves.

“so, other ideas of fun..” ben trails, standing up from the bed and walking towards the table.

“i’m listening..” you curiously give in.

he grabs his knife, pouring out the remainder of his pills, and starts to crush them, noticing the way his eyes look up at you, eyebrows raised.

“you do a line with me. just one–” he suggests, his attention focused to see how you’ll react. “and you can loosen up for fuckin’ once.”

you grimace at his suggestion, denying him immediately. “no, ben, i don’t.. i don’t know. this isn’t my kind of thing, you know that..” you speak, evidently unsure of the act. come on, snorting some random, crushed up pills? didn’t sound like much fun to you.

he puts the knife down, turning his entire body to fully face you now. “hey, you said you were curious, didn’t you?” he raises an eyebrow, “doesn’t hurt to try it once. besides.. you can trust me, can’t you?” he teases, a sly smile on his face.

you huff, “yeah, sure. sure i can.” you joke at him, sarcasm filling your voice entirely. your face drops though, seriously contemplating his inquiry. “okay, seriously, though. it won’t fuck me up.. completely, right?”

he laughs at your question, his low voice rumbling. “not unless you take more than you can handle, baby.” he tells you, starting to crush the pills again. “i’m right here, though. i’ll getcha’ through it. promise.”

you were shocked at how.. kind he was being with you. how utterly careful he was with you now. it was odd, to say the least. but, you liked this side of him. maybe that’s why you were starting to feel so comfortable with him now.

you think about it for a few seconds longer before ultimately coming to a decision. “i.. okay, okay. just once.” you agree, nervously standing up from the bed and approaching the table, pulling up another chair to sit next to him.

fuck it. what else did you have to lose?

sitting down, you watch carefully as he proceeds to crush up the pills, examining how fine the powder turned. ben uses the knife to separate it, forming some of it into a line that was a bit shorter than what you saw him repeatedly snort earlier. 

was he making sure he wasn’t giving you too much? maybe. you didn’t want to think of it too much.. his intentions. you couldn’t. 

you swallow tensely, eyes flickering from the table to his face as he finishes, his own setting themselves on you. he gives you a small smile; an almost encouraging kind, providing you with a bit of comfort.

he raises an eyebrow at you. “you ready?”

“uh,” you stammer out, biting your bottom lip, “what exactly.. is it, though? i mean, what’s it gonna do to me?” you ask warily, second thoughts arising in your head.

he sighs out as he attempts to think of what to say. “these here are bennies, as we call em’. or, well– what i call em’,” he lets out a small laugh, cocking his head, “they’re amphetamines. they’ll just.. give ya’ a bit more energy.. that euphoria people talk about,” he explains to you as thoroughly as he can, “shouldn’t last too long, n’ if anything, you can try to sleep it off, sweetheart. no harm, no foul.”

he watches your face as you absorb his answer, noticing your features relax with each second that passes. he grins even more, listening to you.

“okay.. okay, doesn’t sound.. too bad. let’s do it,” you quickly spur out, shaking yourself out of it. “fuck it.”

“atta girl.” he gleames, his hand lifting to rub your upper back gently for just a moment; a moment long enough to send chills down your spine. the first time he’s really made any physical contact with you, and you’re already a mess. 

fuck, why did that feel good? why did that sound good? it was a harmless gesture.

you need that high, and you need it now. maybe that was the only way you could get through this long ass night with him.

“okay. do i just.. sniff it, uh?” you ask him, letting out an embarrassed laugh as your lips turn upwards. he nods, his own lips curling. “don’t overthink it. you’ve seen me do it a hundred times now,” he tells you confidently, muttering out the last words, “y’know what to do, honey.”

you just nod, leaning your head forward and slowly putting your nose against the right side of the line. before you can allow yourself to back out, you slide your nose towards the left, snorting it completely. you lift your head up, an abrupt cough escaping your throat as your nose burns, your eyes rolling back before shutting tightly.

“oh, there you fucking go. there you go, baby, there you go..” ben softly praises you, his words almost echoing in your ears as your head thumps. his hand returns back to your skin as he rubs your back in circular motions, your breathing growing heavy as you feel the drug enter your system.

“oh, fuck, ben, what the fuck!” you let out, a laugh escaping your throat as your head grows hazy. you turn to him, his hand still rubbing your back, which was definitely helping, and you grin widely. “that was fucking crazy!” you all but yell, excitement getting the best of you. what a way to show your experience, huh?

he chuckles, shaking his head as he stares at you. “alright, don’t get ahead of yourself, peaches. barely gave you half of what i’d normally do,” ben tells you, teeth bare as his smile widens, “that’s enough shit for you, little lady. can’t be too much of a bad influence on ya’, can i? butcher would rip me a new one.. or he’d try, at least.”

you giggle at that, your composure slowly, but surely, fading. “oh ben, aren’t you supposed to be a big n’ bad supe?” you breathe out, “he’s just a man.. and you’re a.. superhero.. y’wouldn’t let him..” you murmur out, eyes dazed out as you look at the man in front of you. his scruffy beard.. his messy hair.. the details in his skin.. fuck.

was he always this pretty?

you giggle again, his hand slowly lowering to the midst of your back to rest there. he chuckles lowly; an action that makes your breath hitch. “oh, sweetheart.. you’re feeling it already, aren’t you? quicker than i thought..” he trails off, cocking his head, “you think i’m some big, bad supe? s’that it?” he teases, lips curling up as he breathes you in, inching just a tad bit closer. “think i wouldn’t let him get one in?” he whispers.

you shake your head, smile dropping as your face hardens. “no, no, i wouldn’t, nuh uh,” you deny, biting your lip as energy suddenly surges through you, your filter entirely out the window. “i’ve seen you, you know? i mean, who hasn’t? videos of.. the way you fight.. you’re strong..” you mutter, swallowing as you giggle again, “so strong.”

he laughs, his index and middle finger connecting to rub subtle circles on your skin, “have you now?” he asks almost matter-of-factly, “you did research on me, baby?”

your stomach drops a bit, butterflies storming your stomach at the nickname again. you stammer out, “no, no, not research– i mean– yeah, i.. searched you up, but i jus’ wanted to see who you were before i.. came here, but.. s’not like i.. put that much thought into it, i–” you spit out, an involuntary laugh erupting from you as your cheeks heat up from your confession. a lie that escapes straight through your teeth.

oh god. why the fuck were you saying all of this shit outloud? stop!

he shrugs, a sly frown swift on his lips. “don’t gotta make a fuss about it, honey. s’cute. real sweet of you..” he grins, the hand so glued onto your back sliding down sleekly, fingers gripping onto your hip now. you gasp softly at the sudden touch, his grasp on you pulling you just a bit closer to him. your chairs are right next to each other, hips nearly joined together now. he whispers out, his mouth close enough to catch your ear, “sweet girl like you.. i’m honored you think of me that way. wouldn’t have suspected it from how feisty you were earlier.”

you roll your eyes at him, avoiding the flutter in your core as the drug builds up inside of you, fighting it. “oh, come on. you probably used to get this shit all of the time.”

he breathes out, shaking his head. “not from people i want it from..” his jaw falls open as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, murmuring, “..not from you.”

your breath hitches in your throat, turning your head to look at him as your cheeks flush. you gulp, heartbeat quickening as you notice his gaze entirely locked on you. he was being serious. this wasn’t some kind of sick game of his.

you remain quiet, unsure how to respond. too nervous, too dazed to come up with some snarky remark you usually would; that you should bite back with. but, you don’t.

instead, ben’s fingers dance on your hip subtly, his other hand lifting up to caress your face; his thumb gliding against your cheek, trailing down to your bottom lip as his gaze that was once on your eyes fixes onto your mouth.. gorgeous as ever.

his thumb catches itself on your lip, pulling it down gently as he hums, satisfied. you gulp, shaking your head gently as you process what this was leading up to.

“ben.. we shouldn’t..” you whisper out, shutting your eyes for a moment as you pull away from him; just enough to have his hold off of your face. he was a fucking supe, for christ sake. you were human. and sooner or later, he’d be gone again; just like that. you couldn’t. no matter how much you so desperately craved it.

he lets out a disappointed noise, breathing out through his mouth, “why not, sweetheart?” he closes in on you again, lips near your ear as he hums, “don’t you like me, baby? don’t you want me? i like you.. n’ i sure as hell.. need you..” he sighs out, his hot breath hitting the sensitive skin on your neck, your body trembling at the feeling.

you groan softly at his words and the touch of his breath against your skin, shutting your eyes tightly. he huffs, pushing his nose softly against your neck, inhaling your scent and rapidly muttering out, “c’mon, baby, c’mon.. gonna take care of you, yeah? make you feel good, don’t y’want that?” he presses kisses on your neck, slowly trailing up to your cheek as his hands move to cup your face, quiet gasps escaping your lips. your eyes open up hazily, rolling to the back of your head as you lift your neck just enough to give him more room.

you don’t even think before you’re pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips, quietly moaning into it as your eyes flutter shut again; your disoriented mind taking over your body completely. he groans against your mouth, his soft lips becoming so harsh against yours, needy and having been deprived of this pleasure for so long.

he pulls away from the kiss for a moment, allowing the two of you to catch your breath as his large hand grips your face, the hold on it tight and rugged. he turns your head to the side, moving in to attack your neck once more with his lips, teeth grazing the skin as he grunts, his body closing in entirely.

it’s primal; instinctive and downright dirty the more he grows impatient. no longer gentle; not him, not now. he all but stands as he leans into you, his free hand moving from your back to your hips, wrapping his arm around you as he uses his super strength to lift you up effortlessly. you yelp as he picks you up, placing you directly on his lap as he settles himself back in his chair, your legs hung around his sides to the best of your ability.

“pretty fucking girl.. you stay right here..” he murmurs out, returning his kisses on you as if his seamless actions were nothing. his hands move to grip your hips tightly now, pushing you further into his lap as you involuntarily grind into him; his cock through those grey sweatpants of his beginning to harden.

“b-ben,” you stammer out, pants heavy as you let him touch you, feel you just how he wants, and you, taking him as you please. your hips and their movements quicken slowly, gradually building up and up the more your cunt throbs against his clothed skin; the way his strong hands keep you moving for him without a second to waste.

your cloudy mind from the drug intervenes with your control, unable to fully grasp your feelings or words that slip from your mind, keeping you completely vulnerable to the man below you. 

god, did that annoy you. 

but, fuck, did it feel so good.

“need you to fuck me, please, ben, please..” you whine out, grinding your core against his hardened cock faster, harder, your impatience getting the best of you. he laughs against your skin, a small moan seeping out of it as he gently bites your neck. “so needy, aren’t you, baby? gonna give you what you want, don’t you worry..”

the hands on your hips find themselves lowering, landing on your ass instantly as ben squeezes, groaning out at the feeling of your flush skin beneath his fingertips. he takes control of you easily, moving your body along his thighs and digging your cunt where he needs it the most. 

the constant friction makes you wetter with each push of his hands, his cock imprinting against his sweatpants with a perfect outline, your panties growing soaked at the sensation of it. an incoherent string of noises falls out of your lips, the gasps and moans sounding like porn to ben’s ears. a satisfied laugh from him shakes you to your core, that deep rumble multiplying your arousal.

you take matters into your own hands, fingers pushing down against his wrists to get him to loosen his grip on you, which he does. you scoot yourself back to disconnect your body from his abdomen, hips stilling on his thighs now, giving you an enticing view of the strain in his pants.

“i said..” you breathe out, mouth falling open as you look into his eyes, lust pouring out of them, “i need you to fuck me,” you emphasize, your fingers moving to palm his bulging cock through his sweats, “so, fuck me.”

you can’t be bothered anymore. you’re past waiting.

your hands slowly find a rhythm as you maintain eye contact with him, ben immediately reacting with a low moan as his hips thrust needily, “fuck, baby..” he hisses out as your fingers slip to the waistband of his sweats, your hand reaching beneath the layer. to your surprise, and delight; no underwear.

god, he was a fucking whore. you loved it. 

“jesus christ, ben,” you let out a laugh as you wrap your fingers around his cock, putting just enough pressure on it, and it makes him twitch against your touch. it elicits a throaty whine from his lips that has you clenching around nothing, squeezing him tighter, tighter. “jus’ take what you want, sweetheart, need you ‘round me, c’mon, ” ben spurs out rapidly, his words the least coherent they’ve been; his usual, old hollywood-esque diction in his voice gone. 

soldier boy, begging you with your hands on his cock and your ass in his lap? 

you couldn’t have possibly dreamt of this moment till now.

you try to hold yourself back, but the little amount of sobriety inside of you’s hardly strong enough to help you achieve that. no more waiting. not now.

“you’re lucky i’m impatient,” you breathe out, and before ben can react, you’re slipping his cock out of his sweats, the heavy weight of him on your hand sending you into a damn near spiral as he twitches against your fingers again, pre-cum practically leaking out of the tip.

you let go of him though, fingers desperately moving to the waistband of your loose sweats to slip them off. ben’s helping you immediately, lifting your hip for you with one hand, and the other hurriedly pushing them down, nearly ripping them off from the pace and force; off, off, off, he all but mutters out with eager noises.

“stupid fuckin’.. fuck, g’off–” ben grumbles until they’re successfully on the floor, and he sighs out in satisfaction, “no more fuckin’ waiting, n’more teasing.”

you nod hurriedly at him, bare legs exposed for him now as his fingers dig into your thighs, taking no second to waste to slide to the hem of your panties, fingers hooking onto them. “useless fuckin’ things,” ben murmurs, and before you can protest, he rips them off seamlessly, throwing them to the floor.

your jaw falls open, gasping out at him, “ben! fuck, i needed those! i didn’t pack any–” 

he shuts you up instantly, his thick index and middle fingers finding your slit, swiping through your soaked folds, and you whine loudly, the sensation making your core tighten. he hushes you softly, looking up at you eagerly, “shh, shh, honey, y’don’t need that shit with me, not now. gonna fuck you right here. now. you’re soaked already.” 

your heavy eyes stare into his own, nodding eagerly as the tip of his fingers bump against your clit, sending a jolt throughout your body. he moans with a short laugh, leaning in to press a messy kiss to your mouth, his other hand just above your ass. he taps your lower back, muttering, “come up here.. gonna have you sit on my cock.. get in as deep as i fucking can.”

you grunt at his words, whining, “fuck, please, ben..” as the sole thought of it sends pulses to your pussy. you nod frantically, immediately scooting closer on his lap to reach his member, kneeling on the sides of his body to lift yourself up. ben’s hand grips the base of his cock to lift it up, and he’s hard, the girth making you drool. you gulp, wondering how the fuck you’ll fit it in, but you’re too high to fucking care.

you position yourself above him, the fat head of it lined up to your cunt perfectly. his hand on your back helps you move closer, the tip nudging against your hole as both hands grip your hips now, fingers digging into your skin. you bite your lip as you look down at his cock, core tensing in preparation. staring into his eyes now, you move, lowering yourself slowly as your walls engulf him bit by bit, inch by inch.

both of you moan as you take him, clenching around him so much that you nearly see stars. you’re so tight around him, and he’s in heaven.

ben groans loudly as his eyes fix on your pussy, and it’s porn right in front of him. he sputters out mindless noises, gritting his teeth as you finally take him to the hilt, feeling his cock fill you up, nudging the deepest parts inside of you.

you hiss out as you sink, your thighs colliding with his own as you adjust to him. “you’re so fuckin’.. tight, oh fuck, sweetheart..” he whines out, and you’re relishing in this; in him. you start moving, hips involuntarily rocking against him as you move up and down. it’s messy; out of rhythm and desperate, but so fucking good.

“haven’t..” he grunts, gripping your hips harder for leverage, “fucked a pussy like this in a long fucking time.” his breaths grow louder the more you move, your throbbing hole just above the tip and slamming back down repeatedly. your core tightens as he starts to thrust up into you, meeting your synchronized movements immediately, and you cry out as you take it. 

you blabber out mindlessly at the sensation, incoherent whines and what seems to sound like ben’s name over and over again filling his ears, and he just laughs, lifting himself from the back of the chair to sit up, adjusting you with him. his chest meets your body, chin resting on your shoulder as his hand finds your hair, gripping it tightly and pushing your body into him. he’s flush against your skin as he huffs into your ear, the hot breath engulfing your brain. your fucked out head and blown, wide eyes.

he moves against you as you bounce on his cock, words spurring out with his harsh pants on your skin, fingers tightening into your hair, “no thoughts in this pretty head, huh? nothin’ but my fucking cock in this cunt. s’how it should be. pretty girls like you.. s’what you’re made for.. made for me.”

your head scrambles at his words; the way they’re so filthy, but most of all? 

because of how right he is.

he fits inside of you like a glove; a perfect hole that’s meant for him to fuck. it has your eyes lolling back over and over again, unable to truly focus on the task at hand. and when your movements begin to slow because of this, ben’s grip on you handles it for you, hips thrusting up into you aggressively. your stomach tightens repeatedly as the tip of his cock hits the deepest parts inside of you, practically bulging out with each hit into you, and it makes your pussy convulse around him, rambled noises escaping your lips.

“am i right, honey? are you made for me?” ben growls in your ear, his harsh grunts echoing, “fuckin’,” he huffs, “answer me..”

his words hardly register in your brain as you grow closer and closer to your release, short moans being the only thing you can muster out, along with a few noises that almost sound like ben’s name. “mmphf– b-be– ah–”

he shushes you, arms wrapped around your body, “don’t gotta think baby, just feel.. let me take you like this, just feel me..” ben whispers desperately into your ear, moving one of his hands to reach between you, the large palm pressing into your lower abdomen, “right fucking here. you’re gonna feel me for fucking days, baby.”

it has your stomach doing flips, body quivering against ben’s hold. your eyes shoot open as he begins to slow his thrusts, relying on pure power rather than speed now. his hips snap into you repeatedly, slow and deliberate as if he needs to make sure your body memorizes the shape of his cock.

and, knowing him? you probably will.

you know that you’ll never get fucked like this again. you know that you’re already completely ruined for any other man now. and a part of you’s okay with that.

his fingers gripping your hair. his hands digging into your skin. the strike of his hips, holding you captive for him as he takes you. how could you think of anything else?

ben’s power over you doesn’t relent at all, his super strength enough leverage to keep himself completely occupied. the hips slamming inside of you have you seeing stars now, your eyes threatening to twitch open in bliss as he buries himself in your throbbing cunt. you involuntarily flutter around him, walls pulsing as your core constricts.

you feel ben’s cock twitch inside of you, his moans growing heavier as he lets out a breathless laugh, “you’re so.. close, i can feel you, sweetheart..” he grunts and snarls, his thrusts quickening rapidly, “and you’re gonna come on my cock like the good girl you are.. while i fill you up.. make sure i stay in this sweet pussy forever.”

you cry out as that familiar heat in your stomach arises, blurting out nonsense, along with a, “p-please, ben, please–”, that leaves you panting.

“yeah, baby? want me to come inside of you, s’that it?”

you nod furiously, whining out as your face heats up at the thought, flush and its sensation overwhelming you. you’re hot all over, and you just need a release.

“that’s my girl.. my sweet girl. gonna come inside of you, give you what you need..” he breathes out against your ear, and before you realize it, you’re convulsing around his cock, yelping out as you come. your hands grip onto his back, his arms, anything you can hold onto as you ride through it.

“there we go, baby, just like that, my fuckin’ girl..” he encourages you, overstimulating you with his unrelenting hips as he buries himself inside of you over and over again, making you clench around him uncontrollably. you’re spewing out mindless moans as your walls spasm, and it makes ben whine. 

he grunts out rapidly, unable to control the noises he makes as his hands on your hips feel tight enough to leave bruises, “gonna.. gonna fuckin’, oh– fuck!–” he moans loudly, cutting himself off as he pushes you down to the hilt, cock twitching rapidly with his come spilling inside of you. you feel the streams of hot white bury inside of you, and you’re lightheaded at the feeling, the aftershocks of your orgasm forming tears in your eyes.

you whine against him as you hold on tight, his hips rocking into you as you both ride it out. it’s almost intimate at how breathless the two of you are, taking in each other completely.

he huffs against your skin, pressing a small kiss to your shoulder. it’s wordless, but it goes without saying. 

this was a moment you’d never forget. and you hoped that he wouldn’t either.

eventually, ben lifts your hips up, his cock sliding out of you as the mess you both made slips out of your cunt, making you whine at the feeling of his come falling out of you. the slick catches itself on his cock, spilling onto his grey sweats sloppily, and you can’t deny the twinge of arousal the sight brings you. leave that for another time.

you take a deep breath as you let out a small laugh, preparing to say something about getting up and cleaning yourself up, but to your surprise, ben’s arm holds onto your body tightly, lifting you up as his other hand shoves his sweats down, feet stepping out of them. he’ll deal with it later.

you yelp as he stands up fully with you in his arms, carrying you as he walks over to the shitty hotel bathroom, lowering you to stand in the bathtub. ben hums softly as he grabs a small rag, running warm water underneath it and squeezing out the excess water.

you’re in too much.. shock to bring yourself to say anything, but when he brings the rag to wipe your inner thighs and core, you let out a noise of surprise, cheeks warming up. who the fuck knew soldier boy could be so.. gentle?

he doesn’t look up at you as he continues. instead, he asks, “what? too hot?”

you let out a laugh, shaking your head. “no, just right.”

he lets out a satisfied noise as he finishes cleaning you up thoroughly, throwing the rag to the side as he grabs another one for himself, repeating the process. you watch him in awe as he does so, and you try your hardest to make sure you don’t fall in love with him.

but, when he carries you to the hotel bed and lays you down like you’re glass that might break, it seems a bit too late for that. and when he gets in that bed with you and holds you like his life depends on it? 

you know you’re done for, and you’re in for a ride.

[xenaxena]

masterlists

✦✧✦✧ saltburn

⋆✦⋆ felix catton

⋆ shiny new toy - a saltburn inspired short story (contains nsfw material, 18+)

✦✧✦✧ the boys

⋆✦⋆ billy butcher

⋆ the chronicles of ginger billy butcher - a real life love story and mystery

⋆ abandoned - long fic (chapter three out now)

⋆ i didn’t know - imagine

⋆ hittin' it from the back - blurb (nsfw, 18+)

⋆ you're in trouble - blurb

⋆ suckin' him off - blurb (nsfw, 18+)

⋆ peggin' him - anon sub (nsfw), 18+)

⋆ not allowed - blurb (nsfw, 18+)

⋆ comforting butcher - sub imagine

⋆ you're his ashtray - blurb reblog of @whitefeathers (nsfw, 18+)

⋆ butcher's brat - blurb (nsfw, 18+)

⋆ pain relief - imagine (nsfw, 18+)

[xenaxena]

corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

[xenaxena]

The Boys Masterlist

Homelander

Assistant (Smut)

Bully

Obsessed with Homelander (Bullet Points) (Smut)

Breastfeeding with Homelander (Smut)

Forget

The Bet (Smut)

What if Y/N had powers and Homelander didn’t? (Bullet Points)

Homelander dating a member of The Boys (Bullet Points)

Fake Dating Homelander

Using Homelander For Your Own Pleasure (Smut)

Innocent (Smut)

Future

Clingy Homelander (Bullet Points)

Paparazzi

Supe! Y/N x Non Supe! John

Stand Up (Smut)

His What? (Smut)

Whatever It Takes (Smut)

Billy Butcher

Beard

Innocent (Smut)

You’re A Supe

Used (Smut)

Butcherlander + Y/N

Homelander and Billy being obsessed with Y/N (Bullet Points)

Both Of You (Smut)

Soldier Boy

His Dad (Smut)

The Getter (Smut)

Better

Sexist

Mother of America

Possessive

[xenaxena]

“(Don’t) Hurry Down The Chimney Tonight” - Dean x Reader

Rating Explicit

Dean x Reader

Tags: Christmas (Holiday) Smut, Red Ribbons, Candy Canes, Peppermint Sensations, Sleigh Bells, Sexy Santa References, Dean is Tied Up, Edging, Oral Sex, 69, Vaginal Sex, Reader is a Naughty Little Vixen, Dean deserves a proper (sexy) Christmas.

Word Count: 2700

Summary: Dean saved Reader from the supernatural on Christmas Eve years ago. Every Christmas since, she has always found a way to show her unending appreciation.

Notes: This smutty little fic is a holiday gift for @jessjad for the 2023 SPNFanFicPond Secret Santa Fic Exchange. I hope you enjoy the reader’s sexy times with Dean.

Big thanks to @sam-is-my-safeword and runawaydr3amer (AO3) for reading the first draft and helping with a great many awesome smut ideas. Additional thanks to runawaydr3amer, who also beta’d this fic and packaged it up nice and shiny. 

Merry holidays!

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo, and this part will fill my "Edging" square.

Resources:

Collage created in Canva

Pic found on Google (Fanpop)

Song Reference: Santa Baby by Joan Javits and Philip Springer (listen/watch this version sung by Eartha Kitt)

Dean sinks those pearly whites into the flesh of his bottom lip. His top lip pulls up and back into a painful sneer. The usual rosy, pillowy fullness of that mouth is instead taut, whitening under the capture. You laser focus onto the pointy canine denting into the mouth you have debated sitting on since you began this teasing challenge.

jingle

You finish fashioning a sweet little bow with the ribbon. It’s ruby red and velvety soft.

“Well, I think that’s about the prettiest package I ever did wrap.”

jingle

“What do you think, Mr. Claus?” you ask, your voice as innocent and demure as you can manage.

Dean opens his mouth and expels a slow gasp. jingle “Fuck, sweetheart. You aren’t playin’ fair.”

“That’s the whole point.”

You rise from the edge of the bed and take in the entire scene. It’s magnificent. 

He’s magnificent.

Dean is lying atop the forest green comforter of your bed. Naked. Well, not totally naked. A red ribbon - adorned with one single sleigh bell - binds his wrists together and anchors him to the headboard. His arms, jutting out and bent to create a diamond-shaped frame around his face, give you a prime ticket to the gun show. Biceps flex and tendons raise under the skin as he tries to remain as motionless as possible.

jingle

You aren’t a complete heathen. He’s got a fluffy pillow, the same deep green color as the comforter, to rest his head atop. Dean is anything but sleepy. He’s wound up. He stares back at you, the green of his irises electric and flaming with intensity.

You anticipate how sublime it will feel to strum the cords of his neck. Tickle your fingertips down that chest. You imagine Dean ring-a-ding-dinging and cursing himself if you take the time to trace the outline of his tattoo. Circle those perky nipples. Dip into his belly button and follow his treasure trail of baby-fine hair.

You marvel again at the other ribbon that you tied. You’d purchased a couple yards of red velvet at the craft store weeks ago with this in mind. With him in mind. You were ecstatic it had been enough to criss-cross around the crease below that fine ass. It wraps over a slight vee along his waist. The makeshift holiday jockstrap has Dean’s beautiful, now fully erect, cock sporting a bow.

Dean sighs. “Are you done decking my balls?” jingle

You giggle and fiddle with the belt of your robe. It’s red as well, but made of silk. “As we discussed, the end result of all of this is all up to you. Santa.” You flip a switch to turn off the ceiling light. The sconces stay on above the headboard. Two halos figure eight over Dean’s beautiful body, awash in a warm amber glow.

He’s a full print ad of holiday cheer and sinful debauchery.

“You’re being very naughty, (jingle) Mrs. Claus.” Dean licks his top lip—your core clenches at the deep timbre of his scolding. 

You’ve been wet since you both finished Christmas dinner. Since you told him you had one more gift for him waiting upstairs. Since you left him in the bedroom with orders to strip while you changed in the bathroom. Since you pulled out the ribbons. Since you explained that if he was good and could keep his jingling down to a minimum through what you had planned, you’d fuck him into the New Year.

You inhale and shrug, then begrudgingly turn your back to the sight. It takes a few taps on your phone for you to get to the song. You stifle another giggle at the little jingles Dean can’t help as he waits. 

Once you tap the play button, the festive and recognizable melody begins. A barbershop quartet bah-bums a bit before the sultry and smooth vocals of Eartha Kitt take the lead.

You look back over your shoulder at Dean and whisper along with Eartha.

You peel the silky robe off one shoulder then the other. Dean groans when the layer slips down to the floor. jingle

“Shit.” He moans and you grin in satisfaction at the hoped for reaction.

You turn back to face him, adding a dramatic hair flip. You're wearing a sexy little Mrs. Claus outfit. It’s a red velvet dress with a scandalously high skirt and a low-cut halter. White fur lines both the top and bottom. It’s all cinched nice and tight around your waist with a black belt and a gold buckle.

You bend at the knees and lean forward, shoulders folding in and hands resting on your thighs. It gives Dean the perfect vantage to ogle your cleavage. You purr along with the next line and modify the lyrics a smidge.

“Man, I must have been a really good boy this year.” Dean stares in awe, not even caring how much he’s jingling with his squirms atop the bed.

You let it slide for the time being, thrilled at the kid in a candy store grin plastered on his face and the way the bow sways with every twitch of his cock.  

Dean tilts his head to the side. His gaze begins at your red-glitter heels and canvases every inch of skin from ankles to thighs. He pauses, stopping to stare at the hint of flesh under the skirt hem. jin-jingle jingle jin-jingle He pants out, “Mrs. Claus forgot her panties, huh?”

You lift a finger and wiggle it back and forth in the air. “Uh-uh-uh. Remember, really good boys stay still if they want their present.”

The bell jangles no matter how carefully he attempts to reposition himself. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbles and you laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll be good,” he whispers soft and sweet.

The heels tap across the hardwood as you walk over to settle beside Dean. You adjust your skirt to let the scant amount of fabric fan over your naughty bits. Being so close to him makes you forget the lyrics to sing along with Eartha.

You rest a hand on his chest. Through clenched teeth, Dean inhales at the touch, the rest of him frozen in place. The bell is silent. Your other hand grabs one of the candy canes you had left on the bedside table. For reasons.

Watching him fight every urge he has to reach out and touch you is fascinating. And the power you have over him gives you a head rush. You continue the tease, twirling the candy between your fingers, then laving the cane’s hook with your mouth and tongue. Dean garners some pity from you as he whines, brows downturned, eyes attentive to your every swirl and suck. You swing the cane close to his mouth. “Wanna taste?”

He swallows. “Wanna taste you,” he states, the hint of hope escaping around the edges of a soft moan.

The thrill of his need quickens your pulse. No other man has loved and adored you as thoroughly and exuberantly as Dean Winchester. You nod. “You will. But, first,” you rub the wet-slick candy cane over his bottom lip, “show me what that mouth wants to do.”

“You know what this mouth can do,” he reminds with a little sass, letting the candy cane tap against his bottom teeth. 

But soon enough, he indulges you. He slips the hook between his lips. His tongue slides out under the curve of peppermint, lapping at the sticky sweet. Again and again. Your breath hitches into your open mouth as you watch, enthralled at the ministrations of that thick and powerful muscle. He sucks the confection in a little farther, pursing his lips. The sounds he’s making, enjoying the treat, are downright pornographic and send any extraneous bell ringing to the back of your hearing queue. The red food coloring coats them like lip gloss by the time you break from the spell of his show. You guess it’s been minutes since Eartha finished her rendition of ‘Santa, Baby.’ The rest of the playlist you created has soft and dreamy instrumentals.

“My turn,” you cajole. You tug on the cane. He relinquishes, but not without some resistance. A little pop escapes his mouth once the hook is freed. You marvel at the progress he made. The hook end is substantially shorter and thinner than when he began.

He sniffs and tilts his chin up in pride. jingle “Your turn with that, or my turn with you?”

The cane slips back into your mouth, your fingers sticky from all the handling. You stand, kick off your heels, and climb back onto the bed on your knees. You grin as you suck on the candy.

His eyes soften. “Be careful, baby. Don’t want you to choke. Well, at least not on that.” He smirks.

He’s right. Safety first. You toss the candy onto the bedside table.

“You are so (jingle) fucking hot in that (jingle) outfit.” He grins and waggles eyebrows in anticipation. “Gonna let me down your chimney, Mrs. Claus?” jingle jingle jingle

The actions in the next few seconds are a blur. You wonder if Dean has some sort of Jedi mind control ability. Because even though you are supposed to be the one making decisions this evening, his seductively god-awful puns find you sitting on his face, reverse cowgirl. 

“You might get the golden ticket to all my secret places if you’re lucky.” Your fingers tip-toe down his chest like a grinch about to steal someone else’s presents. 

jingle jingle jingle

“Fuckin’ hell,” Dean murmurs under your skirt. Hot breath bathes your inner thighs and other areas you hope will soon be explored.

Your hands rest in the little divots created by his pelvic bones while you take his body in and plan your method of attack. You pull on the ribbon and release his cock of the bow. Then, you’re deep throating him like he’s your last meal.

Not one to be outdone at an all-you-can-eat buffet, Dean’s entire face gets in on the feast as well. Nerves respond to the tingling sensation of the residual peppermint on Dean’s lips and tongue. You shiver at the gloriously heightened sensitivity when he pulls back to blow on your pussy. “This is so much better than milk and cookies.” He moans and groans and jingles all the way. 

As much as you’re loving the taste of his precome, the velvet texture against your tongue, and the way the tip triggers a tiny gag reflex at the base of your throat, it’s time to remind him of the consequences of all that noise he’s making. You release the hard length from your mouth and try to concentrate on your own breathing during the absolute virtuoso way he’s eating you out. As much as you’d love his fingers to get in on the action, you know you’d have no control over the situation. You sigh in relief that he’s trying to adhere to some parts of the game. The pitiful, half-hearted ribbon shackling of his hands to the headboard is no match for Dean Winchester.

You steady yourself on wobbly knees and one shaky elbow. A firm grip around the base of his cock makes Dean gasp. He stills after that. In your mind’s eye, you picture the beauty of that mouth and how his luscious pink lips were slick with peppermint. You imagine how slick they are with you now. “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs and you feel him settle back onto the pillow. “I’ll be as quiet as I can. Can you blame me, though? Here I am, under your sweet little skirt, in the dark (jingle)... shit, sorry. But, you can’t drop a five-course meal in front of a starving (jingle) man and not expect him to wanna little taste.”

You squeeze his cock. “That’s part of the challenge.”

“I’m always up for a challenge. You always make me feel so good.”

You groan at the praise he bestows. Without releasing your hold, you shimmy off his chest. Channeling the prim and delicate sensibilities of Mrs. Claus, you crawl along the comforter and settle between nutcracker bow legs. With knees tucked under you and sat atop bare feet you accept him in your mouth again and get to work. 

You take in the sight of Dean inventorying your every action. He’s gripping the top of the headboard with both hands to steady his upper body. You clock that the little stinker has also managed to palm the sleigh ball in an effort to silence or, at the very least, muffle it. You consider that move cheating. But he feels so sublime that you can’t bear to part with him to voice your irritation. He’s also whispering the sweetest filth to you while he watches.

“Damn. Yeah. Those lips of yours feel so good around my cock. You take it so good, baby. Wish I could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, but I’d definitely jingle-jangle way too much.” A tongue swipe over his top lip accentuates the glossy look of his ruby-tinted mouth in the warm light. “You really are too good to me. You give the best Christmas presents.” He stiffens further with each downstroke. “Aw, yeah. Suck it.” Your rhythm increases. “So pretty. Wanna touch you so bad.” He gasps. “Fuck, I’m gettin’ close.” jingle jingle   

You clamp around the base again and squeeze, freeze mid-swallow - your lips around the tip - as soon as he rings.

Dean squirms and grumbles.

You continue to bring him to the edge of orgasm, then halt. Your jaw is aching along with the rest of your body as time passes.

You’ve fucked Dean up in the best way possible. He’s blissed out, wound up tighter than a spring. You’ve got him begging. But his words grow into admonishments with each successive denial. “You can’t keep doing this, baby. There’s gonna be consequences. Santa’s gonna for real put you on his naughty list. Nothing but coal in your stocking,” he huffs.

You give your mouth a reprieve and stroke him. “Is that all that happens to naughty girls?”

He gnaws at his bottom lip before offering, “You really wanna find out?”

You nod.

The ribbon binding Dean to the headboard shreds with one mighty tug. He pitches the sleigh bell in the air. It jingles as it pinballs around the room. 

You gasp as he cinches those hands under your armpits and drags you up his body. He crushes his lips into yours, tastes you with his tongue. The mixture of your arousal and a hint of peppermint melts you in his arms. Then, a sudden and swift rollover pins you beneath him.

He hovers, tosses your skirt up to your chest, and wedges between your legs. His hard, heavy cock slips into your folds and glides through your wetness. “I could drag this out. Or.” It’s his turn to tease. He notches snug against your entrance. You’re surprised your muscles haven’t pulled him into you of their own accord the way your entire body spasms with need. He whispers in your ear, “Let me be your Santa, baby.”

You gasp, “And hurry down the chimney tonight.”

He groans in victory and slides in, balls deep. He thrusts. One massive hand gathers your wrists together on the pillow above your head to anchor you in place. Fingers of his other hand grip the top of the headboard. Every sway in and out of you gets more frenetic. You’re screaming his name and he’s cursing yours. 

“Good girls do what they’re told,” he states, out of breath, face reddening. His gaze locks with yours. He slows down. Releases your hands. Finds your clit amid the white fur and red velvet. Strums. Angles and hits your sweet spot deep within you with a harsh abandon. “Come.”

Minutes later, after you’ve both orgasmed, you’re curled into his chest. “That was…” you manage between heavy exhales.

“Yeah, that was awesome.” He kisses your forehead. “Every year, since I saved you from that ghost on Christmas Eve, you find a way to outdo yourself with the holiday cheer.”

“Well, you deserve it. I’m glad you can get away for a little while and get a special treat.”

He sighs. “You know, you don’t have to feel obligated to…”

You rest a finger atop his lips. “How I see it. Guy saves your life one time, you owe him the rest of yours.”

He smiles and pulls you in. “How about we just focus on tonight, yeah?”

You nod. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

[xenaxena]

Dean Winchester NSFW headcannons ❤️

a/n: i’m nothing if not a slut for him. lmk if you guys want a pt 2!!!

warnings: SMUTTTTT!!! aimed towards afab!readers, all of this is consensual behavior! not edited

dean is such a switch

one night he’s telling you to beg for his cock

the next he’s a whimpering, moaning mess while you fuck him

he’ll be so gentle, fucking you sweetly one night

kissing all over your body, touching you right where you need

other night he’ll be fucking you fast and hard, a grip on your wrists above your head

“that’s right, my pretty little slut, making me feel so fucking good.”

sometimes he will tie his belt around your thighs and fuck them

he’ll make sure he’s close enough to rub against your clit

when he sees your pussy for the first time he’s on his knees and takes his middle and pointer finger and spreads her apart

“she’s so pretty.”

kisses your clit

will eat you out like a starved man

begs you to let him

“please, please. i need to taste your pussy.”

he will get on his knees and throw your legs over his shoulders so your pussy is literally right in his face

makes sure you cum more than once

gentle dom when you’re overstimulated

“c’mon, baby. you can do one more for me right?”

deans down to try anything once

anything

he has a daddy kink idc

call him daddy and he’ll start fucking you on the spot

he loves praise but slips in some degradation here and there

“fuck, so good for me. such a cumslut for daddy’s cum huh? driving me fucking crazy, babygirl.”

dean will fuck you ANYWHERE!

car sex? mhmm

public? bathroom fuck

and i know what you’re thinking

“what’s if there’s not a bathroom?”

dean will put a vibrator in that pretty pussy and watch you crumble

insists on having a safe word

he gets caught up in the moment

he’s also vocal

not afraid to moan for you

this is my take

dean (CONSENSUALLY) will fuck you while you’re sleeping

the thought of you waking up all innocent and unaware with his cum dripping from you is enough to make him bust

also when you give him blowjobs he holds your head while he cums so he can watch you swallow it all down and finish sucking him off

he will definitely finger you under blankets while other people are in the room

🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ idc

his dick is big. and girthy

he loves how you whimper whenever he goes into you

again, very vocal

“fuck-fuck baby.. oh-oh i’m gonna cum- ohhh god… good girl.. good girl.”

“that’s right, take daddy’s cock like a good slut. my good little slut.”

“god- i love you.”

“you make such pretty noises, babygirl.”

i need him biblically.

sucks your tits

when he’s in a submissive mood he will spend so long just sucking your titties and slowly fucking into you

titfuck him

loves cumming on your chest

rubs it over your nipples

he will cum in your panties and then make you wear them

[xenaxena]

Soldier Boy NSFW Alphabet

a/n: a request from @foxyanon for a soldier boy nsfw alphabet! 🩷

TW: profanity, innuendo, afab reader, she/her pronouns

Disclaimer: I do not own any of The Boys characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Ben will do the absolute bare minimum. You'll have to have a long talk with him if your relationship gets more serious, because this man is completely useless when it comes to stuff like this. But, the good thing is he can be trained. Definitely loves sharing a good post coital cigarette with you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Favorite part of himself is his beard because he loves the way you squirm when it's tickling your thighs. Favorite part of yours is a tie between your hair and your ass. He is an ass man through and through.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Doesn't like the thought of any more kids (look how the first one turned out), but he loves to paint your pretty face, your tits, your stomach, your ass with his cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

If you're a supe, he loves it if you're willing to get a little rough with him. He'll never tell any of his teammates, but the idea of you riding him, your hand wrapped around his throat, your tits bouncing in his face? It drives him fucking crazy.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Rest assured, Ben knows his way around a woman's body. He's got more experience than every member of the Seven combined, so he definitely knows how to make you scream.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style. Loves being able to tug on your hair, smack your ass, grope at your tits. There's just something so animalistic and primal about it that he can't resist.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not goofy at all. Fucking is something he takes extremely seriously. He's always very in the moment, intense and focused.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Carpet is a bit darker/coarser than the drapes, but he keeps it well-trimmed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ben isn't a romantic in general. For him, sex isn't really about the emotional connection. But if he catches feelings for you? This man is a soppy mess, whispering how much he loves you, praising you. But when it's over, he says you better not tell anyone how mushy he got.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Prefers getting his relief with you, but when he's on a long mission? This man has a selection of boudouir photos of you and Playboy magazines that he will completely ruin with how often he jacks off.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Daddy kink, choking, bondage (on you), overstim (on you), exhibitionism

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Absolutely anywhere and everywhere. His place, your place, Vought Tower, on a mission, at a fancy restaurant. This man is always ready to go.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

The back of your neck, your cleavage, your supe suit and the way it clings to your body, seeing you kicking ass, seeing your lips wrapped around a cigarette and imagining it's his cock, the sound of your voice.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He doesn't like being restrained after what he went through. Needs to have his hands free at all times. Also doesn't want to be blindfolded or gagged. But he'll gladly do it to you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Slight preference for receiving just because he's selfish, but he finds that with you he fucking loves eating you out. Loves the way you taste, the way your thighs shake when his beard rubs against you, the way you cry out begging for more even though your body can hardly take it. And God, when you cry from overstimulation? Nothing drives him crazier than that.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough. You two are often in a hurry, so slow and sensual isn't really on the table most of the time. However, on the rare occasions it is, it's definitely something to remember.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves quickies. A huge advocate for them. Vought supply closet? In the woods while doing recon? He's in.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Adventurous in the bedroom for sure. Loves trying new things with you/on you so long as he's the one in control.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a supe. He'll go until you're on the verge of passing out, and even then, he'll keep going, saying you can give him just one more, that you're gonna be a good girl for Daddy.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Doesn't have a bunch of toys, but loves using the ones you own on you. Fucking you with your vibe or dildo, loves the idea of using a plug on you to prepare you to take him in your other tight little hole, loves using the cute little blindfold you have on you to tease you for hours.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He's a fucking menace. He loves teasing you. He'll edge you for what feels like hours before going crazy and making you come over and over and over again.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not particularly loud, but lets out some very sexy sounding groans of your name.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Will cum in 2 seconds flat if you tug on his hair. He's a sucker for that.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Average length and girth but he knows what to do with it.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

VERY high. This man is a horny wreck.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Pretty soon after sharing a cigarette because the two of you go at it for hours and he's pretty damn tired by the end of it.

[xenaxena]

The Slightest Touch - Sam Winchester Drabble

Summary: You let Sam help you explore new sensations.

Tags: bdsm, sub!reader, dom!Sam, touch starvation, bondage, blindfolds, feather play, orgasms

Word Count: 999

@spnkinkbingo​ Square Filled: Sensation Play

A/Ns: This drabble is an exert from a oneshot I wrote for one of my All the Way-ers on Patreon <3

SPN Kink Bingo Masterlist // Sam Winchester Masterlist // Support Me on Patreon

- - -

The leather cuffs around your wrists and ankles had been soft to begin with but now they were tight, a little uncomfortable, keeping you pinned to the bed with barely any room for movement. The most you could do was retreat your limbs slightly, arch your back off of the bed. The world was black. Even with your eyes open you couldn’t see a thing. The black silk pressed tightly against your eyes so you couldn’t see anything. This only heightened your other senses more. You could feel the cool air breezing over your naked body, hardening your nipples, making tiny goosebumps erupt everywhere. You could hear the ticking of the clock on the nightstand, you could smell the washing powder on the fresh sheets. But still you couldn’t sense your boyfriend. You licked your lips wet, nervously awaiting some kind of hint he hadn’t just disappeared completely. 

Keep reading

[xenaxena]

Busy - Sam Winchester Oneshot

Summary: Sam’s busy with work since his Ted Talk was aired, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to entertain you.

Rating: 18+ (PWP)

Tags: touch denial, teasing, semi-public smut, audio porn, daddy kink, fingering, blowjob, dirty talking, stimulation, edging, orgasms

WC: ±2.7k

@winchesterandbeyondbingo Square: Actor!AU // @spnkinkbingo Square: Ted Talk!Sam

A/Ns: This fic was inspired by a post I saw on a porn blog, and all the audio porn I’ve been getting into, and it just kinda spiralled into this utter filth, so you’re very welcome!

SPN Masterlist // SPN Bingos Masterlist // Listen to the Audio Version Here

Like my work? Consider supporting me on Pateron - Link in my bio!

Sam hasn’t looked at you in five minutes. Not that you’ve been counting – watching the large clock above his head tick around over and over again, so it’s now eleven thirty eight. Eleven thirty three was when he’d last looked up from his laptop and in your direction. Fuck.

“Oh you like that, Princess? Like when I touch you like that? Feel how wet you are for Daddy?” You squirm in your place, squeezing your eyes closed for a moment to try and regain your composure. This gets your boyfriend’s attention. His hazel eyes land on you, and then between your spread legs, and he smirks softly when he confirms you’re not breaking the golden rule – no touching – and returns his gaze to his work.

You clench around nothing, feeling your legs growing tired. The smooth leather under your knees was cool to begin with, but you’ve been in this position so long, it’s grown hot and tacky beneath your skin. Your legs are hooked over the arms of the armchair, spreading yourself on full display for him. You’re not allowed to touch, but Sam had pulled your panties to one side, only an hour into his work day, once they were soaked and ruined, and he wanted to see how much of a mess you’d already become.

He’d slipped back into his office chair with a smug grin on his face as you dripped onto the leather seat beneath you and begged him for some relief.

“I’m busy, baby girl, you’re gonna have to wait,” was all he’d said, before ignoring you from then on.

“Fuck baby, you feel that? Feel how hard you make me? Jesus, Daddy just wants to fill this desperate little pussy so badly, but you’re gonna have to get it nice and stretched for me first.” – Of course, sitting with your legs spread and your dripping pussy on display for your boyfriend wasn’t even the worst part. You could’ve probably survived the no touching rule, if that was all your day would entail, but the earbuds Sam had pushed into your ears are playing through some of the filthiest audio porn you’ve ever heard, and your legs are almost shaking, you want to touch yourself so badly. You can never resist when listening to your favourite audios.

The porn actor’s voice is so fucking deep and sensual, and all the grunts and gasps that he’s making as he plays up to the fantasy he’s painting in your head is making your mind spin. You’re pretty sure, if you weren’t trying to distract yourself from the guy telling you the most dirty, depraved things in your ear with the man sitting opposite you doing nothing but working, you could probably get off untouched.

“Oh fuck, just like that baby, that’s it, suck me down, fuuuuuck.” His moans fill your ears and you whimper – how loudly you’re not sure because the audio is drowning out the sound of your own voice — but it gets Sam’s attention again, and he turns in his chair slightly. Your stomach flutters at the prospect of him giving you attention — you’re craving it so badly. His eyes on you only intensifies the feelings the audio is giving you, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from moaning again.

Sam reaches for his cellphone and lifts it. You can only assume at the angle he’s holding it at he’s taking a photo, or maybe a video to show you later what a desperate, needly little girl you are. And you know he’s told his PA not to bother him at all today, but his office door is still unlocked, meaning anyone could just walk in and see you like this if they wanted to. You wouldn’t even hear them coming if they did. The very thought only makes your heart race harder as Sam continues to take photos or videos of you, and your head is still swimming with moans.

“Fuck sweetheart, that little mouth is so good around Daddy’s cock. Love the way you gag on it, take it deeper c’mon, there ya go. You gonna touch yourself for me whilst you suck Daddy’s cock? Yeah you are, nice and wet for me, princess?” You can feel the trickle down your thighs and squirm again, desperate for some kind of friction, even if it’s just from the air.

Sam suddenly lifts a finger to his lips, and you can’t tell why you need to be quiet, maybe someone’s outside the office, or maybe you’re just being too loud, but you try your hardest to be silent, even though you can’t even hear yourself. Sam presses his phone to his ear and then starts to talk, though you can’t hear what he’s saying. He finally gets out of his chair and rounds his desk, slowly and casually making his way over to you.

“That’s it princess, get those fingers nice and deep in your pussy, stretch it out for Daddy’s cock, or it won’t fit.” You close your eyes tight and will yourself to not touch, like you’ve been commanded not to, but you want nothing more than to plunge your fingers deep inside you like you’re being instructed to. But he’s not in charge of you – Sam is.

You open your eyes and see that Sam’s now standing over you, a small smirk on his lips as he answers whoever is on the other end of the phone. He once more holds his finger to his lips and you bite your lips closed from the inside, nodding your head to show you’ll comply. Sam’s large hand drops, landing on your knee, and your whole body shivers at the touch as he begins to move his hand a little higher up.

“C’mere baby, stand in front of Daddy just like that, spread those legs – oh you like it when I run my hand up your thigh, dontcha? So desperate.” It’s like Sam can hear it too, and whilst the voice doesn’t match Sam’s, it’s still enough to get you even closer to the edge. Your eyes roll, your hips bucking upwards, in a desperate search for his touch to be closer to your pussy.

Sam pulls back ever so slightly, so you relax again, hoping to let him continue without any further interruption. He continues to speak on the phone, but his voice is mere background buzz when you’ve got moaning in your ears.

“You want Daddy to touch you, baby girl? Want Daddy’s fingers on your dripping cunt? Look at it, so fucking messy for me,” he growls. Sam doesn’t quite touch you, but his thumb does pull at your pussy lip, spreading you even further open for him as he marvels at it. His lips are moving again as he talks, but his eyes are trained on your cunt. Your whole body is practically trembling in anticipation, but then his hand moves away, and you’re not sure if you were able to keep the disappointed whimper inside. Sam doesn’t show on his face if you did make any noise, though.

“Oh fuck, Daddy just loves that sweet little cunt of yours, baby. How many fingers should I use, hm? Three? Oh baby girl, you’re far too tight for three, we need to work you open first. So fucking greedy.”

Sam’s hand moves towards your mouth, and you’re quick to open it and suck his fingers softly, swirling your tongue around the digits like it’s his cock, and then Sam pulls them out and smirks, his face adorned with admiration. You’re breathing heavily, that much you can tell, as Sam lowers his hand to between your legs and slowly pushes one finger in, to the first knuckle. Your whole body shudders in relief of finally being touched, and you try your hardest to be quiet as he once again talks to the person on the phone. He pushes his finger a little deeper and then curls it, dragging it back out along your sweet spot, before adding a second.

“Want another one, baby girl? Fuck you feel so tight, gonna feel so fucking good around my cock.” You nod fervently, answering the audio despite the fact that it’s not Sam, and Sam’s smirk widens as he pushes two fingers in to the second knuckle and hooks them onto your g-spot, using his thumb to rub in small circles over your clit.

You can’t stop yourself from bucking your hips against his hand, fucking yourself on his fingers as you clamp your own hand over your mouth to stop yourself from screaming out. Sam straightens up, bending over to keep his fingers inside you. He traps his phone between his shoulder and his ear, and with his now free hand, reaches down to open his slacks. You can see he’s hard from the impressive bulge behind the fabric, and when he pulls himself free he’s leaking pre-cum and throbbing in his fist. Sam’s hand leaves his cock and grips the back of your neck, urging you closer, and once your lips are wrapped around his tip, he grips his phone once more and continues to speak. His fingers wiggle inside you.

“Fuck I think you’re ready for Daddy’s cock, Princess. Look at you, all dripping and stretched open for me. Gonna fuck you so deep… oh you like the sound of that, don’t you? Love it when Daddy splits you open on his cock, fuck baby, I’m throbbing just thinking about it.” You suck Sam down harder, swirling your tongue as much as possible and Sam thrusts his hips forward, and starts fucking you harder and deeper with his fingers. You’re not sure who he’s talking to, but the conversation is still going, and you can only assume it’s some kind of business off of the back of his Ted Talk that recently went live. He’s been so busy since then, hardly any time for you. But now you’re hoping he brings you to work every day if this is how it’s going to go. It might be torture, but it’s perfect.

“You ready for it, baby? Beg me for it, wanna hear you. You don’t sound like you want to me, I said beg me. That’s more like it, c’mere.” You moan around Sam’s cock and he pulls back, pulling his fingers out of you and reaching up to quickly loosen his tie and pull it from his collar.

Taking the silk item, he starts stuffing it in your mouth, gagging you enough that you assume your protests are totally muffled, and he doesn’t seem fazed when you whimper, so it mightn’t be too loud.

“Oh fuck, baby girl that little cunt is fucking perfect, such a naughty little slut for your Daddy, aren’t ya? Yeah you are.” Sam plunges his fingers back inside you and you bite down hard on the tie, Squeezing your eyes shut as you try and stop yourself from screaming. You’re so close to coming undone around your boyfriend’s digits, your cunt is sucking him in for dear life. You’re squirming hard now, enough to knock one of the ear buds out, so you can hear the noises in the room a little more clearly.

To your horror, you can hear your own whimpering pretty damn loudly. There’s no way that whoever Sam’s talking to can’t hear that. You hadn’t even realised you were making that much noise.

“I’m telling you, dude, ever since she found your audios online, it’s all she listens to, makes her drip every time,” Sam chuckles, his breathing irregular.

“That’s it baby, you’re gonna fucking cum on my cock.” It’s not all consuming, anymore, but with one earbud in you can still hear the depraved dirty talking, and Sam smirks when he sees your empty ear. “Why don’t you talk to her? Lord knows it gets her off.” Sam’s smirk only gets more smug as he slowly hands you his cell, and you take it from him with a shaking hand. You’d never thought Sam would confront your recent discovery like this. He tugs his tie from your mouth, and your jaw aches a little as you close your mouth slightly, more than you could before and bring the cell to your ear.

“Dean,” you gasp out.

“Hey baby girl,” he chuckles, that same deep voice that had been getting you to the brink of an orgasm bleeds through the phone, and makes you clench around Sam’s fingers again. “My brother tells me you’re a big fan of my work. I saw the photos of you enjoying it.” You whimper. Finding Dean’s dirty little secret had been an accident. Getting off on the sound of your boyfriend’s brother’s voice was the second and bigger accident. The biggest accident though, was leaving the tab open for Sam to find when he came to use the laptop the next day, only to be greeted with the sounds of his brother telling you to suck your fingers clean, and tell him how you taste. What followed that wasn’t an accident at all. Sam had made you listen to every single audio his brother had ever posted publicly, and watched as you came undone to every single one. You’d thought that Sam wouldn’t want Dean to know about this – about his girlfriend’s obsession with his brother’s voice. You’d never imagined Dean ever knowing that you knew his secret.

“He tells me you get off every single time, is that right?”

“Ye-yeah,” you reply shakily.

Dean chuckles, “Did you know it was me?”

“Ye-yeah,” you admit breathily, realising there’s no point denying it, the way Dean asked the question made you sure he already knew the answer, anyway.

“Of course you did, naughty little slut,” Dean growls. You whimper, closing your eyes as Sam curls his fingers again. “I think I deserve to hear the pretty noises you make every time I help you get off, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Dean,” you agree, your head spinning with your impending orgasm.

“Good girl, then you better cum for us now, cum around my brother’s fingers, c’mon.” The other Dean is still plugged into your other ear, grunting and groaning as he ‘fucks you’ and the entire thing is too much.

You cum hard and fast on Sam’s fingers, coating them in slick and juices as Dean hums down the phone in approval. Sam smirks as he brings his dripping fingers up to his mouth and sucks them clean, not taking his eyes off of you.

“So is it just my voice you like?” Dean asks, bringing you back to his voice, “or do you think that maybe next time I could feel that for myself around my cock? I’m sure Sammy wouldn’t mind sharing his little toy with his big brother.” You’re still gasping for air as Sam reaches and retrieves his phone, bringing it back to his ear.

“Alright, you played your part,” he smirks, stroking his cock lazily. “Yeah, maybe,” Sam agrees easily to whatever Dean had said, slowly walking back towards his desk. “I’m gonna go, I’m actually busy today,” he tells him, taking a seat back in his office chair. You can feel the chair soaked beneath you, and despite your recent climax and your trembling legs still hooked over the arms of the armchair, you’re desperate for more. Sam puts his cell down on his desk and looks up at you, smirking hard. He raises his hand, his fingers still glistening with your arousal as he flicks them in a beckoning motion. “Come keep my cock warm whilst I answer these emails,” he commands, pushing back in his chair, “and then maybe when I’m less busy, I’ll fuck you.”

Always and Forevers: @foxyjwls007 / @waywardbaby / @tatted-trina6 / @lunarmoon8 / @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone / @warrior-angel / @impalaspixie / @sexyvixen7

* * *

Supernatural Forevers: @moosekateer13 / @akshi8278 / @notyourtypicalrose / @angelofthetrenchcoats / @pyroqueen-k / @collette04 / @impala1967dwinchester / @blueaura / @beth-winchester21 / @laxe-chester67 / @bobbie3939 / @jaydahlynne / @michellemxndes / @allys-creative-bubble / @squirrelnotsam / @eve-loves-apples / @chocolateheart / @cluz1babe / @musicalraven100 / @iceythelostwinchester / @cutiecowgirl

* * *

Binge Culture Tags: @inquisitor-selvala / @supernatural-bellawinchester

[xenaxena]

Birthday Pie - Dean/Sam Winchester Oneshot

Summary:  No one should be in a bad mood on their birthday, not even the brooding Dean Winchester, and Sam has just the gift; you.

Tags: threesome, sharing, voyeurism, oral (fem rec), p in v, blowjobs, degradation, praise kink, 2ps in 1 v, orgasms, breath play (choking) cum swallowing, cream pie, bad jokes

Word Count: 3900

Requested by: @flamencodiva and @foxyjwls007

A/Ns: This is the second threesome for my 3k Followers threesome celebration! I really enjoyed writing this, it kinda had a mind of its own in the end. Edging was part of the request, but it just didn’t write that way I’m afraid! <3

- - -

Birthday Pie

Keep reading

[xenaxena]

Morals be Damned - Dean / Sam Winchester Oneshot

Summary: A night with one Winchester brother drunk, and the other soulless, leads to some fun; morals be damned.

Characters: Dean x Reader x Soulless!Sam (No Wincest)

Rating: 18+ (swearing and sex)

Tags: Smut, smutty smut, shameless smut, shameless threesome, Winchester sandwich, soulless Sam, drunk Dean, double penetration, two ps in one v, I use the C word several times I never use the C word, tbh I just wanted an excuse to write a Winchester threesome,  fingering, blowjobs, sex, unprotected sex (yeah yeah, you know the drill)

A/N: I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while and I finally got around to writing it. So enjoy.

Main Masterlist

Well, this was new. 

Dean had always imagined what it would be like to finally fuck Y/N. She was funny, over confident, headstrong and so damn stubborn. She didn’t take shit from anyone, particularly the Winchester brothers. And especially now Sam was…different. 

Sam had always known that Dean had a thing for their latest hunting companion. Hell, she almost definitely did too. So after a night out with a LOT of alcohol, when they got back to the cheap and cheerful motel room and Dean walked out of the bathroom to see his little brother all over Y/N, he was rather pissed. Well, as pissed as his drunk mind would let him be. 

“Dude! What are you doing?” Dean spat. Sam pulled his lips off of her, her neck still held between his hands as they both knelt on the bed.  “What?” he pressed. Dean’s green eyes narrowed. 

Keep reading

[xenaxena]

— BLUEBIRD

REQUEST : “Would you be willing to write a Dean and Castiel 3some with female or nb reader? Kinda like a mix between sweet and rough with the guys. Thx in advance and I love your writing!!!” — @madzzz0797

PAIRING : castiel x nb!reader, dean winchester x nb!reader x castiel

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), female anatomy, friends w/benefits, threesome MFM, fluff, Dean in sweatpants, oral sex, vaginal fingering, harddom!cas, sub!reader, softdom!dean, edging, a bit of voyeurism, overstimulation, degradation and praise 🤭, cum eating, cum play 

WORD COUNT : 3.5k

A/N : title from a christina perri song. hi, this was fun to write and thank you so much, i also needed something to restart my motivation 🤭. i think since i wrote this in 2nd POV the reader can be considered non-binary? I hope that’s okay 🫶🏻 i think this is more of a castiel x reader fic bc I've been wanting to write a fic about my angel LOL XX

You had no idea how you ended up in this situation.

You, Dean, and Cas were in the ‘Dean Cave’ watching a horror movie. 

At some point, you pissed Cas off when he said something about the movie was unrealistic. He’d get easily irritated at these movies, frustrated by the uselessness of the characters, or by the overpowering of the villain. You told him to shut up and Dean snorted at you, but Cas glared at you. 

His eyes were narrowed in your direction for a while--for saying that to him and because your comment made Dean laugh at him. Because you jumped at the opportunity to take jabs at him for critiquing the movies both your and Dean loved. Dean never said anything, but you said too much.

It was at the end of the movie when Cas pulled you onto his lap, his lips were everywhere. They were on your neck, biting your shoulder and leaving red marks on your throat. He ripped open the flimsy, buttoned top you were wearing and opened it, his large hands smoothed up the front of your body. Your nipples hardened at the coldness of the air within the concrete walls of the room. Cas’ warm hands held and kneaded your breasts, and from beside you, Dean stared at you with hooded eyes--aroused and surprised. 

You reached back and buried your fingers in Cas’ dark hair, grasping soft strands of his hair between your fingers. You could feel how hard he was under you. Wearing only some plaid shorts, you felt yourself get wet instantly when you circled your hips to feel some friction between your thighs, spreading your legs to feel him better. 

He pinched your nipples murmuring degrading words into your ear and shoved his hand inside your shorts, no underwear to stand in his way. His cold fingers touched the warmth between your legs, making you gasp in surprise, and squirm in his lap. 

“You’re more irritating than Dean,” Cas whispered huskily against your skin. You almost laughed, but you bit down on your lip, and grinned mischievously instead.

Dean palmed his cock over the black sweatpants he was wearing, staring at you as you arched your back, pushing your chest into Cas’ hands. Cas dipped his fingers into your entrance, gathering the slippery liquid of your arousal on his fingertips. You whined softly, whispered his name, begging him to touch you. Your clit throbbed, aching for attention but Cas ignored it and your words, creating a ‘v’ with his fingers slipping through your folds, grazing the sides of your clit. 

You looked to the side at your best friend, his teeth snagged his lip as he watched you, and his cheeks were coloured with a deep red blush that flared up to his ears.  

“You like when Dean watches you as I touch you?” Cas asked, nipping at your earlobe. Dean's eyes snapped up to your face, away from your wriggling hips and arching chest, watching you nod your head in response to Cas’ question. 

Cas removed his hands from your body, to push you off his lap. Your shorts rested haphazardly on your hips and you turned curiously as Cas shrugged the trench coat off his shoulders and started to loosen the tie around his neck. Your eyes darkened and you almost forgot to breathe.

“Sit down.” You did as Cas told you while biting your tongue to stop your snarky reply, and sat down on the armchair he was just sitting in. You rubbed your thighs together, staring up as Castiel slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He was teasing you on purpose, staring into your eyes assertively as he took his sweet time getting to the last few buttons on his white shirt. 

He kept the shirt on, opened up so you could see his tan skin and the taut muscles on his stomach. He only unbuckled his belt and popped the first button, slowly pulling the zipper down before getting down on his knees before you. 

Cas looked up at you indifferently and hooked his fingers into your shorts, pulling them down slowly. He trailed his lips up your thighs and then moved up to chase after the waistband of your shorts as he pulled them lower, pressing open mouth kisses at the exposed skin. Cas’ tongue dipped in between your folds to teasingly press against your clit, causing you to moan and roll your hips upward into his mouth.

Dean moaned softly, too, from beside you, so you turned to watch him curiously. His hand was hidden beneath his sweats, moving along his cock beneath unknown layers, watching you. It made you hornier, wetter, your clit pulsed at the sight of him and then at Cas between your legs. 

He grabbed your knees when your shorts were off, discarding them on the cold floor. Cas spread your legs and lifted them up so they draped over the arms of the chair, but you were a panting mess before he even touched you. 

You whispered Dean’s name, urging him to come to you. With a whine, he slipped his hand out of his pants and almost excitedly made his way over beside you, leaning down he captured your lips in a heated kiss. You gasped into his mouth, and Cas decided to dive into your pussy at that moment, too.

He was merciless, sucking your clit and grasping your hips to keep you still. An iron grip preventing you from moving against his warm mouth, but Dean tongue fucked your mouth into silence, rolling one of your nipples between his rough fingers. 

You placed your hands on Cas’ head, threading your fingers through the dark strands of his short hair. You didn’t tug too hard, knowing Cas would take it as you trying to take control from him, and he’d deny you an orgasm. 

Out of breath, Dean pulled away from you and then lowered his sweatpants and boxers down his thighs. You licked your lips, trying not to close your eyes so you could watch Dean touch himself, his pretty cock leaking precum at the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight of him and you moved forward while your eyes fluttered close, hoping Dean would come closer and put his dick in your mouth. 

He bunched the Henley up his chest and guided his cock into your waiting mouth. He teased you first by tracing your lips with the tip, leaving you mouth covered in a thin layer of his arousal. A shaky little breath from between your lips made him shiver, but the feel of his warmth parting your mouth made you moan around him instantly.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Dean gasped, gripping the hair at the top of your head once his cock slipped between your lips. 

Meanwhile, Cas rested his arm over your thighs rather than holding you down with two hands. With one hand free, his long fingers played with the wetness and saliva he left behind on your folds, getting them lathered up before pushing them inside your leaking cunt. 

Dean guided your mouth in his cock and you opened your eyes to watch him. His head was thrown back and his mouth was open, little gasps and moans of pleasure slipping out of him as he pushed your head onto him. You forced yourself forward, taking him deeper. A loud grunt vibrated through his chest and he praised you, unlike Cas. 

“That’s right, baby, take my cock all the way. Fuck.”

You knew if you spoke your snide thoughts Cas would leave you without an orgasm with Dean’s heavy cock in your mouth. The pleasure felt too good, you refused to say anything that would prevent you from reaching the ultimate high. Cas’ tongue felt amazing massaging your clit and his fingers were shoved deep inside of you, the pads of his fingers finding multiple sensitive spots that you couldn’t find otherwise with your own hands. 

Eventually, Dean had shoved his cock so far down your throat your nose would press against his soft skin. Your eyes watered as you became out of breath, gagging occasionally around him, but he seemed to enjoy it more. Your throat made a completely obscene sound and Dean sometimes pulled you off his dick to let you breath, edging himself. 

You opened your eyes to gaze at Dean. He heaved above you, his fingers gripping his shirt in place and your hair tightly, almost painfully. Even Cas moaned softly against your pussy, sucking your clit, or grazing the sensitive nerve with his teeth. You moaned loudly when you blinked tears away, your thighs twitching at the thought of being used completely by your two hot, best friends. 

“Are you going to orgasm already?” Cas murmured mockingly against your clit. You whined around Dean, who then pulled out of your mouth so you could respond to Cas. You let out a breathy ‘yes’ and moved one of your hands up to your breast and away from Cas’ now-messy hair, tweaking and pinching your nipple. 

Dean guided his cock back into your mouth and just then Cas said, “don’t let Dean cum yet.” Dean groaned in irritation and slowed down the bob of your head on his cock, his thighs tense and his stomach tightened. 

“Fuck,” Dean whispered, “just cum, sweetheart.” Cas looked up at you and he nodded his head in approval, signalling for you to orgasm. Your body became stiff at first and Dean removed his cock from your mouth as you moaned loudly. Dean slid his hands down your body, his touch intensifying your pleasure and you let go completely. Cas sucked loudly at your pussy as you shook, gasping his name.

You squirmed, trying to push him away, but he smirked, and continued to suck your swollen, sensitive clit. You cried out and whined, writhing, trying to get away, but he kept you in place. Dean chuckled at the sight of you and lifted his pants. He leaned back down, this time, to slip your nipple into his mouth, he lapped at it lewdly, left it coated in his saliva and sucked on it while pinching the other one softly. 

You whined when Cas found a new rhythm on your clit, his fingers pumped into you roughly, wet and loud. His saliva and your cum coated his fingers, dripping down to his palm and you came again, unexpectedly but less intensely than the first time. Dean moved away from you and bit his lip to look at you as you orgasmed for the second time within minutes after the first. 

You tried to relax as Cas trailed his wet lips down the inside of your thighs, soothing your restless body. You shut your legs as soon as he moved out from between them. His mouth was wet still, his lips dark pink and swollen, his hair a tousled mess. He cleaned it up with his shirt, lifting his shoulder to his mouth in two swipes. He watched you squeeze your thighs and rub them together in the armchair he usually sits in. 

“We’re not done with your, yet,” Cas told you flatly. You stared up at him, not knowing how to respond, especially as he lowered his black slacks and his boxers low enough to release his cock. Dropping your gaze down to his cock, your oversensitive clit throbbed and your pussy clenched around nothing. “Get up,” he ordered, then bit his lip as he thumbed the head of his cock, spreading the precum that dripped from the slit. 

You scrambled up off the armchair on shaky legs, thankful that Cas caught you with his arms around your waist to kiss you passionately. He hummed softly, tasting Dean on your tongue, and you moaned against his mouth, kissing him hungrily despite tasting yourself. He shoved the unbuttoned sleep shirt from your form and once it was on the floor, your hands slid down the front of his body, feeling the smoothness of his body, then moved up to brush against his nipples. 

Dean eventually found his place behind you, his hands mimicked yours. He dropped kisses along your shoulders and your back, both of his skilful hands cupping your breasts, teasingly ghosting his thumbs over your nipples. 

You couldn’t decide whether to grind back against Dean or rub yourself up against Cas. But Cas chose for you, the three of you moved smoothly, Cas spun you around so he could sit down. He pulled away from your lips and you were trapped in a daze when he did, trying to focus on what was going to happen next. 

“You’re a whore,” Cas said suddenly. It made your cheeks flare up and Dean's lips froze on your shoulder blade. “You’re letting both your friends use you for pleasure,” he stated bluntly, even while staring up at you, he still had more power than you could ever possess when you had sex with each other. “You like that, don’t you? Switching that mouth of yours between Dean’s cock and then mine?” Your eyes darkened with lust and you didn’t even deny it. His words made you more aroused than you already were and Dean must have known because he grabbed your hair and tugged on it to roughly bite down on your neck. “Spreading your legs and letting either one of us fuck you until you have an orgasm so intense you pass out? Over and over.” Dean smirked against your skin and laughed through his nose, which made you feel hotter and wetter. “How many times have you come to me to make you orgasm? How many times did you go to Dean when I wasn’t there?”

You were breathing heavily by the end of his speech, your knees felt weak and you were already considering getting down on your knees to suck him off when Castiel opened his mouth again to demand, “get down on your knees. Taste me, let me fuck your dirty, whore mouth.” Cas stopped jerking himself off to hold a silent conversation with Dean, tipping his head towards where his coat was. 

He was much nicer to Dean which irritated you. When you curiously looked away from Cas to watch what Dean was doing, you did it to make Cas angry, to tease him the way he’d done to you. Dean rifled through the pockets until he pulled out Castiel’s wallet, searching through cards, cropped photos, and a dry flower to pull out a square foil. A condom. 

“Awesome,” Dean announced with a grin, which made you smile.

Cas diverted your attention away from Dean with a yank of your hair. You whined and narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t care, he smirked at you and shimmied his hips downward and pulled your face forward until you were close enough to his cock that he could tap your lips with the soft head. 

Your mouth watered quickly and your knees ached from the concrete beneath you.

“Hey, let me put this under you. The floor’s gonna hurt your knees.” You glanced at Dean, keeping Cas’ dick close enough to your mouth that he could continue playing with you. Dean brought Cas’ coat over to you, rolled up nicely and you let him place it where your knees were. 

Cas didn’t let you thank Dean, instead guided your mouth to wrap around the tip of his leaking cock. He controlled what you did and you willingly let him do what he wanted to your mouth. You salivated around him, sucking softly, licking the slit to taste everything that he had. 

“Ready?” Dean asked you. Having stripped off his own clothes to use it for his own knees, before slipping on the condom and settling behind you. You moaned wantonly in response, but Dean chose to tease you first. He slid his cock between your folds, rubbing against your clit with a moan. You whined around Cas’ cock, impatiently wiggling your ass so Dean could take you, but Cas shoved your face down all the way down his dick, muffling any other whines and moans. 

“You told me to shut up,” he told you breathlessly, “I’ll teach you to shut up with my cock in your mouth.” You whimpered quietly, tears stinging your eyes from how unexpectedly Cas was holding you down on him. You ached for Dean to fill you up, aroused as you felt Cas’ dick move down your throat, only to pull you up and then back down again.

“So wet,” Dean moaned softly, then moved to give you what you wanted. He slowly and gently pushed into your wet hole, unlike Cas. Dean’s thumbs brushed against your hips and he moved forward until he was buried into you as deeply as he could go. “You feel so good,” Dean continued to praise you, deviating from the harsh way Cas pushed your head down his cock. 

Soon, both of your friends were fucking you earnestly at both ends. Dean rolled his hips slowly and deeply, constantly hitting that perfect spot inside your walls with each thrust. He gripped your hips tightly but his sweet words eased your mind and soothed your ego as you pleased them both and let them please you.

You couldn’t focus on them separately. You could feel them everywhere, all at once. Dean's hands roamed, from squeezing and pulling at your tits, to rubbing your clit. You felt worshipped, even though Cas was being rough with his hands and harsh with his words. You could feel Dean throb inside your pussy, the same way Cas’ cock throbbed in your mouth. 

Cas’ grip on your hair didn’t let up, edging between pleasure and pain. The thought of the three of you coming at the same time aroused you. Without Cas’ guidance you sucked and took him down your throat enthusiastically. Despite the harsh words that he grunted at you when Dean went quiet to moan and pant.

You took Cas’ words as praise because you must be making him feel so good all he could think of were filthy things to throw at you. With his cock throbbing in your mouth and Dean’s throbbing in your tightening pussy, you moaned a warning of your orgasm. Dean picked up the pace, his fingers focusing on your clit, and Cas relaxed completely beneath you.

Your muffled cry made Cas cum and in turn, the flutter of your pussy around Dean drove him over the edge. Just as you wanted, the three of you moaned, gasped, and groaned in pleasure. Cas pulled out of your mouth, giving you only half of his release and then came on your lips, part of your face, and your chest. As soon as Dean pulled out of you, Cas moved you up into his lap, holding your face gently as he gathered his cum and made you eat it. 

You licked his fingers, swallowed the come he gathered from your skin, and scooted forward to rub yourself on his cock. “Still not satisfied?” He teased you, letting you suck and lick his fingers as you’d done to his dick. 

Dean discarded the condom and laughed boisterously from where he stood. You let go of Cas’ thumb to raise a brow at Dean, offended. 

“You can’t laugh at me when you get laid way more than I do,” you complained, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I haven’t had that much sex these past few years. That thing with the Amazons was scary,” Dean admitted, with a shrug and a tight smile. “Also, I dunno if you noticed but the end of the world constantly, almost happening, is such a boner-killer. And I’m only surrounded by you guys. I don't really have time to go out and chase tail in between killing monsters and then saving everyone.”

“What about that girl you're calling and texting?” You asked, confusion taking your mind away from Cas’ roaming hands. 

“Not official at all... It’s too complicated.” Dean turned away and started to gather his clothes. You figured he was hoping to change or avoid the subject by ignoring the two of you, by leaving before you could keep prying. 

“Dean’s too afraid to make a move. Even his mom likes her, which is far more intimidating to Dean because he thinks he’s going to ruin it the way he thinks he always does. And if his mom sees what he sees in himself, it’ll feel much worse,” Cas explained to you brusquely. You looked at Cas with a frown.

“Thanks, man,” Dean replied sarcastically. 

“You’re welcome,” Cas responded. You couldn’t tell if Cas was being witty or serious when he said that, but you snickered anyway. 

“Okay, I’m gonna shower and sleep, ‘cause I’m.. old. Have fun!” Dean almost ran out of the Dean Cave but he backtracked and made his way back to you. He pressed a long and affectionate kiss to your forehead and grinned down at you playfully. You smiled and watched him leave, sexy and still naked with his clothes in his arms.

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @kellynickelss @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @jessllianaquilesrolonworld @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

[xenaxena]

—  DREAM BOY

SUMMARY : bathrooms can be interesting sometimes.

PAIRING : stanfordera!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : john winchester 

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), stanford era dean, fingering, oral sex (m. receiving), glory hole, overstimulation, unprotected p in v (almost)

WORD COUNT : 2.9k

A/N : waterparks song title. here it is, @suckitands33, a glory hole Dean fic. yo, these physics classes are sucking the creativity out of me, lmao X

“Holy shit, babe,” Dean laughed, his shoulder and cheek holding his phone to his ear. 

“What?” You laughed despite not knowing what amused him. 

Dean held the door of the bathroom stall open and continued to snicker, “come upstairs.” 

“No,” you whined, “I wanna go already.” Dean could hear you grunt and pull something heavy across the floor. He continued to grin anyway, his cheeks flushed and hot.

“Please?” He pouted even though you couldn’t see him. He let the door go to continue looking around, trying to hold back his laughter. Your small sigh made him bite his lip excitedly. 

“Fine,” you groaned, something heaving dropping to the floor soon after. He held his phone to his ear as he kept looking around thoroughly, his quick eyes taking in the entirety of the brightly lit bathroom. 

Pink and blue lights lined the mirrors, glitter was scattered over the floor, graffiti and stickers covered the walls. There were even lewd paintings hung up on the wall where the mirrors and the entrance was. They were small, but they were clean and unsoiled for the most part in comparison to the rest of the bathroom. 

The door squeaked open and then turned to look over his shoulder. You stood at the entrance holding the door open with your foot. You looked sour, but he planned on changing that. 

“What?” You frowned as you slipped inside and let the door slam shut behind you. Dean flipped his phone shut and shoved it into his jacket with a flirty smirk. You smiled at him instantly, your eyes shining brighter than the lights in the bathroom. “What?” you asked again, but your voice was just as flirty as he felt. You met him half way and let him wrap his arms around your waist. 

“You look pretty,” he murmured, brushing the warm skin above the waistband of your jeans. You narrowed your eyes, suspiciously pulling away from him. He held you tighter, pulling you back in, and slid his hands up higher to play with the seam of your bra. 

“I’m wearing your shirt—which doesn't even fit me and it has a cum stain, I’m pretty sure—a stupidly old flannel, which you wiped your fingers on after you ate your burger… and some boring-ass jeans,” you reminded him. 

“Yeah, and these jeans make your ass look fantastic,” he snorted and pulled his hands out from under your shirt to slap your ass with both of his hands. You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck with a shake of your head. 

“You didn’t make me come up here just to say that, did you?” You lifted a brow at him and carded your fingers through the short hair behind his head. He shuddered when your nails gently scratched his scalp and he leaned forward to kiss you. He felt your little smile against his mouth and his stomach fluttered at the softness of your lips against his. The way you cupped his face with your small hands and pulled him closer, the feeling of your tongue easily slipping past his chapped lips…

Suddenly, he forgot why he asked you to come up. 

He had you pressed against the bathroom stall nearest to the door and his hands travelled beneath your clothes to feel your warm skin. He dragged his lips desperately down your neck, sucking and licking at your smooth skin. Your little moans made his cock harder and your hands began to play with his belt. 

He was short of breath and painfully aroused, but his fingers worked quickly at the button of your jeans to zip them down. He turned you around and you laughed breathlessly as he struggled to get your jeans down your thighs. 

“Hey, there’s a hole,” your voice broke the trance he was in while he was on his knees behind you. He pouted and bit your ass over your underwear in retaliation, which made you moan.

“Yeah, I’m trying to get my dick into it, sweetheart-” 

“I meant in the stall,” you tittered, parting your legs. Dean looked between them, at the hole you were referring to, the hole he had called you up for. 

“Oh, right,” he grinned, getting up from the floor to grasp your hips. Slowly his hand sneaked to the front of your pussy, his fingers teased your clit over the damp cloth and you whined softly. “Wanna use it?” He smirked, sneaking his fingers into the stretchy waistband to dip his fingers into your dripping entrance. 

“But I’m so horny,” you complained, wrapping your fingers around his larger hand to control the way he played with your cunt. 

“Please, suck my dick,” he pouted, dropping his chin on your shoulder while he grazed your clit with two wet fingers. He ignored the tickle of your hair against his nose and pressed his face closer to your ear.

“Isn’t it better when you don’t know who’s sucking your dick?” Your voice hitched and his cock throbbed, but he continued to tease you, hoping he’d get you to change your mind. 

You writhed and moaned softly, with each precise movement of his fingers. You pussy clamped down around his fingers when he buried them inside you, scissoring and thrusting into your gushing cunt until he made you cum with three thick fingers shoved deep inside you. 

“Fine,” you panted for breath, squeezing his hand between your thighs when he continued flicking your sensitive clit with his fingers coated in your cum. “‘S’long as I’m in the stall, pretty boy,” you chuckled, starting to lift your jeans up your legs when he slipped his hand out of your underwear.

“Awesome,” Dean exhaled, instantly placing his lips on yours when you turned around to face him again. You managed to unbuckle his belt while his clean hand gripped your chin, his tongue messily moving into your mouth. 

Once you opened up his jeans, he shoved his soiled fingers into his boxers and wrapped them around his cock. His belt buckle clinked with each stroke and your stomach tightened, a new wave of arousal ruining your underwear. The sound of skin on skin, and fabric rustling beneath thrilled you farther. 

“Hurry up,” you mumbled against his mouth, hesitantly slipping away from him to get into the stall. He kissed you quickly before you could get away farther and smiled cutely at the blush-y, smiley expression on your face. 

The way your lovely hair fell over your eyes made him breathless and he was almost disappointed when you, your painted lips, curled lashes, and big soft eyes disappeared from his line of sight. 

He saw your knees and the shadow of them beneath the stall and your fingers playfully curling in a come hither motion that made his smile bigger. Excitement thrummed through his body before he fully got his cock through the hole in the stall. 

He felt your warm breath against the throbbing tip, he could feel how much of his precum was dripping out of the slit. The bathroom became a thousand times hotter and he pressed his forehead to the stall, his breath hitching when he felt your lips kiss the tip gently. 

Your tongue gently poked at the head to press into the slit, his knees buckled, and then you pulled away. He heard you spit and tensed in anticipation before he felt the warmth of your saliva on his cock. He wanted to see you, to wrap his hand around his dick, and push it into your reddish-pinkish mouth. 

You always looked pretty with your lips around his cock, with your cheeks flushed, your cute eyes all wide and watery when he pushed himself down your throat, and your lashes sticking together from your tears. He was really starting to regret not being able to see you. 

Dean hissed out a curse when you wrapped your fingers around his erection, wiping your spit along to make each stroke smooth and quick. He didn’t think your spit was necessary, he could feel his cock leak and wet itself with precum, but maybe the thought of your spit getting smeared all over his sensitive skin was turning him on that much. 

You gripped him firmly, your softer fingers moving up and down his shaft made his hips jerk forward. The stall shook slightly, but you kept taking your time and he was getting impatient, but the rub of the pad of your finger against his slit made his breath come out unevenly. The layers of clothes made him almost too uncomfortable. And he wanted to break through the thin wall keeping you from him when you teasingly, repeatedly rubbed beneath the crown of his head until he was raw and sensitive. 

He whined and you laughed, and he laughed after you did because you sounded adorable on the other side. You switched and started to stroke the entirety of his cock, from the base to the tip. He wished he could see your pretty hands holding him, even if your nail polish was chipped and your nails were uneven from constant breakage. 

Only you had the pleasure of seeing that image. It was an embarrassing switch when his hot, silky cock started to feel sticky against your smooth palm. Your warm breath and the soft kisses to his cock made him produce more precum. Or maybe his penis readily leaked for you, that was a more likely culprit. 

Dean breathed heavily with each slippery tug of his pulsing cock, the tightening of your fingers around him. Particularly against the thick vein along the underside. He gasped when you wrapped your hot mouth around the tip, your lips locking beneath the crown. His chest heaved and he couldn’t find anything to hold onto as the rest of his throbbing cock slid through your small fist. 

You pull away, your lips teasingly closing around the tip, but not on the leaking slit. He pressed his burning cheek to the cool stall as frustration built, and your thumb gathered more of the clear fluid that dribbled from the wet head of Dean’s dick. He can’t see you when your grip turns loose but his eyes fall shut and his mouth splits open when you begin smoothing your slick palm over the tip at a faster pace.

When your mouth returns, Dean doesn’t think he’d last much longer. The suction of your mouth on his cock causes his stomach to tighten, and his balls draw in, and he’s squirming helplessly against the wall he’s pressed himself into. His hips buck his cock into the hole and into your mouth, and your tongue and fingers work together to touch every inch of him. 

You knowingly flick your tongue along the glans and Dean holds his breath which makes his lungs burn for breath and his chest hitches with a sudden breath. You lap up the new wave of precum leaking from the opening and continue to suck his cock until Dean’s brain turns to mush inside his skull. Dean’s teeth pressed firmly into his lip and his brows furrowed in concentration, his mind hyper-focused on your wet mouth, your swift tongue, and soft fingers. 

Dean's thighs are tense and his hips continue to move, somewhat halted by the wall as breaths get punched out of him. You drive him crazy and you overstimulate his glans with the hyper-fixated stoke of your tongue and he whimpered out a fuck. He could feel your laugh vibrate through him and you show him mercy by tonguing the pulsing vein beneath his cock instead, your tight fist twisting upwards after your mouth. 

Dean pressed his other cheek to the wall to stare at the bathroom mirror. It felt cool against his hot, red skin and he pictured fucking you right there. You started up faster and rougher, taking Dean’s cock down into your throat. Simultaneously a wave of curses and praises started to explode from Dean’s mouth. He didn’t realise he was talking until he gasped your name and called you a good girl, and boy did it drive you crazy. 

His abs became tense and he found himself holding his breath as he concentrated too hard on the pleasure of your deliciously wet mouth over his hard, throbbing cock. And gasps escaped his lips, similar to the punched out breaths that would involuntarily escape his throat when he was thrown into a wall by some monster. 

When he finally comes, Dean’s whole body convulses.

He’s driven by the obscene sound of his cock pushing fast into your throat, and the constriction around his cock after each swallow. He inhales and his cock turns harder than it was for a fraction of a second, and then he comes. You suck desperately for everything he’s got and your fingers squeeze him so his brain nearly topples out of his ears. He whimpers again as his muscles become taut, and his eyes squeeze shut, while his come spurts out onto your tongue and into your throat. 

He can feel you swallowing his warm cum and your fingers come loose, they move slower and your mouth follows just as leisurely. Dean breaths shakily and your name slips past his lips while you stroke and mouth his cock through his orgasm, until his cum spills out slower and in smaller quantities.

And it’s over. The warmth of your mouth and your fingers disappears and Dean turns to lean against the wall with his arm thrown over his eyes. He pants for breath as he comes down from his mind numbing orgasm, and he grins. 

His eyes snap open when he feels your lips above the thick path of short hair on his pelvic bone. Dean’s cock was still throbbing, but much gentler than before. 

“Your dick looks sorta perfect and beautiful,” you grin up at him, carefully pressing kisses along his softening length. Dean inhales and watches you kiss his twitching cock. He wanted to laugh, but you looked way too sexy and you snatched the words from his mouth when you gazed up at him through your lashes. His eyes flickered down to his cock; he’s thick and slightly curved, but he’s instantly focused on you again. 

You look as beautiful as he imagined, as he’d remembered, with your cheeks a deeper colour and your eyes stained with tears. Dean takes your face in his large hand and swipes his thumb carefully over your soft, swollen lips. You get up from the floor quickly and your knees are covered with glitter which makes him smile. But before he could properly thank you for sucking him off through a hole in the wall, you pressed your wet lips against his. 

Dean worked quickly at your jeans again and pulled them down your legs along with your underwear. He could feel the hitch in your breath when he sucked your tongue into his mouth and shoved the flannel off your shoulders to throw it over the stall. Your hands clung to his thick flannel and you moaned softly into his mouth, the cool air hitting your weeping folds. 

His sensitive cock brushed against the oversized shirt you were wearing, cotton igniting the hardness of his dick. He didn’t think he could handle it, but the thought of sinking into your wet heat made his heart stutter in his chest. He unhooked your bra under the shirt and you swiftly pulled it out from underneath to join your flannel. 

Dean gripped his pulsing cock at the base and when he pushed it through your dewy folds he knew he was done for. He slowly slid his hand up your body and the black shirt pooled around his wrist as he moved higher and higher. He exposed every inch of your warm, velvety skin until he got to your breasts. 

You clung to his jacket with both hands while he pinched and rolled your nipple between his fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut and Dean carefully pushed his cock into your vagina, moaning softly as it squeezed around him. 

The door of the bathroom was pushed open and two men slipped inside. One wore colourful makeup with a smirk on his glittery green lips when he saw Dean holding you close to him. The other looked away awkwardly, a nervous laugh slipping past his lips, but what made Dean clam up was his father holding the door open. 

“Shit, my dad,” he muttered into your hair. Your head snapped in the direction of the entrance where John’s icy glare pierced through Dean. Your eyes widened but you couldn’t help the giggle from bursting out of you as Dean’s cock slipped out of your pussy. 

John let the door fall shut loudly and Dean stumbled as he lifted his pants up and shoved his cock back inside his boxers. 

“Dean, slow down,” you laughed, lifting your jeans up with a bit of a struggle. “Your dad already knows we fuck, who cares?” You tried to soothe him and took your clothes from where it was thrown over the wall of the stall. 

He washed his hands and chewed on his lips, staring at you through the mirror. “You know how he gets. I have to focus on the job…” he murmured dismissively. You softened a little and then smiled, shoving him playfully to the side to wash your own hands. 

“I’d rather you pound me into a bed anyway, or the backseat of the Impala,” you teased, flicking water in his face. He closed his eyes as he grinned, but when he opened them, you were taking paper towels to dry your hands near the entrance. You handed him a few and Dean relaxed slightly, taking them from you with a kiss planted firmly on your forehead. 

“I can’t wait,” he whispered. 

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld @angelbabyyy99 @girls-alias @impala1967rollingthroughtown @kezibear @kaleldobrev @iwishiwasntreal @pasteldecrack @blackcherrywhiskey @dayhsdreaming @littlemadamred @xshortputax @imsapphine

or follow @deanbrainrotlibrary for fic notifications

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

month of love 2024 masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform