Used to have the account of @clarawolf09 but tumblr won’t let me login and wont even let me contact support. So this account will possibly be temporary, if I can possibly get my other account back.
Synopsis: The Captain doesn't play about his wife.
A/N: Hello!! My second call of duty fic! Woohoo!! Working through some old drafts of mine too currently really trying to get more into this again! Requests for call of duty are open!
Warnings: mentions of gun use, cursing, angst, fluff, wife reader, mentions of violence,fighting, creeps
Masterlist
John had warned you that your forgetfulness would get you in trouble one day if you weren't careful.
You didn't think that would be today though and honestly this wouldn't have happened if he hadn't forgotten his document folder at home.
Due to him forgetting first you now sat in a military prison cell shaking from the cold air. Also terrified of the other people they had in here waiting to be moved out.
You tugged at the cuffs behind your back again wincing as they dug into your wrist. A man in his cuffs across from you smiled chuckling below his breath.
"How did a sweet thing like you get locked in here huh?" His gruff voice rung out through the cell. The other two men looked at you too awaiting your answer.
You nervously swallowed grimacing looking at the three men, thankfully, also cuffed behind their backs like you. They all gave a smile to each other as if coming to a consensus that they'd get along just to make you squirm.
It was a good question the man had asked though.
How did you end up here?
The day had started out normal enough, you woke up early to send John off to work. You always made sure to wake up just to send him off. Even though, he'd rather you sleep in.
You always did have trouble falling back to sleep after he left, but still made it a point to get up to kiss him goodbye.
A tradition you had no intent to break.
"You'll call me if you need anything?" John murmured against your lips pulling back to caress your cheek. A tired smile formed on your face as you nodded.
"Yes love you..Don't forget anything." You warned him. John shook his head gently slapping your rear before pulling back from the bed.
"I don't forget things. You do dear." He chuckled walking towards the door. "I love you." He called out closing the door after.
Your husband wasn't lying about that either.
He swore your head wasn't screwed on right sometimes. It would be your phone, your wallet, and your keys.
John hated when it was your keys.
There's been too many times he's had to go take the extra one to you because you locked yourself out, but he went each time no matter what.
Because of how much he loved you.
His sanctuary.
The calm that he needed after all the rough missions he did for work.
His forgetful wife.
John didn't care if you forgot even though he'd lecture you constantly. He would still go each time then let you struggle.
Struggling for you was a no no in his book. He had promised you that his wife would never have any troubles with him around.
Especially if he knew he'd be gone for a long deployment.
He always left an emergency fund in your purse incase you forgot your wallet. He had an alarm on your phone that would ring if you got too far from it so you wouldn't leave it.
His phone had an app on it that allowed your car to unlock if he was from a distance from you now. If on the off chance you managed to lock yourself out again.
You'd been getting better with it, but John more often then not had to still go help you sometimes. It made you feel guilty at times, but he always assured you.
No matter what he would come for you. Even if it was a paper cut and you called he would come home for that.
This morning though, he had been the forgetful one. John internally cursed himself once he made it to the base. The mission debrief paperwork for his afternoon meeting was sitting on his desk in his office at home.
He dreaded troubling you, but knew with his schedule he wouldn’t have time to go get it. The papers being that important though, left him no choice but to call you.
Obviously you didn't mind. You were ecstatic to be the one going to help your husband this time.
"Now when you get to the front. Just tell them that you're there to see me alright love and then I'll go for you." John spoke warmly through the phone.
"Okay honey. I'll be there soon." You promised him. "I'll be okay too on the drive." You reassured him after already knowing what was coming.
"You minx couldn't even let me say it." He shook his head. "Humor me though and call me once you're here."
"I will now bye." You hung up before he could continue his lecture. That was your mistake though.
You set your phone down on the counter walking to his office to grab the folder. Too excited to go see John, you forgot to grab your phone again on your way out.
You hadn't noticed until you were already halfway there. It shouldn't matter though. John had told you to let them know you were there to see him.
Once you arrived, you walked to the gate smiling at the three recruits standing at the front. You made sure to come dressed nice too. It wasn’t often you got to visit your husband while he worked.
One of the recruits smoking a cigarette raised an eyebrow though once you approached.
"Um hi so sorry to bother, but I'm delivering this for Captain John Price." You greeted them holding the folder on your side.
They eyed you suspiciously immediately on guard. No one ever came to see John Price unless they themselves were military. You adjusted your stance growing nervous under their gaze.
"What business do you have with the captain?" The one in the middle spoke up moving to stand in front of you. You looked up at him pointing at the folder.
"He asked me to bring this for him-"
"Lies." The one on the right interrupted you. "Captain wouldn't trust a civilian to deliver an item for him."
"No you misunderstand-"
"A pretty thing like you too? You have to be a spy." The one standing on the left moved closer. They were cornering you. You took an instinctive step back.
"Look listen I'm his wife! He asked me to bring these documents for him! You could call him and ask-" One of them moved closer ripping the folder from your arm.
"Hey give that back! It's his!" You tried to grab it yelping as the one who had spoke first shoved you back roughly. A small wince leaving you as your back hit the floor.
They opened the file reading it over. Their eyes widening. These paper works were mission reports for the task force. No one, but the captain should have these.
"How did you get these?" The recruit on the left yelled at you standing over you as you scrambled to get back up from the rough shove. You winced seeing the scrape on your arm bleeding.
"I'm telling you. He's my husband! I didn't even open the folder! He just asked me to come drop them off-"
"Nice try!" The recruit standing to the right began to laugh shaking his head. "A man like the Captain wouldn't have a wife."
Your eyes narrowed now. "Don't insult my husband that way. I am his wife. Look I have my wallet-" You dug through your bag realizing your wallet with your ID was sitting in your car.
You had taken it out when you stopped at the gas station to fuel up before driving up here.
"Yeah like I thought you're scrambling to come up with a lie. We'll have to take you into custody since you had highly sensitive information!" The one who had shoved you yelled in your face.
"No call him! Or Lieutenant Riley! He'll know who I am too!" You weakly spoke wincing as the other two grabbed your arms to hold you back.
The one who had shoved you moved behind you cuffing your arms uncaring of the scrape bleeding on your arm.
"Please don't do this.." You asked them shaking now in slight fear. They ignored your roughly dragging you to the cells. The guard watching the prisoners below you both had raised a questioning eyebrow once he saw you.
He swore he recognized you from somewhere.
"We have a spy who was holding secret documents." The recruit who had shoved you spoke showing the folder. "We'll tell one of the sergeants and the lieutenant when we see them for now keep this spy here!"
He pushed you into the cell. You looked around surrounded by three other people who had been taken in. Big burly men who were now looking at you like a meal.
That's what led to now.
You sitting in the cell shaking. You looked at the guard. "Please this is a misunderstanding just call one of the commanding officers since you won't call the captain. Don't I get a phone call actually too!"
"Not a normal prison m'am." The guard spoke standing outside.
Tears welled in your eyes now as you looked down. John had been right. Your forgetfulness did get you in trouble.
One of the men in the cell moved sitting two feet from you now. You scooted to the corner hoping someone you knew would come soon.
John was getting worried now. He knew from the time you should've made it to the base by now. His hand stayed on his phone in his pocket anxiously. Not waiting anymore, he pulled it out trying to call you just to receive nothing but your voicemail.
John didn't like this. Something was off.
The recruit who had the file and who had been one of the people who had you locked up smiled proudly as he walked into Lieutenant Riley's office.
"Lieutenant I am proud to say that we caught a spy at the gates." He spoke up smiling.
Ghost locked up instantly hearing his words. A spy here?
That didn't happen often.
"What was that?" He asked again wanting to make sure he heard correctly. Soap who had been sitting in the desk next to Ghost immediately looked up now catching the conversation.
"A spy? Why would a spy try going through the front gate?" Soap looked at Ghost. They both nodded moving to stand.
"Did you lock up this spy?" Soap asked him now reaching for the folder to look through it.
The recruit nodded eagerly almost excited to be recognized for his hard work. He handed the folder to Soap. "Yeah some stupid women. Thought she could lie her way in. Tried using her pretty looks to trick us." He scoffed.
"A women brought these?" Soap asked him immediately alert.
These files were the ones Price had informed them that he had forgotten at home. He said they were getting delivered.
"Yeah she put up a fight too. We locked her up with the other three prison mates. Hopefully those animals teach her a lesson." The recruit smiled unknowing of the mistake he was making.
There's only one person they knew who could deliver these. The same women who always sent extra food with Price's lunch incase one of them didn't have food.
The same women who invited them over and cooked them dinner at least once a week when they had time.
Ghost tensed once he read the folder after Soap passed them. "Johnny." He spoke once.
"On it L.T." He raced out of the room already rushing to the prison cells. The recruit raised an eyebrow watching Soap run out of the room.
Ghost looked at him grimly, "Sit down now. I'm calling the other two recruits." He ordered out. "And Captain." He sighed out knowing the hell that was going to break loose once Price heard about this.
Soap rushed into the prison cell. His eyes widened once he saw you. You looked terrified and battered. "Christ I was hoping it really was a spy."
"Oh thank god!" You stood up immediately seeing him. "Please-"
"I'm on it don't worry." He reassured you looking at the guard. "Let her out right now."
"What?" The guard asked in confusion. "She hasn't been interrogated."
"I wasn't asking." Soap looked at him angrily. "This women isn't meant to be down here. Now let her out. That's an order." He grabbed the keys from the guard himself opening it. "Come on lass."
The guard's eyes widened now recognizing you now. John had a small picture of you in his office in the back. He kept it small not wanting the risk of anyone fully finding you.
You sniffled holding your tears back standing up to leave. Soap winced seeing the bruises left on your arms and the scrape on your elbow. He undid the cuffs on you wrapping his arm around your shoulder to lead you away.
Once you left the cells you spoke again, "Johnny..I left my wallet in my car so I couldn't show my ID and they didn't believe me." Your voice cracked.
"It's alright okay. We're already telling Captain what happened." Soap explained gently guiding you to Ghost's office.
You tensed seeing the three recruits who had locked you in the cell sitting there. Their eyes widened once they saw you. Ghost let out a long exhale seeing the state you were in.
"I'm sorry we didn't get to you sooner." The recruits looked in shock hearing the infamous Ghost genuinely apologizing to someone.
"It's okay. Where's John?" You asked him wiping your tears away.
"On his way. Just need you to confirm. These the men that locked you up?" Ghost asked you. Soap moved to stand beside Ghost now glaring angrily at the men.
You nodded looking at them. "Yes they are..they shoved me to the ground and locked me up." A small cry escaped from you. Ghost nodded seeing the way your shoulders shook.
"It's alright Mrs. Price." He emphasized your last name glaring holes into the men. They all froze hearing him say your name before looking at each other.
"What?" One of them spoke up in shock. The other two grew tense. "You're joking right?" The one who spoke looked at them.
Soap laughed darkly just as angry as Simon was. The first thing John had ever told them when they met you was that your safety when you were on base and off base was their top priority above anything else.
You were beloved by the team.
"Oh my god." You looked up seeing John standing at the door in shock. Gaz was behind him having followed seeing John run this way after Simon's call.
"Love.." He breathed out immediately at your side. John let out a deep breath caressing your wet cheeks. "Who did this?" He growled out looking at the team.
Simon pointed at the three recruits. John glared at them watching the three men begin to squirm realizing the huge mistake they made.
"You made my wife bleed." His voice rang out through the quiet room. John inspected the scrape on your elbow and the bruises.
"They had her locked in the cells with the other prisoners too." Soap grinned staring at the recruits with a smug expression.
"You mean to tell me the three disgusting men we caught not too long ago were close to her?" John's voice boomed out angrily. His hands shook as he held your cheeks.
He took in a deep breath more to calm himself not wanting you to see him this way. Not his pretty wife who looked so shaken.
"C'mon love let's go." He gave you a small smile helping you stand. "Lieutenant. Keep them here until I return. Soap and Garrick if they try to run tie them down." John glared at the men again leading you out.
He walked you to his office gently sitting you down in his comfy chair he kept for himself to take naps in if he needed it. His hands inspected your skin.
"Oh my sweet love I'm so sorry.." He whispered seeing the wounds you sustained. "You're not hurt anywhere else are you?" He asked you.
"No no John I'm okay-"
"Don't lie to me. I can see it from here that you're not okay. I shouldn't have had you come out here." His hands cradled your cheeks wiping away your tears. "Seeing you upset like this kills me."
"Honey I'm okay. Just a bit shaken up. The cells were scary." You admitted looking down. John nodded kissing your head.
"I know they are for my sweet wife. I never wanted you to be anywhere near there." He let out a heavy sigh. "Let me patch up this cut for you and I'll have one of the lads take you home-"
"My car is here." You interrupted him looking at him worriedly. John shushed you kissing you softly. His bread scratched your cheeks as he pressed his lips to yours. He pulled back after running his hand over your head.
"But John it was my fault. I forgot my phone at home and my wallet was in the car-" John chuckled at your words shaking his head.
"Now you don't worry about that. It's not your fault you hear me? Even if you forgot it that didn't give them a right to touch you at all. You leave that for me to handle yeah?" He spoke firmly grabbing your chin for your full attention.
"Okay.." You gave in as he grabbed his first aid kit gently patching you up.
Your arm was wrapped in gauze now. John gently kissed the area after over the bandage. A silent apology for you getting hurt in the first place.
He wrapped his jacket around you after guiding you outside the base. "Order your favorite tonight for dinner and when I get home we'll watch your favorite movie."
"The princess bride? Wait you don't want me to cook?" Your eyes widened as a smile formed on your lips.
John nodded kissing you gently, "Yes even though I am sick of the movie. We will watch it. I'm not letting my bloody wife cook after she got hurt too. So order whatever you want." He caressed your cheek happy to see some of your spark return.
"Gaz is gonna take you home okay." He kissed you once more before sending you off with a soft kiss and a loving goodbye.
"John I know you..what are you going to do?" You looked at him growing worried. You knew how your husband was.
He held your hand helping you into the car bending down to look at you through the window after he closed the door.
John simply smiled at you kissing your cheek. "Nothing for your pretty little head to worry about love." He gentle gave you a smile. The husk in his voice you noticed almost immediately.
You had only seen this look in his eyes once. Only once.
John has done worse to men for a lot less.
He was already planning out the ways these men would pay. He knows Simon and Johnny wouldn't mind helping him either.
It's a shame too. He thought one of those men had actual potential.
These men weren't seeing the light of day.
The sight of your tears, the blood on your soft skin, and the bruises on the arms that held him every night. The same ones he kissed and worshipped when you were in bed and he had the honor of taking you..
Was all he needed to see to know these men would be lucky if they lived to see the next day at all.
"Now love go home and rest okay. We'll talk more when I get home." He turned to Gaz after nodding at him. "Get her home Garrick."
John turned after walking back in rubbing at his jaw letting out the heavy deep breath he had been holding. A smile of disbelief forming on his face.
He pushed the door open to Simon's office taking one look at the recruits. "You three on your feet now." He barked looking at Soap and Ghost.
"Stand behind them one of them tries to run shoot them."
This wasn't Captain Price.
This was John Price and his wife was manhandled without his knowledge and put near people vile. The filth he promised he would never let her see.
The recruits followed each of them pale in the face now. They looked down knowing they messed up. Even if they did think you were a spy he should've called their commanding officer before even thinking of putting hands on you.
John took them outside the base once they all were a good distance. He turned facing them asking one question.
"Who shoved her first?" He asked them.
They stood frozen yelping as Ghost and Soap shoved them down to their knees. John raised his hands. "Well then none of you want to talk?" He nodded once.
"No no sir it was Private James." The one on the left spoke up quickly. "I was the one who put cuffs on her and Private Lloyd grabbed her roughly."
John stared at them before pulling his fist back letting it swing across Private James face first. Afterwards he panted looking at his Lieutenant and Sergeant.
"Let's see if I decide to kill them or not." He spoke to them.
Later that night, John returned him sighing as he took in the smell of meatloaf one of his favorite dishes of yours. He walked into the kitchen seeing the perfect scene in his mind.
You were standing at the stove mashing potatoes. A smile on your face as you hummed softly not hearing him come in. He quietly approached you wrapping his arms around your waist
"Love didn't I tell you to order food?" He smiled pressing his head into your neck inhaling that sweet scent that was just you.
His wife.
John hummed kissing your neck waiting for you response. "Didn't want you overworking yourself. You had a long day."
"John.." You laughed squirming in his arms, "How could I not cook for you? I know you had an even longer day. Plus I had this planned from the beginning of the day."
He sighed swaying with you before turning you to face him. You reached up grabbing his hands. You didn't need to ask to know what happened the bruises on his knuckles proof enough.
"Hey don't look at that darling.." He pulled your head up kissing your lips. "Just made sure they knew they had the wrong person." He kissed your head.
"John.." You pulled back. He shushed you again kissing your lips.
"So long as I live you will not be hurt ever again darling. He pulled you away from the stove sitting you on the counter. "Now let me love my wife."
John kept kissing you not wanting you to worry about it again.
You didn't need to know that those recruits were in the infirmary. Two of them had broken limbs while the other's face was slightly disfigured.
They wouldn't talk either especially since the only reason they're alive was the promise that they wouldn't say anything.
18+ MDNI can't stop thinking about married price x younger reader and how he fucks you...
the way john sinks into your warm cunt after a long day, letting out a sigh into your neck, relieved that he finally has you all to himself just like he's been thinking about all day...
the way the sheer girth of his cock splits you open like you've never experienced before with any man, making you feel every ridge and vein sliding against your sensitive walls that leaves you ruined and his completely...
the way he has you on your back, his giant form engulfing you entirely, bodies pressed together and drenched in sweat, his hairy chest squishing your breasts as he thrusts into you so soo deep and hard it reaches places that has you screaming his name just the way he loves...
the way he kisses you while slowly fucking you, claiming you with hungry, frantic movements, saliva everywhere as his tongue slips through your lips and explores your mouth sloppily while holding your jaw in a firm grip as if you're gonna move away, biting your bottom lip and licking the metallic taste of blood, leaving you breathless and your lips bruised and swollen...
the way he grinds into you, not thrusting in and out, just a deep grind and roll of his hips that has your toes curl and your eyes roll back into your skull, your legs closing involuntarily around his waist, nails raking all over his back and teeth sinking into his shoulder that would surely leave him bruised the next day...
the way he overstimulates you, thick cock drilling into your sloppy poor cunt that's feeling too sensitive and raw from all the orgasms he's pulled from you. "shh, it's okay, love. just one more." he coos, "you can give me one more, princess. right?" and you babble away some incoherent words in your dazed state as he pushes you over the edge for the nth time, "theeere you go. my good girl."...
but the bubble you've created bursts when his wife calls. "fuckin hell" he grumbles, head dropping onto your shoulder in disappointment as he slowly pulls out, shushing your little wince by a quick kiss before leaving to answer his phone...
Duo becomes a Trio | Beau Maxwell X reader x Dean Di Laurentis
Summery: Moving collage after a year is not easy. You know no one and no one knows you. that is until you're tackled by a guy on the football team in your first week.
WC: 4K
Warning: Cursing
AN: English is not my first language, I've never written anything with a poly relationship in it and I've never written smut so it's undecided if i will include any in this series.
Also This is like my 5th blog on tumblr at one point or the other i deactivate my blogs just so you're aware. I'm not very reliable when it comes to this.
TACKLED | NEXT >
Dean and Beau are very well known on campus for their friendship. The Hockey player and the footballer. Iconic due, iconic parties. Where one is the other is usually close by. Their families are friends, they are friends.
The unbreakable duo, they read each other very easily. No need to say anything, one look and they know. Nothing could ever tear them apart. well almost nothing. You happened. You came into their lives.
You just transferred to the Briar Art department. You were rushing to class one day with a big canvas in hand, and a big bag over one shoulder. The strap of the bag digging into your shoulder, while the canvas was hard to hold. Your muscles were straining and your hair coming loose and flying in your face wasn't helping you. Balancing everything while trying to rush wasn't the best thing, and for the millionth time you ask yourself why you decided to study art. Pausing to take a break wasn't an option, you just transferred and the professors are still not used to you, the last thing you would want is to give them a bad impression of yourself.
Dean and Beau were playing on the field, throwing a ball back and forth as they talked and joked around. Their friends have long since left them, leaving the best friends alone. They both didn't mind being alone, they liked each other's company, their laughter proof enough of that.
"Come on man, how can you call yourself my friend when you have a throw like that?" Beau teases Dean.
"I'm going easy on you, you wouldn't be able to catch the ball if I gave it my all." Dean throws the ball and Beau catches it with ease.
"Well catch this!" Beau throws harder than Dean and the hockey player walks backwards and catches the ball. "Looks like you can catch balls better than pucks." Dean scoffs and rolls his shoulders, Beau knows that look, he knows Dean will give it his all.
You were lost in thought when you heard someone shout "Heads up!" instinctively you look up and you see a football spinning through the air. Your eyes flick down and you see someone is running backward beneath it, the ball is heading towards you. The guy is smiling not seeing you.
It was as if time slowed down and sped up at the same time. You saw him too late, he was moving fast and you had no time to react. The football just inches out of reach and he's running backwards watching the ball. The moment it touches his fingers, his shoulder hits you, and you're both tumbling down. You let out a scream instinctively, and time seems to speed back up the moment you hit the ground... more like the canvas. That guy falls on top of your hand, the one that was holding the canvas. You heard the fabric tare and the wood groan and break. but so many things were happening at once for you to compute what's happening. You feel the sting in your fingers, the wood digging into your back and the canvas scratching your neck. The air is knocked out of your lungs, someone is swearing nearby and footsteps pounding closer.
The sounds, sensations and pain overwhelming your senses for a long moment.
A beat. Beau hesitates before...
"Fuck, shit, sorry, oh god." He's quick to scramble off you, you stay on the ground blinking slowly seeing the blue sky above you. Seriously? this is your second week, you were rushing and out of every person on campus this had to happen to you. Your hand throbs where his weight had pinned it. You flex your fingers, panic courses through you.
One.
Two
Three.
Four.
Five.
Breath.
Relief.
Then footsteps thunder towards you.
"Nice ca-!" Dean runs over smiling. You groan and the smile on his face slowly slips away. "Shit are you okay?"
Your eyes move from the sky to the two men in front of you, the sun coming up from behind them saving your eyes from the glare of the sun.
"I'm okay." You groan and sit up. Wincing when you place your hand on the ground to push yourself up. Dean and Beau are on either side of you in an instant. Beau's hand is on your back and side, while Deans are on your back and elbow, helping you sit up and stand. "Fuck." Your back cracks and you stretch, your hand is throbbing. "What the hell, you weigh a ton or what." You look at your red fingers open and close your fist testing your mobility once more.
It takes you a moment before you're aware of everyone else around you. Your face flushes as you see other students looking at the three of you, some have their phones up clearly taking pictures. Your second week, and you're probably making it on the uni's front page.
"I'm sorry, we should take you to the clinic." Beau looks guilty, and you can tell it's genuine.
"I have to go to class." You feel a twinge of pain but you have concluded that nothing is broken. You turn to the broken canvas and curse. "What's the chance my professor will believe me when I say a guy tackled me and broke the canvas?" You ask the duo not taking your eyes off of the expensive material.
"How about I tell him?" Beau asks and you look at him finally taking him in, he is good looking you can't deny it. His brown eyes are warm, his brows furrowed in concentration. Your eyes go up to his hair, fluffy falling on his forehead in soft waves, your eyes then drop to his strong nose, lips and then his cleft chin.
"I don't know."
"Come on, no professor can turn down our charm." Dean says and throws his arm over Beau's with a big grin on his face. You take him in, his blonde hair that is just inviting you to run your hands through, blue eyes and a smile that is to die for, and his physique. God both of them. They're athletes for sure, nobody has bodies like that from just the gym.
"I guess I have nothing to lose, come on then Prince Charming and Flynn."
"Wh-what?" Beau says confused.
"Oh sorry, I don't know your names." You say and hold out your hand introducing yourself.
"I'm Beau, and this is Dean." Beau shakes your hand and you take note of his muscular arm. Dean bends down and takes the broken canvas. Beau takes your bag.
"Good thing this was empty." Dean says and you hum.
"Yeah, but now I have to find a new one." You say and they flank you as you make your way to the art department. You're still aware of the people around you, the eyes that follow you, and you wonder just how popular these two are.
"I'll buy you a new one, the least I can do." Beau says instantly.
"That's kind of you but I ordered this online and it took a week to come, the art store close by didn't have any this size." You sigh. "I could make one if i was back home but I don't think i can make one before the rest of my things are shipped."
"We can help." Dean says and you raise a brow. "Maybe not us, us, but I know someone who is very handy with tools."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Okay it's a deal then."
There's a beat of silence before Beau breaks it.
"I'm sorry." He says again and again you can tell he means it.
"I know it's alright, accidents happen." You shrug. "And now we know that you weigh way more than you look."
"I'll let it pass this time." Beau winks and you giggle.
"I haven't seen you before." Dean comments he's been trying to rack his brain, thinking if he's seen you before.
"Oh so you know everyone around here?" You ask with a raised brow.
"No but I would've remembered you." He winks and you scrunch your nose up.
"Wow there, prince charming." You raise a hand and Beau laughs.
"Looks like someone is immune." Beau hits his shoulder with yours.
"I just transferred, so I've been here for all of two weeks." You tell them. "And I've already been tackled, I am late, and my things aren't shipped... also who the hell are you two, why is everyone staring?"
"I play hockey and he plays football."
"So which is bigger here?" You ask knowing that this question is bound to get any two guys into a debate, and this doesn't disappoint.
"Hockey." Dean says instantly.
"Hockey? are you insane, it's football." Beau says to his friend before he turns to you. "Definatly football."
"Like since when, it's hockey, I'm telling you it's hockey."
"We have a bigger crowd."
"Yeah every once and a while, we have a steady turn out, our bleachers are always filled." Dean fights back.
"Football has eighty guys on the roster."
"Half of them just stand there."
"Strategically."
"Doing nothing strategically is still doing nothing."
"Says the guy who skates around chasing a rubber biscuit."
"Puck."
"Rubber biscuit."
"Puck."
"Children." You interrupted. "You're both pretty."
They stopped.
Dean looked smug.
Beau frowned.
"...Did we just get parented?"
"I think we did."
You're fighting a smile and they stop talking but continue glaring at each other. You're rounding the last corner when you ask. "But who's more athletic?"
Before either of them can say anything you knock on the class door and walk in. Walking into class a few minutes late with both of them behind you was a sight not going to be forgotten soon by your peers.
"Miss y/n, you're late... and brought two guys with you." Your professor looks amused more than anything.
"It's my fault and I was trying to catch a football when I took her down." Dean moves the canvas showing how it's broken. "I might have fallen on her on the canvas."
"Everyone saw the whole thing." Dean said thinking your professor was still not convinced.
"I believe you, but I don't think you'll be able to do anything today." Your professor turns to you. "Your sketches were approved and you're good to start on your painting... I suggest getting a new canvas and starting, show me your progress in the next class."
"Thank you professor." You send him a smile and turn pushing both men out the door.
"That's good, we can go make a new canvas now." Dean said, sounding excited.
"Not so fast hot shot, we need to get the materials first." You say and he lets out an 'ah'. "So who has a car?" you ask and Beau turns to Dean.
"Let's go then Picasso."
"Ew no, not Picasso." You face twists at the neckname
"Okay, we don't like Picasso then." Dean notes. "Van Gogh? Farida? Angelo? Bob Ross?"
"Dean?" You say and stop, he stops and looks at you.
"Yes?"
"Shut up." Beau laughs and pushes Dean to walk.
Dean turns on the car and the music starts blasting very loudly, it has both you and Beau cringing and covering your ears, Dean rushes to turn the radio off.
"What the heck, how do you still have ears?" You ask Dean leaning between the seats from your spot in the back.
"It wasn't this loud this morning." Dean says and Beau scoffs.
"Liar."
Dean puts in the location for the arts store and drives off.
"So why did you transfer?" Beau asks, turning in his seat to look at you.
"It's a very long story." You give him a small smile hoping he wouldn't ask.
"We have time." Dean says looking at the GPS. "We have like 20 minutes."
"uh." You don't want to shut the conversation down and upset them but still you didn't want to talk about it.
"Maybe another time." Beau says, he gives you a smile when your eyes meet.
"Why-" Dean is still unaware of your discomfort so Beau hits his shoulder.
"Dude, shut up." Beau says and Dean spares him a look, and Dean knows to shut up. You can tell by watching them how close they are. Both lean in the direction of the other, the way Dean had his arms around Beau when they introduced themselves, the way Beau has his arm around Dean's back. Most guys would have their arms on each other's shoulders. The way one look seemed to be enough for each of them to understand what the other meant. you wonder, not daring to ask, but wonder if they're together.
Dean parks in front of the shop and you all leave the car and head inside. The guys walk after you down the aisles. Dean picks up soft pastel and holds it up.
"I didn't know chalk came in so many colors." He comments.
"That's soft pastel." You comment, not rushing to reach the other end of the store, as both guys look fascinated by all the unknown materials around them.
Beau picks up a paint thinner and for some reason decides to smell it.
"This smells disgusting." His face is twisted trying to get the smell out of his nose, it's a piercing chemical smell.
"It probably is, if you drink it." You amuse.
"Who would drink this?" Beau puts it down in an instant, as if just holding it would make him drink it.
"Art students surviving on 30 minutes of sleep and an ungodly amount of coffee during finals week."
"Wow, you're a survivor." Beau pats your back and you laugh.
Dean picks up a palette knife.
"So... butter knife?"
"No."
"Mini spatula?"
"No."
"Murder weapon?"
"...Closer."
Beau discovers kneaded erasers.
"What is this?"
"A kneaded eraser."
He squishes it.
"It feels illegal."
"It erases charcoal."
"It feels very illegal."
Dean steals it.
"It bounces."
"It absolutely does not—"
He throws it.
It sticks to the ceiling.
Silence.
"...Well."
"Why is there a lot of white paper?"
Dean is standing in front of the paper stand.
"Different brands, and you have paper for charcoal, water color, gouache, mixed media and crafts, some are handmade and those are really expensive. there's this French brand that I love so much but it's so expensive." You say and point at the ones you love, the brand you love has raw edges but you've never tried any watercolor paper that is as good as that one.
"Come on, the canvas is at the back." Beau follows after you. You pass by the ready canvases and he looks over them, his eyes catching the prices as he goes.
"Why are they so expensive?" He's well off but he knows how much a college student usually has and this is way too much.
"Everything about art is expensive, always has been. They call them struggling artists for a reason." You tell him and he hums. You're aware of how close he is to you, following you and looking at everything in wonder.
"I have to say I am sorry again." Beau says softly and you stop, he almost crashes into you.
"Beau, please stop apologizing." You said and placed a hand on his bicep. He flexes instinctively and you raise an amused brow.
"Can't help it." Rolling your eyes with a smile you turn back around and find the canvas material. You inspect the quality, once you were satisfied, you asked the worker to cut the size you needed.
"Why not buy the whole thing?" Dean asked, coming up behind you he leaned down to whisper in your ear.
"Are you insane, that's a lot of money." You whisper and he raises his hands.
"We're going to get wood after, right?" Beau asks and you confirm. "We can get it cut there, and then we'll only have to put it together."
"I'll go look for pliers." You say and leave Dean with the worker, Beau follows behind you. You find them pretty easy, looking at the different ones with different prices.
"How many do you need?" Beau asks.
"One, but I already have one that will get shipped, I don't want to buy an expensive one."
"Which one is the best?" Beau asks and you point to the one you already have. Beau leans over you and takes it. "We'll get that one then."
"What? no wait, I was still comparing prices." Beau ignores you and walks to the front, where Dean was at the register. The plier is scanned in seconds and you take out your wallet.
"Woah what are you doing?" Dean asks and he blocks you.
"Paying." you say as if he's stupid.
"Sorry sweetheart, but Beau got it."
"No, what? we agreed to; you helping me build this, not pay for it."
"Too late." Beau turns around with the receipt and a smile.
"Thank you." You mumble and he smiles.
At the wood store, they have so much fun looking at the wood. At one point Dean started using wood as weights showing off his physique. You and Beau laugh at his antics. Once more Beau paid for the wood and you were all on your way to Dean's house that he shared with some of his team mates.
"You live here?" You asked walking up the steps.
"Yes, with three of my team mates." Dean opens the door carrying the wood in one arm, while Beau holds the roll of canvas. You walked behind them admiring them from the back. Having two guys carry your things is hot.
You follow the two inside, closing the door behind you, walking in it's a lot cleaner than you expected. It looks cozy.
"Hey man, heard you tackled someone today." Garrett says from where he sat on the stool leaning on the kitchen island.
"That would be me." You say popping your head from behind Beau and Dean.
"Oh, uh, hi, I'm Garrett." You tell him your name. "Not to be rude or anything, but what are you doing here?"
"I broke her canvas so we're helping her make one." Beau said.
"Best get Logan then." Garrett says. Dean places the wood against the wall and goes to the stairs before shouting for Logan, it takes a minute before a guy 'Logan' comes down.
"What?"
"We need you to help y/n with her canvas." Dean points at you and you wave your uninjured hand.
"Hi."
"Sure... I don't know anything about painting?" Logan was even more confused, he's never seen you before.
"She's the one Beau tackled." Garett interjects. "They're helping her make a canvas."
"Can we stop saying tackled, it was an accident everyone is making it sound like I meant it." Beau groans and Dean pats his back.
"I've actually done it before, i will need help though, my hand still hurts a little." You said, Beau and Dean both crowd you suddenly and start inspecting your hand. "Uh, guys it's fine, it's just bruised."
"I'll get ice." Dean said and turned to get just that in a towel.
"Ookay." Logan gave the guys a weird and confused look before he turned back to you. "We can make it out back, gives us more space."
"Sounds good, lead the way."
Now building the canvas frame was all Logan. But Beau and Dean just made his life harder, which made you even more grateful for Logan.
"Can one of you hand me the screws?" Logan asked at one point.
"I got you." Dean said confidently. A beat passed. Logan looked up slowly.
"These are nails."
"They're metal." Dean shrugged, you held your laughter in, amused.
"They're the wrong metal."
"Oh." Was all Dean said before he gave Logan the correct ones. Beau had a tutorial that no one asked for open on his phone.
"According to this we're on step five." Beau said, looking up from his phone.
"We've literally just started." Logan reminded him, Beau's face flushed.
"Uh yeah, makes sense." Beau sheepishly slipped his phone back in his shorts pockets.
"You know, watching you try and fix the problem you created is surprisingly therapeutic." You adjust the ice pack pressed against your hand.
"In our defense-"
"There is no defence." You cut Beau off.
"Also, what ‘we’? I did nothing." Dean cuts off standing up, Logan breaths a sigh knowing he'll have a moment to work without interruptions.
"You threw the ball." You said and raised your brows in challenge.
"Exactly... actually if you weren't such a bad football player this wouldn't have happened." Beau crossed his arms and turned to his friend.
"Says the actual football player." Dean leaned in a little, giving his friend a sarcastic look. You laughed hard enough you almost dropped the ice pack.
"You know." You said. "This is actually making my hand hurt less."
"Glad we could help." Beau turns to her.
"You aren't helping." Logan cuts in.
"We're helping emotionally." It was Dean's turn to retort.
"You broke my canvas." You added.
"And now we're building emotional closure." Beau says with his hands on his waist.
Logan muttered. "I'm building the canvas."
The drill whirred to life.
For nearly thirty glorious seconds, nobody spoke.
Then—
"I have another question."
Logan closed his eyes.
"I preferred the silence."
"Hold the frame." Logan asks and Dean is quick to move
"Got it."
"I've got this side." Beau says also lending a hand.
Five seconds later...
CRASH.
Logan closes his eyes.
"I said hold it."
"We were."
"No."
"We were emotionally holding it." Dean gives his friend an innocent smile.
You showed Logan how you wanted the fabric placed and told him how to stable and use the pliers to stretch the canvas. Testing how firm it is when he pulls the fabric tight. Beau was there to stable once Logan pulled the fabric tight.
"How is that?" Logan asked once the last stable went in. you tapped the front and back feeling how tight it is.
"Amazing, even better than when I make them." You said with a grin. "Thank you guys so much... I have a feeling I won't be buying any ready canvases any time soon."
"Any time." Logan is proud of his handy work.
When you all went in, Tucker was finishing dinner.
"I should probably go." You said not wanting to intrude any further.
"No, have dinner first, we have more than enough." Tucker offered instantly, you were hesitant.
"Come on, what will you do? go to your dorm and eat alone?" Dean said and you sighed.
"Okay, sure."
Dinner was a lively affair, you got to know the other four hockey players more, they asked questions and you asked more. You didn't watch hockey so you had a lot of questions.
"What do art students actually do all day?"
You blink.
"...Art."
"Yeah but..."
"...Art."
Someone asks if your paintings are realistic.
Someone asks if you can draw them.
Dean immediately volunteers.
"I'll model."
"You?"
"I have great bone structure."
"You have confidence."
While you're talking to Logan.
Dean quietly nudges Beau.
"You okay?"
"I'm fine."
"You've apologized like eight times." Dean points out.
"I landed on her."
Dean shrugs.
"Yeah."
"I could've broken her hand."
Dean looks over at you laughing with Logan.
"You didn't."
"...Still."
Dean bumps his shoulder.
"You'll make it up to her."
"...Guess we are."
After dinner you gathered your things to go, Dean carried your canvas for you.
"Come on, I'll drop you off." You didn't argue seeing as you had no way of getting back to your dorm alone with the canvas.
"Thank you Logan for the help, Tucker for the food and Garrett... for explaining hockey." Garett laughed but they all waved off your thanks.
Beau took your bag and you all headed out.
It wasn't until you were halfway back to your dorm that you realized something.
Everyone on campus knew Dean and Beau.
The inseparable pair.
The guys who went everywhere together.
Somehow...
Without any of you meaning for it to happen...
There had been a third person beside them all afternoon.
The soft click of a lighter and you were already wet. Arousal zipping through your veins as your eyes darted towards your captain. He was already looking at you. Taking a lot drag from his cigar before blowing a cloud of smoke in your direction. Even though you were too far away, you swore you could smell it. The familiar smoky scent filling your nose and making your brain shut down. But this cigar wasn't for you. It was for John. A treat at the end of a long day. You hadn't earned it yet. But you would. He would always light one right before a mission. Knowing you would do anything for your reward at the end.
You'd actually beaten your record of confirmed kills. And gotten mighty close to Ghost's. But you didn't look at Price on the way back. You knew the rules. Sit straight forward. Head down. Do as you're told. Follow him silently back to his office. Strip down and drop to your knees in front of his desk until he was ready for you. Hands on your thighs, dripping steadily onto the floor below as need pulsed through your system.
You didn't raise your head as John stood. Didn't even twitch at the lighter click that made you ache with arousal. Cunt clenching around nothing. He stood above you. Close enough that you could smell him. Smoke and gunpowder and something so heady and manly it made you dizzy.
Ashes landed on your thighs as he tapped the cigar. You grit your teeth, but still didn't move. Letting the hot ash sit on your skin while it cooled. Following John's heavy boot with your eyes as he walked around you. Flicking more ash down your spine.
"You're so wet..." He teased.
Your shoulders tensed, it wasn't a question, you weren't supposed to answer. Even as the 'yes, sir' crawled up your throat. There was movement behind you as he crouched. Palm hand on your shoulder, then sliding down your back. You knew it was coming. But still the pain caught you off guard. Hissing between your teeth as hot end of the cigar pressed into your lower back. Burning a new brand right next to all of the old ones. It hurt. So bad. but so wonderfully good. The pain fully turning off your brain. Whole body trembling no matter how hard you tried to stay still.
"Such a good soldier. So good. My best soldier."
John fucked you like that. Shaking on the floor. Flicking ash and embers over your burning skin. Occasionally pulling out to slap your cunt when you got too loud.
WARNING. 18+. Mature content. NSFW without plot. Cannibalism mentionned. Taming kink. Bottom Character. Bottom Bucky. Top Male Reader. Both have cocks. Blood mentioned. Dom and Sub. BDSM. Use of Master and Pet. Degrading kink. Kinda short.
Vampire! Bucky Barnes x Cannibal! Scientist! Male Reader
The room was dark, curtains were fully down, and only a few candles ignited the dark walls that surrounded you and Bucky. It was warm, the atmosphere a mere caress on your skin. You sat on the edge of the bed, still dressed in that tuxedo you wore for tonight’s Avengers’ celebration, your bowtie was no more, already open and hanging around your neck. With a cigarette between your fingers and an old fashioned on your free hand, you stared down at your pet kneeling between your legs. Bucky was staring at you with lustful eyes, his mouth gagged and his hands tied on his back, his cock rock hard under his pants. He was pathetic. He is pathetic.
You took a slow drag of your cigarette before reaching to remove the ball gag off of his mouth, saliva drooled down his chin and his tongue immediately lolled out like a damn dog. Your cold stare never changed, he’s nothing but a dog in heat tonight. This was his punishment for trying to bite you at the party. You took your old fashioned and from a distance above Bucky, you poured the drink on him. The vampire just opened his mouth wide, taking all the alcoholic liquid he could get in his mouth.
Once there was nothing left, you threw the empty glass to the back of the bed, not caring if it fell from the bed and shattered on the ground. “You’re so pathetic.”
“Shut your damn mouth.” He obeyed your harsh words, yet his body wasn’t under control. Bucky went to nuzzle his face against your inner thighs, breathing heavily, he’s supposed to be dead yet somehow there’s a blush on his cheeks and he’s already sweating.
He bit his lip, his eyes locked on your crotch. You hummed, he was dying for it. You brought your cigarette close to his mouth, offering a drag, and he accepted it while his eyes met yours. He exhaled the smoke shortly later, his eyes still keeping eye contact with yours.
“You want it?” you asked as you took the last drag of your cigarette.
“So badly, master, I need it, I’m begging you,” another whine, your pet was at the very edge.
“You can inhale, kiss, lick and suck, but only through my pants. Do not disobey me.”
“Thank you, thank you master!” Bucky said before launching at your crotch, his nose buried on it as he inhaled deeply, his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he was able to get some of that musky smell he was so obsessed with. “Ah…” small moans could be heard, they were slightly muffled, yet they kept coming as he nuzzled and did his best to get more of your scent. His hips were rocking back and forward, fucking the air. His mouth was all over your clothed crotch now, sucking, kissing, licking through the fabric. “I’m so hungry master, I’m soooo hungry!” Another moan escaped his lips as he felt how you were slowly getting hard under the fabric, under his mouth. “Please just a taste…” He nuzzled your thighs again. “Just a bit…” But then, his mouth opened, showing his two sharp fangs, ready to bite your thighs. “Just a small taste..-” A cry came from Bucky when you grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back.
You leaned close to him, eyes full of frustration. “Don’t you ever learn? Pathetic dog? Are you trying to anger me more?” Your words were venomous, Bucky couldn’t help but whimper. Oh he hated how much he loved it when you were mean to him.
“How do you do it?” he whimpered. Confusion interrupted your state of frustration, you raised an eyebrow, curious to what he could be possibly babbling about now.
“You’ll have to be more clear than that, pet.”
He chuckled, his gaze lost on the ceiling. “How can you make me feel so worthless? So dependent on you?” His empty blue eyes met yours once again. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. I need you to tell me what I have to do. Oh master.” Hips started to fuck the hot air again. “Master, I need you, I need you so badly.”
His words resonated in your head. You released his hair and moved your hand under his chin, tilting it in the perfect angle for you to kiss him with an open mouth. Both of your tongues danced together and once you were about to pull back, you sucked his tongue and slowly released it. Bucky was panting, your teasing wasn’t helping his painful erection but he was loving the torture.
“Aren’t you a good pet, Bucky?” you asked with a slight smirk, the color of your iris’ turning darker.
A crooked smile adorned Bucky’s lips, you were driving him mad, crazy, so thirsty, so hungry, so everything.
You moved your foot under his hips and he immediately started to rut against it, humping your leg like a dog in heat. “Master! Master, I love you!” He sobbed.
Your hand went to pet the top of his head as he kept grinding on your leg, the fabric of Bucky’s pants was growing wet with the mess of pre-cum going in there. The ex-Hydra assassin was moaning louder and louder, his mouth hanging open as he drooled on your knee, such a messy pet.
As much as you enjoyed seeing him all stupid at your feet, you were growing tired and in need of some action. “Pet, on the bed, I want to fuck you now.” The vampire immediately threw himself on the bed, he opened his legs wide open and waited for you to come and touch him. You took your time to get on top of him, he whimpered from lack of patience, he just wanted to be fucked now.
The corner of your lips curled into a soft smirk before you lowered down to kiss the cold flesh of his neck. Bucky shuddered, his arms wrapped around your neck, bringing you closer as he whimpered more. “Master… hmmph!” Your lips left wet kisses on his neck and you playfully licked some spots, sucked them and nibbled them gently.
Your hands roamed under his clothes, touching the skin of his stomach, his hips, his ribs, torso, everywhere your hands could reach. Your kisses went higher, now going along the side of his jaw. Bucky turned to catch your lips and kiss you back. The taste of his meaty lips made you hungry for more, you wanted to take a bit of him. Tear his flesh with your teeth and eat him alive, devour him, swallow him whole. Make your love share one body only. Bucky’s clothes slowly started to come undone with the work of your hands, and now he was half naked before you.
The need to mark him was hard for you to fight off, so you gave in, biting every spot possible, marking him forever. The taste of him was so pleasant on your tongue, he’d taste better cooked and accompanied with some expensive wine.
“Master…” Bucky moaned, which brought your attention back to his lustful eyes. “You’re overdressed, in my opinion.” Cheeky bastard.
“Is that so?” You sat back on your knees and removed the top of your clothes slowly, letting Bucky crave for more exposure of your toned chest. “Is this better for you?”
The look of desperation just turned you on even more. You wanted to keep him wanting more till he breaks his sanity. His arms brought you back close to him for another passionate kiss, his hips now grinding against yours, your erection feeling his painful one.
Your hands went to remove Bucky’s pants, the large dark spot on the front made you grin slightly. “What a desperate pet.” Bucky’s cock immediately jumped out and fell on his lower stomach. “Going commando, huh?”
“Yes! Yes, ‘m so desperate sir.” Who would have thought the result of your own experiment would be a needy bitch underneath your attention?
A grin grew wider on your lips. “Turn around,” you ordered, and he obeyed immediately, presenting his plump ass to you like the good pet he is. He looked so splendid, the way you had full control on him was satisfying. An animal to tame, one who craves blood like no one else.
Once more, your hands traveled on his cold body, he shivered under your touch and arched his back seeking more. You squeezed his asscheeks in your hands, enjoying how soft they were, and gave them a soft spank, observing how they slightly bounced. “Hmmph!” He grinded his hips towards you, more frantic, more desperate. “Please, master… Master, please,” he sobbed out, tears building on the corners of his eyes. “It’s so painful…”
“Patience, pet,” you simply answered as you took a glance at his beautiful puffy hole, already winking at you, begging you to give it some wanted attention. You leaned closer and gave the soft ring of muscles a gentle kiss, which gained you a moan from Bucky. His hole clenched more and you licked it before forcing your tongue in.
“Agh! Ah..” He was moving a lot now, so you forced him to stay still by gripping his hips tightly in place. Bucky needs to let you savour him, he has too, he has no other choice. A kiss on his hole, a lick inside, pull back and give a soft bite on his cheeks. You’d eat him alive if only you could. But if you do eat him, no other meal would satisfy you as much as this one.
Just like Bucky, you were growing tired as well, lucky bastard. You sat back on your knees and undid your pants, Bucky clearly got excited when he heard a zipper being open. Your cock rested heavily between his cheeks, throbbing from time to time, and your pet whined, whimpered, sobbed while he pushed his hips close to you, wanting nothing but your fat cock buried deep inside him.
The need to torture him some more was there, but it would also affect you, so playing around wasn’t an option anymore. Not for you.
Bucky was ready, already stretched, you noticed it when you were eating him out, he probably fingered himself before meeting you in your dorm. In any other rare occasion you would have punished him for such action, but you’ll let it pass for tonight, he saved you the trouble of readying him yourself. You just wanted to fuck him already.
With a sigh, you slowly sink inside him, and Bucky swore he reached heaven.
“Fuuuuck master…”
“You moan like a desperate whore, pet, have you no shame?” You spanked him again, for which he yelped and moaned louder.
“I’m a desperate whore, for you, master!” he answered with a lustful grin, his sharp fangs showing clearly.
Those damn fangs he always tries to use on you. Your hand went to shove the head of Bucky right on the pillow, muffling all of his moans as you started to move your hips in a rough pace against him. Why going slow? He is as hungry as you, and you want to hear him scream already.
So one hard pound, two hard pounds, three and he was already sobbing on the pillow.
“Master! Harder! I’m begging!” He cried out loud and you shut him up with another hard pound. Bucky bit the pillow, the fabric tearing apart with his fangs. Your cock throbbed at the sight, couldn’t help but go faster. “Ungh! Ugh! Ahn! Haaah!” His insides felt amazing, hot, tight, wet, clenching and sucking you on like an insatiable whore. “Maaaster!”
You moved your hands on each side of Bucky’s head, holding yourself as you started to move faster in him. His cries and moans were so sweet in your ear, combined with the sensation around your cock, you didn’t have time to notice when Bucky grabbed your arm and bit on it hard. The pain was harsh, it hurt like hell, Bucky was drinking some of your blood as well as he moaned in delight. You spanked him hard to wake him up from his trance, but he didn’t care, he was lost in your blood.
“You idiot!” You yanked his head away by grabbing him from the hair and pulling him back harshly.
Bucky was whimpering, sobbing, wanting more. You quickly reached for the nightstand by your bed’s side and took a small container holding a liquid in your hand. You opened it and drank it whole. It was an anti-poison you created just in case a certain vampire would bite you. There was no desire in you to become one like him. Good thing you reacted quickly, another minute late and there would be nothing to do to save yourself from turning into a cold blooded creature.
“Master, ‘m sorry, I couldn’t control myself…” Bucky whined, his chin and mouth covered in your blood.
“Of course you couldn’t control yourself, pet, animals never do,” your words were sweet to the ear yet venomous to the mind, and Bucky didn’t care one bit. You caught his lips with yours, taking in the metallic taste of your blood in your mouth. Bucky turned around on his back and you kept thrusting inside him, slowly this time, savoring every spot of his tight insides.
Bucky could live like this forever, underneath you, under your control. He knows you’d keep him safe, you’ll keep him far from danger, because deep inside he knew you wanted to keep him by your side. He’s your valuable research, after all.
Hmmm, I feel like I'm losing my touch in NSFW writing.
And my hyperfixation on Bucky is slowly cooling off. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.
I decided to change it again because I couldn't come up with a plot for Robin so I'm sorry but I promise it won't change again because I'm sending it now...
Stepdad Steve Rogers x Male Reader
The Male Readers mom is Carol Danvers and his stepfather of 4 years is Steve Rogers. Carol and Steve go to the Male Readers house to visit him, the Male Reader doesn't like Steve but Steve really had a crush on him and during their visit Carol gets a call from work and they say they need her so she leaves town for a couple days but tells Steve to stay while shes gone Steve tries his hardest to connect to Reader but he refuses then one day after Steve walks into the kitchen shirtless in nothing but shorts from his run they get into an argument and suddenly Steve kisses the reader and immediately pulls away saying he should leave and he goes to his room and starts packing but the Male Reader walks in and when Steve starts apologizing again the Male Reader grabs him and slams him into a wall and starts kissing him until he pushes Steve to his knees and pulls his hard cock out and Steve sucks his dick while gripping his thighs until the Male Reader starts fucking his face in a messy blowjob as Steve is gagging and slobbering and drooling all over the big cock and it's leaking down his chin onto his chest but the Male Reader finds it hot and he keeps it up for awhile getting messier and messier (the messier the better) then the Male Reader pulls out and takes the spit dripping down his chin with his hand and rubs it into his chest and shoved his cock between his pecs and Steve gets the idea and squeezes his pecs together as the Male Reader pec fucks Steve hard after that the Male Reader takes Steve to the bed throws Steve's suitcases off the bed and lays down and Steve starts riding his dick in different positions making the bed shake as Steve whines and moans because the big cock up his ass then the Male Reader smacks Steves ass and tells him to get up and get on his hands and knees and he starts pounding Steve from behind and Steve says something like "My Step Son has the biggest cock" and during which the Steve gets a call from Carol and the Male Reader tells him to answer so he does but he's still getting pounded so he's whining and moaning and when Carol asks why he says it's because he's working out and she believes it and tells him she'll be back in a week so Steve says ok and hangs up as the Male Reader keeps pounding him sometime the bed breaks and after awhile the Reader pulls out and cums all over Steve's ass and says "I fucked my stepdad so hard the bed broke" to which Steve laughs and then they talk things out and the Male Reader says he likes Steve and that's why he acted that way because he's jealous and Steve reveals he also liked him and they start making out and they cuddle and fall asleep. Three days later Steve is naked cooking in the kitchen when the Male Reader walks up behind him and turns off the stove grabbing Steve bending him over the table as he drops to his knees behind him and eats Steve's ass like a starving man and then pounds him from behind spanking him while pounding him and of course while hes getting pounded he's whining and moaning about his stepsons huge cock slamming into his prostate after awhile of him fucking him he pulls out telling Steve to drop to his knees and he cums all over his face and when Steve's about to wipe the cum off the Male Reader tells him to keep it on as he starts fucking his face in another sloppy blowjob (sorry I'm into that) and Steve's again slobbering, gagging, and drooling all over the big cock, spit bubbles coming out of the side of his mouth with it dripping down his face until the Male Reader pulls out and cums on Steve's face again, seeing how sloppy he looks with 2 different loads of cum all over his face and drool and slobber all over his lips and dripping down his chin he takes a picture and sets it as his screen saver obviously showing Steve first to show him what he looks like.
Kinks: Dirty Talk (Dom Male Reader, Subby whiny Bottom Steve Rogers), spanking, sloppy blowjob, sex while on the phone, pec fucking, hair pulling while getting pounded, hate fucking
NO FEMINIZATION PLEASE.
PLEASE MAKE IT LONGER THAN YOUR OTHER 2 STEVE ROGERS FICS?!? 🙏🙏 PLEASE.
Happy birthday dear @soundlyfasttavern
Our little secret
Warning. 18+. Mature content. Bottom character. Bottom Steve Rogers. Top Male Reader. Both character and reader have a cock. Stepdad x Stepson. Cheating. Dirty talk. Spanking. Hate fucking. Tbh, first layer of freaky stuff y'all usually like.
Stepdad! Bottom! Steve Rogers x Stepson! Top! Male Reader
You first heard the knocking at your door while you were in the bathroom.
"Coming!"
Then the loud and repetitive ringing of the door bell came next, and it wouldn't stop ringing, to the point you were forced to leave the bathroom in a hurry, rushing towards the door before your ears started to bleed.
"I said I'm coming!!" Your hand reached for the doorknob and opened the entrance door of your house. There stood your mother, smiling so cockily, it was definitely her who wouldn't stop hitting the doorbell. "Mom..." you groaned, but you weren't really displeased to see her, however... with the man standing by her side... "Steve." There stood the blond man with blue eyes who was, in fact, your stepfather, smiling, this time more gentle compared to your mother.
"What's with that frown on your face? I told you we were coming, now, where's my hug?" Carol, your mother, asked you as she stepped in and opened her arms to wrap them around your shoulders. You returned the hug, one arm around her waist, but your eyes shifted between Steve and your mom.
Steve just smiled, holding the luggages in his hands. "Nice to see you, Y/n, how have you been?" he asks genuinely.
You struggle to meet his eyes. "Uhm, fine, I guess." You move aside from the entrance, letting them enter your house, but you kept your head low so to not make eye contact with your step father. Why were you so distant to him? He didn't seem like a bad person, and he wasn't, Steve was in fact such a great man and you're glad your mom found someone as good as him... but the reason why you didn't like Steve was more... personal, almost childish.
It was something you didn't want to share, deeming it a quite uncomfortable subject.
"Wow, I'm surprised the house isn't on fire yet," your mother said jockingly, teasing you with an amused smile.
You rolled your eyes at her. "Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny mom."
"Y/n," called Steve who just stood at one side, smiling, blue eyes locked on you with love... but you didn't know if it was parental love or, something else. "Can you show us the room? It's the first time I've seen your house." Right, Steve married your mother after you bought the house, when they were still dating, you've never shown him your place.
"Sure, over here. Mom?"
"I'll go get a glass of water, I'm so thirsty, you go with your father," said your mother, sounding tired as she made her way to your kitchen.
Father. That word sounds so bad when it's meant for Steve.
"Yeah, sure..."
Steve followed right behind you as you guided him to the bedroom your parents. You could feel his eyes on you, which just made things even more uncomfortable for you. Why was he staring so much? Did he want something from you?
Both of you entered an empty bedroom, the bed was ready, set with clean sheets and pillows. "Here, made sure everything was comfortable for you and mom," you said, still not daring to look at Steve directly in the eyes. Your step father looked around, and nodded before returning his attention on you, still wearing that soft smile.
"Thank you, Y/n, I'm so excited to spending time with my step son." He approached you and gave you a strong hug, you tensed and blushed, feeling his muscled arms bulge around you, his large pecs press against your flat chest, legs brushing yours... Y/n wake up!"
"U-uh, yeah. Of course." The hug seemed to take hours for it to come to an end. The moment Steve released you, you quickly took a few steps back away from him, making your way out of the bedroom. "I- I should go back and check on mom."
However, Steve seemed to wanting to do the same, as he left the luggages on top of the bed quite easily, without much efforce needed, and returned to you. "I'll come with you."
Shit. You prefered not to say anything. As you two approached the kitchen where Carol was, you could hear her voice slighty risen and worried as she spoke at the phone, seems there's something urgent she must take care of. "What?! Now!? But I just got to my son's place! ... Ugh, this is unbelievable, alright, I'll go right now, I'm on my way. Tell them not to do anything before I get there." You came inside the kitchen and saw her hang up the call and put her phone back in her pocket. She turned to look at you, seemingly stressed and tired. "I'm sorry dear, there are important matters at work and they need me."
"What?" Fuck! Fuck, and more fuck. "But... you're returning soon, right?"
With the grimace she gave you, it seems that wasn't a possibility. "This could take a week or more. I'm sorry love, I promise I'll make it up to you." She then moved her attention to her husband, Steve. "Babe, have fun with Y/n, get along you two. Don't let my absence limit the experiences you two could have."
Steve nodded, his smile widening. Why did he seem so excited? "Don't worry dear, I'll make sure to spend a good time with Y/n, right?" He brushed his arm with yours, sending a shiver down your spine. The look in his blue eyes was so weird, a mixture of pleasure and... something more perverse.
Carol just nodded, relieved. "Good, I'll go grab my luggage. Again sweetie, I'm so sorry about this." She left the kitchen and after a few minutes, appeared walking down the hall with her luggage at hand, walking towards the door. "Take care you two, be nice!"
The entry door was heard being closed, and silence invaded the whole place. Great, this is just what you needed.
A deep sigh then interrupts the silence. "Well! What should we do today? asks Steve, excited to spend time with you.
You finally look at him directly in the eyes. Gosh, you hate being stuck in this situation. "Whatever you want, I guess."
It couldn't be said that Steve didn't try his best to socialize and get close to you, inviting you to go for a walk, perhaps cook together, and enjoy some bonding time. But you were too cold, too distant with him, it was so frustrating. You wouldn't even let him touch you... He craved your touch, craved your closeness. His eyes followed every movement you did, how your biceps bulged under your shirt every time you lifted something heavy, how your ass filled your pants nicely when you bent over to grab something from the floor, or how your shirt stuck on your chest with sweat due to the hot weather. You were so hot, so fucking hot, how did he not see you before? Damn, you look even better than Carol.
Steve had to restrain himself from growing hard, noticeably hard. But he wanted really badly to get close to you, have you look at him for more than two seconds at least.
Yet everything he tried ended up being pointless with you and your thousands of walls.
The next day, you were sexually frustrated. Last night you went to the kitchen and walked pass Steve's bedroom, the door was open... and you saw two, white, round, bubbly cheeks facing the entrance. Steve was asleep, naked on top of the bed. Why didn't he close the damn door like a normal person?
Since that night, you tried to avoid Steve, your cock semi-hard inside your pants.
Whistling approached the kitchen where you sat, lost in your memories, Steve appeared inside, shirtless, in nothing but his very tight boxers that left barely anything for your imagination. Your cheeks reddened again. Steve didn't seem to notice your frustration, he opened the fridge and bent down, ass facing you, and that was your last straw.
"Can you please wear some pants at least?" It came out more dry and rude than what you intended. Steve turned to look at you, eyebrow raised.
"Sorry?"
You stare at him, trying to look upset, because deep inside, you were just needy.
"Put on some pants, have some decency, this isn't your house for fuck's sake." Your voice grows louder, frustration taking the best out of you.
Steve frowns. "Jeez, I'm sorry, didn't think seeing a man in underwear would affect you, another man. It's not like I'm wearing a thong or something." His teasing and mockery just worsens your frustration. Does he take you for a joke? Is he doing this on purpose?
You stand up and come close to him, finger pointing at him in a judging way before poking his chest, his strong chest. "I'm serious! It's weird to have the husband of my mom walking around almost naked! And put on some pants when you sleep! Or at least close the door! Fuck! I don't want to see your naked ass!" The vivid images come back to your mind, and you can't help but blush for it.
Steve seems to have his cheeks a bit more pink than usual when you brought the fact that you saw him sleeping naked on the bed with the door open. He completely forgot to close the door, he was just so tired after the workout and the warm shower... But still, with your tone, it was impossible for him to not bite back. "I bet you would have wanted to kiss it instead."
His words hit you like a train going at full speed. "The fuck did you just say...?" you ask menacingly, daring him to say those words again.
The blond man just leaned closer to your face, his fresh breath hitting your face. "I. Bet. You would have wanted to kiss it-ah!"
That's it! "You bi-!"
Your rage was quickly interrupted when two hands grabbed the collar of your shirt, pulling you forward, forcing your lips to clash against his lips. Your brain stopped functioning as his lips moved on yours, deepening this kiss, your previous rage faded like magic, leaving way for confusion and... panic.
Your hands pushed him back abruptly, and you were trying to catch some air for your lungs. Many questions needed to be asked, but the only thing you said was, "you need to leave."
Steve seems to be as surprised as you. And he was, what took over him to just kiss you like that? Why did his self control snap that way? "I- I-... yes," that was everything he said before walking past you, leaving you so he could pack his things and leave. Everything was ruined for him, you'd probably tell what happened to Carol.
But when he left, your brain started processing everything that had happened slowly. The kiss, that kiss... you hate yourself so much, that kiss felt so good, and relieving.
Five minutes later, you reacted and went to search for him in the bedroom you lent him. You found him, now wearing a pair of jeans, packing his things on the luggage. Steve noticed your presence and turned to face you looking guilty. "Hey Y/n, I'm sorry for what happened, I-" You didn't let him finish, with long strides you pushed him against the wall. He was about to protest, but you kissed him back, tongue going deep in his mouth. Steve's eyes widened and his body tensed, before relaxing and deepening the kiss.
Once the kiss comes to an end, you push him on his knees with one hand while the other fumbles with your belt and zipper, opening it for your cock to be set free. It was already semi-hard, cock throbbing, tip already leaking. Steve was left impressed with your sigh, the musky scent coming from your cock made his own cock harden under his pants, you just made him hungry. Hands grabbing your thighs, he dived in and took your cock in his mouth, sucking it with passion as if it was the most delicious treat in the world.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a quick second, gosh, that mouth felt fantastic wrapped around your sensitive skin. His tongue hit every vein, every spot that needed to be hit... your hands grabbed his head and without mercy, you started slamming your hips on his face, your cock hitting the back of his throat.
Steve's grip tightened on your tighs, eyes closing shut as he tried to take your cock. "Gughh! Gluhg! Ghhh! Hmm-! Gofhh!" Tears formed in the corner of his eyes, trying to keep up with your harsh thrusts, but it went so deep, and you were so big. Saliva drooled around your cock, dripping from the corners of his lips down on his chin. "Hmmff! Blllu-!"
"Haa... haaa...hmm..." Your hips pulled back and your cock accidentally slid out of Steve's mouth, leaving him panting before your cock slammed on his face, smothering him with saliva and pre. Strings of saliva coated his chin and fell down his chest, making more of a mess.
"Oh-! Hmm... haaa.. Glu-!" With another thrust of your hips, your cock went back inside his mouth.
Your balls hit his chin, slick coating Steve and your thighs. His blue eyes met yours, dazed, he looked absolutely wrecked with the amount of fluids running down his mouth right on his chest. Once again, your cock slid out of his now swollen lips. Steve fucked under his breath and went to kiss and suck under your cock and balls. The both of them were covered in slick that just smeared all over Steve's cheeks, he didn't care in the slightest, the messier the better for him.
"Fuck... oh fuck..." he gasped before sucking lewdly the sides of your shaft and kissing your balls. He grabbed your shaft and gently slapped it on his cheek, looking right in your eyes with a drunk smile. "Such a big cock..."
Gosh, you didn't't know you were able to control yourself for so long, not when Steve looked so... so... fuckable, perfect to ruin. With your hand, you scooped some of the saliva and other fluids from his chin and smothered it all over his soft chest, giving them few squeezes that made Steve moan pathetically. Steve is confused at first, looking down at his chest, but yelped immediately when you pushed your cock between his soft pecs, pushed them roughly one against the other and rammed your cock in the crevice of his soft muscles.
"Look at you, what a whore, a married man fucking the son of his wife, his stepson, you couldn't have been more pathetic than this," you said with no deep heat in your words, this was also your fault, you brought him down on his knees and shoved your cock in his mouth. Your thrusts between pecs lacked compassion, going hard, your grip on his pecs reddened the pale flesh, Steve whimpered from the rough treatment, but couldn't deny that if felt insanely good to be used like this.
"Y-you can't blame-ah! me... I respect Carol... but you're so hot... and well packed..." he said, breathless, eyes focused on your hard cock and swollen tip pocking through the crevice of his chest. His hands moved to his chest, pushing them harder around your dick. Slick covered his skin, the movements becoming slippery, the sensation wet and deliciously disgusting.
You grunted, your cock loving the tightness and warmth around it. You could stay between his amazing muscles, and cum all over them, but you wanted to explore other spots. Your balls kept slapping below Steve's chest, and it felt as great as having your cock fuck his pecs, but you forced yourself to stop and step back. Steve was confused, again, before you went to the bed, pushed the luggage on the ground and laid on your back on the mattress, eyes still locked on him. "What are you waiting for? An invitation? Ride my cock, hungry whore." Steve almost came at your words in his pants, he clumsily stood up and removed his pants and ruined underwear, crawling on the bed and mounting you before sitting on your cock with the help of his own hand, guiding your shaft inside his tight hole.
No preparation was done, and it felt so painfully tight when it went inside. Steve cried outloud, eyes rolling back, mouth hanging wide open. "Fuck-!... Ffffuck!" Half of your cock was left out as he took a break, whining. "So big... unnngh... so fucking big..." Steve tried to relax himself, but it burned so good.
However, you were running out of patience. Your hands grabbed his waist and pushed him down, forcing him to take it all. A choked cried came out from him, you moaned, feeling like you reached cloud nine. "Fuck yess... oh shit..."
Steve didn't dare to move, everything hurt... painfully good. He panted, already sweating, face red. "Y/n... nghh... you're so mean... haaa... you're so mean to me..." he said, almost incoherently.
"Maybe don't go cheating on your wife- hmmm... with her son, now move," you ordered, feeling little to no mercy for him.
His hands moved to support himself on your chest, he lifted his hips slowly, thighs trembling. "Ungh... unh.. haa... Y/n... so big," he whined before dropping his hips on your cock, your cock hit another deep, and his back arched. "AHN! Ah... ahhh! Fuck! It hurts...!" But the pain didn't stop him, he lifted his hips again, pulling almost everything out, before falling again, a loud, wet clap resonating through the walls. Steve's eyes crossed, his asscheeks jiggled with the impact, fuck, he was about to lose it. "Shiiit..."
Each time he bounced, his hole clenched tighter around your cock with how deep it went. You bit your lip, it felt too good, if he kept with that, you'd cum soon.
Steve was growing used to your size, and worse, he was growing addicted to it, you just hit every right fucking spot. "M-more..." he whined as he lifted his hips again and slammed them back down, faster than before. His eyes were unfocused, dazed, lost, too high on the pleasure as he bounced faster on you, too needy for more. "Oh.. nhh...hunnhh... haaa... Y/n... big... haaa.. so full..." he kept saying and whining. His cheeks clapped and bounced, waves of flesh running down his round butt.
It was unfair, it was so unfair that something like this could feel soooo good. So addicting. His hole sucked your cock back inside everytime he lift his hips, not wanting your cock to slip out any time soon.
"Oh... ungh... fuck...haaa..." you were struggling a bit, but didn't want him to stop, it was the whole opposite. "Faster..."
And it seems he wanted the same as you, as he increased the pace. A sticky mess coating both you and him where your bodies connected was being formed, so wet, so slick, from pre, saliva and other fluids. Steve's cock bounced, strings of pre spreading on your lower abdomen and sometimes even reaching his own chest, it was hard and his balls clenched with each bounce he made. "So good... huuunnh... so good... hmmf-! Need more..." he whined.
"Turn around... huuh... wanna see that ass devouring my cock..." Steve listening to you, pulling out your cock out of him for a moment, even if he whimpered at the emptiness, he wants your cock back inside so bad. He hurried to turn around, back facing you, before bending over, showing you his open, red, puffy hole winking at you hungrily. You saw how he took your cock back inside him, your head disappearing first, before the rest slowly started to sink deeper inside him.
"Nghhh... aaaahh..." It didn't take him long for him to go back riding your cock fast, really fast, ass jiggling, and your eyes were hypnotized by the movement. So lewd. Couldn't help but squeeze them in your hands, winning a yelp from the older man riding your cock like a mad man. "Not 'nough... nnhh! Not enough..." Poor, pathetic, hungry thing, he needs more.
You moved your hips now, meeting his bounces halfway. Steve choked a moan before going harder on your hips, a moan coming out everytime you hit deep inside him.
But you had to agree with Steve, this wasn't enough. You spanked his ass, the soft cheek jiggling with the impact, the blond man crying at the burning, pleasurable pain. "Get up, get on four on the bed, now." Like a good pet, he got off of you, whining because his ass felt uncomfortably empty with the shape of your dick without your cock to fill it. You moved behind him, pulled his cheeks apart and spat on his greedy hole. "What a nice view." Steve whimpered at your words. You didn't care though, shoving your cock all the way in in one harsh pound.
"Hhhaahnn! Deep-! Soooo deep!!" Steve had to grip the bedsheets tightly, almost ripping the thin material.
You grabbed his hips and started pounding inside of him, slow, but precise and so deep for him to never forget how your cock feels. "Needy man, you're so needy, so hungry for fat cock!"
"Yes! Yes! So hungry! Love cock!" he gasped, voice pitched a little high with each moan that left his obscene mouth. "Love cock so much...! So, so much! My stepson... hunngh! Ungh! M-my stepson... has the biggest cock... I've ever had..."
It was hard for you to breathe properly, it felt too good, you could feel yourself on the edge of bursting. Each clap of skin got louder as his butt jiggled, catching your eyes, making you drool for them.
The sexy and sinful atmosphere was seen interrupted, as a phone started to ring, announcing an upcoming call. It was Steve's phone on the nightstand, you grabbed it, checked the name and a grin grew on your lips; Carol, your mom. You tossed the phone to Steve. "Answer the call," you order.
Steve looks back at you over his shoulder, worry invading his eyes, but the glare you gave him let him know he had no choice. With trembling hands, mainly because you continued to fuck his ass, he answered the call and brought it to his ear. "B-babe... hnn.. yes hun? N-need something?" Your smile widens, he sounds on the verge of crying.
"Hey love, how are you spending your time with Y/n? Hope he's not giving you a hard time..." You were definitely giving him something else hard, very hard, thought Steve as he felt another pound hit him deep to the point he had to bite his lip.
"N-no... no baby... ah-! We... we're having fun together... we mi-hnnn! miss you..." Steve prayed she wouldn't suspect him, nor that she would hear the loud clap of your hips slamming against his round ass. His mouth opened wide in a silent scream as you hit his prostate. "Oh fuck...!"
"Babe? What was that? Are you okay?" Shit! Shit, shit, shit.
"I-it's nothing, love... just... working out... with heavy weights." Heavy balls he should say.
Silence comes for a moment, before Carol speaks again. "Okay baby, don't overwork yourself, okay? Tell Y/n I'll be back in a week or so, things don't seem to be that terrible over here." Only one week? Aw, he wished he could spend more time alone with you.
"Okay love... w-will do-ugh! Haa... will do..." After that, he hangs up and toss the phone elsewhere in the room. "You brat... so mean to me... hnnn... fuck me harder! I need it harder!"
You just smirk and give him another spank, he cries, he loves it, he loves how rough you are to him. "Good job, stepdad!" You mock before pounding him faster, deeper, harder.
"Ahn! Ahn! Ah! Aaah! Ah fuuuck! Fuuuuuuckk!!" He moaned louder, more needy, the neighborhood might hear him if he continues to be a loud whore. "Yes! Yes! Just like that!" The bed shook under the weight of the two of you, fucking like wild animals in heat. As his cries grew louder, the bed creaked louder, and louder. "Oh god yes! Yes! There! Fuck me there!" And suddenly, the bed broke, making you trip and fall over him, sending your cock deeper on the spot where his prostate hit, making Steve cry out loud as he came undone all over the bed. "Aaaahhnn!!"
That was it, fuck. You pulled back in a hurry, cock slipping out of his wrecked hole with a lewd pop, and jerked off desperately until you came all over Steve's ass. "Shiiiit... haaaa..."
Once the high slowly cooled off, you laid on the bed by the side of Steve, both of you sweating profoundly, panting heavily.
"Shit..." you cursed. "I fucked my stepdad so hard the bed broke."
Steve gave a weak laugh, looking at you with tired, satisfied eyes. "Yes... yes you did..." After some minutes, he got closer to you and stared at your eyes. "Why were you so distant to me?"
"Huh...? Oh...." Your cheeks grew red, ashamed due to the reason. "I... I like you, okay? And- and it was wrong of me to do so, because, well, you and mom are together... but I was so jealous. I'm so sorry, Steve."
The blue eyed man chuckled and kissed your cheek softly. "I also liked you for a while." You turn to look at him in the eye, and Steve lean down to kiss you on the lips, tongues tangling together, sharing so many emotions that were hidden for a while. Then the two of you pulled back, and Steve nuzzled close to you, head resting on your shoulder while his arms wrapped your waist, your arms went to do the same, and you kissed the top of his head.
Finally... things came out to the light.
Three days have since then passed, and things in the house have changed. You two had sex almost all the time, having a hard time keeping your dicks inside your pants. You would blame Steve though, he always loves to tease you and tempt you into fucking him. Just like right now; Steve was in the kitchen, making dinner for the two of you, naked, completely naked. He hummed a song to himself, sometimes swaying his hips, and your eyes were on his round butt from the otherside of the kitchen.
You bite your lip and stand up from your stool, you walk behind him and reach to turn off the stove.
"What? Y/n what are you-?" You don't let him finish his question as you push him on the other counter and bend him over it. "Y/n!" You kneel down behind him, face to face with his perfect buttcheeks. You pull them apart with your hands and spit on his puffy hole before diving in, mouth all over his entrance, licking it, sucking on it, pushing your tongue inside to reach as deep as you can. Steve's ass clenches around your tongue, his eyes crossing, his hips pushing against your face. "Oooh... oh fuck..."
"Hmmm... slurp... unhmm..." You eat him like never before, he tastes so good, his buttcheeks feel so nice around your face. Steve wiggles his ass on you, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his ass.
"Hmm.. that's it love, eat my ass..." His hand goes to pull one cheek apart, making it easier for you to go deeper inside him.
You motorboat his ass, giving long licks with your tongue, stretching his hole open with your fingers to expose his pink insides and shoving your tongue back inside. "Hmmm... haaa... I love your ass, Steve..." you say, kissing his soft, plump cheeks and giving them some sucks before squeezing them and standing up. You pull out your cock from your pants, hard and ready to fuck your stepfather hard again.
Now that his hole is ready, your spit working as a lube, and Steve is already whining, begging for your cock, you line yourself with his entrance and slowly sink inside.
"Ooooh... oh yes, mhmm, I'll never get enough of this ass," you say as you spank his ass, causing him to yelp.
"Fuck... so big..."
You're obsessed with his moans and whines about how big your cock is, it just pushes you to ruin him for real. You pull out until your head is the only thing inside, and slam your hips against his ass.
"Ahn! Y/n... haaa..." And again. "Uhngh! Unnh.." And again. "Shit! Y/n... don't be meaaan..." So whiny.
You move your hips faster now, setting up a steady pace, skin slapping together, the sound still as lewd as ever, yet you love it. You want to fuck him even harder, making him even louder. "Yes... oh yes... what a nice ass!" You spank him again.
"Hughh...Yesss..." Based from experience, you already knew where to hit his prostate. You made sure to hit the right angle, and a sob came from him, maybe you hit it a little too soon. "Unh... haa... baby..." That petname just made your cock throb.
"Yes?" You pounded inside him, he gasped.
"Harder... harder please," he whined, pushing his ass further on you. You don't waste another second, before pounding him faster, abusing and torturing his prostate. He moans loudly, without any control. "Fuck! Yes! Yes! Harder! Harder! Hnnnnghh... m-my stepsons big cock... fat cock... is hitting my prostate, ungh! So gooood, so fucking goood!"
He clenched around you tightly, and you were incredibly sensitive today, feeling your orgasm coming fast.
"I'm so sorry, fu- hmm!' You forced yourself to pull out, ignoring Steve's whining about how empty he feels. "Get on your knees, this is not done yet."
Steve does as he's told and kneels down facing you, you jerk off close to his face, and he opens his mouth. It doesn't take long for you to cum all over him, cum going inside his mouth and on his face. You pant, still hard, Steve swallows the thick cum and reaches a hand to clean the mess on his face, but you stop him.
"Not yet dear, now suck." The blond man smirks and goes down to suck your still hard cock, moaning at the taste hitting his tongue directly. You grab his head and start using his mouth like a cheap fleshlight.
"Guuugh! Hugh! Uhgh! Ngh! Hmm! Hmmff! Glug-!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, your cock going so deep in his mouth, hitting the back of his throat. You pull out, strings of cum and spit connecting your cock and his mouth. Steve spits on your head before taking it back inside. You don't slow down, you're not gentle at all. Drool runs down his chin and falls down on his chest. Spit bubbles form with your fast thrusts, Steve having a hard time keeping up with your rough pacing. "Nghh! Hmmm! Uhhn!" You looked down at him, a smirk on your lips, enjoying how wrecked he was. He was working so hard to please you, but your cock slipped out of his lips sometimes, hitting his face, smothering him in more fluids, making his face even more ruined.
You were close again, shit, you wish this could last a little longer. "Fuck.. here comes another big one." You pulled back, a long slurrrp could be heard as Steve tried to give it one last suck before you pulled your cock completely back. "Shit... shit, this is so good..." Once again, your jerked off, eyes rolling to the back of your head, and another spurt of thick, hot, white cum showered Steve's face, leaving him gasping and dazed.
Panting, you enjoyed the wrecked view of the older man on his knees for you, marked by you, covered in your cum. You took your phone that was on the kitchen counter, and opened the camera app before taking a nice picture of Steve's wrecked face.
"Heh... look at this." You show him the picture, now settled as your phone wallpaper.
Steve lets out a weak laugh. "Just... just don't let your mom see that..."
"Don't worry hun," you calmly say as you scoop some of the cum on his face with two fingers before sucking them clean. "That will be our little secret."
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A little late, sorry for that, got distracted with Hopecore on instagram. :'') Also, sloppy blowjobs are yum... but how can you describe them?
Word count: 5.4k (almost 5.5k)
Proof read: No
Again, this is my last answer exceeding 5.1k words, as that number is reserved for paid commissions. This one is an exception because I did say I'd go further from 5k words to the requester before I mentioned paid commissions.
summary: you accidentally burn your hand while dean fucks you in the kitchen. for a centerman with all of the confidence in the world, he panics at your hurt more than he would like to admit.
word count: 1.6k
warnings: 18+ (fem reader)
(crossposted on ao3) // please send requests HERE :)
You look so pretty, Dean can hardly help himself.
It’s 1AM, the guys are (blessedly) partying elsewhere, and you’re covered in one of his big shirts in the soft glow of the quiet kitchen, his favorite thighs peeking out from underneath the fabric. If he squinted, he might be able to see the indents his fingertips and rings left along them.
You’re cornering Tucker’s stove with purpose, hair haphazardly thrown back from your face as you handle the spatula with care. Your pouty bottom lip is held behind the sparkly row of teeth Dean often begs to be bitten and claimed by, and you’re so intently, adorably focused on the browning and sizzling in front of you that you don’t hear him coming up behind you.
Dean skims his nose along the column on your neck, bracketing your ass with his hips. You hide a smile but wordlessly tilt your body into his, letting his hands wander down your shoulders and land possessively on your sides. You flip the pancake, ignoring him and teasing him all at once, and he groans.
“Smells so good,” he murmurs, but he’s not talking about the batter; his mouth opens along where your jaw meets your throat as he inhales you.
“D,” you chastise. "You specifically told me, and I quote, you ‘cannot go again without sustenance.’ I know you’re not lying because that’s a big word for you.”
Dean lands a slap somewhere near the apex of your thighs in retribution for your mouth. Said lips part on a sound between a gasp and a moan, the spatula teetering just slightly towards the pan.
“I should spank you with that instead,” he grumbles against your skin, nudging his head and therefore yours towards the utensil.
Your soft laughs fill the room a moment later, him dotting kisses into your neck as you turn towards him as much as you can in his hold. The angle is a little awkward, especially with his height, but he greedily meets you in the middle with his tongue leading the way before the rest of him can catch up.
You find just enough space to whisper, “Let me feed you first,” tacking on a whimpering “please” when he bites your lip to coax you open. You can’t be sure if the plea comes from truly wanting to take care of him before anything else, or from needing to be consumed by him again.
One big, warm hand cups the back of your head to dive into you deeper, the other fumbling with the knobs on the stove before Dean deems pancakes ruined forever. He dexterously flicks everything off in one smooth motion, simultaneously pushing you further to the left and into the counter with his hips without letting anything dig (too) painfully into your lower back.
Both of you would agree that just enough of a sting can be promised in other ways.
You push up against him, remnants of flour finding his flushing cheeks, his tousled hair, his squeezing hands. They are everywhere on you and still not enough, gripping and shoving impatiently until you’re on your tip toes with your back facing him again, bent over the counter with your hands struggling to find purchase of the granite on either side of you.
Dean slides his shirt up to the small of your back, revealing those little black panties he had sweetly dressed you back in earlier. He deftly pushes them to the side, grabbing ahold of your left wrist and using it as leverage between your bodies, before he enters you in one hard thrust.
You flutter so tightly around him he momentarily sags against you with a grunt. With one wet kiss to the top of your spine, he pries your legs further apart with his own and returns to fucking you in a brutal pace, trapping you tightly between him and the mess on the countertop.
You moan a mixture of his name and a prayer. It’s still not enough for him.
Dean pulls out all of the way, slamming back into your heat. Your knees buckle at the force, and your right hand goes to find something, anything that will stabilize you against his power.
You cry out suddenly, the still too hot cast iron branding your palm. It immediately is not a noise Dean recognizes from you, and he steadies his hips instantly, releasing your other hand to take hold of your waist protectively instead.
“Hey,” he manages, panic rising in his voice when you hunch forward without another sound. “Baby, baby, baby. Talk to me. What happened?”
You stutter out a tearful, “Oh no,” and Dean doesn’t hesitate to tuck himself back into the waistband of his athletic shorts and cover up your modesty.
“C’mere, come on. Let me get a good look at you,” he murmurs, flattening his touch over every crevice of you until he pauses at your red-hot hand. He hisses at the contact. “Sweetheart.”
He turns you fully to him, letting you clutch your injury into your chest even though every hockey instinct screams at him to take it for himself.
“I got you,” he’s saying against the ringing in your ears. “I’ll fix this. Gonna fix you up, sweet girl.”
With all of the confidence and calmness in his voice, his actions are decidedly not. He almost stumbles to the kitchen sink with you in his arms, fumbling with the faucet until his shaking fingers are pulling you under the lukewarm stream. He grits his teeth at the same time you do, as if you are fused as one and he can feel every bit of pain you do.
Dean wraps a clean kitchen towel around your damp palm, continuously speaking to you in that low, soothing tone. He wraps one arm over your shoulders and presses firmly into your hand with the other, steering you towards the island. He releases you barely for a second (and he's counting) to carefully hoist you up with one hand, only placing you down once he has impatiently pushed everything else aside with a clang.
“I’m fine,” you’re trying to reason with him, but you’re doing a shit job with the big, sloppy tears that are threatening to spill down your cheeks. Dean thinks he might hear a hiccup, and that’s even worse, so no - of course he’s not going to stop until you’re actually fine.
“You poor thing, that must’ve been so scary,” he pacifies otherwise, slamming every door open and shut until he can find the first aid kit Tucker stored away so many years ago.
“Dean,” you insist. “Really, I’m a big girl, it just - it just hurts a little - "
He hits the pantry door a little louder than the rest, tugging at his hair. “Where the fuck - did the kitchen-designated first aid kit - go - "
He is clearly panicking, and a part of you would find that so damn endearing if you weren’t worried about him suffering a cardiac episode before you had a chance to heal your fingers.
You say nothing, sniveling a little less at the sheer hilarity of the situation and big, bad, sometimes downright mean Dean thinking the sky is going to fall on his girl if he doesn't act quickly enough.
He returns from the downstairs bathroom a few moments later, a tube of cream and gauzes in his hand. He still fumbles his hold on you but a little less than before, taking a deep, calming breath that somehow does wonders for both of your nervous systems.
With extra precaution, he unfurls the cloth from your hand and presses the sweetest of kisses against your unmarked wrist. Through his eyelashes, he peers up at you, settling himself slowly inbetween your bare legs.
"Everything's alright," he whispers. You fail to hide a smirk at knowing he's saying this more to himself than just to you. "All better now."
Dean doesn't even get to see the watery grin on your face because he's inspecting a thin layer of ointment with surgical precision. The burn is undoubtedly going to scab over, perhaps even scar, and he presses a defeated sigh into your soft tummy when he rests his forehead against you.
You thread your good fingers at the base of his hair, transferring every bit of comfort he provided you back into him.
"Baby," you breathe. "I'm okay now. Just shocked me, s'all."
"I hurt you," Dean muffles into his own shirt. "I'm so sorry."
Your incredulous giggle bounces off the walls and buries itself directly into his heart. He shifts so that his chin is resting on your thigh, practically with his knees to the floor now. He leaves open-mouthed kisses against every part of your leg, moving up and up until he's back to the curve of your hips. His hand cuffs loosely around your ankle like he's afraid you might bolt.
"You didn't hurt me," you promise, scratching your fingernails at the light stubble at his chin.
His response isn't an acknowledgement, but rather, "I fucking hate pancakes."
"We'll toss them all."
"...actually, no, I still need nutrients."
Dean's eyes suddenly zero in to where you're splayed open atop the kitchen island. You know him too well at this point, so you're really not surprised when he tells you, "But I know other ways to get them and still make it up to you."
Price fauxcest gets me so horny like I just want to get bred by him okay😭
"What was that, kid?" Price watches your throat flex, trying to hold back a cough as the smoke of his cigar puffs in your face. He loves it when you do that.
"Dad, please." You plea, keeping the whining tone out of your voice. "I'm aching between my legs again. I need your help." Your face burns with humiliation at the words leaving your lips. You watch as Price puts out his cigar and pulls you onto his lap, pushing your legs open wide.
"You're so dirty, you know that? Asking your Dad to touch you like this." He mutters in your ear, voice dripping with annoyance.
His hands were quick and rough as they unbuttoned your pants, yanking them down with your underwear. He pulls off your boots as well, tossing everything covering your lower half to the side and leaving you bare.
His hand settles on your aching crotch, groaning softly as he rubs the sensitive skin. "You let me touch you like this because I do it the best, huh? No one makes you cum harder than Dad, isn't that right kid?"
You’ve lived in the flat next door to John Price for nearly a month now.
You don’t know much about him at all, when he introduced himself you learned he was an ex-soldier recently turned firefighter.
Other than that you’d only really exchanged names and small talk.
Price is woken up to loud banging on his door, having dozed off on the couch during a football match he didn’t really care about.
He rubs his eyes, grumbling like a very tired bear, as he opens the door.
He’s suddenly very awake as he comes to terms with what is in front of him. You’re stood there holding what can only be described as a saucepan of fire.
You just stand there holding it, looking up at him in visible panic, until his brain finally kicks into gear and he takes it from you.
He brings the pan into his house, sets it on the kitchen floor, wets a cloth, and covers it.
Before you can thank him he starts a half an hour rant about fire safety, sitting you on his sofa and pacing the living room in front of you.
While you would like to say you were listening and reflecting on your actions, he had decided to sleep in a pair of grey sweatpants and no t-shirt.
Eventually he catches onto the fact your eyes don’t leave his chest and waist and just stands in front of you, arms crossed, frowning.
“Fire safety is serious.”
You just nod along, silently planning what else you can safely set on fire.
He lays you down on the desk and yanks your uniform down around your ankles, squeezing your ass through your panties with a satisfied hum. He's had a long day, and he wanted nothing more to check you over. You were hoping Price was going to fuck you, maybe eat you out and then fuck your throat the way you loved.
Instead, you heard the tell-tale sound of his desk drawer opening and the sound of latex gloves snapping against John's skin. You bite your lip slightly, feeling your body shudder instinctively. John had conditioned you so well. He slips down your panties, letting them pool around your ankles as well.
He walks around his desk, cradling your jaw in one hand so he can lift your face up slightly. "Open." He orders as he pats your lower lip with his gloved finger. You instantly part your lips, opening your mouth wider for him when he slips his fingers into your mouth. He rubs two fingers across your tongue, pressing down to see the drool pooling in your mouth and dripping down your chin.
"Looks good." He hums, pushing his fingers against your gums and rubbing against them. "Strong teeth and keeping them clean. That's what I like to see." Price continues as he thrusts his two fingers slowly towards the back of your throat. He locks his gaze with yours, studying every reaction in your face when his fingers tease your gag reflex. He pushes past it, ignoring the slight gags and the tears filling your eyes. "Ghost is taking care of that gag reflex... You can take my fingers even further this week."
When he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, he lets your head go as he heads to your exposed lower half. Settling down in his desk chair, he pulls himself close and kicks your legs further apart. "Did you touch yourself today?" Price asks as he runs his saliva slicked glove through your folds, teasing your swollen clit.
"No, sir." You answer honestly, focusing every fiber of your being into staying still. Price presses firmly onto your clit, feeling the nubbin throbbing slightly against the pads of his fingers. He slowly works his fingers up to your hole, finally using his other hand to spread your cunt apart. You hold back a whine at the cold air brushing across you, made worse when Price teasingly blows on your hole to watch it twitch.
"That's good. I'm so proud of you, Y/N." He coos as he spreads your asscheeks apart to see your puckered hole. He uses the slick he gathered on his fingers to tease your asshole, listening to you whimper a little. He presses down slightly, rubbing a slow circle against the tight rim of muscle. "I think you're almost ready for us to start anal training. You'll be so pretty when you take two cocks." He wonders outloud.
You rest your forehead against the desk as Price continues his through examination, hearing the click of a lube bottle. Price took off one glove to grab a notepad and pen, settling back in his chair. You'd passed your inspection, but it was time to take notes on your reactions to simulation. You'd be here for a while.
Domesticing a man is so easy. Especially if you chose one a little closer to retirement. Most men are stubborn to the idea of it, not wanting to stop the work that keeps them busy, keeps them social. Keeps them outside the house untethered from you. So, of course, you suggest a desk job first.
"You just work so so hard, baby. Every time you get sent away on a deployment, you come back with new gray hairs." You pouted as you rub a hand through John's chest hair.
"Thought you liked my gray hairs, love." John chuckles as he huffs another cloud of smoke into your face. You pout, scrunching your face at the smell you actually don't mind much.
"I do, and I want to see more of them. Just not because you're stressed on the battlefield, John." You plea as you pull him into a needy, desperate kiss. Swirling your tongue inside of his mouth as you rock your hips against his, it makes John grunts eagerly. You know you've won your argument when he rolls you onto your back, the cigar hissing as John stamps it out.
After that, it's all so much easier. Every time he complains, you remind him of all the luxuries at home. Rookies don't rub feet and massage backs after they mess up paperwork or piss you off. Superiors don't make breakfast, lunch, and dinner for him every day, and they certainly don't fuck him within an inch of his life.
"When are you gonna retire, John?" You pout furiously as you bounce furiously on his cock, fingers pinching and flicking at his nipples. You couldn't leave them alone once you realized how sensitive they were.
"Fuck, love, no. I can't -" John throws his head back against his pillows, grabbing your hips tight as he jerks his hips up into you. "Can't just leave." He groans, eyes snapping open when you stop riding him, clenching tight around his cock.
"Please, John? For me? I promise I'll keep you busy.." You whine, using the tone he loves as you slowly roll your hips again. "Just want my Daddy home with me. Is that too much to ask?"
"Fuck, love, no, it's not its not too much." John shudders as he cums inside you, gently squeezing the fat of your hips in his hands. "I'll talk - fuck - I'll talk to Shepherd." The smile creeping across your face makes his heart flutter, and his cock twitch inside you.
You just love domesticing a man. Even old dogs are good for new tricks.
cw age gap (unspecified age but 18+, much younger than price)
John grunted softly as he slid inside you. Mind going blissfully blank as the tight heat of your cunt surrounded him. He only had a moment of peace before your whiny little gasps brought the guilt clawing back into his gut. Looking down at your face twisted in pleasure. Your perfect, soft face. So young. So sweet. Far too young and sweet for a man like him.
He shook his head to dispel the thoughts. It was stupid. You were an adult. Fully grown and more than capable of your own decisions. You just happened to be half his age. And who was going to blame him really. It was you who came up to him in the shitty bar. Practically begging for the man old enough to be your father to take you home and ravage you.
Then you whined again. Face pinched in slight pain as he built up a steady pace. Jesus chris you were tight. Were you a virgin perhaps? John's cock throbbed at the thought.
"John..." His name fell from your lips. Sickly sweet. Not innocent exactly, not with how you curled the word on your tongue like you would his cock. But naive. Pleading for this stranger to blow your mind like no boy your age could.
John leaned over you. Covering your mouth with his hand. Your breath hot against his palm.
"Shut up..."
He didn't need you reminding him what you were. Practically a kid. John had been the target of plenty of 'cradle snatcher' jokes in his time. But they were jokes. This was different. God he had tattoos older than you.
summary: you do something unexpected mid argument with Dean.
warnings: none too bad
Dean masterlist
I looked around my room. little highlights of Dean were everywhere. we were 2 days in the holiday weekend, and he was getting on my nerves. my apartment was scattered with his things. his hair from shaving dried on the sides of my sink, his socks all over my room, the dishes he “forgets” to put in the sink. I was pissed. my whole living space looks like a man decided be could claim it as his. since he wouldnt pick up on what he did, I decided, instead of saying something, id give him the silent treatment until he begs to know what’s up.
“Daddy’s home!”
I wanted to turn my head away from my book and got smother him in hugs and kisses, but I stayed in place on my bed. I sat on the couch with my knees up to my chest. I wore a sweatshirt with nothing underneath and sweatpants with some embarrassing pair of underwear with a corny saying one the back.
“babe?” he called while putting his things down. I was trying so hard not to smirk, despite my anger. footsteps were approaching my room so I had to take a breath and try so hard not to laugh or give in. he knocked, I didn’t respond. “y/n, can I come in? I can help you if you’re… you know..”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m coming in. you’re scaring me.”
the door opened and I saw in the corner of my eye that his shoulders dropped. “hi pretty girl.” he said, running a hand through his ridiculously gorgeous hair. I stayed where I was, acting like he didn’t exist. “y/n? am I muted?” he asked sarcastically. I would’ve laughed. he pouted. god was he adorable. but a fucking pain in the ass.
his roommates were home for the long weekend, so he stayed with me for the 5 days.
“oh okay. we’re not talking.” he sat infront of my legs. he was wearing jeans that hugged his figure nicely, and my favorite cardigan he owns. he started talking about his day. “oh yeah, I got your coffee order for myself this morning because I woke up and you were already gone. so I just missed you.” he stated, toying with my toenails like a weirdo. I wanted to kiss him until he couldn’t breathe, but I needed him to get the message. he got on his stomach and used my ankles to spread my legs.
I broke. “Dean stop.” I said, in an unjoking tone. almost rude. his eyebrows knitted together as he put his hands down. “I’m sorry. did I do something wrong?” he asked. I decided to answer him this time. “yes you absolutely did.” I slammed my book shut and got off my bed. he stood up to match me. “what did I do?” he added, he looked confused mixed with sad.
“Dean. you don’t fucking clean up after yourself. everywhere I look it’s either your clothes, your dishes, or your shoes. I’m really sick of it,” I said, crossing my arms.
he took a step toward me. “baby, you leave your hair in my shower and… and…” he trailed off, searching for something else. “exactly.” I laughed bitterly. “that’s all you’ve got? hair? I clean it up. you don’t.”
I turned and walked out of my room, my patience hanging by a thread. “come on, don’t just walk away.” he followed me into the kitchen. “no, because every time I try to talk about this, you joke your way out of it.” I replied, ready to end this.
“I don’t—”
“yes, you do.”
he opened his mouth again, and before another excuse could leave it, I yanked up my hoodie, revealing my bare chest. my nipples hardened at the sudden chill and Dean stared like a deer with headlights. “fuck.” he groaned while he put his hands in fists as his jeans turned a little tighter. I pulled it back down and he walked towards me, completely flustered with pink cheeks. “baby I’m sorry. I’ll clean up after myself. please just… do that again?” he winced. I finally smiled, a real, sort of un annoyed one.
“Dean I’m not kidding. I swear I’ll kick you out and you can go back to being alone at the hockey house for the next 3 days.” I said, running a hand through my hair. “yeah yeah, I hear you princess.” he lifted me up by my ass and ripped my hoodie off. I rolled my eyes playfully.
“Dean. you’re cleaning the sink as soon as we’re done.” I whispered before he connected our lips.. he nodded and carried me back to the bedroom.
Tags/ Warnings: SMUT, CNC, hair pulling, rough sex, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, sunshine), praise (good girl), man-handling, bondage (zipties), p-in-v (wrap it before you tap it), cream pie, choking/breath play, panties and fingers in mouth, vaginal fingering, Lloyd Hansen (He is most DEFINITELY a warning)
Word Count: 2.1k
Summary: You find a place on the Web where you can spell out your sexual desires with no judgement and maybe even hire some help...
As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.
A/N: Jeez, cutting it close with this one. I had another fic for today but I wanted to change the pacing so I decided this might be a better fit - Love Grem 💜
I hope you enjoy; comments, likes and reblogs are always welcome!
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You half growl to yourself and kick off the covers.
This was getting ridiculous.
You were beyond horny – you were desperate for some relief but everytime you got close to that sweet, sweet edge of ecstasy, you were viciously pulled away. Either there was a delivery, or phone call, something that snapped your mind our of fantasy and back to reality. Sometimes it was your own mind sabotaging you; you forgot the washing again, that very important work thing you had. Things that only added to your stress and frustration. Always Ruining what would have been a perfect orgasm.
You’d been without a partner for a while now, and at first it was great. You and your fingers or vibrator were happy as a clam. However, the insatiable need of physical touch became overpowering. You didn’t want the torturous, laborious process of getting to know someone before trusting them enough to reveal some of your kinks for them to either break it off or judge you. Although it would be nice to have someone to share your bed with, once in a while.
You huffed, tugging your sweat pants back on, and heading to the bathroom to wash your hands. You needed to do something or someone and soon. You head back to your laptop, your coffee cold and uninviting, grumbling as you answer emails. It’s not long before your mind wanders, taunting you with thoughts and daydreams of utter filth. You glance to your phone.
Surely, there has to be a website for your sort of fantasies right? You see comments on reddit and porn sites so – surely – there’s a site where you could at least talk through your fantasies?
You pick up your phone and begin to type; work abandoned. After forty minutes of searching you find a site, agreeing to terms and conditions and set up a log in; using a faceless image of yourself in your favourite bra. Writing out your biography is a strangely freeing feeling. Openly listing kinks and things you’d like to try; things you’d never, ever tell a random person you’d meet face to face. Its not long before you’re browsing through posts and you can feel the familiar bubble of excitement build. You bite your lip.
It’s a dangerous game but you consider making a post, laying out what you need. You remind yourself of digital footprints but God – you need some form of release that maybe this will help. So you write. It’s not a New York Times Bestseller, but it’ll do. You re-read it, ironing out any spelling mistakes or especially bad grammar and hit the post button. You stare as it publishes your content and sigh softly. You’re not sure how to feel.
“I can always delete it in a few days,” you tell yourself, setting your phone face down and looking back to your laptop. “Yeah. I could always do that.”
You’re running errands a week later when your phone buzzes with a notification. You dismiss it and shrug it off, continuing to walk down the street with your tote over your shoulder. It was a warm day, a deliciously cool breeze in the air and youd taken the time and effort to make yourself up. A cute summer dress that was almost a little revealing, your favourite strawberry lip gloss and make up to exentuate your favourite and best features and your hair, your hair, was just perfect today.
It still didn't stop the ache from your clit though. That was the only downside.
You reached around the snacks in your tote bag to find the keys to your home but your key wouldn’t turn. You frowned a little and try the handle. The front door swung open to an empty apartment. You shiver slightly.
“Must’ve forgot to lock it. Damn.” You murmur to the hallway as you step inside. You turn to lock the door and when the bolt slides home, a gloved handovers your mouth and you’re yanked backwards into a broad, hard chest. You yelp as you’re pulled, legs wobbling but another large hand appears at your hip, holding you steady against your aggressor.
“Welcome home,” a deep voice rumbles from behind you, breath hot on your neck and wisps of facial hair tickling the shell of your ear. You go to make a noise, but the hand encompassing your jaw squeezes hard.
“Ah – ah – ah,” the voice chides teasingly and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “I don’t want you screaming just yet.”
It was like someone had poured ice down your spine. You were spun around and early marched down the short hallway and into the kitchen, your tote ripped from your shoulder and tossed somewhere – you didn’t really care, you were to busy thinking about what would happen next. Marched to the countertop, your aggressor pushed your head flat against the surface, nestling a strong leg between your thighs to stop you trying to make a hasty attempt at escape while a free hand bound your wrists behind your back with what felt like zipties, biting into your skin agonisingly. He made an approving humming sound, and although you couldn’t quite see him, you could feel his eyes roaming over you. Gloved hands ghosted from your knees, to your thighs and to your ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze as the skirt of your dress was lifted over your hips. You felt yourself flush with a mixture of fear and embarassment, knowing your lace panties were being admired.
“All this for me? You shouldn’t have.”
You wriggled feebly, which earned you a harsh smack to on ass cheek, making you squeak with shock. You kick your legs out, earning another, harder smack to your other cheek. This time you cry out, and you hear the voice chuckle.
“Behave, sweetheart,” you hear a belt buckle clink behind you and freeze up. “Or don’t. I don’t really care.”
You whimper when you feel a finger run down to your clit over your panties and you flush again when you feel your legs practically vibrate at the sensation. Another chuckle from the man behind you.
“Oh, sweetheart. Here, let me help.”
You feel your panties slowly and tauntingly slide down over your ass cheeks, your voice dying in your throat the hot flesh between your legs met the cool air of your kitchen. You can feel your panties hang loosely around your ankles and there’s a tap against your leg from a polished shoe. On instinct you raise your foot.
“Good girl,” purrs the voice, tapping your other leg with his foot. You repeat the motion, raising your other leg. There’s a dramatic sigh as the man leans over, swiftly sweeping your panties from the floor. You whimper when he leans over your body, pressing you into the counter. Your bones cry in agony with the pressure and you bite your lip to keep any sort of noise slipping out. Which is futile when a large hand knots in your hair, pulling your hair by the root, forcing you to crane your neck back uncomfortably to look at the man behind you. Tears sting at your eyes but you say nothing, focusing intently as predatory blue eyes bore into you. You can see a playful sneer tugging at his lips beneath a groomed moustache, contorting a handsome face into a dangerously seductive one.
“Hey, pretty girl. Name’s Lloyd. I need you to remember that, got it?”
You don’t think you’d be able to forget it anytime soon but you nod anyway, keeping your teeth firmly pressed against the softness of your lips as you look back at him with glassy wide eyes. His smile widens and he pats your right ass cheek gently.
“Good girl,” He praises, raising your panties to your mouth. “Open wide, pretty girl.”
Your heart beats wildly as you comply, feeling the thick gloved fingers shove the flimsy material into your open mouth. Shame floods you as you feel the dampness of your excitement touch your tounge – this should not turn you on as much as it does. Lloyd takes in your expression, and looks pleased.
“You look good with your mouth full, sunshine.” He teases, squeezing your ass cheek with his free hand before moving to your aching core. Your moan is suppressed by your panties and Lloyd’s fingers in your mouth. Lloyd slips two fingers into your desperate hole with ease, sliding them in and out torturously slow, smirking down at you as your eyes flutter and your legs shift. He teases and flexes his fingers inside of you, spreading and stretching you open with a delicious burn that had you keening around the fingers in your mouth.
“Shit,” He gasps tauntingly. “You’re already soaked. You don’t need the warm-up.”
Your eyes go wide when you feel his cock run over your folds, gathering the slick that had built up between your thighs. You make a muffled sound of protest that evolves into a long moan as Lloyd sheaths his cock into your throbbing cunt. Your eyes roll back and Lloyd’s fingers move from your mouth to wrap around your throat, squeezing your windpipe lightly and pulling you backwards so you’re flush against his chest.
“That’s it, pretty girl.” He coos huskily into your ear, “Take it.”
The hand in your hair moves to your hip, keeping you still as he starts to thrust into you. Lloyd’s moustache tickles at your throat when he trails kisses along the back of your neck, the grip from his hand squeezing so tightly you feel lightheaded. But damn, if it doesn’t feel good. Your pussy grips his cock making Lloyd grunt into your ear, thrusting harder into you. You mewl around your panties, trying to shift your tied hands to no avail.
Lloyd groans as he feels your slick walls flutter around him, milking his cock so well, so quickly. A gloved finger hooks part of your panty and tugs it free from your mouth, throwing to the floor with a wet thud. You take a huge gulp of air before Lloyd’s hand is back around your throat again.
“Who does this pussy belong to?” He growls, tugging your neck back forcefully. You yell out, back arching along with your neck as your hips slam mercilessly against the countertop.
“Y-You!” You cry out, gasping for air when he releases your throat to let you speak. Lloyd clicks his tongue, squeezing your throat again.
“No, no, sweetheart,” he chides, voice low. “Get it wrong again and I’ll have to spank you. Now, let’s try again. Who does this pussy belong to?”
He releases your throat again but this time you almost scream his name. “Lloyd! I-it belongs to yo-“
“That’s right, baby!” Lloyd interrupts you loudly, cutting off your air supply once more. He fucks into you mercilessly, and you’re sure you’ve got Bruises on your hips, but you don’t really care. Lloyd’s sneer against your neck with filthy praises falling from his lips make your head spin and you don’t even notice that you’re cumming over his cock until he releases your neck to let you scream.
“Oh, look at you.” He huffs, continuing the unrelenting pace, loving the feeling of your soaked cunt around him and the way your legs are shaking. “Doin’ so well for me sweetheart. I think I’m gonna have to keep you.”
You whine pitifully, pleasure blurring your brain as you nod along to his words.
“Fuck, you’d like that?” Lloyd groans. His hips stutter for a moment but when he starts to fuck you again, it’s sloppier and less focused. “You’d like to be all mine?”
“Oh – yes!” You half-sob, eyes rolling to look up at the ceiling as you feel your pussy spasm; close to cumming yet again. That spasm is what sends Lloyd over the edge, pinning you in place with his hands on your hips as he coats your walls with his cum. You follow soon after, again, squeezing him for everything he can give.
Your breathing is shallow but you tell when cool metal slips against your wrist, freeing your from the ties. Your hands fly out to grab the counter, steading yourself as you catch your breath.
“Well, sunshine, this was fun.” Lloyd comments nonchalantly as he removes himself from you lazily, prolonging the feeling of his cock slipping from you before giving your ass a pat. “But I’ve got a job nearby – shouldn’t be too long.”
You push yourself up onto your elbows and blink a few times. You glance over your shoulder to see him shoving himself back into his pants quickly. He gives you a wink and a smirk that has a blush creeping up your neck.
“Don’t give me that look,” He says waggling a finger jokingly at you. “I’ll be back later for another round. Or three.”
You nod, still a little shell-shocked and ruminating in post-orgasm bliss. Maybe that website wasn't half bad after all.
Synopsis: At your first wedding anniversary with Dean, you gift him a piece of something he had but thought he'd never get again. AKA, the missing best man speech he never got.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
Word count: 3k words
Content: SPOILERSS! Grief, mentions of death, hurt and maybe comfort if you squint? Light swearing.
Notes: BEAU MAXWELL IS MY SHAYLA AND THIS IS THE ONLY TIME IM GONNA ACKNOWLEDGE THAT HE'S DEAD😭. Writing this has been a challenge for me, but it's also been cathartic. Some of this came from imagination, and some of it came from my own experience. Thank you for reading. All constructive criticism is appreciated, encouraged, and thank you everyone for the engagement!! It means so much <3
Dean had been insufferable all week.
“I got you the best gift ever.” he says at the breakfast table one morning.
You didn’t even look up from your coffee. “You don’t know what my gift for you is.” you say.
“I don’t need to.” he said smugly. “I’ve won this.”
You raise an eyebrow. “You sound very confident.”
“I am.” he doesn’t even bother hiding it.
“You’re going to absolutely love me.” he says in a sing-song voice.
“You’ve become unbelievably unbearable in just one year.” you say with fake exasperation lacing your voice.
“I’ve earned the right to be unbearable!” he defends.
You smile despite yourself.
“We’ll see.”
Your first wedding anniversary wasn’t anything extravagant. Neither of you had wanted that. Just the people that mattered to you guys were there. Your closest friends and family.
The venue itself was fancy, scattered with round tables everywhere with a fancy ivory tablecloth and fancy cutlery.
People drifted between conversations, old stories resurfacing.
Someone inevitably bought up all the honeymoon disasters.
Someone else bought up the time you and Dean didn’t talk to each other for two whole days because you were supporting opposing football teams.
You laughed so hard you almost spilled your drink. You caught Dean’s eyes on you from across the room, happy to see you enjoying.
Eventually came the gifts.
Dean went first, obviously.
He placed a velvet box in front of you with the air of a man that had bought the sun and moon for his wife’s gift.
“Open it.” he said excitedly.
You did. Inside was a necklace.
The necklace featured a simple gold chain, but with a rectangular resin piece, encasing a small, pressed flower plated in gold. The pendant also had a gold border shaped like intertwining vines, your and dean’s initials curled together in elegant gold script, in a beautiful gold colour, making this the most valuable piece of jewellery you’d ever owned.
You gasped. “Dean, this is- this is beautiful!” you exclaimed.
He was kneeling in front of you. “The flower is from your wedding bouquet.” he says softly.
You feel your eyes well up with tears. “Dean…” you start. “This is the best gift anyone has ever given me.” you pull him up and into a hug, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.
“I hate how good you are at this.” you admit.
“I had help from Hannah.” he mutters.
“I don’t care.” you look up and kiss him. The room applauds.
You turn around so he can help you wear it before he kisses your neck and guides you to sit back down.
Dean sits back in his chair and leans back, a smug smile taking up permanent residence on his face.
“Nothing beats that.” he boasts.
“Oh?” you question, excitement making your stomach churn.
Once everyone had settled, you stood up. You picked up a remote for the huge projector and connected your phone to it.
“This is my gift for you,” you say, nervous as well as eager for this.
“A slideshow?” Dean raises an eyebrow.
“Nope.”
“A speech?” he asks.
“Nope!”
His expression morphs into one of horror.
“You wrote me a song?”
You hit him with the remote. “No, idiot!”
“Thank God…” he sighed. You glare at him before picking up a mic.
“Lades and gentlemen.” you begin, and all conversations come to a soft halt.
“Today, we’re celebrating one year of us.” you look around at the room- at all the people that have been there for you during different stages of your life.
Your eyes pause at the table with Hannah, Garrett, Logan, Grace, Tucker, Sabrina, and little Jamie. They continue moving until they reach the family table. Your parents, Dean’s parents… and Beau’s. Dean absolutely insisted that they have a place at that table, and you weren’t going to refuse.
“One year is a long time. And when people talk about our marriage, they always talk about the big moments.” you smile.
“The moments that made us, us. But there are also the people that got us here…”
A pause. Dean’s smile fades slightly, but not because he’s worried. It fades because he knows that tone, and he’s listening.
“One year ago today… there was someone else that was supposed to be standing next to Dean at that altar.”
There’s a sharp change in the atmosphere. A few people sit up straighter. Nobody needs you to say his name.
“Someone that would have spent the entire morning teasing Dean for crying over which colour tie to wear…” a tiny laugh escaped someone in the audience.
“but also someone that would have given the most heartfelt speech in the room.”
You pause.
“Beau, his best man.”
The room is so quiet you could hear the birds chirp outside. You smile despite the ache in your chest.
“I know Dean has spent the last year thinking about what he would have said, even though he doesn’t admit it.”
You meet his eyes with a soft expression. Not pity in your eyes, but love. Understanding.
“Maybe…” your voice catches. “Maybe he doesn’t have to wonder anymore.”
Dean’s expression shifts.
“No.” he says, voice quiet in a way you’ve hardly heard before.
“Yes.” you say to him gently.
His eyes dart between you and the huge white projector screen lowering itself on the huge wall. “What…?”
The video loads on the screen. It flickers, but then-
Beau.
Young.
Alive.
Wearing his lucky football jersey he was seen in more than anything, curls messier than anyone remembers.
Dean forgets to breathe.
Across the room, Beau’s mom presses both hands on her mouth before a sound can escape.
His dad’s eyes are stuck on the screen. He looks like he can’t bear to watch it but can’t bear to look away either.
Dean’s mom reaches across the table and takes Beau’s mother’s hand. Neither of them say anything.
The video begins in the off campus house. A younger you is adjusting the camera on the mantel so it doesn’t fall while Beau laughs at you.
Hearing that laugh, Dean freezes.
It’s been over a year since he’s heard that voice, heard that laugh. For over a year he’d been terrified that one day he’d wake up and forget that sound. Now it crashes into him with an onslaught of emotions. It was warm, familiar, but made his chest ache all the same.
His fingers white knuckle the edge of his chair. Your fingers immediately find his under the table, and he squeezes your hand so hard it hurts. But you don’t say anything.
“You’re recording this?” Beau on screen teases.
“Hey, some day 20 years in the future we’re gonna be looking back at this and laughing.” you say, walking back from the phone and seating yourself.
The venue stills. Twenty years.
You said twenty years in such a sure way, like it was a guarantee. The thought that he might not have even another two years not crossing any of your minds.
“So, Beau Maxwell.” you begin in the video. “Future best man. Give us a preview of the speech.”
Beau laughs in that easy going way of his. “Not on camera! You’re going to use this to blackmail me.”
You chuckle. “This is something I learnt in a drama workshop I did.” Beau groans immediately.
“Record yourself giving a speech, so you can watch yourself later and see how you come across. Y’know, your posture, pacing, body language, yada yada.” you convince him.
Beau rolls his eyes so dramatically that everyone watching the video laughs.
“Okay, wait.”
He stands up and pretends to brush imaginary dust off of his pants. He looks around the room for a second before settling on a random jacket in the hockey house living room- Dean’s, and wears it.
“This,” he announces proudly. “Is my suit.”
“If you actually wear that to our wedding,” you begin, threat evident in your voice. “I will actually kick you out, best man speech be damned.”
He ignores you and picks up a glass and spoon from the kitchen, tapping it together, making a pitiful noise.
“Oh my god, you’re going to break the glass!” you scold him playfully.
“All worth it for your wedding,” he says solemnly.
The tension in the hall is so thick it could be cut with a knife. Dean lets out a breath that sounds like the beginning of a sob.
On the screen, blissfully unawaure, Beau clears his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” he announces confidently in the empty room.
“So, apparently I’m supposed to be giving a speech.” he continues.
You snort on camera. “You literally begged to be the best man!”
He looks offended. “Please, I was coerced!”
You give him a no-nonsense look. “You made a grand show of going on both your knees acting like you were the one proposing to him.”
Beau smirks. “Like I said, I was manipulated.”
You give the camera a deadpan look.
The room erupts in laughter again. Even Dean laughs through his tears, shaking his head.
“Well, I’ve known Dean since ages.” he starts seriously. “I’ve seen all his phases, from the time he was convinced that wearing Nike basketball shorts and grinding in the gym daily, even in the winter, just to impress girls, was-”
He’s cut off by your laugh.
“I can’t do this if you’re laughing!”
“I’m not saying anything!” you protest.
He shakes his head.
“Okay. Again.”
“I’ve known Dean for…” his brows furrow and he looks intensely concentrated.
You ask him in the most strained tone ever. “Are you trying to calculate how long it’s been since you guys have been friends?”
Next to you, Dean mutters "Not long enough."
Beau gives a guilty smile, which is met by a cushion you throw at his face.
“Ow! You broke my nose!” he clutches at his face dramatically. “That’s the moneymaker!”
“Are you going to give the speech, Maxwell, or should I tell Nick to start writing his own speech?”
He glares at you. “Here I was going to talk about how kind you are.” He glances at the camera. “But she’s also incredibly annoying.”
His face lights up like he just came to a realization.
“That’s why you and Dean are perfect for each other!”
Dean's eyes break away from the screen and he gives you a soft kiss, conveying all the gratitude he felt to you for giving him this.
On screen, Beau’s just standing there, mouth open, like he’s discovered the secret of the universe when another pillow is thrown at his face. He retaliates and throws it back, his quarterback skills making sure the pillow hits your arm. You try to throw it back, but somehow end up knocking down the phone.
When the phone is back upright, you back away and sigh.
“Okay. Again.”
Beau groans. “If I do it properly, can we go back to watching TV?”
“Deal.” you agree.
He cleared his throat dramatically.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” he announces confidently to the nearly empty room.
“Dean has been an important person in my life ever since high school.”
“I was with him when he put diesel in his petrol car.” he smiles fondly at the memory.
“When he fell for his first pyramid scheme. Or when he bought a whole shipment of redbull before deciding he didn’t like it.”
The room laughs, remembering all of this.
“And somehow, he’s made it to adulthood.” he looks at you.
“He’s also managed to find someone else that puts up with his antics.” Beau’s smile softens.
“I always knew I’d be standing next to him when he got married.”
Dean lets out a loud sob at that, but no one says anything. Even Garrett looks teary eyed.
Dean had kept Beau’s empty spot at the wedding. An empty chair next to you both at the reception. No one had questioned it.
“So did almost everyone who knew us since high school. Granted, they thought we’d be standing right next to each other and I’d be reciting vows instead of giving a speech, but that honour has been reserved for our lovely piranha here.”
A knot develops in your throat at that familiar nickname, while the room laughs.
“After meeting you, Dean became soft in a way I never thought I’d see.” He pauses.
“He started saying lovey dovey shit like-” he pauses and looks at you with a panicked expression. “Fuck, can I say shit?- Fuck, I can’t say fuck either can I?”
He takes one look at your murderous expression and continues his speech.
“While I do miss pre-domesticated Dean, the Dean that was up for any bad idea without saying ‘I’ll have to check with my girlfriend’ first, I don’t miss wondering if he was ever going to be happy.”
You smile.
Beau directs his next words to you.
“Meeting you has changed him in a lot of ways, yeah, but I’m glad they did.” Beau’s voice becomes a little quiet.
“He still drives me insane, but…”
“Gone are the days I was worried that he wouldn’t find true happiness.”
Dean bows his head. Beau never got to find his.
Dean would spend the rest of his life wishing he could somehow trade places with him, just once.
Just long enough for Beau to know this kind of happiness too.
“I’ve seen so many versions of him. I’ve seen the loud Dean.” Beau starts listing off.
“Angry Dean.”
“Dean when he refused to believe that he was in love.”
He smirks. “That one was painful to watch.”
His voice becomes sincere. “But I’ve never seen Dean as happy as he is with you. As carefree, or as peaceful as you make him.”
Beau looks at you in the video.
“So I’m honoured to be the one that Dean chose to help him with a new version of himself- him on his wedding day.”
Dean wipes away his tears, and leans into you. You wrap your arms around him in a way that’s become familiar over the past few years.
He’s looking at the screen with an intensity that borders on desperation, like if he memorizes everything Beau does, he won’t lose another piece of him when this video ends.
You in the video start crying as well.
Beau groans. “You’re getting emotional!”
“Am not!” you say, wiping away a tear.
He points at you accusingly. “Stop crying.”
“Mind your own business.” you retort.
“Delete this video.” he protests.
“Nope!” you say with a wet laugh.
“Okay, I don’t know how to end this…” Beau grumbles.
“D… I think you’ve found the right person for you. Don’t mess this up.” he says seriously.
“I hope, years from now…”
He pauses.
“She’s still the first person you call when something happens.”
“The first person you want to see after a bad game.”
“You still reach for her hand without thinking.”
He smiles at you again.
“As someone who used to be Dean’s favourite for a long time… I hope you enjoy growing up with him as much as I did.”
There isn’t a dry eye left in the room anymore. His father watches the screen with a heaviness that’s specific to a father hearing his son’s voice after believing he’s heard it for the last time as a scream.
Dean covers his face with his hands.
He would give anything to argue with Beau about anything again. Anything to lose another bet. Anything to hear him tease him about how whipped he was.
Nobody tells you that, after someone dies, you don’t just miss the big moments.
You miss the ordinary ones as well.
The ones you never thought to treasure because they weren’t anything special.
In the hockey house living room, Beau holds your eyes for a second.
“Beau… that was amazing.” you say breathlessly.
“And if y'all ever have kids, you know I’m going to tell them all the embarrassing shit you did together.” he grins.
“I’ll be their godfather Beau.” He looks at the ceiling of the hockey house and smirks. “The rest of these idiots can have uncle status.”
You laugh. “Done?”
Beau bows dramatically.
“For now.” he says.
He points at the camera. “I’ll save the good stuff for the wedding. I have time.” he says with a self assured grin.
The words hang in the air.
You’re about to speak again when the sound of a door opening disrupts you.
A blur of sweat and a hockey jersey shoots through the room before sweeping you up in a hug so hard your feet leave the floor.
You laugh and shriek. “Dean! Put me down!”
Beau laughs as the rest of the hockey team files into the room post practice, Tucker faceplanting on the couch you were just sitting on.
Garrett opened the fridge and raided it.
Logan shouted something about Dean’s stinky shoes.
Sabrina rolled her eyes at all of the chaos.
Nobody appreciated the moment. They took it for granted, thinking they’d have thousands more just like it.
He walks over to the phone and picks it up before pointing it towards both of you in an embrace, saying something before ending it.
“They’re going to be just fine together.”
The screen fades to black.
Nobody moves. The silence in the hall stretches.
Dean stands before hugging you so tight your blood circulation cuts off.
There’s no trace of his smug personality from just 10 minutes ago as he holds onto you.
“Thank you.” he says, words holding a lot of weight.
He only lets go of you when he walks over to Beau’s parents. He doesn’t say anything.
He drops to his knees besides their table and hugs his mother first.
She’s sobbing, holding him in the same way she did at the funeral.
Beau’s father places his hand on Dean’s trembling shoulder.
“I miss him.” Dean says. Such simple yet heartbreaking words.
“In a way, it’s a good thing.” Beau’s mom whispers in his ear.
At Dean’s confused silence, she explains.
“Missing him means you had someone worth grieving, and I think that’s beautiful.”
Dean just sobs harder. For a moment, no one can tell where one family’s grief ends and the other’s begins.
Disclaimer: I know that in the book, Dean didn't attend Beau's funeral, but I really liked the line and didn't want to remove it.
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