೫ ‧₊ CALL ME MIO/BUNNY ! twenty one. she/her/hers. lost at sea.
law student. nathan scott's wife. jesse moriano smoking buddy. beau arlen unconventionally young wife. too many husbands to list. loves cookies. pink&brown. hunger games. one tree hill. coffee lover. gilmore girl. black woman. adhd. goldfish memory. miffy. bunny. black!reader.
೫ ‧₊ WELCOME TO MY BLOG !
if you come from wattpad, hi babies. if you discover my account by lurking or reading my work, hi lovelies. either way, have a nice time over here.
me, a writer, at 3am: WHAT? I CANT FIND THE SPECIFIC FANFIC THAT I MADE UP IN MY MIND WITH A WHOLE PLOT AND ORIGINAL CHARACTERS??? WHO DO THEY THINK THEY ARE??? DO THEY EXPECT ME TO WRITE THE STORY I THOUGHT UP OF???
I REFUSE to believe Erica was the only girl who had a crush on stiles. Like my mind cannot fathom it. He’s funny, smart (like almost genius smart), awkward, and I mean look at him.
Like come on now, they really tried to tell us this boy had no admirers
screaming, crying, throwing up, as I force myself to write a story i'm very passionate about and love writing and have no obligation to write except that i want to
i hate how you get desensitized to the cool stuff in your WIP if you've been writing it for a long time so when you read back over it you're like "this isn't as cool as i thought :(" but it still is! you just read it too many times
im sorry i need like FILTHY sex with dean, like cum everywhere, spit, literally anything but he's whispering the sweetest words to u while he does it JDISKSKSKSJ
cw: smut.ᐟ oral [f.receiving].ᐟ messy sex [p in v].ᐟ stubble!dean.ᐟ praise kink.ᐟ pet names [sweetheart, baby].ᐟ overstimulation.ᐟ 18+
hii anon, I hope this was filthy enough for youuu ㅤ♡ྀི
it starts with his mouth. not a sweet kiss. not even a word. just dean dropping to his knees and dragging you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles. he’s spreading your legs like he’s starving and you’re the only goddamn thing that could satisfy him.
“lemme have it, baby, please” he mutters, voice low and hot against your inner thigh, as he kisses his way up. “been such a long day f’me, fuck, you don’t even know.”
you don’t even have a chance to answer, not really. he’s already burying his face between your legs, tongue flat and wide as he licks up your slit, slow and heavy. groaning like he’s a kid in a fucking candy store.
“such a pretty pussy. i don’t know if i wanna fuck it or eat it” he murmurs in between. try and act like that didn’t have you even wetter than before.
his stubble is rough, from a few days grown out. and it’s mean. scratching at your skin with every pass of his jaw. it leaves your thighs red and raw, clit swollen from the friction, sensitive to the point of delirium.
he doesn’t even try to be gentle with it, sucking on you, like he’s trying to leave a permanent mark of red, puffy and used.
“fuck dean—” you gasp, fisting the sheets with clumsy hands. your hips jerk when he sucks your clit into his mouth, nose pressed firm against your slit.
but dean doesn’t stop until you’re sobbing and messy. until your thighs are sticky, shining and scratched up from his stubble. until your clit’s so overstimulated it twitches when he does so much as breathe on it.
only then does he lick each finger clean, looking up at you with those wrecked green eyes and a slick-smiled face, and say “think she’s ready for me now, sweetheart” with a little pat pat to your clit.
before you know it you hear the clink of dean’s belt while you’re still catching your breath, creamy rivulets down your inner thighs.
“c’mon,” he grunts, tugging you by the hips like you weigh nothing. “turn around f’me, baby. lemme see that perfect ass.”
you’re hazy but compliant. letting him flip you like a rag doll. your chest hits the mattress, back arched as invitation. dean rubs your slick onto the flushed tip of his pretty fat cock, spreading it like lube and pushes every inch of himself inside until your breath stutters and every little whine and mewl is muffled into the pillow.
“there we go, baby, just like that, s’my fuckin’ girl” he encourages. looking down to see your cunt stretch around the base of him, how perfect you always mold around his cock, even after a few days away on a hunt.
his hips roll, slow at first. wet, loud, and sloppy. every thrust sounded obscene, the room filled with nothing but slick and choked-off gasps slipping from your mouth.
“got the prettiest pussy” he mutters, leaning over your back, stubble scraping your shoulder as he mouths along your skin. “got ‘er all stretched open n’ full of me, s’how it should be.”
you whine something incoherent, words jumbling into moans. he’s always been— gifted we’ll say, and good at taking care of you, but every time felt like the first.
dean’s hands were so tight on your hips, you knew he'd leave bruises tomorrow. eyes rolling to the back of your head as he fucked you into your orgasm, not even sure which one you were on at this point.
and when he flips you into another position, on your back, thighs pushed into your chest, ankles resting on his wide shoulders. when you ask if he’s ‘done’ or that “it’s too much,” with drool falling from your mouth.
your met with him bracing a palm over your throat, just a reminder that your his. that his next hunt wouldn’t be so long. and a “i know baby. i know” looking into your cock-drunk eyes.
he wants to see every inch of your creamy skin marked by him. whether it’s his cum, bruising from his lips, or the chafe of his stubble, it’s all the same in his eyes.
so that’s why he’s pulling out last second. pumping thick white stripes on your belly, tits, and your soppy ruined cunt. he makes sure you can feel it drip, slow and hot.
it’s pooling against your clit. a line of his seed clings to your slit and seeps down between your cheeks. another trails down your belly until it settles into the dip of your navel, warm and wet.
“fuck, sweetheart,” he whispers, breathless. “look at you. my pretty baby covered in me.” like he’s in awe of what he did.
dean’s got you cleaning his cock off with your mouth, tasting your combined releases. any and— every reminder that you’re his for keeping.
