╰┈> summary: your obsessed with biting deans biceps.
dean had long since accepted that you were weird.
at first he’d catch you zoning out during research, your chin propped in your palm, eyes nowhere near the lore book in front of you- instead staring at his arms. specifically, whenever he rolled the sleeves of his flannel past his elbows.
dean leaned back in his chair trying—and failing—to hide the smug grin spreading across his face.
“sweetheart” he teased, “you got a thing for muscles?”
you buried your face in your hands with a groan. “…its embarrassing.”
“nah.” his grin widened. “kinda flattering.”
then it started as a joke the first time you grabbed his arm during a movie marathon, frowned thoughtfully before sinking your teeth into the solid curve of his bicep- the toned skin rough under your soft lips.
“ow- what the hell?” dean groaned looking at the noticeable marks of your teeth dug into his skin.
“you just look biteable!” you whined, nudging your cheek into his bicep.
“…seriously? no wonder the hounds love me..”
you nodded with complete sincerity before kissing the mark gently like you hadn’t just assaulted him…
…now it was just… a thing.
dean would be sprawled across the motel bed after a hunt, sleeves rolled up and exhausted. you’d wander over without a word, curl up against his side, wrap around his arm with both hands and bite. not hard enough to hurt—just enough to leave the faint crescent marks and kisses that disappeared by morning.
“there she goes.” dean would sigh dramatically. “my little vampire, always gotta have somethin in your mouth huh?”
you’d hum against his skin taking in his scent- taking in him and refusing to let go while he’d try to keep up the fake complaints.
“y’know normal girlfriends kiss their boyfriends…”
“i do kiss you!”
“you also gnaw on me.”
“it’s affectionate.” you sigh while dean rolls his eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck.
“…yeah.” he’d mutter unable to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth- unable to hide how much he actually enjoys the feel of your lips all over him.
Summary: Your first-ever solo hunt with Dean doesn’t go as planned when the ‘creature’ you’re hunting is actually Soldier Boy. The plan changes and goes wrong quickly.
♡ warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, solider boy x dean x user, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, u pee urself, dean cucking (?) + slightly submissive (?), pussy + face slapping, spit, intox, strip club, drugs, swearing, pet names (sweeheart, doll, whore, bitch), consent mentioned, threats, no mentions of y/n, reader-insert.
wc: 6.1k | no idea what possessed me to do this. enjoy……. Posting older!bf oneshot later tooooo yay!!
“So, why… are we drivin’ this far away?” Dean asks, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
“Reports say… there’s some… man, tormenting people, ruining neighbourhoods, disturbing residents at their homes…” You ramble on, flipping through the small pages of your notebook, squinting in the dark Impala.
“Sounds like the son of a bitch is just havin’ a bad day,” Dean responds, glancing over at your notes. “Doesn’t seem like our type of… deal,” he shrugs, using one hand to rub his jaw.
“Well, reports say… he might have superpowers, or some sort,” you shake your head, flipping through more pages. “Super strength, doing damage to things you shouldn’t be doing damage to,” you explain, glancing over at Dean.
He sighs and keeps his eyes on the road, carefully steering Baby through the winding roads in the night. He glances over at you again, reaching over to lightly tap a page, his ring glinting in the moonlight.
“What’s that about?” Dean asks, glancing over and then back at the road.
You scoff. “It says if we were to find him… he’d be at a strip club, probably.”
“Now we’re talking,” he smiles, tapping the steering wheel excitedly. “Super strength, watchin’ ladies strip… doesn’t sound like he’s doin’ much wrong,” Dean shrugs, and he leans on the gas a bit more.
“Yeah… except he’s tormenting people, and being a complete dick, Dean,” you shoot back, but he still has a shit-eating grin on his face, suddenly eager to get to small town. “It says he’s dangerous, calls himself ‘Soldier Boy’.”
“The song?” he asks, looking over at you, and you immediately roll your eyes.
“No… no, ‘Soldier Boy’, like… a soldier?” you glare at Dean, and he’s smirking, purposely making you frustrated with him. What’s new.
“I say we hit the strip clubs,” Dean declares.
The black Impala winds down the long roads, taking the two of you deeper into the small town, and Dean takes those damn glances at you; constant eyes finding your thighs, and he’s glad Sam is off somewhere, probably doing something with Ruby, and doesn’t have him in his ear, telling him how wrong it is to find you attractive.
You had joined in the little trio when you were old enough to—Bobby’s your father, and trusts you with the Winchester boys more than he’d like to admit. And with your passion for hunting, and how damn well you do it, it would almost be blasphemy for them to ignore your skills.
It left you in an odd place: between Sam and Dean. Dean was always flirting with you, even when he’d bring home some blonde bimbo from the bar, shooing you and Sam out of the motel until he was finished. And Sam was Ruby now, occupied beyond belief, doing suspicious things behind the scenes that broke some brotherly bond you couldn’t understand.
And now here you are, doing a case alone, with Dean Winchester. The first one ever.
Baby rolls to a stop, parking along a curb, bright neon lights casting a constant glow onto the car. The sign is bright and loud, and Dean smirks at the name: Lustful Lounge.
Dean is out of the Impala before you, and you’re scrambling behind him, quickly joining his side. His hands are stuffed in his pockets, only to flash the fake FBI badge at the bouncers, and he nudges you to do the same.
Mister and Misses Smith for tonight, completely unrelated. Very, very believable, Dean.
“This is a job, I hope you remember that,” you mumble to him as you walk down the long hallway, with a red tinge to the lighting, and you hear the loud music growing louder.
“Yeah… a job with strippers,” he nudges you again, smiling and fake-smoothing out his hair, before dipping into the small entrance.
There are several stages scattered around; women on poles move, swaying their hips and shaking their breasts, skimpy outfits bejewelled in rhinestones, and it reeks of marijuana, the smell coming from the back, away from the regular customers. Dean looks like a kid in a candy store, and so does Soldier Boy.
He’s lounging in one of the chairs in the VIP section, a blonde woman doing a solo dance for him, and he’s smoking a joint, nodding. Her hips twist, and her long legs bend, and he’s not even bothering to throw cash, merely observing and taking it in for himself.
“Dean,” you nudge him with your elbow when you notice his eyes straying away, focusing on the exotic dancers instead of the task at hand: operation find Soldier Boy, and get him out of there.
You lightly take hold of his hand and groan in frustration, taking him deeper into the strip club, and a VIP sign flashes. Bingo.
Another two flashes of your badges grant you access into the room, and two bouncers hold the odd beaded drapes that hide it, and your eyes widen the minute you see him: Soldier Boy.
You look at Dean and then Soldier Boy: sharp green eyes, the same sculpted nose, soft lips, a smirk that they both have on while looking at the same woman—Soldier Boy’s hair is longer than Dean's, and he’s bigger than him too, and your lips part in awe. Maybe it’s the light playing tricks on you, morphing Soldier Boy’s face. It can’t be.
Dean hasn’t even noticed.
“Who ordered this whore?” Soldier Boy suddenly calls out, his finger pointing directly towards you. “And… her fuckin’ cuck of a boyfriend, too,” he laughs, barely noticing the stark similarities the two have. But Dean does.
“Jesus Christ,” Dean curses the minute his eyes find Soldier Boy, and it’s like he’s staring in a damn mirror, if the mirror ages you about twenty years. “This son of a bitch stole my face!”
You’re too in shock to notice Dean taking steps towards the man lounging on the couch, and he glares at Dean, eyes narrowing at the younger version of himself. He blows a plume of smoke out of his mouth, but purposely towards his twin's face.
“You stole my face, kid,” Soldier Boy retorts, tilting his head to the side. “Been here for hundreds of fuckin’ years, America’s greatest. Ain’t copying some washed-up pussy, and his slut that’s too much of a bitch to come over here.”
Soldier Boy makes that sound that sounds like nails on a chalkboard–it’s like he’s calling a cat over, a gross kissy noise with his lips, and he’s calling you over with a wave of his hand, and you slowly begin to walk over. You feel like you’re more surprised than Dean is.
“No… no, I have been here for just as long as you have,” Dean retorts, pointing at the man lounging, and Soldier Boy laughs. “You’re just some old shapeshifting fucker.”
“Shapeshifting?” Soldier Boy howls, shaking his head. “Is this some fantasy, role-play kinky shit between the two of you?” he uses his blunt to gesture between your bodies. “It’s fuckin’ disgustin’, and you’re not even strippin’ for me,” he calls directly to you.
“What? I’m not a stripper–” you quickly say and shake your head, but Soldier Boy interrupts.
“With that fuckin’ body? A god damn shame you’re not,” he scoffs, and Dean, well, agrees.
“I’ve told her this,” Dean chimes in, nudging you a little and Soldier Boy narrows his eyes.
“How much you payin’ her?” Soldier Boy suddenly asks, gazing between the two of you. “Prostitutes around here don’t usually look that fuckable.”
Soldier Boy eyes you more closely, and it’s weird—not even because of how filthy he’s being, but because of how closely he resembles Dean, who is currently red in the face from anger, or embarrassment.
“I’m not a prostitute, I’m…” you mumble, fishing out your fake FBI card, and he immediately snatches it.
“Ah, a liar and a whore, Miss… Smith,” Soldier Boy mumbles, his eyes raking over the fake name and shitty photo. “Lookin’ like a real doll in the photo though,” he grins, handing back the ID with two fingers, and you snatch it and shove it in the pocket of your jacket.
“Listen,” Dean mumbles, leaning a bit closer to his doppelganger. “We just wanna know what the fuck is goin’ on, okay? If this is some trickster shit, or whatever the hell,” he murmurs, and Soldier Boy is staring at Dean like he’s speaking another language.
“Jesus Christ, this really is some kinky shit,” Soldier Boy barks, reaching over to grab you by the hip. “He payin’ you? He a cuck?” he asks, eyebrows raised, and he casually hooks his arm around your thigh, drawing you to the edge of the leather chair.
“Yes,” you say softly, nodding and gazing down at the man, and you can feel the look on Dean’s face without looking. “We…are… we are looking for a third,” you grin, and Soldier Boy looks at Dean. You’re trying not to laugh.
“She fuckin’ with me?” he asks, and Dean looks at you–you shoot him a death glare, and he does that face, that stupid shit-eating grin, though it’s mixed with dread.
“No,” Dean says through the forced smile. “She’s my girlfriend.”
Soldier Boy keeps his arm hooked around your thigh, and you mentally curse for deciding to wear a short skirt instead of the usual jeans you stick with. He taps his thumb against your bare leg and looks up at you, his jaw clenching.
“Your fantasy is to fuck a guy that looks like your… boyfriend, in front of your boyfriend?” Soldier Boy drawls, bringing his joint to his lips. “That’s fucked… some real slut shit you’re on,” he shakes his head, looking at Dean.
You roll your eyes, and Dean looks like he wants to kill himself; he’s just staring at Soldier Boy and the firm grip he has on your thigh, the awkward position that puts him eye-level with your stomach. He grits his teeth and sighs.
“So, are you gonna… have sex with my girlfriend or what?” Dean speaks up, his words coming out harsh, like he’s forcing them out of his mouth–he is; he wants no part of this.
“‘Course I am,” Soldier Boy shrugs, sliding his hand out from your thigh to firmly pat your ass. “Would’ve fucked her even if she really was just an FBI agent anyway,” he mumbles, gripping the back of your thigh.
You awkwardly squirm on your feet, trying to ignore the woman who is still half-naked, dancing on the pole before the three of you, the bright, neon lights in your eyes, and Soldier Boy is standing on his feet, sighing heavily.
“We’re parked just outside,” you chime in, and Soldier Boy casually wraps his arm around your waist, looking down at you.
“You got some fuckin’ nerve, doin’ this to a fool like him,” he drawls, nodding towards Dean, who is glaring at you and the overly large version of himself. “Can’t blame you though… looks like he wouldn’t know how to fuck a woman if she came with a manual.”
“We look the same,” Dean immediately shoots, his eyebrows furrowed.
You bite your lip, trying your hardest not to laugh at this interaction–Dean is oddly less concerned than you thought. He’s more so convinced that this is some trickster bullshit, and this entire situation has been planned perfectly, just to get the three of you alone, and then he can finally strike and kill the juiced-up man. He doesn’t believe for a second this is a hundred-year-old superhero who just so happened to steal his face, and slap on some facial hair, and maybe fifty pounds of muscle.
The three of you slowly leave the club, and Soldier Boy nods to the few bouncers who seem to have let the criminal off the hook–probably paid them off with the wads of cash he took from the fucking bank. You had read it in the report: rabid man running through the streets, shouting profanities and threatening to do worse. And now his arm is hooked around your waist, heading towards the impala.
Soldier Boy nudges his broad shoulders into the back of Baby, and you sit in the passenger’s seat, your eyes on the road. Dean looks in the rearview mirror, still trying to shake the feeling of having his long-lost twin in the back, who is around twenty years older than he is. He sighs and turns the key to the ignition.
“We doin’ this at a motel? Or do one of you sick fucks wanna do this in your bed?” Soldier Boy chimes, leaning forward, his eyes gazing at the curve of your neck. “Wouldn’t mind either, just wanna make your girlfriend know what it’s like to be fucked by a real man, you know?”
“Motel,” you say softly, nodding, and Soldier Boy clicks his tongue.
“Thought you’d be more of a degenerate,” he shrugs, looking out of the car windows. “Almost feel bad for this kid–he’s gonna watch me defile you,” he says it so plainly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“You’re not gonna–” Dean grits his teeth, and he has to stop himself from blowing up the entire plan.
“Oh, yes I am,” Soldier Boy taunts, nodding. “Gonna force you to watch me fuck her brains out–-doll, what’s your favourite position?” he then switches his attention to you, and you blank.
“She likes missionary, all the romance shit,” Dean plays into it, and you furrow your eyebrows, glaring at him.
“I ain’t do the romance shit, but I can put your legs behind your head,” Soldier Boy shrugs, his head tilting to the side slightly. “You flexible?”
“She is,” Dean speaks up for you, glancing in the rearview mirror, and Soldier Boy is smiling, nodding.
“Is some other kinky shit?” he asks, looking at the side of your face. “He does all the talkin’, and you sit here like a sex doll?”
“No,” you cut in, shooting the criminal a glare, and he lifts his hands in defence.
Silence fills the Impala, a brief break, and you swallow hard, trying to act like this scenario is normal. Somehow, fighting vampires and ghouls makes more sense than having a hundred-year-old soldier in the back, with the face of Dean Winchester, with the sex drive of an animal in heat.
“So, Soldier Boy,” Dean starts, swiping his tongue over his lips. “Where did you come from?”
“Why does that matter?” he asks, leaning back into the seats. “Never gonna see me again after this; you don’t need to know lick about me, or whatever else the fuck you two freaks need to know,” he shoots, his eyes noticing the flickering red motel sign.
You glance at Dean, who is already looking at you, realizing this was a lot harder than you initially had thought. Most vampires and demons, whatever the hell you stumble upon, have thousands of years of lore written down in books and on the internet, and you’ve never come across a gem like this, one that seems to be aware of the fact he’s being hunted, but still taking offers to fuck random women. You swallow hard when Baby rolls into the parking lot.
The three of you head into the motel room, and Soldier Boy makes it a point to slap your ass the second all of you are in the small room, and Dean is seething at the constant remarks–if only Dean knew that he sounds the same sometimes, but usually a bit less… filthy.
Soldier Boy sits on the bed, while you and Dean sit on the two small chairs. His brows are forever furrowed, and his arms are crossed, head cocked to the side, realizing this might not be exactly what he expected: a hookup with a girl, while his twin watches. He clenches his jaw.
“We’re just… gonna set some… boundaries first,” you lightly explain and nod, and Dean lifts his hand, half-covering his mouth, trying not to laugh. “To… make it safe.”
“Safe? Is there some fuckin’ waiver I gotta sign before fuckin’ you?” he asks, those green eyes looking into yours, and you swallow hard, shaking your head. “Usually I pay for the slut, and she shuts the fuck up. Nothin’ about a god damn waiver or rules, or safety.”
Dean rolls his eyes and leans back in the chair, his legs parting, and Soldier Boy turns his head, gazing at him. He narrows his eyes at the young version of himself, all while he lifts his hand, waving for you to come over. You look to Dean, who is reciprocating the stare-off, and you stand to your feet, walking towards the Supe.
“Isn’t this better?” Soldier Boy asks, and it’s only after he’s pulled you onto his thigh, forcing you to sit on the thick muscle. “Easier to listen when I have a plaything just waitin’ on my lap, you know? You wouldn't,” he grins and looks at Dean.
The sight has Dean’s fists clenching; you’re sitting on this grown man’s lap, his hand wrapped around your waist, a hand against your stomach, holding you up straight, the other hand slyly sliding down to inch up your skirt. It’s barely noticeable, but Dean notices, and he can’t say a word. This is a part of the plan, yeah?
“Soldier Boy…” Dean mumbles through that fake smile, but he’s interrupted.
“Ben, you can call me that too,” he shrugs lazily, keeping you on his thigh, and you oddly adjust your hips, looking up at the motel ceiling. You swallow hard, trying to ignore the firm limb between your legs, and how it doesn’t feel… like the worst thing in the world.
“Okay, Ben,” Dean starts again sarcastically, hastily rolling his eyes, looking at you and then the larger version of himself. “Can’t be beatin’ around the bush, you have to tell us some stuff before I let you… you know,” he mumbles, gesturing with his hands.
“You sure?” Ben asks, raising his eyebrows. “This bitch is already drippin’ all over my fuckin’ thigh; it doesn’t seem like she needs to know anythin’ else,” he shoots, shaking his head.
Your eyes widen, and you shake your head too. “What? No—”
Dean grimaces and looks down at Ben’s thigh and then up your body; the way your chest is heaving, the flush creeping up your neck, the sweat brimming at your hairline. His forehead wrinkles in disgust, and he realizes this man might not be entirely lying.
It’s not computing properly, the arousal you’re currently feeling; the odd ache between your thighs, the way your back is arching lightly, your thighs squeezing around Ben’s, and Dean is disgusted, completely caught off guard by the interaction, and the turn it’s taking.
“What are you doing to her?” Dean asks, his head tilting to the side, and his sharp eyes are looking at you. “Stop whatever the hell you’re doing!”
“Calm down, kid,” Ben shakes his head, licking his lips. “Not doin’ a thing, she’s just a whore,” he hisses, and you don’t even defend yourself–it’s overwhelming, the sudden lust clouding your head, and your eyes are growing heavy.
“You’re clearly doing something to her!” Dean says, standing on his feet, and Ben lifts his hand, shaking his head.
“Wasn’t this the deal? I fuck her guts, and you watch?” he drawls, raising his eyebrows, his large hand gliding down your waist and to your thigh. “Can even teach you a few things; you probably need it, don’t you?”
“I do not need some son of a bitch to teach me how to fuck women–I do it plenty, and the last thing I need is to watch her get fucked,” he groans out, his hand rubbing over his jaw. “We will leave you alone, never come back–just give her back,” he commands, like it’s an exchange, and not your body.
Ben stares at Dean, thinking. “No.”
“No?” Dean asks, a stitch forming between his brows.
“No,” he says smoothly, adjusting you on his thigh. “What do you think, doll?” He then adds, turning to glance at you.
“No…” You mumble and shake your head, and Dean’s eyes widen at your response, and he turns his head to look at the motel door and then you.
“What the fuck do you mean no!?” he practically shouts, huffing and sitting down in the seat. “This was not the plan–this is not a part of any god damn plan,” Dean rambles on, scratching his neck.
“A plan?” Ben asks, his hand sliding up your thigh casually, sliding right between them, lightly cupping your core. “What plan did you and… him have, huh?” he murmurs, turning to press his nose against your cheek.
Your head lazily tips back on Ben’s shoulder, and Dean furrows his eyebrows, quickly putting two and two together; his hand is up your skirt, and out of his eyesight. There’s only one thing that could be happening right now, and he’s in disbelief.
“Just watch,” Ben tells Dean, and you feel that large, warm palm lightly curl, and you whimper. “See? This how you touch a lady, none of that bullshit I know you do,” he curses, eyes narrowed.
Dean swallows hard and watches, unaware of what to do right now; you’re clearly enjoying yourself, and Ben is too, and he’s not sure what the tank of a man would do if he tried to leave, or better yet, intervene. He looks away.
“You ever make a girl nut?” Ben asks Dean, and he’s lightly rubbing two fingers right through your underwear, focused on your clit. “Or you jus’ leave her the second you do?” he asks, that cocky grin curled into his lips.
“What?” Dean asks, trying to ignore the soft noises slipping out of your mouth and how utterly good you feel right now.
“Look at her,” Ben says, nodding towards you. “Absolutely fucked right now, and I’m just rubbin’ her through her fuckin’ panties. Women are sluts in that way, and you wouldn’t have a fuckin’ clue about it,” he shoots.
Dean’s eyes drift towards you; the way you’re panting softly, squirming against Ben’s thigh, quietly whining and biting your lip, helpless hands trying to pull down your skirt. He clenches his jaw and looks back to Ben–the whole twin thing is still throwing him the fuck off.
“She’s not even in her right mind,” Dean says, pointing to how out of it you are; practically drooling, your head slumped back, lightly grinding into Ben’s hand now.
“Yeah, cause of me,” he rolls his eyes, snorting.
It is cause of him, and there are two reasons behind it; one of them being the sick and twisted Soldier Boy he is; telling you to take a sip of a drink back at the strip club, and you, trying to be the compliant and obedient thing you are, took it, and didn’t know what he had slipped in it. And the second reason being him; charming and good with his hands. The combination is making a filthy situation, and you’re unfortunately basking in the attention.
“Now,” Ben starts, lightly slapping your core. “You’re gonna watch me pound her from the chair,” he grins, and Dean listens to you whimper, your eyes fluttering at the light sting between your thighs.
The room is quiet, and Dean sits there, watching the way Ben manipulates your body; carefully lifting you, placing you down onto the motel bed and onto your back. The reports were definitely right; super strength, easily moving you around, like you’re the plaything and doll he speaks about.
“Actually,” Ben starts, gazing down at you. “Better look over here, c’mere, son,” he taunts, and Dean shakes his head.
“Nope,” he refuses, shaking his head again, looking up at the ceiling.
Ben rolls his eyes and sighs, gazing down at your body; your dress hiked up your thighs, your hair fanned out against the bed, your eyes heavy and your lips parted. There’s an unfortunate part about this whole thing, and it’s that you don’t… hate it.
You’ve always had that silly crush on Dean, and it made you seethe when he’d bring back bimbos from bars and hunts, and you had to sit and listen, sometimes watch when he’d try to stealthily fuck the girls while you slept on the bed over. It’s his turn, and it’s with his damn twin.
Ben carefully slides his hands up your bare thighs, watching you squirm and writhe against the mattress, and Dean can hear the light fuss from you; the whimpers, the tiny whines.
“Missin’ out,” Ben drawls, his large hands parting your legs instead. “Real fuckin’ beauty right here, and I doubt you even fuck her properly,” he calls out.
Dean rolls his eyes, and Ben is cupping you again, watching your head tip back. He clicks his tongue in disappointment, glancing over his shoulder at the awkward male in the room.
“C’mon, what do you do to the poor thing?” Ben asks, lightly slapping your core again. “Gonna probably fuckin’ cum from just this shit—you neglectin’ her?”
“Nobody is being neglected, idiot,” Dean shoots, gazing at the scene before him. “She’s not even my girlfriend!”
Ben howls at the confession, and he looks back down at you, his free hand sliding down to grab your face, aggressively pinching your cheeks.
“So, you’re a lyin’ bitch?” He asks, eyes narrowing. “Could’ve just waited on the corner, probably would’ve taken you home regardless. Instead you gotta make up some bullshit lies—the fuck is wrong with you?”
You whine and shake your head, and he shuts you up by spitting onto your face. The saliva is warm as it drips down between your eyebrows, gliding down the slope of your nose. He grins at the look on your face, looking back over at Dean.
“What is she then, huh?” Ben asks, still holding your cheeks, listening to you whine. “A sister? Oh, you’re real fucked if this is your sister,” he laughs, snorting.
Ben looks back to you and lets go of your cheeks, his hand lightly slapping your face, and you moan at the feeling, your hips lifting. He smirks at how needy you are, but he’s more concerned with the lack of care you’ve apparently received. You’re the neediest thing he’s seen.
A strong hand slides down your body, and his fingers don’t pull down your underwear; no, they rip it off, a loud sound in the motel room and Dean’s eyes widen. There’s the strength of a supe, and it’s being used to rip off your underwear.
“What the fuck—“ Dean says, standing on his feet, and he walks over, and Ben doesn’t seem to have an issue.
“Real man you are, only comin’ over here when you know you get a look at her pussy,” Ben laughs, a hand sliding down to part your legs more, his thick fingers lightly spreading your folds. “C’mon, take a look.”
Dean’s eyes bulge out of his head at the sight; you flopped on the bed, underwear on the floor, your eyes closed, lips parted, looking like you’re in ecstasy, and now, he’s seeing you bare—completely bare. Not just when he accidentally walked in on you changing, but spread open.
“See? Fuckin’ wetter than hell,” Ben laughs, examining between your thighs, licking his lips. “Look at it… leakin’, never seen anythin’ like this,” he shakes his head, turning to Dean.
Dean hesitantly looks, and he swallows hard. Despite his demeanour and the filthy remarks he makes, he’s gentle; you’ve seen the sex before, watched how soft he was with the women, the tender caresses, the sweetness that overtakes the dirty words that he says when he’s just trying to seduce the women. This is completely out of his ballpark, and he’s not sure how to process it.
“Dean,” you mumble, your eyes finding his, and his lips part the words that leave your mouth. His name, not Ben’s.
“Dumb bitch is callin’ for the guy who isn’t fuckin’ her,” Ben scoffs, and he slaps the side of your face again, and you whimper, biting your lip.
Ben reaches down, and he’s unbuckling his leather belt, the soft noise clinking in the motel, and Dean’s eyebrow furrows when he notices what’s happening. He looks to Dean, ticking his head.
“What? That much of a pussy? Can’t look at another man’s cock without gettin’ shy?” Ben asks, working on his own pants, his eyes looking back to you. “Ain’t gay, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he grins, and Dean is taken aback by the guts on this guy.
Ben’s hands slowly pull down his pants, and he’s resting his knee on the bed, his two hands now finding your thighs, spreading you open more, getting a better angle while he nudges his between your legs. He groans the second he runs his cock through your folds, and he looks at Dean out of the corner of his eye.
“Jesus Christ, she’s fuckin’ wet,” Ben hisses, his head tipping back a little, and Dean can feel his body growing warm the longer he stares at you. “She a virgin?”
Dean doesn’t respond; he merely watches, and Ben isn’t bothering with waiting for an answer. He pushes in and watches your eyes immediately squeeze shut, your back arching off the bed, and he laughs, shaking his head.
“Fuckin’ Hell,” Ben groans, burying himself as deep as he can go, breathing out. “Clenchin’ around me like a god damn dream, and you never fuckin’ hit this? God,” he laughs in disbelief, speaking to Dean, who is in disbelief.
Ben stares down at you, watching your body rock with each thrust; your eyes fluttering and your mouth agape, drool trickling down the side of it, spit finding its way out of your lips. He curses, holding your hips as he ruts into you, listening to the mewls.
“Put your fingers in her mouth,” Ben commands Dean, nodding towards you. “Shut her up, don’t gotta be hearin’ that shit the whole time,” he mutters.
Dean hesitates, but he does it, as if he’s being held at gumpoint. He shifts closer to the edge of the bed, trying to ignore the sound of skin on skin, the slapping of Ben’s hips snapping against yours, and the way your body moves with each thrust, the way you’re so blissed out.
Dean slides his two fingers past your lips, and your eyes roll back the second you realize that it’s his, and not Ben’s. You can feel the silver ring by your lips, the rough digits on your tongue, the way he’s lightly gagging you, and his eyes darken the minute he realizes how good this actually feels.
“See? Just an obedient whore,” Ben hums, confusing the relentless movement of his hips, a rough movement. “Can’t believe you had this thing walkin’ around, didn’t even try to do anythin’.”
Dean grits his teeth and deepens his fingers down your throat, listening to the soft of you gagging, the soft choking on his fingers. His lips twitch, and he can feel himself hardening in his jeans, and he glances down, ashamed of himself.
It’s a dream for you; eyes opening to see the same faces looming over you; those familiar green eyes, soft lips parted, and you close your eyes, basking in the feeling instead of resisting it. Whatever drug he has in you has you on cloud nine, and all you can do is suck on Dean’s fingers and take Ben’s cock
“Press on her stomach,” Ben then nods to Dean, and Dean glances down at the way your shirt rides up, that sliver of skin showing. “They love that shit—force her to feel my cock,” he continues, his one hand holding beneath your knee, the other one lightly slapping your other thigh.
Dean’s getting off on it now, too, and he slowly pulls his fingers out of your mouth, pressing his palm to your lower stomach, applying the pressure that Ben asks, and he nods.
“Push hard,” Ben commands, and Dean is taking orders like it’s his job. “Make her piss herself,” he mumbles, and Dean’s eyes widen, hesitantly looking down at you.
You squirm around, moaning now that your mouth is free; the sounds slip out, and Dean can feel himself getting harder at how drawn out there, how much you’re enjoying this. His eyes glance to you, and he lightly presses harder, awkwardly leaning over. Ben doesn’t seem to care.
“Atta girl,” Ben mumbles, his head tipping back when he feels you clenching harder, focusing on taking him, and holding in your piss now. “Keep pressin’, kid,” he tells Dean, and his eyebrows furrow at the awkward submissive position he’s put in.
Dean rubs the heel of his palm lightly against your lower abdomen, pushing down harder, and he can oddly feel himself enjoying this too; the way you wince and whine, how hard you’re trying to keep yourself composed, all while being focused on too many things at once.
“Gonna piss on my cock, doll?” Ben taunts, cocking his head to the side. “How’s this poor son of a bitch ever gonna see you the same again, huh? Hold it for him, not for me,” he shakes his head, and your head tips back instead, shaking it.
Dean won’t see you the same again, especially because you are pissing yourself, softly crying as you feel it streaming down, onto the bed and right in the midst of it all. Ben chuckles and doesn’t even bother stopping, just landing a cold slap against your face. Dean’s eyes widen.
“Dumb bitch,” Ben grunts, his hand lightly swatting away Dean’s, and he pushes his fist down instead, and you groan, eyes squeezing shut. “Really embarrassin’ yourself, yeah? Pissin’ all over yourself, and now you gotta sit in the car with him afterwards.”
Dean breathes heavier, his hand sliding down to press against the front of his jeans, subtly adjusting himself. And Ben finishes, a loud groan in the motel room, and he watches the way your body tenses up, your toes curling, fingers grasping at the bed sheets, and he’s filling you up, not even bothering to pull out.
“Never pull out,” Ben tells Dean like it’s casual advice. “Make ‘em take your seed, wastin’ it is for boys, not men, bet you use a condom,” he teases, still groaning and hunched over your body, holding your hips now, pressing his fingers into you.
Dean is silent and just watching, feeling him awkwardly leak into his boxers at the sight of you; your body all limp and flush, panting heavily, your eyes closed, absolutely drunk and dumbed out. Ben isn’t thrusting anymore, just keeping himself pressed between your thighs, keeping himself stuffed in there.
“She’s feelin’ it all right now,” Ben groans out, staring down at your blissed-out face. “Girls ever tell you that? That you make ‘em feel full, or do they just ask if you’ve finished yet?” he presses, and Dean is wondering why Ben is so set on humiliating him, too.
“She looks…” Dean mumbles, hovering over you, his hand lightly finding your forehead.
“Fuckin’ hot,” Ben cuts in and nods, licking his lips again. “Feels fuckin’ hot too, tightest pussy I’ve felt in a while–you sure she’s not a virgin?” he asks, and Dean shakes his head.
You whine quietly as the boys bicker over top of you, discussing whether or not your virginity was just taken in front of Dean by his god damn twin. You whine and tip your head back again, your chest puffing out.
“Poor thing, she's never been fucked by a real man,” Ben clicks his tongue, and Dean registers the word: supe. “Really irresponsible of you, you know that? Jus’ filled her guts with more cum than you’ll ever produce in your life,” he laughs, referencing the odd amount of semen this man can produce–it’s for reproduction to carry on these godly genes, and it’s inside of you, stretching and filling you out.
Dean is slightly realizing the gravity of the situation; you, being fucked by the thing they were hunting. If it were a vampire, or any other god damn creature, he would’ve shot and killed the thing by now, and burned its bones, but Ben’s human-like similarities, and… well, the charm, made him forget that you were being plowed by some superhuman, with superhuman abilities.
Neither are sure how you’ll explain this to Sam, not at all. And Dean gulps when Ben looks at him, gesturing to your limp body.
“Now show me what I taught you,” Ben grins. “Or I’ll snap your fuckin’ neck.”
Summary: You’re given the job of babysitting Soldier Boy, keeping him out of public view and only in your sight. Being in a desolate cabin is boring though, and the two of you pick up a game that isn’t as much fun for you as it is for him.
♡ warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, rough sex, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, slapping, punching-ish, bruising, spit, crying, lots of dirty talk, degrading (bitch, whore, slut), he's soldier boy idk what you expect, trigger warning, clear consent, reader insert, no mentions of y/n.
wc: 3.6k | i'm sorry in advance for what you're going to read... but the soldier boy girlies were yelling at me to do it and i gladly want to! if u want more older bf fan fics like this (mean and SCARY) lmk!!
You’re not exactly sure when the game of cat and mouse started, but it definitely did.
Hiding in the middle of nowhere, a cabin down a dark trail accessible only to lost hikers gave you and Soldier Boy free rein in the forest: a vast, dark expanse of thick tree trunks, tall grass, and rocks. It was pure seclusion from society.
The job was handed to you: looking after Soldier Boy, his babysitter. It was vague, the instructions you were given: keep him out of public, and do not let him out of your fucking sight. Those were the rules applied to him, and you were the one who upheld them.
It all started the first time you let him outside. He had been suspiciously nice that morning; not making sly comments about your ass, or questioning why he hadn’t fucked you yet despite the small cabin the two of you were forced to live in.
You were idly walking ahead of him, minding your business, kicking rocks and picking up stray flowers. He watched you from behind, his mind conjuring thoughts you’d probably slap him for: how quickly you’d have to run to escape, or the way you’d look against a pine tree, that stupid dress you always wore, hiked up.
You played into it accidentally, slightly running ahead when you spotted a patch of uneven mushrooms and curiously analyzing the fungi. Now he was a few feet back behind you, and it gave you the silliest idea to sprint ahead. And so you did.
He immediately ran right after you through the woods, listening to your loud laughs–you didn’t know he was serious, and he was that fucking eager to catch up to you. You were quick on your feet, easily hopping over the scattered debris, and it was the most adrenaline he had felt in a long time. Just the thought of chasing you down like you were a prize had him moving quicker than you, firm hands catching your waist and pulling you down onto the dirt.
It was the most adrenaline you'd ever felt, too; his hands bunching your dress, devouring you right there against the forest floor, a dark sky full of stars above you, both of you tapping into some primal sense you'd suppressed until that very moment.
Since then, it had almost become a ritual. You’d slip out of the cabin after he’d randomly announce you had a minute head start, sometimes lucky enough to receive a minute and a half. You had zero time to change, sometimes even wandering out in bare feet when he was feeling like an asshole, which was most of the time, forcing you to run through the forest in nothing but a nightgown and bare feet. And that was the case for tonight.
“Thirty… thirty seconds?” you ask in surprise, gazing at Ben, who sits on the couch, lazily smoking a joint, the words completely out of the blue.
You’re staring at him, blinking; he’s completely unbothered, rubbing the scruff he hasn’t shaved in a while.
“Said thirty seconds, didn’t I, doll?” he drawls casually, a plume of smoke slipping by his lips. “Twenty-two... Twenty-one…” he begins to taunt, and your eyes widen. He was already counting.
You curse quietly to yourself, trying to ignore just how truly excited you are to venture out into the forest this late at night, knowing a predator would be on your heels in just twenty seconds if you didn’t run quickly enough.
The night air is cold and sharp against your warm skin, and your cotton nightgown does little to shield you from it. Goosebumps prick your thighs and arms, and you’re already starting a light jog, bare feet running along the hard ground, soon feeling sticks and sharp gravel beneath them as you stray further and further from the cabin.
The night sky is cloudy tonight, the stars barely hanging above, leaving the forest just a bit darker than usual. You pant softly when you begin to pick up the speed, glancing over your shoulder, the porch light flicking off–that was a signal; Ben was leaving the cabin now, and you were just about twenty feet away.
You move more quickly, limbs swift, and weave through the branches, twigs catching on your cotton nightgown. You groan with each soft rip, realizing you've accidentally wandered into a dense thicket of branches and thorns.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he taunts aloud, loud enough for you to hear. “Don’t be a dumb bitch like last time, pickin’ the worst fuckin’ spots known to man,” he calls out, and you swallow hard.
You grimace, eyes narrowed, trying to navigate your way through the unfortunate area you sound yourself. Your feet are muddy, dense branches pressing into the bottom of your feet, and you look over your shoulder, the cabin completely out of sight.
Ben is wandering around slowly, his sharp eyes scanning the area for any sign of you; he can smell you, that sweet scent he smells every single day, and it smells even better when it’s mixed with the obvious fear of scent, too.
There was fear wrapped into the entirety of it–a twisted sense of it, mingling with the excitement. You knew he was a powerful man, hands big enough to snap you in half, and you’ve seen the bruises he leaves you with, how relentless a single man can be, pounding into you like it’s all he can do–it is; he’s been stuck out here for god knows how long, and this is the only piece of entertainment he gets. And it’s from you.
“Not even makin’ this fun for me anymore,” he mumbles, and you can hear his voice getting louder, and you’re on your hands and knees. “Lazy whore, just wantin’ me to fuck her without playing the actual part of the game–not how you play it,” he drawls out, and you squeeze your eyes shut.
You move on your hands and knees, feeling the twigs grasping at your nightgown, slicing the white fabric, and you whimper each time a sharp rock grounds itself into your hands and knees. You keep crawling, staying lower to the forest floor, panting, adrenaline coursing through you, actual fear filling your chest. He’s threatened to kill you more times than you want to remember.
“Can smell you, you know,” he taunts again, and you hold your breath as you hear twigs crunch beneath his feet. “Fear, and how wet your fuckin’ panties are right now, all excited, ain’t ya?” he practically laughs, and you grimace in disgust, his words sharp.
You swallow hard and keep crawling on your hands and knees, shuffling, and you can hear his footsteps growing louder. You breathe heavier, ducking your head, much too afraid to look behind you and find that man looming over you–he’s so tall, and muscle, and taut skin against him, and you bite your lip.
“What should I do with that little body of yours, once I find you?” Ben calls out, and you freeze. “Fuckin’ your mouth this time sound fun? Maybe usin’ every hole of yours,” he clicks his tongue, and freezes too, scoping out his surroundings.
You cover your mouth and hold your breath, hearing his steps suddenly quicken as he's somehow caught your scent like a rabid dog, and he walks right by you. Your eyes widen when you see him slightly; just his large feet, the soft grunts from him, and you glance up, seeing his face; his eyes are narrowed, nostrils flared, but he’s mostly hidden. It’s too dark.
“Can’t wait to see that look on your face.” he pauses again, inhaling, trying to smell you. “All scared n’ helpless lookin’ like a deer caught in headlights–makes me wanna fuck your brains out, hope you know that,” he mocks, and you shake your head.
You inch backwards once you know he’s slightly ahead of you, somehow missing your form hidden under a few branches and twigs. You gulp, feeling a thorn catching on your dress again, and it rips. You wince, glance over, and Ben is gone; you freeze again.
Two large hands reach down and grab you by the hips, and you let out a loud squeal; Ben knocks you off balance. The minute you’re on your stomach, he doesn’t hesitate to reach down and grab your ankles instead, shamelessly dragging you by them, and you’re already whining, trying to grasp at the dirt and twigs.
“Hid in the worst fuckin’ spot, again,” he spits, pulling you out of the little spot. “Just wantin’ me to find ya’, huh? Could just ask me to fuck you, instead of bein’ a prude all god damn day,” he grumbles out, letting go of your ankles.
He doesn’t let you go, though. Instead, he kneels into the dirt, his knee pressing into your lower back, and he presses his hand on the back of your head, forcing your face into the cold dirt. You mumble something into the ground, your legs squirming, and he looks at the way you shift and squirm, and he shakes his head.
“Watchin’ this is the best part sometimes,” Ben drawls, watching your hands try to push off the ground, but he purposely digs his knee into your back. “Just fuckin’ hopeless, squirmin’ around like an animal caught in a trap.”
You whine and shake your head, and he purposely pushes your head down again, this time knocking it forward, and it sends stars behind your eyes at the roughness of it. He watches the squirming lessen in real time, and he licks his lips, easing his knee off your lower back.
He twists his hand into your hair, pulling your face out of the dirt, and he glances at you; your cheeks covered in tears, and dirt smeared across your face, a painful throbbing at the corner of your head. He laughs, clicking his tongue in admiration.
“Lookin’ your best, too,” Ben quips, his eyes raking over your face. “Cryin’ like you’re not the slut who gets excited for this shit; it’s pathetic, actin’ like you’re not soaked right now.”
You whimper and look away from Ben, and he moves his knee completely off your back. He’s all strong and rough, and his hand slides down, lifting right beneath your stomach, scooping you off the ground and tossing you over his shoulder. This strength comes with his supe abilities, and you learned it through this.
You squirm and kick your legs, and he has a wolfish grin as he walks through the forest, hearing the soft whines and groans as you try to free yourself from his grip.
“Keep kickin’, doll, I want you to,” he mocks your failed attempts and keeps moving through the woods, taking you further and further away from the cabin.
You’re not speaking, just making those sounds like a wounded animal; all whines and soft whimpers, and he’s the wolf about to feast on whatever is left. You lightly hit his back, and he lands a harsh slap on your ass.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He curses out, finding a slightly open patch, and your body is quick to hit the ground. He merely tosses you onto the ground, not bothering to lower you.
You hit the dirt with a thud, wide eyes looking up at him, and you’re panting, shuffling back until your back hits the base of a tree trunk. He smirks, tilting his head to the side.
“Stop puttin’ on this show,” he shakes his head, inching closer to you. “Crawlin’ away, actin’ like a frightened little girl,” he narrows his eyes, reaching down and grabbing you by the ankles again.
You almost scream this time—it gets caught in the back of your throat, and he drags you towards him, forcing your thighs to part and your nightgown to hitch you to your hips. He gazes down, nudging his way between your legs, and he sees the glistening slick against your underwear. The moon is coming out, and it hits it perfectly.
“Would a frightened lil’ thing be drippin’ like this?” Ben asks, glancing up at you, and he harshly slaps your core. “No, she wouldn’t—lyin’ bitch,” he mumbles, and then he spits, soothing the sting with his own saliva.
You wail and tip your head back, and whine even louder when his strong hand rips the underwear right off you. Another reminder of his supe strength, the cotton breaking and ripping right off your body, and he’s staring down at your bare lower half.
“Just fuckin’ soaked,” he groans again, inhaling the sweet scent he could smell from miles away. “And you’re cryin’ like I’m doin’ somethin’ wrong, and your body ain’t a hole for me to rip apart.”
You whimper, and he lands another slap against your core. It stings more this time, a faint burning, and you wince, your toes curling into the dirt, and he grins. He stares into your eyes, gathering saliva in his mouth, and then he spits right down again, and you moan the minute it hits you.
Ben’s fingers slide into you with ease, zero hesitation in the movement, and you gasp out, your back arching off the cold ground. His other hand holds your thigh, forcing you open.
“Clenchin’ around me already,” he curses out, letting two fingers curl and hook, finding that soft spot immediately, all spongy and warm. “This why you act like such a stupid slut? Hidin’ in the open, makin’ it easier for me to find you?” He ticks his head.
You’re already in another world, feeling a third finger slide in and you squeeze, and he scoffs at the feeling around the digits—he finds it amusing how much you want him, yet how you flailed around and whined, acting like every instinct wasn’t for him.
“Three fingers deep, and she’s wantin’ more,” Ben shakes his head, wetting his lips. “Think she can take five, doll? My whole fist in her?” He asks, tilting his head to the side, and you’re shaking your head, whimpering.
His fourth finger slides in, but his thumb refuses. Instead, it finds your clit that still has his saliva glistening against it, and he rubs it into you, and you’re moaning louder. He watches, your face comforting, eyes rolling back, back arching.
“Can’t believe you were runnin’ from me,” he mumbles and shakes his head, this time landing spit on your face,e and you wince. “Actin’ like you didn’t want this, and now you’re squeezin’ around my fingers, takin’ me in.”
You can feel his spit dripping down your face and you whine, shaking your head, feeling it slide onto your lips. You lap it up and Ben watches, narrowed eyes.
“Yeah… whinin’ about my spit, too,” he stares at you. “Meanwhile, got my whole fuckin’ hand inside of you.”
Ben pulls his fingers out of you, and you instantly gasp when you don’t feel it anymore, that full pressure. He lands another slap against your core, whining louder now that it’s sensitive and tender, all raw. He smirks at the look on your face, and you shift against the ground.
He lifts his hand and slides his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself, and he’s doing it on purpose, making sure you’re gagging—he’s got them halfway down your throat, and you’re choking, tasting yourself. You close your eyes and claw at the ground.
“Taste that, sweetheart?” He taunts, pulling his fingers out to hear you choke when they finally slide out. “How fuckin’ wet you are, yet you keep kickin’ around like a scared bitch.”
You look up at Ben when he briefly pauses, and he’s carefully unbuckling his pants, slowly moving onto his zipper and pulling them down with zero hesitation.
“You miss this, doll? Miss this fuckin’ you?” He coos, taunting even more. “My fingers not enough for you? My knee not enough for how greedy you are?”
You shake your head, biting your lip, glancing down when he takes himself out of his pants; long, hard, and you can tell he’s just throbbing. You remember the first time you saw him like this, and he couldn’t stop laughing and mocking you; your eyes blown out in shock, and you kept asking if he was sure if it would fit. He didn’t reassure you.
“Lookin’ like the first time you saw my cock,” Ben drawls, his hand wrapped around the base. “Looked like you saw a fuckin’ ghost, dumbest thing I’ve seen, until you told me… a virgin,” he grins, and you look away, already feel shameful about him taking your virginity.
“Let me defile you like a bitch I’d pick off the street,” he says, leaning a bit closer to you, nudging between your thoughts. “First time meant to be slow, sweetheart… a special thing between two people n’ you let me rip you open, like you’re nothin’, a whore. And you are.”
Ben uses the soft spot for leverage, and he thrusts into you, always loving that look on your face; the wide eyes and the parted lips, the way you slowly slip into a headspace of nothingness. Just need and want, a twisted desperation for a man who is just as desperate, and doesn’t hide it. Not at all.
“Yeah… yeah, missed stuffin’ this pretty hole,” he growls, two hands finding your hips, the grip absolutely bruising, and he’s pressing over old ones. “Grips around me… like she was meant for me. Think she was meant for me, baby?”
Your head is lolled back, and your eyes are rolled back into your head as Ben trusts and thrusts, hard, quick motions that are unforgiving and relentless. Your nightgown is all hiked up, and his hand drifts down, holding beneath where your knee bends, giving him an angle that has noises you’ve never heard before leaving your mouth.
“Whatcha’ think, doll?” Ben started, groaning as his own head tips back and he licks his lip. “Should I let you cum tonight? Or should… I make you hold it, all in.”
You whine when he threatens not to let you finish, something he’s done before, and it was the most agonizing thing ever, especially when he’s so big. So, so big, and he does it all so well.
Ben’s hand slides up your thighs a little more, and you immediately whimper the second he pushes on your lower abdomen, letting his fist drive into it.
“Gonna piss you’re so scared, yeah?” He asks, pushing hard onto your stomach, and you whimper, squirming. “Don’t be a dirty girl… nobody likes a messy bitch, you know this.”
It’s hard to think when there’s pressure everywhere; his hand on your stomach, the pressure from it, how hard he’s thrusting, the trees creaking and groaning, the smell of dirt and the water from the small creek trickling by. You’re in another world, and Ben is taking whatever it is out on you.
“You’ll be pissin’ on me, before cummin’, get that through your head,” he hisses, briefly lifting his hand to slap the side of your cheek. “Know how thick that skull is.”
You whine at the stinging, and there it comes, the soothing of his spit against your face, and you grimace, and he loves that look; the fake disgust, like you aren’t waiting for this to be done so that you can do the whole thing again tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day.
“You’re gonna let me stuff you,” Ben says, leaving you no room to protest. “Gonna make you leak everywhere, all down these thighs,” he says, slapping the side of your thigh.
He never tells you when he’s going to finish, never gives you a heads up, but you know it—he’s groaning and grunting and growling, every animalistic urge surging through Ben’s body. And then it comes, that feeling in your stomach.
You’re not sure what it is, but he cums, and cums, and cums, a never-ending stream spilling inside of you, and he basks in it. The way you’re helplessly whining and shaking your head, asking how he has so much inside of him—he’s a fucking supe, and he’ll say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the fucking world.
Why would he not have a supply that could stuff you until you’re begging for him to stop?
Ben pauses, burying deep inside of you, his face nestled in the crook of your neck, his beard brushing and poking at your skin, all rough and hard. He lightly thrusts, letting his cum push deeper and deeper, forcing it in to fill every crevice. He knows every crevice, too. His fingertips have touched and curled against every single one.
“This fuckin’ body of yours,” he growls into your neck, his hips touching yours, his hand pressing right onto your lower stomach again. “Takes all of me, all my seed… think you were built for this, not even meant to cum, just a hole,” he breathes, licking up your neck.
You’re absolutely blissed out, your cheek still stinging, your mouth agape. He punches your stomach instead of pressing, emphasizing just how full he’s really made you.
“If you weren’t full of my cock right now…” Ben drawls, licking at your earlobe, his tongue sliding over it. “Would be spillin’ all over… ain’t that the cutest thing? Punchin’ your stomach, and forcin’ you to leak out.”
You don’t say anything; you just pant, and he pulls back, his rough hands brushing your hair from your face.
“A minute, this time.” he nods, licking his lips, his chest heaving. “Start runnin’.”
How he'd use his mouth on you// Chris (Lipstopher) Bang
ㅤꨄ︎ explicit content. Minors dni please thank you.
ㅤꨄ︎ English isn't my first language so l apologize for any mistakes or typos <3
ㅤꨄ︎ warning: sexual content, mostly and basically oral (F receiving)
- in all the right ways. and I can just say only that and post it as it is.
- no but really. just like he does with his fingers (see previous post), he STUDIES you and what you love. And he ain’t playing when it comes to loving you right. In fact, if you know him more than 5 minutes, you’d know he doesn’t do anything if he isn’t passionate about it. Thats why he’s PERFECT (I am not biased, I promise).
-Starting from sweet words, to sweet kisses to sweet orgasms he’d rip from you over and over again with that mouth.
- we all have seen how precise his words are when he speaks about things/people he loves. That’s gonna make you fall in love every time he only parts his lips to say anything.
- could melt you with his sweet praises like an ice cream on a hot summer day in Australia.
- even unintentional ones like, “Need help with that, little one?”
- or when you come home from work/school/whatever business, and you need comfort, babe he’s gonna sweet talk you so softly you’ll be throwing chairs in the air and pulling out every single hair from your head.
- uses nicknames like: love, little one (these two confirmed), babygirl (also confirmed), baby, sweets, sweet thing, little thing, pretty thing, thing thing thing… and honestly? You’re already on your knees giving him a tutorial on how to tie your hair up. From his words only.
- of course his other side (the evil tease that does the complete opposite of making you wanna keep him in your arms and rather in some other parts of your body ;)) will call you names like “dirty/filthy/greedy little thing, princess…)
- I don’t see him using degrading names unless you tell him you have this kink (“I’ll fulfill all your fantasies” was a promise so he gonna keep it)
- but yeah, I see him as a very soft Dom, so most of the time he just praises you on how good you’re being for him, how good you’re taking him, how pretty you look when you come for him, etc…
- (Really depends on the situation and the mood between you too cuz if you start misbehaving and testing him, he ain’t gonna keep fucking around about it. He either lets you be and gives you the silent treatment, or teaching you a lesson, and that’s where degradation MIGHT take place. But only very rarely.)
- anyways, mouth. Right.
- have you seen his lips? I bet you did. Have you seen anything else besides them? I doubt it. Don’t ask the color of anything I’m busy staring at the most beautiful pair of lips ever.
- just as I said about the hands, the same goes here with his his pink, plump, slightly chapped (you’re gonna take care of it anyways), kissable lips.
- FOREHEAD KISSES. Just take your time and imagine him randomly coming up to you and places a gentle, comforting kiss on your forehead, or the top of your head if you’re busy and he doesn’t wanna interrupt you but has to have some sort of connection, even if it’s just for a second.
- and of course you wouldn’t be able to resist him and just keep doing your business after he “innocently” leaves a kiss on your forehead. But that’s just up to you what to do next.
- kisses your lips with such delicacy that you never get enough of it.
- would take him two seconds and one brush of his lips against your own to turn it into a hot makeout session that lasts as long as you two can last without breathing.
- DEFINITELY MOANS INTO YOUR MOUTH. UH.
- but if he’s all soft and cuddly? It’s over for you. Cause no matter how hot the kisses get when you two are needy, nothing compares to those chaste, gentle, mfing addictive-sweet-soft kisses.
- first he’d be a blushing mess cause the tip of his nose brushing against yours, and then he’s probably taking your hands and intertwining your fingers together before he lays you down on the bed or like gently pushes you against something. Like, a wall, a kitchen counter, a couch…
- and it’s all so pure and makes you feel so so so in loveeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Fuck. (Him).
- so when his lips touch your own, your breath hitches cause it’s an ethereal feeling. He literally takes your breath away, and then cups your face with one hand as the other still intertwined with yours…
- or he just holds your neck and caresses your jaw with his thumb ever so slightly as if he’s trying to not hurt you with his touch.
- but yeah anyways, makes you lose your mind over the sweetest kisses ever.
- A sucker for taking your bottom lip between his teeth and dragging it oh so gently, so careful with it.
- ugh, NECK KISSES too. Such a weakness. Goes for both of you cause well, idk if there’s anyone out there who doesn’t like neck kisses but HIS? Are addictive. Nothing less than that. Will practically have you begging for him to press his majestic lips to your neck every. Time. You. Look. At. Them. No cuz, they’re so inviting wtf.
- loves tugging at your hair so he can pull your head back just slightly enough to expose your delicious neck (he’s a wolf and that’s his favorite meal ok?)
- There’s not one spot he’d leave unkissed.
- the amount of pressure he puts on your neck depends on the mood. And that’s basically his way of telling you either, “I’m horny” or “I’m too tired but never for this”.
- and if he’s horny, he’d start by using some teeth as well, nibbling and tugging at your flesh just slightly, not enough to hurt you, but enough to signal you that he WANTS you now. His tongue swipes over the area he bites on to make sure he’s not hurting you. But generally, when he’s needy, his kisses are more open mouthed, wet and full of sounds.
- he grunts and groans and moans and saying your name and how delicious and pretty you are whenever he leaves a trail of wet, yet loving kisses.
- and they ARE loving, do not think he’s only beasty when he needs you. He makes sure you feel his love through his actions since he hates getting flustered in front of you.
- he’s just a little hungry wolf who loves your neck, and collar bones.
- which brings us to this…
- hickeys.
- you cannot convince me he doesn’t LOVEEE having you all covered up in red. Again, not beasty, just enough and consensual.
- loves loves loves when you moan his name as he makes another hickey on your neck. You can tell just how much he’s willing to sell his soul just to have you all covered up in his art by his grin.
- would be so proud of himself at the end, if there is an end to this cause you always let him mark you all over again and he’d gladly skip his genshin hours just to love you right with his mouth.
- also hickeys on your breasts. Makes him hard so much faster when you let him do that, while he’s massaging the other one and then does the same in the same spot. (He can’t stand asymmetrical/uneven things such as marks only on one of your breasts and not ruin the other as well :))
- he’s also addicted to the feeling of your fingers in his hair, tugging and pulling whenever he does his business with different body parts of yours <3
- going lower from your breasts, his lips NEVER leave your skin. Like, that man is addicted and he’s not letting go.
- so just imagine what happens when you’re finally pregnant with his baby, how softly he’d kiss all over your rounded belly. Gosh. Heavy sigh. I need that.
- no matter your size, your skin condition, your whatever insecurities you have with your body, he’s here to make you feel perfect. And he’s gonna work his mouth until you admit it yourself.
- whispers praises about how pretty and perfect your skin feels under his lips, and would basically kiss all your insecurities away.
- and he might be one to kiss your ankles when he’s folding you in half and takes you like he claims you over and over again, but that’s controversial. Hehe.
- anyways, moving lower to the best part.
- absolutely and definitely obsessed with inner thighs. Look at him.
- he’d be drunk on the soft flesh of your inner thighs like he’d never be on soju or any other motivation drink.
- HES A SUCKER FOR HICKEYS THERE TOO.
- like you can tug at his hair all you want but you’re already a writhing mess once he’s got his teeth around small parts of your flesh and he sucks on it like he’d go mad if he doesn’t mark you even more.
- “so pretty and mine, yeah?”
- “all mine to mark, all mine to love.”
- fuck off cause if he says he’s not possessive he’s LYING.
- slowly making his way all the way up to your heat, teasingly as always.
- “can i?” Is what he’s gonna ask before fucking your brains out with his mouth.
- gets rid of your panties in the speed of light cause the man is HUNGRY. He wants his meal and you can’t let him skip any meals right? Gotta take care of him.
- now listen to me when I say he does the next thing like his life depends on it. Like his own pleasure and pride depend on it. And it does, in some way.
- loves how you squirm and get all shy but he keeps your thighs open before he dives in.
- starting off with little licks around your already extremely sensitive clit. You’re tugging at his hair or smtg, idk, going insane probably cause baby, he’s a pro.
- (cmon, he didn’t record himself gulping that bloody protein drink in one shot + the sound for innocent purposes. Nobody gives a fuck about the PROTEIN DRINK CHRIS. And he knows it damn well.)
- ok! So, we have him teasing you, and when that part is over, you see stars. The moon, mars, Jupiter, they’re all in front of your eyes that are rolling back wonderfully now that you pull even harder at his hair (careful with that tho)
- safe to say it turns him on even more when you do that, as long as you don’t leave him bald after this round…
- he moans against your folds. His tongue hot and wet and dragging up your sticky folds like it’s his mission and someone told him he can’t do it right. So he gives his all.
- “that’s right, baby. Feels good, yeah?”
- HIS VOICE IS MUFFLED CAUSE HES BUSY EATING.
- slurping and collecting all that wetness you make for him, only for him. He’s drinks you like that protein drink hahahaha no. Even better than that.
- EYE CONTACT all the way. Doesn’t break it even for a second. Remember? He needs to study you, and even after a while together when you know each other well, he’d still keep staring into your soul while taking it out of you.
- stops when you look away, same thing when he fingers you. Cause, eh, just a little sucker for that connection when he’s breaking you. Thats just his way to say he loves you, through the eyes.
- he savors every inch of you and flicks his tongue in all the right places that make your tones get even higher (what would you expect from a musician after all?)
- in moments like this, you thank the heavens for making him a people’s pleaser. And he’s not gonna do anything other than that. He’s here to please every cell of your body and release very oxytocin molecule in your brain until your thighs are closing around his head and you beg him to stop :)
- that’s just his pride. His smile afterwards says it all.
- his smile, and the way he’s catching his breath cause he just ate you out like you’re his favorite breakfast, lunch, dinner and dessert altogether.
- would let your legs shake and watch him lick his lips after finishing his delicious 3 star Michelin meal
- “fuck, baby… I’d do that all day if you let me.”
- “fuck, you did so well for me, my sweet girl.”
- “look at you dripping and shaking for me. you came so hard, didn’t you?” While caressing your face in a comforting way. “Yeah, you did. Such a good fucking girl. Fuck… all mine.”
- anyways, as I’ve said in the beginning. He uses his mouth only in the right ways. Whether it’s to wreck you with his words, his pretty accent, or with his tongue, teeth and lips. Either way, he manages to wreck you.
Bang Chan x F! Reader
Synopsis: Sometimes breakups really are for the best.
Warnings: SMUT, p in v (be smart!), praise, sweet, talks of past relationship.
A/N: Holy crap I missed you guys and writing. I don't know how consistent I'll be, but here's this little, slightly self indulgent, piece. 🩷
Breakups. Sometimes it’s one person’s fault. Sometimes it’s both…
And sometimes it’s neither one.
The sheet beneath you is damp with tears, your chest aches, your mind is exhausted, your emotions are drained and utterly spent. It wasn’t a single, ‘I’m done,’ type of thing. It was days. Trying to talk it out, trying to make it work despite knowing it couldn’t.
Now you’re laying in a dark room, under the covers completely broken. You wonder if you could’ve been something else for him. But you know it would’ve been at the expense of your happiness. That you wouldn’t have been you if you tried to be what he needed. And he didn’t want you to be anything but yourself, just like you didn’t want him to be anyone but himself.
It simply was no one’s fault.
A stream of light barely shines into the room.
Chan. Your roommate. Your best friend.
Your tears are silent but violent, your body is shaking slightly. You feel the mattress dip with his weight and the covers raise and his body heat floods your back. His arm snakes around your waist as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.
“It’s gonna be okay…” he trails off, trying to offer some sort of comfort. But it only makes you cry harder.
“I thought I had forever with him,” you sob out quietly, “I considered changing for him.”
Chan’s arm only tightens around you, pulling you in closer.
“You don’t have to change for the right person,” he reminds you gently.
“What if I can’t find the right person?” That’s it. That’s part of the fear. You thought you had everything figured out because it was supposed to be him. Now you’re mourning what you thought you had. Now you’re afraid you won’t find better.
“Y/n, the right person is out there. I promise.” he whispers in your ear. You turn to face him and bury your face in his neck, breathing in the scent of clean soap and light cologne.
“It’s going to be okay, I promise,” he whispers into your hair before planting a soft kiss on your temple.
“I just wanted it to be him so bad,” your voice comes out weak and whimpery.
“I know sweetheart,” he says sympathetically.
“Does it ever get better?” A sharp sniffle leaves you.
“Yeah… eventually,” he says, his own heart breaking.
-
Over the few days slowly your heart starts to heal, to a point where crying is little to nonexistent. Chan has been there for all of it. Letting your tears soak his shirt when needed, with your favorite foods and movies. He’s done all the cooking, letting you rot on the couch when needed.
Days turn to weeks. Weeks turn into months and life starts to finally feel normal again.
One afternoon Chan comes home.
“Get dressed. We’re going out.”
“What, but I’m in my sweats and eating popco-”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll take you somewhere fancy. My treat.” For a moment you consider fighting him. But you decide it’s a waste of time.
Your feet pad down the hall to the bedroom and you pull out your favorite dress from your closet. You do your makeup and hair, fixing yourself up before slipping on your garments and walking out in a pair of heels.
Chan changes his clothes, a nice pair of pants and button down shirt.
He’s waiting on you when you walk into the kitchen and his eyes widen slightly.
“Wow… you clean up well..” his voice is slightly higher, and he clears his throat before giving you a soft smile. A soft blush blooms on your cheeks as you smile bashfully and grab your purse.
-
The restaurant is upscale, classy and definitely took some planning.
“Yeah, reservation for 2,” Chan says as you look around at the grand establishment.
You walk through the place, sitting down at a table cloth clad table, a booth, its private- intimate even. You order drinks and your meal, the night goes well. Two friends catching up on daily life, Chan going on and on about new songs and sounds, how Han almost broke the microphone when he went a little hard in the sound booth, and how Lee Know was really off key that day so they’re going to have to re-record tomorrow.
You’re laughing at a story about Seungmin making fun of I.N when you see it. Your heart rate skyrockets and your breath catches.
Him. Your ex. He walks in with a new girl on his arm and your stomach turns in knots. Chan sees the instant change in you, goosebumps raise up on your skin as if the room dropped 20 degrees.
Chan follows your line of sight and his back goes rigid. Were you over the heartbreak? Mostly. You accepted that it was over, but that didn’t make seeing him any easier, especially with someone new. Chan notices the way you shrink into yourself. He grabs your hand and rubs his thumb over your knuckles.
“You okay?”
You give him a simple nod.
“Y/n?” That familiar voice calls. Your stomach drops and you stare at Chan with wide eyes. In the blink of an eye Chan winks before plastering a smile on his face. Your brows furrow.
“Hey, Cade,” he smiles all too politely. You look over and notice the slightly confused expression on your ex-boyfriend's face.
“Hey, i, uh, didn’t know you would be here tonight.”
“Yeah well, my girl deserves the best.” He chimes in effortlessly, his thumb resuming the circles on your hand. You can’t fake the genuinely amused smile that appears , because you see the lines creasing on Cade’s face.
“You two are… together.. Now?”
“Yeah, and man I can’t thank you enough for letting her go. I finally got my chance and I don’t plan on squandering it.”
Your cheeks heat up and you look down at the table. Cade is speechless.
“Well… congratulations… It’s good seeing ya, y/n.” he says and awkwardly waves to go back to his table. You give him a tight lipped smile and turn to face Chan who looks like the cat who ate the canary.
“Why did you do that?!” You whisper yell. Chan only smirks before slightly cutting his eyes at your ex’s table and turning to you.
“Because I wanted to see him uncomfortable.” His nonchalant tone causes you to furrow your brows.
“Maybe we should just go,” you start to slide out of the booth but Chan gently grips your wrist.
“Don’t let him ruin our meal. Please?”
You sigh begrudgingly.
“Only because you asked so nicely,” you tease him. But part of you liked how he was acting. It was sweet, respectful, but dominant in a way that makes you feel safe. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing and has it all under control.
“Wanna kick it up a notch?” He smirks playfully. You raise a brow in silent question.
“What do you mean?”
He slides in the booth beside you, putting his arm around your shoulder.
“He’s looking, just go with it,” he whispers in your ear, causing your stomach to knot and goosebumps to litter your skin again. A blush spreads on your cheeks and down your neck.
“Mhm, just like that. Good girl.” He teases lightly trying to get more of a reaction.
And boy does it. A soft giggle leaves you by accident and you lean into him trying to hide your face in his neck. You bite down on your bottom lip as he chuckles and lets you hide. For a moment, there’s no game, there’s no show, it’s just you, Chan and something between you now that’s starting to feel a little too real.
The waiter returns with your meals, sitting them down on the table, and you give a shy smile thanking him. Chan kisses your forehead then your cheek before turning to his plate. For a brief moment, you miss the feeling of his warmth around your shoulders. But you force yourself to eat, glancing around noticing Cade’s eyes as they glance towards your table. You quickly look down at your food and eat.
One of Chan’s hands rests on your thigh. Something in your chest tightens as you place your hand over his for a second before cutting a piece of your food.
Over the course of dinner you halfway forget what’s happening is meant to be for show. Your smile becomes brighter, your giggles become genuine, and out of the corner of your eye, Cade is still sparing the two of you glances.
As dinner winds down, Chan takes your hand and helps you up out of the booth, smiling like he’s a fool in love. Your expression mirrors his as he kisses your forehead before paying at the counter and walking out.
-
On the ride home, reality crashes in violently.
A show. A performance. All of it, fake. And it breaks your heart in a way you hadn’t anticipated. The drive home is in silence, your eyes watching as the world blurs by in the car. The silence is tense, filled with words you wish you could say. But Chan is your friend. That’s all he would ever be.
The car pulls into the parking garage, and the walk up to your shared apartment is still silent.
“You okay?” His voice cuts through the silence like a sharp blade.
“Mhm,” you nod, but both of you know it’s not true. You don’t look at him, only staring at the stainless steel doors of the elevator.
Finally they open to your floor. The short walk from the elevator to the door is tense, and each second that passes makes you wish you could just get out of this situation.
Finally the door opens, the apartment is dark, lit only by the moonlight coming in from the windows.
“Thanks for tonight,” you say quietly, and yet it sounds too loud in the dead silence of the living room.
“Y/n,” he says softly. You stop, your back to him, eyes staring down the hallway to your bedroom.
“Yeah?” Your voice comes out cracked, you hadn’t even realized that a tear had tracked its way down your cheek until you reached up to your face and felt the wetness there. Chan’s hand gently grips your wrist and spins you to face him. His eyes are laced with worry as they rake over your expression.
“What’s a matter?” He whispers, cupping your face.
“Nothing,” you whisper, a blatant lie. Chan’s thumb brushes away the tear.
“It was just.. Seeing him and the way you treated me tonight… it was nice to feel wanted again… and then it made me miss it worse,” you barely whisper.
His forehead goes to yours.
“You are wanted,” he rasps.
“Chan-”
“I want you,” he admits before you can finish. Your breath hitches. Your eyes look back and forth between his. Before Chan can really over think it, his lips find yours in a sweet, soft but also assured kiss. He knows what he wants, and he’s making it clear.
A surprised noise leaves you, your lips paralyzed for only a few moments before they move against his, your hands gripping his wrists. Its magical, it’s soft but sure. It’s two friends crossing a line neither knew the other one wanted to.
Chan pulls you closer, his tongue darting over your bottom lip and your mouth parts for him, letting him explore. His tongue glides against yours and a soft whimper escapes your throat. You can feel him smirk slightly against your mouth as one hand slides into your hair and one goes around your waist. Your arms snake around his neck, forcing the two of you closer together.
“Tell me to stop,” he breathes against your mouth.
“Nuh uh,” you respond immediately. He breaks the kiss, taking a moment to search your face for any uncertainty.
“If we do this,” he whispers, letting the sentence hang. For a moment the only sound heard is your mutual heavy breathing. This is it. Do you cross the line forever? Is it already crossed? Probably.
You take his hand, lacing your fingers together before gently pulling him towards your bedroom with a soft, shy smile. He follows, wordlessly.
You pull him down on top of you as your back hits the mattress. His nose brushes yours before he kisses you deeply. His hands start to roam, hiking your leg up over his hip as he ruts slightly against you, causing you to gasp.
“Chan-” you breathe against his mouth. The outline is felt, he’s beyond ready.
“Need you,” he breathes before capturing your lips again. He removes your dress and his lips find your neck, one hand pulling up your dress to expose your body to him. He pulls back, looking down at you like you're a rare work of art.
“Fuck,” he breathes deeply before kissing you deeply again. He leaves open mouthed kisses down your neck and chest down to your sternum, before taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking softly, tongue swiping across it, causing short soft bits of pleasure to shoot into your abdomen, making your hips roll upward. The sounds you make cause his hips to stutter. His eyes roll back into his head as he feels slight friction against himself. He lets go, giving the other side attention.
Once he lets go he smiles up at you.
“Such a good girl for me,” he flicks your hardened bud with the tip of his tongue forcing a soft cry from your throat. He chuckles before kissing down your stomach.
“So pretty,” he whimpers against your hips as he thrusts his hips into the mattress now. He pulls your underwear down in one swoop, settling between your legs. He kisses up your thighs, and for a moment you can feel the frustration building. He chuckles as he see the way your hips jerk slightly.
“Paitence baby,” he tuts and you whine in response. He chuckles before kissing over your mound, spreading you open and blowing slightly against your bare core.
You hiss in response, your back arching slightly. While your brain still processes the foreign feeling, suddenly a warm, wet feeling hits you.
His tongue. It laves over your nub. A gasp leaves you as your eyes roll back and your back arches as he gently, teasingly assaults you. Your hips buck slightly against his mouth, forcing him to hook his arms around your thighs, holding you still as he feasts now, locking his eyes with yours. Moans, whimpers, groans and cries fill the room as he bares down, pushing you just to the edge, before backing off. His tongue traces figure 8’s on you before circling and sucking like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. He plunges his tongue into your hole, making your back arch as he simply chuckles, forcing a vibration against you.
His finger replaces his tongue, slowly making the come hither motion. He quickly adds another, finding that beautiful spot inside you. Forcing out cock hardening sounds to leave your mouth as his tongue strikes your nub. Your hand grips his hair, pulling him closer.
“Chan!” Your voice breaks on his name as the tightening in your stomach begins.
“Don’t stop, please, baby, don’t-” a sharp cry leaves you suddenly as he hits your sweet spot faster.. He starts moaning, forcing vibrations to push you over the edge, causing you to cry out, your thighs to clamp around his head and your back to leave the mattress.
He works you through your orgasm, only stopping when you try to push his headway from overstimulation.
“Fuck you taste so good,” he says once he kisses up your body back to your lips, his tongue plunging into your mouth, letting you taste yourself. His hands work to get his pants and boxers off.
“This okay?” He whispers, double checking your consent.
“Yeah,” you whisper back. He nods and finishes undressing. He hovers above you.
“I’m gonna go slow, just tell me if I need to stop,” he warns gently and you nod. He lines himself up, his eyes going to yours as he pushes in.
“Oh God,” he groans as you gasp.
“That’s it, baby. Just take it,” he breathes into your ear. You whimper in response as he finally gets himself sheathed inside you.
“Fuck you feel so good… Like home,” he says lowly in your ear. He pulls out and slides back in, creating a gentle rhythm. He takes your hand, lacing your fingers with his, beside your head as his eyes peer down into yours. Your mouth hangs open slightly as the pleasure starts to build.
“God you sound so pretty like this,” he moans as he hears you whimper and moan. Your legs hook around his waist, letting him drive in deeper. He kisses along your neck, sucking marks and nipping at the skin there below your ear.
“Y/n,” he groans as your muscles squeeze him.
“Feels so good,” you whimper, hips bucking to meet his thrusts as he picks up the pace. He kisses you deeply, tongue plunging in and out of your mouth in time with his thrusts.
“You’re everything,” he growls softly. Your body arches into him, your chests pressed together.
“I love you, Chan,” you breathe as your bodies start to tense, pleasure and heat rising between you.
“I love you more,” he breathes before going faster, forcing you to completely abandon all thought. Only feelings exist. Only pleasure. Only him.
“Chan- ah!” Your body desperately tries to writhe beneath him as he sucks a nipple into his mouth causing you to groan.
The tightness builds, your muscles contracting before a scream rips from your lungs and your body trembles as you squeeze around him, forcing him over the edge.
“Shit,” you breathe deeply despite the trembling. For a moment the two of you are suspended in a tense moment of realization. You did it… You felt wanted… You felt desired and loved. You still do.
“Chan,” you whisper and he takes one of his hands and cups your face.
“Please don’t tell me you regret it,” he whispers vulnerably. You immediately shake your head.
“No- no I don’t,” you reassure him and it’s like you can see the relief on his face.
“Good, because I don’t either.” He kisses you chastely before pulling out slowly, making you both groan. He grabs a towel, wiping off both him and you. Your hips twitch as he gets close to your clit.
“Sorry.” His voice is gentle as he methodically and carefully cleans you up. He discards the towel and pulls you into his arms.
“It was nice to feel like you were mine for a night,” he says in your ear.
“It was nice to feel like yours,” you admit.
“I want to feel that all the time.”
“Me too,” you look up at him, eyes wide and puppy-like. He smiles and kisses you passionately.
“Good, because I’m not letting go. Not ever,” he whispers against your lips.
° you & your boyfriend are adjusting to life since you sustained a spinal cord injury, finding how to stay connected [based early 2021]
wordcount:: 8,469
° commissioned by the bloody wonder that is jace 💋 (@punk-gremlin) thankyou for your trust, your honesty [commissions get to be my prioritea, secure the next one here!]
° [ITA:] amore: love - principessa: princess
You couldn’t get comfortable, you couldn’t relax. You were finally in bed, the location you had been thinking about literally all day. During your intensive physical therapy session, imagining this bed and being in it with your boyfriend had been the only thing to keep you sane. It was the light at the end of the tunnel.
But it wasn’t a simple reward, as it had been in your mind. In the aftermath of your freak car accident, nothing really was simple anymore.
In the weeks since being discharged from the rehabilitation centre, you had been faced with a life full of adjustments. The spinal cord injury dictated that you come at almost everything from a new angle. It was your reality, but your perspective had changed.
You were affected from your belly button down. There was slight movement in your legs and so this was the area that your physical therapy sessions focused on. The goal was to get you walking again.
And your legs felt this effort long after the session’s conclusion. The muscles were so sore, painkillers had only taken the edge off of the hurting. It always felt like it took so much to recover from the exertion of a session, keeping you from fully relaxing and thinking about anything else.
Your boyfriend was trying to help with this. Damiano was adjusting, almost as much as you were. His typical schedule had been disrupted and moved around so radically as he endeavoured to be by your side as often as possible (which was easier now that you were out of hospital, no longer kept apart by the rigid restrictions that the pandemic had made necessary).
He wanted to hear, and find a solution for, your every complaint. Right now that meant massaging your legs, using the methods he had been taught to relieve the spasming you were plagued by. It wasn’t the same as when he used to give you massages, he wasn’t as sure of himself. He was still learning the spots where you felt far too much, as opposed to the areas where you felt nothing at all.
He kept pausing, he would ease his hands off and look up at you, checking the look on your face. And you would smile and nod your head each time, because it was helping. It was gradual but you could feel the tension fading out.
“That’s great.” You encouraged when the uncertainty interrupted him again, little lines of worry appearing. “Could you keep going?”
“Of course, I just didn’t want to…”
You had heard the end of this sentence enough times in the past six months to know what he was thinking. You reached your hand out to rest on top of his. “I know. But you won’t break me, I promise that’s not gonna happen. It helps when you touch me, it really, really helps.”
This earned you a smile from him, some of the concern leaving his expression. He turned his wrist so that he could hold your hand. Then he began leaning closer to you and you saw him becoming more sure of himself. The way he was looking at you set you into reminiscing, reminding you of the days before you were injured.
He kissed you, soft at first and instantly followed by a pause where he lingered, mouths close but not touching as he attempted to assess your mood from your current demeanour. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you showed him by pushing your lips against his, with far less restraint than him.
He responded as you craved, his lips beginning to work with yours. He placed his other hand to your cheek, enticing you in closer. As both of his lips caressed your bottom lip, you found yourself noticing the discomfort in your legs far less.
You tilted your head, following him into this deeper kiss. It was so indulgent and you enjoyed having this as your primary focus. You didn’t have to think through your next moves, it all came so naturally. You wrapped an arm around the back of his neck, needing him to stay this close.
When he dragged his tongue along the line where your lips met, you allowed your mouth to open. As his tongue ventured into your mouth, his fingers stroked so tenderly across your cheek. This prompted a heat to come into your body, so decadent. Your thoughts travelled away from your legs, going to different locations of your body.
He drew his tongue along the roof of your mouth before gently parting from the kiss. You were pleased when he didn’t put any substantial distance between the two of you. You kept your eyes shut, finding the peaceful simplicity in listening to him catch his breath.
“I know what you meant when you said that thing about me touching you being helpful. But, you know me, my brain took that to a dirty place.” He said with a little chuckle.
You were smiling as you opened your eyes. “Oh yeah, do you wanna give me more details about this dirty place?”
“It wasn’t anything especially clever, you could probably already guess it for yourself…” He said, and you watched as his uncertainties came creeping back in. He lowered his eyes from your face, so different from the man who used to proudly share with you every innuendo as soon as it came into his head.
Your accident had caused a drastic remodelling of your sex life. Most days you tried to avoid thinking about it because it had gotten much more complicated, and you sensed that he was following your lead.
You hadn’t successfully gone through with the act yet. There had been a handful of attempts since you had gotten home because you still desired him, a lot. But you hadn’t been able to translate cravings into truly enjoying.
The most common outcome was you becoming frustrated. The memories that got you so turned on, also haunted you. The reminder of how different everything was upset you. You would compare your current performance to the past, unable to make the thoughts stop until you were totally out of the moment, feeling so separate from him and wanting to cry.
On your first morning back at home, you had awoken to the feeling of his hard dick against you. He had told you to ignore it, writing it off as a case of morning wood. But you had kissed him and wiggled your way closer to him, replying that finally feeling his body in bed with you again had prompted some thoughts.
Using your hands, you had gotten him off. You had hardly kissed him during this because you had been so entranced by watching him, feeling the intimacy that way. It had felt like a very sexy triumph when you had seen that thick cum shooting out of his tip. Both of you had laughed when he joked about making this your home-cum-ing.
The atmosphere had been fast to change when he offered to return the favour. He had begun in the way he often did in the past - at your clitoris. It used to be the ideal spot to stimulate you from, but you hadn’t felt anything. His skilled fingers had failed to create any sensations in you.
He had kept trying, but as more time passed you had only moved further away from feeling aroused. It was an alienating experience, because you knew how it should feel. But there had been nothing.
He hadn’t gotten discouraged. He had been more than ready to explore and try different things, different paths to your orgasm. But the moment had been well and truly over for you, you were dejected, overwhelmed by how different everything had become.
He had backed off instantly, holding your hand and telling you how much he loved you. It had been a sour note to start your first full day back at home.
You felt like he had been holding back since then. You supposed his goal was to avoid pressuring you. It had been up to you to bring it up - you hated how uncomfortable everything around the topic of sex had become. But you thought things wouldn’t improve if you kept avoiding it.
You gave his hand a squeeze. “I wanna hear it, regardless.”
“I was gonna offer to see where else my touch could really help. Because you know how much I love to be helpful.” He said, a shy kind of smile pulling at one of his cheeks.
You didn’t hesitate to kiss him, seeing how his smile developed as a result. “I love that idea.” You tightened your arm around him, trying to get him to come closer. “Get over here.”
He didn’t immediately move. “But, your legs. I’m happy to keep massaging, if you need…”
“No, no, they’re definitely starting to calm down and the painkillers will take care of the rest.” You said. “I wanna feel that helpful touch somewhere else now.”
“Okay, princess.” He said, letting you fully distract him from this earlier task.
Now he put both of his hands to your cheeks, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned in again. You were pleased when this kiss was followed by another-and-another, the two of you falling into a heated rhythm. You held both of your arms around him, dedicating all of your energy to this embrace.
He tentatively started to lean his body weight into you and his tongue tasted at your lips some more. You moved your hand up to the back of his head, his floppy hair gliding between your fingers. You held him here, a silent request for more as your tongue extended to meet his.
You relocated one of your arms, wrapping it around his torso, just beneath his armpits. This was another attempt to bring him closer. His body was warming your skin, and inside you were heating up all the more, an exciting fire brought into you.
To keep from upsetting yourself with reminders of what was different - you centred all of the pleasure around him. You knew how to get him off in a way that would attract absolutely no attention to your new limitations.
And that was the path you planned to take. Your hope was to gain a contact high off of his orgasm. He never held back from expressing when he was enjoying himself, so you would be able to easily track the build up of his pleasure. You could get so wrapped up in his every reaction that you would be satisfied by seeing him reach the climax, not needing to try for your own. You couldn’t fail at something if you didn’t make an attempt.
You thought it was a good idea that you were eager to get properly started on. As you massaged your tongue against the roof of his mouth, he trailed his hand down your face, going to the side of your neck instead. Using just his fingertips, he rubbed up-and-down, prompting trembles through you as he successfully triggered some sensitivities.
You tightened your arm around him, rewarded with the feeling of his firm chest pressed on yours. Your bodies were starting to get so connected and the closeness brought a kind of clarity to your thoughts, keeping you present.
But you couldn’t help noticing the area where he was still separate from you. There was a greater proximity you could have been enjoying, but you sensed that he was holding back. All that you wanted to do was get lost in his lust and the fun that could be drawn from his body, like old times.
But it seemed more work was required to get him on the same page as you.
“You’re not close enough.” You said.
He paused and looked down, surveying the distance between the two of you, probably trying to plan his next move. “I’m not? I’m just trying not-...”
“Come sit in my lap, amore.” You invited. “Get properly close.” He didn’t make any immediate moves. “You can sit here, it’s not going to hurt me. Please, I can take the weight of your body, you know I can.”
He readjusted, but he kissed you before taking up a new position. This helped you to feel a little better, helped to keep you hoping that this encounter would reach the desired result.
You adopted a more serious expression before he could begin to straddle you. “Actually…” This succeeded in getting him to stop instantly. “I don’t know if you can…” He waited, his brow furrowing in concern. “Not while you’re still wearing so many clothes.”
He chuckled, quickly putting his hands down to the bottom of his shirt. “You had me fooled.”
You nodded, grinning. “Yep, I got you good.”
“Well what about you and all the clothes you’re still wearing?” He asked.
“Oh.” You looked down at the pyjamas you were dressed in, they were decorated with various Pokémon. It was hardly a seductive look, but you weren’t sure you knew how to do that anymore.
You could take the top off without issue, almost as fast as him. But the pants slowed you down, there was a lot more involved in the process. He helped you straight away.
Before he could start to take your underwear down, you redirected his attention by tugging on his sweatpants. He pushed them lower, and once they were around his thighs you grabbed for his underwear. You aimed to keep your pussy covered, it would help keep things moving smoothly.
He got completely naked before you and your hands quickly got to exploring across his tattooed body, so many good ideas filling your brain. You put one of your hands up to his cheek, using this to draw him in so that you could resume kissing him. He moved into your embrace, his mouth opening instantly.
He gave you the improved position straight away, keeping his lips on yours as he began to straddle you. Your back was pushed to the padded headboard and you savoured all of the things this new closeness provided to you. Concentrating on the way his skin felt on yours kept you from following unhelpful trains of thought.
You pushed your tongue over his lower lip, gliding into his mouth. At the same time he brought his hand down, covering one of your breasts with it. His other arm went around your middle and you held him tight in your arms.
He sat on the tops of your thighs, his hips pressed to yours. Your heartbeat was picking up speed and you were taking note of all of his little reactions. You loved to be in this intense moment, just going with your instincts of what would feel good. With him you could be content, facing nothing that challenged your capabilities.
As you dragged your tongue back-and-forth along his row of teeth, his fingers savoured your bare breast. He traced the natural curve with a touch so light, the teasing was enough to bring a shiver from you. He drew a line across the surface, until he could get to the nipple, which was firm as it awaited his touch. He kept this light as his fingertips followed the ring of your areola. It was barely more than a whisper against your skin but you fixated so entirely on the motion. Your body was aching for more in a way that would truly threaten your patience - but it was the best kind of ache you had felt all day.
“Princess…” He purred, only adding to that need in you. “I love you.”
You licked your lips as you started to move your hands down his back. “I love you too.”
He gave your nipple a gentle squeeze between his thumb and index finger, his eyes sparkling as he watched for your reaction. He was steadily introducing tingles into your system. The good kind - the kind that were fun, like the larger scale of a fizzy drink’s bubbles filling your mouth. It helped you to feel different in your body.
He increased the pressure and more desire pooled in you. Your response was to get your hands down onto his ass, grabbing both cheeks. You used your hold to guide him forward, even closer to you. As you felt more of his body on yours, you identified what you had been hoping for: his erection.
He smiled before covering your mouth with more kisses. You didn’t let go of his ass, instead using this to encourage him to begin grinding on you. You couldn’t start the motion with your own hips, but luckily it didn’t take him much to figure out how you wanted things to progress.
He moved slowly, rocking himself forward then back and you loved to feel his body dragging against yours. You craved that feeling of being so close that you lost track of where he ended and you began.
He pulled on your nipple, then released it altogether. He transferred his fingers to your other nipple and you whined when he instantly gave this a firm pinch.
He kept rolling his hips into you, his rhythm felt so good and you could feel that he was properly dedicated to it. His faster and shallower breaths told you that he was feeling the promise.
And you wanted to get him further. Your hand went from his butt to the front of his body, roaming downward. He kept kissing you, only parting from your lips when you wrapped your fingers around his dick.
You assumed this was just to catch his breath as he continued to rock his hips. You started to stroke your hand up-and-down his length, it was already so hard in your hand. His eyelids fluttered but remained shut as you found a maintainable motion, treating his shaft with consistency.
Before you could find the right rhythm, he was interrupting you by grabbing at your wrist with both hands. His eyes had opened and now he was staring you down.
“Slow down a bit, alright?” He said gently, the movements of his hips now so slight that you hardly noticed them.
“Oh, okay.” You said, moving your hand away. “Sorry, I didn’t-”
“No, you don’t have to apologise.” He quickly told you. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t want you to get distracted by doing all of that.”
“I can use my mouth.” You offered.
“No, that’s not what I meant. I was thinking that we would concentrate on you.” He said.
You put your hands to his cheeks, pulling him closer because you wanted to distract him as quickly as possible. “But I have all of these ideas…” You kissed him firmly. “There’s so much I wanna do for you.” You dragged your fingernails down his back, trying to find the right way to recentre his lust. “Amore, you take such good care of me…” He kissed you back each time, but there was something about the look on his face. “It’s truly amazing, and I wanna give you a proper and filthy thank you.” You took the opportunity to kiss him more, maybe there was a secret quota you could reach. “Don’t you want that?”
He leaned back, looking at you with that serious expression on his face. “It’s not necessary, you have thanked me properly, plenty of times.”
“Well then I will say it more simply: I wanna get you off.” You told him.
This didn’t make him move back in. “And I feel the same way, but for you…”
You were trying to not worry, that would make it more difficult for you to find solutions. And maybe there was a chance that you could keep this going in the right direction. “Okay. You’re already hard, we should make use of that.”
“Or we could make use of that package that came when you were still in the hospital.” He said and you knew exactly what he was referring to.
You dropped your eyes, you could remember the sleepless night spent on the internet that had led to the purchase. Your mind had been far too active, an overwhelming mess. And taking action to buy something physical had helped you feel less ineffectual.
This was a very personal part of your recovery. You had been terrified of the embarrassment that would surely come from discussing it with any of your doctors. You hadn’t known how to bring it up to Damiano. The visiting hours at the hospital had been so limited, finding the right time to talk about it had felt impossible.
You had devoured articles posted online. You read about the experiences of similarly injured women. So many of them had enthusiastically recommended the same device, convincing you to buy it.
But you hadn’t taken the jack rabbit out of its box yet. After the unsuccessful attempts at having sex, you had been feeling like your pleasure was a fruitless chase. In your more defeated moments, you had felt ashamed of spending so much money on such a non-essential item.
“Do you remember what you said when you were letting me know it would arrive?” He asked, his voice so tender. “You said you would talk to me about it when you were ready, then you sent me a shit-ton of links of stuff for me to read, and you said we would talk about that later, too.”
“So have you just been waiting for me to bring it up, or something?” You asked, trying to keep any bitterness out of your voice.
“No. I have been waiting for the chance to tell you that I read all of them and I get it- well, as much as I can. I understand that sex is going to be really different for you, for us now.” He said, he subtly held one of his hands out to you, leaving the physical contact up to you. “And that doesn’t bother me. I am willing to try out as many new things as you want. I want to learn how to make you feel good, princess.”
You continued to avoid his eyes. “What if all our exploring leads to absolutely nothing?”
“Won’t you feel better for trying?” He asked.
“I don’t know.” The apprehension and doubts had you speaking at a lower volume than before.
You put your hand in his. “It seems like you’ve thought about this a lot.”
“Because I have. But I didn’t want to pressure you into a conversation you weren’t ready for. But sex kind of just came up tonight and those thoughts were waiting for me. I want to try, principessa.” He said, giving your hand a squeeze. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured to orgasm, like that’s the only thing I’m waiting for and I will be disappointed if it doesn’t happen.
“It’s not like that in my head, my goal is to make you feel good and feel close to you.” He said and you were gradually lifting your eyes back up to his face. “Even if we don’t find that magical thing that makes you come, and instead we just discover something that makes you feel really fuckin’ good- so happy, so warm inside, so floaty in your head. That would be as satisfying for me as you getting me off. And I only say that because I mean it.”
“I know.” You said. You leaned forward, sighing as you rested your head on his bare shoulder. “I’m just scared that this is going to be another thing that I can’t do all of a sudden, and then what does that mean for us, Damiano?”
He placed an arm around you, running his hand up-and-down your back. “It means that we adapt and try different things. There’s nothing wrong with different, it’s like people always say: variety is the spice of life. And you know how much I love cooking with spices.”
You gave a quick chuckle. “Yes, me and my tastebuds are very aware of that.”
He kissed you on the forehead. “Look, we don’t have to keep talking about this and if the mood has just gone, that’s alright. We…”
You sat up so you could look into his eyes, resting your palm on his chest. “The mood hasn’t gone. I want- of course I want you like that. Are you kidding, you’re so sexy and these days you have your hands on me like all of the time. But I’m just scared.”
“Nothing is gonna be too difficult for me to want to try.” He said. “We can go as slowly as you need to and we’ve got the safe word if you just need everything to stop.”
You had begun to nod your head, before making the conscious decision. “Can you please turn the light off? I think it will help me get out of my head and just concentrate on feeling.”
“Of course.” He said, but his next action was to put his hands up on your face. “Before I do that, I just want to have a good look at my gorgeous girlfriend.”
You relaxed a little, returning his smile as he moved in to kiss you. Feeling his lips on yours kept you from thinking up new concerns to dwell on. You weren’t totally confident but there was a definite lowering of your focus.
“I love you, principessa.” He told you, making you smile again.
“I love you too.” You said.
“I’ve got you. We’re in this together.” He said, a deep look into your eyes drove home how serious he was.
Then he moved, shifting his focus and mood at the same time. “Alright, before I turn the light off: do you want me to get the new toy, or should we save that for a different night?”
“It’s gotta be used sooner or later, right? How about you grab it?” You asked, hints of enthusiasm coming into your tone. “And the lube- can you get that, as well?”
“I was already planning on it.” He said with a wink.
He stood up and set about collecting these items. You began to slowly readjust, getting yourself to a more suitable position. You leaned your body weight back and gathered up handfuls of the sheet. You worked your way down, pushing with your ass and moving your legs the small amount they were willing to go.
You got yourself to the point where you could lay flat on your back, your head rested on your pillow. The effort made you a little short on breath, but you didn’t settle yet - you still had to get your panties off. You were tugging them off of your hips when he cast the room into shadows by switching the bedside lamp off.
His gentle voice accompanied the action of him sitting down on the mattress again. “Can I help?” He knew how stubborn you could get about wanting to complete a task without assistance (it was a trait you had before the accident).
But that wasn’t a behaviour you were about to indulge. “Yes, please.”
You hadn’t been able to get the garment any lower than your thighs because the material kept getting trapped between your body and the bed. Then you wouldn’t be able to properly move the part of your body causing this issue.
He could quickly manoeuvre your limbs as he needed, pulling the panties down then getting your feet free one by one.
Then he laid down, getting close enough that you could feel his body heat on you again. Your attention went to his fingers, rather than the toy. He brushed his fingers against your cheek, a prelude to his next kiss.
You wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer as a flurry of kisses began. You kept up with him, wanting to show him just how much your lustful mood continued. He laid partially on top of you and you adored the compression, being so grounded beneath him. Feeling so much of his body on yours was shifting your perspective, encouraging you to shed even more of those doubts.
“How do you wanna start?” He asked. “Do you want my fingers, or the toy?”
You swallowed, pushing down any trepidation so that you could prioritise your trust of him. “Can we try the toy?”
“Of course, anything you want, principessa.” He said. His lips collided with yours before he shifted, only some of his body moving off of yours. “I was thinking that we would work up to the vibrations. Does that sound good?”
“Mm-hmm.” You nodded your head even though there was no guarantee of him seeing this, you were just a big shadow in the room.
You caught the sweet scent of artificial strawberry before you started to hear the sounds of lubricant being applied to the phallic toy. You kept both of your arms around him as you steadily caught your breath.
One of his hands had moved down, going in between where your legs were lying apart. You were much more aware of his other hand when it started to caress up-and-down your side. This coincided with how he leaned in closer again. You initiated the first kiss, which he quickly responded to, letting you feel more of his body and you secured your arms tighter around him.
“I love feeling this body under me, my gorgeous princess.” He said. “And having you home, back in this bed, in my arms- it’s the best thing.”
You smiled before returning your mouth to his, reciprocating his feelings this way. Your tongue teased at his lips as you pushed one of your hands into his hair, securing some strands between your fingers. His hand glided in another upward motion, this time going to your breast, cupping it.
You felt a keen heat spreading under your skin and you eased your tongue into his mouth. He rewarded this by setting his fingers onto your nipple again. Your whimper was muffled by his lips and you lost track of any restrictions in the dark, only feeling potential.
Your heart instantly picked up speed when you felt the tapered tip of the toy starting to press into you. You gripped his hair tighter as your chest expanded. He rolled your nipple under his thumb, giving you so much arousal to concentrate on.
“Is that alright?” He asked in a whisper.
“Mmn, feels good.” You said, taking notice of how much desire was pooling in your pussy - it was unignorable now.
You captured his lips with yours, letting your need to have consistent and full breaths slip way down on your list of priorities. He rushed to follow one kiss with another.
He gently began to pump the toy, holding its base steady as he worked it a little deeper each time. Your inner-walls easily parted to allow this action. As he kept going, beginning into an unhurried tempo, you noticed how the effects were reaching further through your body. You could feel a tightening at your core, the anticipation of more stimulation to come held you in a firm grip.
You pushed your chest flush to his, savouring every part of his body that you could feel. The way that the blood was pumping so fast in your system was giving you a giddy rush. And he only encouraged this further, his fingers closing around your nipple for another pinch.
Wet sounds were accompanying every move he made with the toy, a perverted soundtrack to go with your soaring excitement. Your body was dominated by a radiating heat as he got the entire length of the sex toy pushed inside of you.
The rabbit-style vibrator had an external option, two silicone ‘ears’ that were intended to work on your clit. But he wasn’t about to repeat history. He was adapting to the fact that you had lost an incredible amount of sensation in the clitoris, instead keeping his focus to what could be achieved through penetration only.
You didn’t feel as if there was anything that you were missing out on - his consistent and deep strokes had you riding higher.
He adjusted his angle and you started to believe that perfect peak could be possible for you. He had driven the dildo’s rounded head directly into your g-spot, immediately adding so much fuel to the fire inside of you. So many sensitivities roared to life, almost overwhelming as they rushed you.
Your mouth left his as your head rolled back, gasping in a quick breath. Your heart was pounding as he kept the toy in motion, pulling it back then connecting with your g-spot repeatedly. He relocated his mouth down to your neck and you kept holding him so tight.
“Fuck.” The word struggled to get free from your throat.
“Is that still feeling good?” He asked, and the teasing in his voice made you smile. It told you that he wasn’t presently worrying about somehow breaking you. He was purely invested in your pleasure, and not held back by any uncertainties.
“Yes. But I would actually call it amazing.” You said. “So much better than just really good. God, so much better.”
“Amazing?” He repeated.
“Yes, amazing.” You said, vehemently nodding your head. “Please don’t stop.”
“Oh, I won’t, princess.” He said before you felt his lips crushing against yours - disappearing before you had any chance to respond. “I’m so happy that it’s feeling amazing already, that’s so fuckin’ great. It’s exactly what I wanted.” You relaxed your hand in his hair, switching to pushing your fingertips across his scalp. “But- and feel free to shut this train of thought down, I wonder if amazing could be improved upon, because I haven’t even turned this thing on yet. What would happen if I turned it on? Or maybe I shouldn’t do that at all…”
Your first reaction was to laugh and you simply let it out. Your elevated endorphins saw the noise coming out louder than what would be typical. You couldn’t help it, you genuinely didn’t know how you would cope with more. You were already being dazzled by more than you had hoped for. Could you be affected even deeper?
Your laughter died down as you realised that you wanted to find out. You were intrigued by the idea of trying the absolute most. You weren’t overwhelmed yet and you wanted to know what it took to get there.
“Do it. Turn it on.” You said, surprised by the steadiness you heard in your voice.
He paused, stilling the toy inside of you. “Are you… you really want to do that, princess? ‘Cause I won’t judge you if you decide not to, I was just playing around.”
You reached down, securing your fingers around his wrist so that you could keep him from backing off any further. You definitely weren’t ready to stop feeling the dildo inside of you. “I wanna. Let’s see if this is the magical thing that makes me come.”
“You can stop or change your mind and we’ll turn off the vibrations straight away. At any time.” He said with a new softness in his tone, no longer teasing.
You thought this switch may have come from you surprising him. Potentially you were going further than he had been expecting. You liked the idea that you had surprised him, it felt good to believe that was the case. It gave you a nice sense of power.
“I got it.” You affirmed.
He adjusted his hold on the toy and you were pleased that this didn’t lead to it slipping from its deep spot. His finger found the button and the vibrations commenced. You wanted to confirm with him that amazing could be improved on, but you were too overcome to form words.
The sensitivities that you had already been feeling were immediately magnified. The steady pulsations had your inner-walls clenching. You briefly lamented that you didn’t feel able to start pumping your hips - it would have been nice to put the excited energy filling you to use. You just felt how it ruled you, running wild through so much of your body.
You let out another laugh, shorter this time. But it was just as euphoric with you accepting that you had to surrender. There was no settling amongst all of this intensity. You didn’t know how you would be able to regain your control, but you were fine without it.
“Is that giving you some magic, principessa?” He asked, sounding like he already had the answer and he was happy with it.
“Fuck yes.” You said, holding onto him with one arm while you gripped the bedsheets with your other hand.
He began to move the toy, tapping into the motion that had earlier gotten such great results. Your cunt kept clenching, ensuring there wasn’t a single inch that didn’t feel the pulsing massage.
The next noise that you made was a very loud moan. There were no thoughts in your head as you accepted the way your system was being completely overloaded. It was pure ecstasy, seeming like it wouldn’t end.
“Ah, ah- amore.” The sob ripped its way free from deep in your chest as the edge daunted you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop.” Everything seemed to be falling into place, poised and ready for your ruin. “I think I’m gun- ah!”
“Yes, yes, yes, let it go.” He coached, relentlessly working the toy into you. “Let it all go.”
The orgasm was so powerful that it felt like it launched you out of your body. You so quickly and so thoroughly transcended - your consciousness only knew pure pleasure.
You gasped for air as you steadily returned to your body. You found a profound relief radiating out from the very core of your being.
He had turned the vibrations off, no longer pumping it inside your cunt. Now his hands were still as he cradled you in his arms. He whispered your name, somehow making it sound like a great compliment.
Your mind was absolutely blown, leaving you still unable to fully believe how great you felt. It was too good to be true, more than you had dared to hope for.
“Oh my God.” You said, feeling more grateful than you had the words to express. You started to babble, words rushing out with no pause for consideration. “I didn’t think that- I didn’t- oh my God. That was crazy, so crazy and I had no idea it was gonna hap- yeah, I had read all that stuff online, but it’s just words ‘til it actually happens for you. And it did happen and it was so… I think that’s the best orgasm of my whole entire life. I would have been happy with even the smallest, but that was just so…
“Why didn’t we do that sooner?” You asked.
“It doesn’t matter, we did it, that’s the important thing.” He said, giving you an affectionate squeeze. “I’m so happy we tried.”
“You’re happy?” You repeated. “I’m happy, but like an insane level of happy.” He chuckled, just enjoying your giddy outburst. “I don’t think I’ve felt this happy since… I feel like myself. So much of that fear is just-... I feel like me- like I’m still me.”
He kissed you on the forehead. “‘Cause you are still yourself. You have been this whole time.” You readjusted yourself, tilting your head back so you could try to pick out the features of his face. “I never stopped seeing you. You have been getting through this like only you can.”
If not for the endorphins still keeping you so elevated, you may have found a way to make a self-deprecating joke out of his statement. But you felt no urge to disagree with him, not even in a joking fashion.
You moved your hands up to his cheeks. “Thank you. I didn’t know that I could still feel so good. Thank you. I love you, I-” You silenced yourself by kissing him. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He responded, giving you another kiss.
“I’m so happy we did this.” You said, starting to twirl some of his hair around your finger. “Not just ‘cause I got off, I also just feel so close to you. I guess I had put a wall up around all of that.”
“Thank you for taking it down. I like being close to you.” He said.
“Do you wanna get closer?” You asked.
“I thought I already was… what do you mean?” He asked.
The first part of your response was to kiss him, sliding your tongue against his lips this time. “Get a condom and get on top of me, amore.”
He moved, an instant kind of perking up in his body without actually sitting up and going for the item. “Are you sure- really- do you- are you feeling up to that?”
“Uh-huh. My sexy, amazing boyfriend, I love feeling so connected to you and I wanna keep it going.” You said. “I don’t know if coming twice is actually a possibility for me- once was a fuckin’ miracle. But I wanna feel you, I just want you so much. And maybe I’ll regret it tomorrow when I’m exhausted at therapy, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.”
“I want you too.” He said, rushing to give you another kiss.
Then he was sitting up, seemingly having decided there wasn’t any more time to waste. You heard one of the bedside drawers sliding open and you reached between your legs, securing your fingers around the base of the inactive toy. You had stopped feeling any reactions to it and you extracted it without fanfare. You placed the wet object aside, as far as you could reach your arm out, knowing he would get it back to its rightful spot.
It wasn’t long before he was back to lying down with you, he slid an arm beneath your body, immediately pulling you into an embrace. He kissed you deeply and you felt him starting to ease his body on top of you.
“I love you.” You whispered, voicing the dominant thought in your head, it was uninhibited by any insecurities.
“I love you too.” He said. “And we can stop whenever. You won’t disappoint me if you change your mind, so don’t even worry about that, okay?”
“Okay.” You said.
You didn’t hesitate to kiss him more as he settled into his position on top of you. There was so much of his body pressed to yours and you savoured all of it, simultaneously craving more. You regretted time not spent like this.
Your tongue glided into his mouth as you ran your hands up-and-down his back. He started to writhe against you, gentle movements that told you he was doing some savouring of his own.
One of his hands moved between your bodies, making some adjustments below your waistline, which you couldn’t fully keep track of.
But you felt when he got to his goal, the head of his cock easing your pussy open. He gave you time to adjust to this beginning of penetration, rather than aiming for depth at once.
His hand remained around his shaft as he resumed his writhing on you. You enjoyed having him use your body to make himself feel good and you started to drag your fingernails along his back, wanting to give him even more sensations to drive him wild.
He settled into something of a rhythm and you could notice the purposeful pumping of his hips. You recognised this as the start of his energy, not yet giving you everything that he had. The gradual increase of movement led to him slipping further into your cunt, your sensitive walls noticing how his tip kept stroking deeper.
“Is that o-...?”
You immediately interrupted him. “It’s so good, don’t you dare stop.”
He chuckled a little. “I won’t. I’ve missed being inside of you, you just feel so incredible.”
You kissed him as the reactions within you got bigger again. Your cunt walls were already fluttering as more of your body was feeling the effects of this desire. Your heart raced and you locked into the anticipation of things only getting better from here.
A smoothness had come into his movements now, he knew what to do. You encouraged this by taking your hands down to his ass again, a cheek in each hand as you guided him into you again-and-again. The conclusions of his thrusts gained more strength, giving you the feeling of little quakes at your core.
You wanted to take the energy further. You tensed your back and took a stab at lifting your ass. It took a lot of effort but you got your hips pushed into his, granting you the reward of feeling his dick deeper. He whined when you broke the kiss, needing a deep breath as you attempted another pump of your hips.
Instead of you matching his established rhythm, he slowed himself down for you. As you thrusted with each other, you felt hints of friction coming from the meeting of your hips. You hoped that this was creating something more substantial for him because it was very limited for you, a sensation you seemingly couldn’t fully recapture. The main thing that you were feeling was a burning in your muscles, an insistence that this effort not go too far.
“I’m sorry, I can’t go any faster.” You said.
“Sorry, what are you talkin’ about? You don’t have to- I was having a great time before you started thrusting me back.” He said over the noise of your heavy panting. “If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it.”
You didn’t stop, not yet. “But then it’s just you doing all of the work.”
“Work?” He repeated.
“Yeah, it’s like guilt or something that I’m not doing enough.” You said.
“Oh, principessa…” He sighed and he pulled back from you a little, pausing any current motion. “I’m gonna need you to shut up, because you are talking complete nonsense right now.” You slumped back to the mattress, silent. “There’s no work, let me take care of you. You just being here with me is all I need.”
He kept his hips elevated but he leaned down to kiss you. “No guilt, I only want you feeling good things, okay?” You nodded your head. “Feel good with me.”
“Okay.” You said in the second before his lips captured yours. “Yes, yes.”
Steadily he started to drive his hips down again, filling more of his length into you. You kept kissing him as you resettled yourself on the mattress, getting as comfortable as you could manage.
He moved as he needed, between your parted thighs he struck down, plunging deeper into you. The burning in your muscles quickly became less noticeable and important to you. Your blood rushed to different areas, taking your focus with it. He reclaimed his ideal rhythm, his thrusts coming in consistently, the speed making it so that you couldn’t get caught in any trains of thought.
You draped your arms around his neck, kissing him through the rising reactions. Your inner-walls were so responsive to the massaging of his cock, constantly fluttering with excitement and sporadically squeezing his shaft.
You were certain that he was no longer holding back and your body was rocked by the power. The end of each thrust landed perfectly, encouraging more shaking at your core. And before there was a chance for you to recover from its effects, another one was coming in to amaze you.
His speedy movements were getting you up to that sublime edge again. You could feel the build-up and you recognised what it was all leading to.
You couldn’t keep yourself from moaning, your mouth falling slack as you parted from him. “More magic.”
He was noisily gasping for air as his body remained so active on yours. “What?”
“I think- fuck, I could come again.” You admitted, those shakes at your core had become full-blown earthquakes.
“Really?”
You set your fingernails against his shoulders. “Yes, it’s- it feels like it, Damiano.”
“Me too.” He told you with a whimper. “I’ve been getting close, but holding it- trying to hold it back so I didn’t stop you from finishing.”
This brought a new wave of euphoria. “Let’s come together. Come with me, amore.”
“Yes.” His strained voice was almost drowned out by the terrific, continuous slapping sounds of his hips landing on yours. “Yes, yes.”
The tension gripped your entire body, holding you tight as you were reduced to nothing more than a collection of sensitivities. You squirmed as he jolted you higher towards the peak.
Then the relief rushed you, taking you beyond anything else. Your triumph was matched by the noises of his moans, making it clear that he was in a similar state. Everything became still as you were both consumed by your orgasms.
You gradually began to come back to reality to the feeling of him kissing all over your left cheek. This was the side that was closest to him now that he was lying next to you. One of his arms remained around you, resting beneath your body.
In the darkness, you smiled. This pleasure had been a revelation and its effects wore off little-by-little. It felt like your body was glowing, radiating relief in almost every pore.
“Holy fuck.” You gasped. “I can’t believe how amazing that was.”
“It was perfect for me, too.” He said, sounding just as content as you felt. “It was better than I had imagined, And if it wasn’t so clear: I did a lot of imagining.”
You grabbed his hand with yours. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
“Hey, no more sorries. It happened when you were ready for it, and that’s the only way I would want it to happen.” He said.
“I love you so much.” You said, feeling like three words weren’t enough to fully convey the big things inside you.
But he accepted it happily, replying with enthusiastic speed. “I love you too. Hey, please don’t tell your PT that I’m the reason you’re so exhausted in your session, because those guys could seriously beat me up if they thought I was impeding your recovery- a misuse of your energy or something.”
You chuckled. “Okay, I won't get you in trouble.” But you weren't certain that the therapist wouldn't notice the change in your mood because you were going to sleep feeling differently to how you had felt on any night before. There wasn't a hint of defeat in you, surely this would carry through to tomorrow, maybe further through your recovery.
𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 you ask dean to do your laundry and he finds his new favorite hobby
cw 𖥔 pervy!dean panty kink masturbation lace kink
【 ✉️ smut 𝓂𝖽𝗇𝗂 】
⠀﹒୨𝑒 for a hunter, you had the largest collection of lacey bras and underwear. they all matched, had pretty designs, fit perfectly; dean knew. obviously, he’d seen your underwear before, you were on the road together.
usually though, laundry was your job once you got to motels. you knew how to do it best. but this time, you’d ask dean to do it while you followed a lead that was easiest for you rather than a man. he hadn’t thought much of it when he agreed, but boy, was he rethinking it now.
“fuck?” he dangled a pretty lilac purple thong on his thumb, staring at the thing like it was the strangest object he’d ever seen. but when he held it up right, his back straightened. it was so… pretty. placing it on the bed next to him and reaching down into the basket. dean pulls out pair after pair, almost in a trance.
they were such delicate little things, too perfect. each one was prettier than the next, all spread out around his lap after he finished folding the rest of your clothes. he was just stuck on these and the fact that they were yours.
dean picks up the pretty pink pair, maybe one of the skimpiest ones. letting out a shaky sigh, he stares at it in his hands. and with the way his cock twitched and strained against the confinement of his jeans? he knew he was in trouble. desire and lust crept up his neck all too fast, taking over his thoughts.
pictures of you flashed in his mind; fully clothed, naked, with these on. dean took a deep breath, tongue wetting his dry lips as he closed his eyes and imagined this baby pink against the color of your skin. he imagined the way they’d fit on you, hug your hips just right.
before dean knew it, his hand was on his crotch, palming himself slowly. “fuck me..” he grunts, giving into his newfound desire.
quickly getting up, dean grabs another little black pair, clutching it with the pink one in his fist as he tosses the rest into the basket of your clothes. he nearly trips over himself as he stumbles into the small bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. he leans against it, breathing deep as his other hand shakily unbuttons and unzips his jeans. ‘this isn’t bad, right? they’re clean.’ he’d convince himself, freeing his now throbbing length from his boxers.
his thick girth was swollen with a deep blushy head, leaky with pre already. god, he was so turned on. and he could only pray that you or sam weren’t on your way home right now, he’d be fucked.
dean collects the precum from his sticky tip, smearing it up and down his cock with his spit covered palm. “oh my..” he groans, tightening his grip. he peaks an eye open, reaching for the lace on the counter before wrapping it around his veiny shaft, stroking himself with it. “fuckfuckfuck—”
a knot ties in his stomach as the need for pleasure overtakes any sense of wrong from right. the rough fabric of the lacey panties mixed with the thought of you was more than enough for him.
images of you flash behind his eyelids again, what you’d say, how you’d sound, how you’d feel. “god, you’d feel so fucking perfect, sweetheart.” he moans, stickier sounds emerging. “i need you.. need you so bad.” his hand jerked himself faster, on the verge of release. “i can’t—” the lace provided just the right amount of friction against him, resulting in his hips fucking into his hand wildly. the desire for you was so strong, more than what the lace could provide, but it sufficed.
with one last squeezing stroke, dean’s release hit him like a damn truck, sending him hunching over the bathroom counter as his seed shot out in quick, warm spurts. it got on the cabinets, his thighs, and your panties still tightly wrapped around him. his abdomen flexes as he cums, the white-hot pleasure damn near making him see stars. “aaah… oh, fuck-fucking hell…” he moaned, panting as a thin layer of sweat beaded on his forehead.
reality slowly set in, but dean couldn’t find it in him to feel guilty. not now. he stayed like that for a while, just breathing into the air as he lets go of his softening cock. “m’so screwed…” he stares down at the one pristine and clean pink lace, now stained and ruined with his cum. he hated to admit the sight made his pulse jump again.
dean quickly washed up, rinsing the evidence off your panties and hiding that single pair with his stuff. maybe you wouldn’t notice. he hoped you wouldn’t notice. dean also hoped you would ask him to do the laundry more often without questions of why your underwear started disappearing.
— stalker!bang chan x fem!reader in which, chan had this obsession over you for the past 6 months. knows everything about you, your schedule, your habbits, your mannerism, even the smallest thing about you like your usual order of morning coffee. his overflowing affection and love towards you ends him at where he became insane and had you stalked. but there's one small secret he doesn't know about you, and had it find out.
content warning: this piece contains a lot problematic behavior from chan including violence and psychopatic tendencies, please note that i do not associate bang chan in any of this personalities and that i only wrote this for entertainment consumption only. please separate fiction from reality. includes detailed scenes of rough sex, manhandling, stalking, spitting, hair pulling, slight violence, con-sensual sex, slapping, slight bdsm that includes shibari and sensory play that might be not suitable for some readers. please proceed with cautions. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
a/n: Hi! I have started writing this one as soon as I have posted the update for prim and proper. This is a one ahot fiction tha will be divided into two separate point of views. First will be Chan's POV and second will be reader's POV, so stay tuned for the second version and hoping this won't confuse anyone! < 3
HIS POV
YOUR POV
CONCLUSION
a/n: finally posting this after so many years /jj putting this first before the actual fic < 3 for easier access. to those part of the taglist, wait for the second mention for the first part of the fic! MWAAA!
(for those who still wanna be a part of the taglist, feel free to comment down < 3. some y'all can't be tagged properly. please make sure your settings for tags and mentions are open.)
