[thebriarbunny]

𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚔𝚒 🇨🇦 ⋆｡˚ 𑣲𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚍𝚞𝚕𝚝 +𝟷𝟾 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚗𝚒 𑣲𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜

ʕ.•ﻌ•.ʔ ⟡ ݁ ꒰ 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 | 𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚢 ꒱ ⸝⸝ .ᐟ . {{𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜-𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚍}}

𝓡𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚜 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝓣𝚊𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ 𝓐𝚜𝚔 𝚋𝚘𝚡 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ {{𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗}}

rules <- 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝑒𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓈𝓀

𑣲𝙶𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚖⁴⁴ 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𑣲𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝙳𝚒 𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚜⁶⁶ 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

𑣲𝙾𝚏𝚏 𝙲𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚞𝚜 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝒯𝓊𝒸𝓀𝑒𝓇, 𝐿𝑜𝑔𝒶𝓃, 𝑀𝒶𝓍𝓌𝑒𝓁𝓁 + 𝒟𝒶𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉

thebriarbunny © 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔

[thebriarbunny]

I followed you from OuterBanks and OffCampus is so perfect for you I’m the biggest BarDown fan and you got me into hockey so thank you

Awwww 💕 you’re so sweet bby thank you!! I miss Bar Down 🥹

I love it here too. I’m so curious, who’s your team??

[thebriarbunny]

hi for some reason your work dosent show up in the tags for me 💔

Oh no!!! I logged out and did a search on tumblr and I’m seeing my work come up ☹️ my garrett and deans fics are kind of buried in the feed but my Logan and Beau drops are closer to the top. It could be your filters or settings maybe.

If you want to follow my update account I only post my stories on there, no yapping if you want to follow that @thebriarbunny-updates

[thebriarbunny]

𑣲𝓞𝓯𝓯 𝓒𝓪𝓶𝓹𝓾𝓼 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝙳𝚒 𝙻𝚊𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚜 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

𝙶𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝 𝙶𝚛𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

𝒻𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻 ꩜ 𝓈𝓂𝓊𝓉 𝜗𝜚 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉 ᢉ𐭩

𑣲𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓛𝓸𝓰𝓪𝓷²²

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓉 All Tangled Up (8/10) 𝜗𝜚

𑣲𝓑𝓮𝓪𝓾 𝓜𝓪𝔁𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵 ¹²

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 No. 2 (8/13) 𝜗𝜚

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝒹𝒶𝓎𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂 No. 1 (8/10) 𝜗𝜚

𑣲𝓗𝓾𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓓𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓹𝓸𝓻𝓽⁵⁵

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑒𝓉

𑣲𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷 𝓣𝓾𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓻⁴⁶

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓎𝑒𝓉

thebriarbunny ©️ do not copy my work

dividers honeyluvsw + pixopix

[thebriarbunny]

𑣲 𝓜𝔂 recent drops

ᯓ★ say please, playboy (8/15/2026) d. di laurentis

ᯓ★ beau daydream #2: oral (8/6/2026) b. maxwell

ᯓ★ beau daydream #1: fingering (8/11/2026) b. maxwell

ᯓ★ miss possessive (8/9/2026) d. di laurentis

ᯓ★ all tangled up (8/8/2026) j. logan

ᯓ★ max capacity: five 8/5/2026) g. graham

ᯓ★ there’s nowhere else he goes (7/26/2026) d. di laurentis

ᯓ★ strip studying (7/14/2026) g.graham

ᯓ★ i tutor you. you teach me. 7/9/2026) g. graham

ᯓ★ sweet treats (7/5/2026) g. graham

thebriarbunny ©️ do not copy my work

dividers honeyluvsw + pixopix

[thebriarbunny]

omgeeeee

[thebriarbunny]

𝓢𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮, 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓫𝓸𝔂

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒟𝒾 𝐿𝒶𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓈⁶⁶ 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

2.1K words ⌯⌲ inspired by this ask

c/w ᝰ.ᐟ mean!dean x mean!reader, bathroom sex, biting, fish hooking reader, reader slaps dean, jealous + possessive!dean, rough oral, brief unprotected p in v, degradation + name calling, pet names (baby + no y/n) + “how to not let her know you’re jealous in ten steps or less—a success story” ᢉ𐭩⋆.˚

“Party’s over,” Dean’s voice cuts through the commotion, the music coming to a halt, a plastic cup falling and sloshing to the floor comedically as everyone looks toward the six-foot-two blond with an evident chip on his shoulder, staring back at them. “You don’t live here, you’re gone.”

Logan looks at Garrett from across the kitchen, trying not to laugh because yes, they know exactly what crawled up Dean’s ass—your hand in Peyton’s as you headed up to the second floor of the hockey house five minutes ago.

Now, Dean’s heartbreak and inability to cope with the fact that you were over the casual bullshit and looking for someone new were everyone else’s problem.

“Bye. Leave,” he grunts—shooing an underclassman before waving a group of frat guys and girls toward the front door as he heads toward the steps.

Beau looks up at Dean from his place on the couch with his beer halfway to his lips, his brow raised as he glances past the girl on his lap. “So that’s the number one running back in the M.A.C. Maybe think this through—”

“Got it,” Dean answers him shortly with a smile on his lips. “That’s why I’m not gonna fuckin’ kill him—”

“Calm down.”

“I’m calm,” Dean barks down the stairs, standing on the landing as he looks down at him. “Does it look like I give a shit?”

“Greatly.” Beau’s voice breaks, his eyebrows softening as he holds back a nervous laugh. Dean rolls his eyes and pushes his sleeves higher on his forearms, his heavy feet pounding across the floorboards.

“Party’s over,” he shouts, banging his fist against Garrett’s door, knowing there isn’t a soul behind it but keeping up the act like he doesn’t know exactly where he’s going or who he’s looking for.

He grabs the handle of the shitty bathroom door, shoulder checking it rough enough to pop the little brass lock open with barely any effort at all.

Your eyes go wide in the dark as you look back at him from your place on the bathroom counter, your lips pulling away from Peyton’s as he splits your thighs.

The light from behind Dean sends his shadow across the floor, his shoulders rising and falling with every rough breath he takes.

“Get the fuck out.”

Your heart lurches as those four words leave his lips, making your stomach fall and your hands shake with adrenaline.

“Oh, sorry, buddy.” Peyton smiles, not quite gauging the temperature in the room or realizing that Dean’s restraint is hanging by a thread. He catches on fast enough, though, the smile slipping from his face as he mutters uneasily, “Is the party over? I—”

“Get… the fuck… out,” Dean repeats, slower and meaner, whatever buddy-buddy relationship they’d built from passing each other in the gym going out the window and fucking fast.

Peyton goes to help you off the counter, the confusion painted all over his face. “Don’t.” Dean’s hand shoots out, grabbing Peyton’s and shoving it away before he can reach you.

His eyes stay locked on yours as you slip off the counter by yourself, heels clicking across the floor as you scoff, but he reaches out for you.

“What the fuck, man?” Peyton calls back when he sees Dean stop you and you yank your arm away. Dean turns toward him before he can say another word, chest to chest, his eyes tight and his jaw locked.

“Get the fuck out of my house—she’s not comin’ with you.” The words come out flat and final as you blow out a frustrated breath. Peyton’s head swerves to look past him, back at you, but you wave him away with a sigh.

“Just go, Peyton. I’ll—I’ll call you later,” you mumble.

Dean grabs Peyton’s shirt, shoving him through the door before slamming it shut hard enough for the hinges to rattle on the frame. Your heart sinks, the corners of your lips trembling as you try not to smirk.

Because maybe this is exactly what you wanted to happen.

Your thumb flicks along the screen of your phone, opening the Uber app as Dean looks down at you, and he laughs cruelly, reaching out to hook one hand around your waist, the other fisting your hair before you can get another word out.

He kisses you deep and rough, pulling you closer, stealing the breath out of your chest. You kiss him back just as hard, fingers curling into the front of his shirt until you pull away first, leaving him chasing your mouth before he finds it.

Crack. Your hand slaps him so fast and sharp his head snaps to the side. Dean’s tongue presses against his cheek because he may have liked that a little more than he thought he would—and if he were in your good graces he’d probably beg you to do it again.

Dean’s hand rubs across his sharp jaw as he chuckles, red blooming on his cheek from the slap.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, tugging it out far enough to look down. He blows out a little whistle, letting a smile tug at his lips. “That was a close one—almost came.”

“Fuck you, Dean.” You try to walk past him, but he catches you, pulling you to his lips, kissing you so hard your back bends, his biceps flexing where your nails dig into his arms.

“You done yet?” he asks against your lips, his words humming against your mouth.

“Not really,” you whisper, and he huffs out a tight breath.

“Can’t believe you fuckin’ kissed him.”

“Can’t believe you wasted my fucking time,” you challenge him, his hold tightening on your hair, his grip strong on your body. “Again.”

“This is what you wanted, huh? My attention—you fuckin’ got it.”

“You think this was about getting your attention?” You smile against his lips, giggling with your soft exhale. “Baby, look at you.”

“The fuck are you hanging out with Peyton for anyways?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, thinking it through just enough to piss him off some more. “Kinda into Briar football these days.”

He doesn’t even have a response to that, his jaw ticking as he swallows hard. You lick your lips slowly, taunting him.

“Jealousy looks good on you, Dean. Honesty would look even better.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” He steps into you, pressing you back until your back bumps the sink.

“You sure seem to care a lot for someone who doesn’t give a shit about me,” you whisper.

“Never said that,” he murmurs.

“Figured that part out on my own,” you whisper.

“Just get on your fuckin’ knees,” he mutters as he unbuckles his belt in one swift movement. Because you’re wrong—he cares way more than he wanted to, and now he’s in trouble.

“Say please,” you whisper.

He barks out a laugh, looking away from you as you stare up at him, but the only thing standing between him and the woman he wants is the word he fuckin’ hates.

“Say… please.” Your voice is so light and condescending he loses his train of thought.

“I’m not asking you again,” he warns, his head turning back toward you.

“Funny thing about that,” you whisper.

“Neither are you,” he mumbles. “Fuckin’ brat.”

“Holy shit, Di Laurentis,” you breathe, and he holds his breath for a moment, waiting for what you’ll say next. “You’re not as dumb as you look.”

“Oh my god. Please.” He presses the word out fast. “Fucking please, okay?”

You hold his stare for another second, making him wait, before slowly lowering yourself in front of him.

“Mouth open. Tongue out. C’mon.” He doesn’t break eye contact, his glare searing right through you. Every inch of your skin prickles with lust. Your pulse races, and still you lean in.

Dean holds himself just out of reach at first, savoring your momentary obedience, watching the way your mouth opens without hesitation, your breath held as you wait. His cock is heavy in his fist, precum beading at the tip, and he knows you want it. That’s half the point.

He slaps it against your outstretched tongue. “You’re so easy to read, you know that?” he lies as a soft moan escapes your throat.

His cock slides along your tongue as your lips wrap around him, his hand settling in your hair again, guiding you—using you.

“That’s it,” he groans, voice low and rough as his fingers tighten in your hair, dragging your head back just enough for him to watch your lips stretch around him before bringing you forward again.

“Couldn’t just make this easy on me,” he mutters. “Losing my shit downstairs. Is that what you wanted?”

You hum around him, lashes fluttering, spit slicking your chin as he starts to thrust deeper. You sputter but you don’t stop.

His hand pushes you down until you’re throating his dick, your jaw sore, eyes stinging, but you don’t pull back.

His other hand grips the counter, knuckles white—his hips give this messy little jerk every time you take him deeper, his breath catching.

He watches you, possessiveness thick in the air between you. “Look at you,” he mutters. “Such a fuckin’ slut for me,” he hisses, breath ragged.

You can feel how close he is—the way his thighs go tight, the way his breath snags every time your tongue catches him just right.

His head tips back as he forces your mouth down one more time, burying himself so deep you gag around him, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

Dean drags you off with a rough hand, groaning as he strokes himself furiously, the head of his cock flushed an angry red as he gets so close to release he can barely speak. “Keep that mouth open for me,” he pants. “Wanna see it—”

And then he shudders, thick ropes spilling hot and messy across your tongue, your lips, your chin, dripping down your throat as you hold your position, eyes glassy and wide as the last of him pulses onto your waiting tongue.

“Look at this mess, baby,” he hums. “That’s mine. All of it. Just fuckin’ mine…”

He hauls you to your feet, his mouth crashing against yours in a wet, owning kiss. He spins you toward the mirror, still holding your hair, forcing you to look.

Dean’s big hand splays flat over your stomach, pinning you tight to the cool counter, your reflection hazy in the mirror—your hair tangled, mouth parted, eyes wet as he stands behind you.

“Can’t even fight that fucking smile,” he mutters as his hand slides down your stomach and under your skirt, pawing down your panties in one harsh pull.

You bite your lip as a grin tips at the corner of your mouth, but you shake your head no. His forehead falls to your shoulder as he pushes out a sharp breath through his nose, his fingers gliding up your pussy, feeling how wet you are.

“This for me?” he asks, his voice hoarse with want and frustration.

You keep the yes to yourself, letting him suffer instead, the look on your face a subtle reminder that you didn’t come in here with him to begin with—the thought of you and Peyton locked away in his house before he stormed in nothing short of a nightmare to him.

“You’re impossible,” he mutters against your skin.

His eyes catch yours in the mirror as his lips press to your neck, trailing down. Then he bites hard, teeth sinking into you, your fingers bracing the countertop as he pushes his cock into your wet pussy in one rough thrust.

He goes completely still, his forehead dropping against you as both hands find your lower back. The breath that leaves him is long and deep, a drawn-out sigh of relief as he feels you around him, your body under his hands, your skin against his lips as he breathes in your perfume.

“Feels so—so fucking good, baby,” he mumbles against you, so fucked-out and gentle you almost don’t catch it.

He pulls back his hips, drawing out of you slowly enough that you hear it, shoving himself back in so rough you gasp, his hand reaching out to catch you as your palms slap against the bathroom counter.

He dips his head in again, his gold chain tumbling out of his shirt, the pendant with your initial landing against your shoulder—the playboy, so tremendously down bad you can’t help the teasing laugh that bubbles from your lips.

He gives you a look like he’s annoyed—like he’s tired of your shit but the feeling’s mutual.

“Tell me what you want, Dean,” you sigh.

He rolls his eyes in frustration, and a laugh slips past your lips before his hand drifts up your neck, two fingers hooking into one corner of the mouth he just claimed.

The free corner of your lips curls into a smirk, and he blows out a breath, his eyes challenging yours before he breaks.

“Only you.”

✨🎱 tag list on my pinned post 🎲 @liss2709-blog @sushi-girl04 @judesgfirl @cdiaz18 @abbottjunior01 @obsessedwrafe @vanillaiceyhot @maialopez23 @rexit-mo @georgiastars13 @princessaaa13 @dragonvalyria @livlovesfastcars @thebitchylibra @corvusmorte @st8rkey @imperfectlyperfect78 @winchestersbgirl @glitterandviolence13 @twylas114 @miramindlesslywriting @emelia07 @maybankslover @archxve @jujuonthatbeat1357 @parker-barnes-af @aria1108 @magcon7280 @kristenm74 @dancerbailey3 @phoebesatoru @purplerainx1 @simp4f1 @at-arax-ia @lovesturni0l0s @kkkkisworld @hearts4norris @styles-sturniolo @angelnameddani @macbaetwo @tangledinmyfeelings @ethanthequeefqueen @taliescapes @grahamsbunny @party444you @primadonnasdream @gretavanhockey @buttercuppy8 @fentyqloss

[thebriarbunny]

Writing Asks + Ask Box Rules

Minor DNI +18

Please read my c/w before reading. You are responsible for your consumption.

I prefer all communication stays in my ask box

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ I will try to answer all of my asks. If I don’t answer your ask, please don’t send me hate

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ I will not respond to questions pertaining to the actors or their private lives. I prefer to talk about fictional characters only.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ I will not talk about Tumblr drama or other blogs on my page, other than in a way that is promoting their work.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ I will not write noncon, incest, dv, sa, or stepcest. If it makes me uncomfortable, I won’t write it. No hate to those that write taboo content, this is just my writing preference.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ I try to write true x reader fics without assigning race or ethnicity, so the reader can imagine themselves as the written character if they’d like. I try to be really mindful with what I write but if you ever spot something that doesn’t sit right feel free to DM me so I can fix it in the future.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Regarding different types of readers, I don’t write “animal”!readers, other writer’s OG readers, “dumb”!reader, “bimbo”!reader, or infantilization.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ All of my !readers and !characters are over 18

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ I only write fem!reader and use she/her pronouns for my reader

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Please do not send the same ask to multiple accounts—this causes unnecessary drama

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Writer is visually colorblind—if you have issues seeing anything please let me know.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ Please be kind. I don’t answer asks that come off as drama or bad faith. If you feel the need to send hate just block me instead. I won’t post it. I’ll report and block as needed.

[abbottjunior01]

TAG GAME; tagged by @maverist ,thank you lovely!

• hair colour: dyed black with my natural brown peeking out

• favourite colour: light pink/grey/fall colors

• favourite drink: water/dr.pepper/bloom

• one thing you love about yourself: my stubborn personality

• if u could be any animal, what would you be? Golden retriever or Russian Blue

• dream place 2 visit: UK/LA/JAPAN

• what’s one thing ur looking forward to right now? Going to see Odyssey or Spiderman whatever floats my boat after reading Odyssey

• biggest dream: to travel the world

• song that’s permanently on ur repeat: the neighborhood songs i can't choose

tags: @honeyroots , @maverist , @lotties-ashwagandha , @sluvaffair ,@anyone else that i forgot :(

[sluvaffair]

thank you for the tag @abbottjunior01 😚

⭐︎ hair colour: i am a fake natural blonde

⭐︎ favourite colour: sometimes this kind of blue or sometimes this kind of green.

⭐︎ favourite drink: water!! tea (especially green)

⭐︎ one thing you love about yourself: i'll circle back!

⭐︎ if u could be any animal, what would you be?: i'd love to be any kind of cat, big or small. just not hairless.

⭐︎ dream place 2 visit: ngl, i think i've visited all of my dream places already so idk?? maybe not a dream place but i'd love to go to barbados.

⭐︎ what’s one thing ur looking forward to right now?: going tf to sleep cause i'm tiredddd. or the heatwave in the uk finally being over it's like being in satan's butthole fr

⭐︎ biggest dream: be comfortable enough financially that i can work part time in a bookstore but still be able to afford to live

⭐︎ song that’s permanently on ur repeat: candy by doja cat. honestly obsessedddd.

TAGGING (no pressure obvs): @bucksplum @drewsprettygirl @p1stach-io + anyone else who enjoys doing these cause i never know who would be open for a tag!! so let me know 🫶🏽

[bucksplum]

fun! fun! thanks for the tag @sluvaffair ! !

𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫. . . !! i dyed my naturally dark brown hair red—think poison ivy from harley quinn animated series

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐫. . . !! something like dark velvet red or deep forest green

𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤. . . !! cold, cold, freezing water😋

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. . . !! honestly? i know how to make an attrective sim if i want to—just to torture them....iykyk

𝐢𝐟 𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞?. . . !! imma be cliche and say a dragon🙂‍↕️

𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 2 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭. . . !! anywhere in europe—specifically edinburgh!!

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰?. . . !! writing more shit like pleeeease

𝐛𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦. . . !! to learn as many hobbies as possible like figure skating, more pottery, more writing, reading, and learning more languages (im broke)

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐭. . . !! "strangers" by ethel cain—the vocals and the backing vocals and the engineering ugh

no pressure tags! @ethxreallie , @kryptidfiles , @vividxpages and anybody else who wants to!

[ethxreallie]

this is lovely <3 thank you v much for the tag @bucksplum!

hair color : black that turns kinda brown under the sun 🙂‍↕️

favorite color : brown (bordering on beige) and burgundy!

favorite drink : water! i love love love water 🫶🏼 also anything with passionfruit and/or peach

one thing you love about yourself : i know what my boundaries are

if you could be any animal, what would you be? : a feline. any type of feline. and also a german shepherd.

dream place(s) to visit : japan and nyc!!!!! also italy (thanks to seventeen’s nana tour lmao)

what’s one thing you’re looking forward to right now? : uni (classes were delayed for a week due to the typhoon)

biggest dream : to become a child psychologist / behavior analyst 🤍

song that’s permanently on your repeat : autumn leaves by bts!!!!! i need it injected into my bloodstream i’m so serious

no pressure tags : @dedpoolz @thebriarbunny / @rafesteddy + anyone who wants to join in!

[thebriarbunny]

Thank you for the tag @ethxreallie 💕🤭🫶🏽✨

hair color : dark brown/black

favorite color : #00205B (leafs blue + also one of the colors I can see ☺️)

favorite drink : hot lattes (oat milk, salted carmel + extra shot)

one thing you love about yourself : my ability to romanticize literally any of my little niche interests

if you could be any animal, what would you be? : a little dog

dream place(s) to visit : skopelos, greece

what’s one thing you’re looking forward to right now? : running again 😭

biggest dream : to visit ever nhl arena in canada + the states

song that’s permanently on your repeat : you stole the show + petal

no pressure tags : @rafesthroatbaby @kooksandpearls @sluvaffair @dilaurentisprincess @st8rkey @hockeygirlyyyy @babydollrafe

[thebriarbunny]

𝓢𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮, 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓫𝓸𝔂

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒟𝒾 𝐿𝒶𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓈⁶⁶ 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

2.1K words ⌯⌲ inspired by this ask

c/w ᝰ.ᐟ mean!dean x mean!reader, bathroom sex, biting, fish hooking reader, reader slaps dean, jealous + possessive!dean, rough oral, brief unprotected p in v, degradation + name calling, pet names (baby + no y/n) + “how to not let her know you’re jealous in ten steps or less—a success story” ᢉ𐭩⋆.˚

“Party’s over,” Dean’s voice cuts through the commotion, the music coming to a halt, a plastic cup falling and sloshing to the floor comedically as everyone looks toward the six-foot-two blond with an evident chip on his shoulder, staring back at them. “You don’t live here, you’re gone.”

Logan looks at Garrett from across the kitchen, trying not to laugh because yes, they know exactly what crawled up Dean’s ass—your hand in Peyton’s as you headed up to the second floor of the hockey house five minutes ago.

Now, Dean’s heartbreak and inability to cope with the fact that you were over the casual bullshit and looking for someone new were everyone else’s problem.

“Bye. Leave,” he grunts—shooing an underclassman before waving a group of frat guys and girls toward the front door as he heads toward the steps.

Beau looks up at Dean from his place on the couch with his beer halfway to his lips, his brow raised as he glances past the girl on his lap. “So that’s the number one running back in the M.A.C. Maybe think this through—”

“Got it,” Dean answers him shortly with a smile on his lips. “That’s why I’m not gonna fuckin’ kill him—”

“Calm down.”

“I’m calm,” Dean barks down the stairs, standing on the landing as he looks down at him. “Does it look like I give a shit?”

“Greatly.” Beau’s voice breaks, his eyebrows softening as he holds back a nervous laugh. Dean rolls his eyes and pushes his sleeves higher on his forearms, his heavy feet pounding across the floorboards.

“Party’s over,” he shouts, banging his fist against Garrett’s door, knowing there isn’t a soul behind it but keeping up the act like he doesn’t know exactly where he’s going or who he’s looking for.

He grabs the handle of the shitty bathroom door, shoulder checking it rough enough to pop the little brass lock open with barely any effort at all.

Your eyes go wide in the dark as you look back at him from your place on the bathroom counter, your lips pulling away from Peyton’s as he splits your thighs.

The light from behind Dean sends his shadow across the floor, his shoulders rising and falling with every rough breath he takes.

“Get the fuck out.”

Your heart lurches as those four words leave his lips, making your stomach fall and your hands shake with adrenaline.

“Oh, sorry, buddy.” Peyton smiles, not quite gauging the temperature in the room or realizing that Dean’s restraint is hanging by a thread. He catches on fast enough, though, the smile slipping from his face as he mutters uneasily, “Is the party over? I—”

“Get… the fuck… out,” Dean repeats, slower and meaner, whatever buddy-buddy relationship they’d built from passing each other in the gym going out the window and fucking fast.

Peyton goes to help you off the counter, the confusion painted all over his face. “Don’t.” Dean’s hand shoots out, grabbing Peyton’s and shoving it away before he can reach you.

His eyes stay locked on yours as you slip off the counter by yourself, heels clicking across the floor as you scoff, but he reaches out for you.

“What the fuck, man?” Peyton calls back when he sees Dean stop you and you yank your arm away. Dean turns toward him before he can say another word, chest to chest, his eyes tight and his jaw locked.

“Get the fuck out of my house—she’s not comin’ with you.” The words come out flat and final as you blow out a frustrated breath. Peyton’s head swerves to look past him, back at you, but you wave him away with a sigh.

“Just go, Peyton. I’ll—I’ll call you later,” you mumble.

Dean grabs Peyton’s shirt, shoving him through the door before slamming it shut hard enough for the hinges to rattle on the frame. Your heart sinks, the corners of your lips trembling as you try not to smirk.

Because maybe this is exactly what you wanted to happen.

Your thumb flicks along the screen of your phone, opening the Uber app as Dean looks down at you, and he laughs cruelly, reaching out to hook one hand around your waist, the other fisting your hair before you can get another word out.

He kisses you deep and rough, pulling you closer, stealing the breath out of your chest. You kiss him back just as hard, fingers curling into the front of his shirt until you pull away first, leaving him chasing your mouth before he finds it.

Crack. Your hand slaps him so fast and sharp his head snaps to the side. Dean’s tongue presses against his cheek because he may have liked that a little more than he thought he would—and if he were in your good graces he’d probably beg you to do it again.

Dean’s hand rubs across his sharp jaw as he chuckles, red blooming on his cheek from the slap.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, tugging it out far enough to look down. He blows out a little whistle, letting a smile tug at his lips. “That was a close one—almost came.”

“Fuck you, Dean.” You try to walk past him, but he catches you, pulling you to his lips, kissing you so hard your back bends, his biceps flexing where your nails dig into his arms.

“You done yet?” he asks against your lips, his words humming against your mouth.

“Not really,” you whisper, and he huffs out a tight breath.

“Can’t believe you fuckin’ kissed him.”

“Can’t believe you wasted my fucking time,” you challenge him, his hold tightening on your hair, his grip strong on your body. “Again.”

“This is what you wanted, huh? My attention—you fuckin’ got it.”

“You think this was about getting your attention?” You smile against his lips, giggling with your soft exhale. “Baby, look at you.”

“The fuck are you hanging out with Peyton for anyways?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, thinking it through just enough to piss him off some more. “Kinda into Briar football these days.”

He doesn’t even have a response to that, his jaw ticking as he swallows hard. You lick your lips slowly, taunting him.

“Jealousy looks good on you, Dean. Honesty would look even better.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” He steps into you, pressing you back until your back bumps the sink.

“You sure seem to care a lot for someone who doesn’t give a shit about me,” you whisper.

“Never said that,” he murmurs.

“Figured that part out on my own,” you whisper.

“Just get on your fuckin’ knees,” he mutters as he unbuckles his belt in one swift movement. Because you’re wrong—he cares way more than he wanted to, and now he’s in trouble.

“Say please,” you whisper.

He barks out a laugh, looking away from you as you stare up at him, but the only thing standing between him and the woman he wants is the word he fuckin’ hates.

“Say… please.” Your voice is so light and condescending he loses his train of thought.

“I’m not asking you again,” he warns, his head turning back toward you.

“Funny thing about that,” you whisper.

“Neither are you,” he mumbles. “Fuckin’ brat.”

“Holy shit, Di Laurentis,” you breathe, and he holds his breath for a moment, waiting for what you’ll say next. “You’re not as dumb as you look.”

“Oh my god. Please.” He presses the word out fast. “Fucking please, okay?”

You hold his stare for another second, making him wait, before slowly lowering yourself in front of him.

“Mouth open. Tongue out. C’mon.” He doesn’t break eye contact, his glare searing right through you. Every inch of your skin prickles with lust. Your pulse races, and still you lean in.

Dean holds himself just out of reach at first, savoring your momentary obedience, watching the way your mouth opens without hesitation, your breath held as you wait. His cock is heavy in his fist, precum beading at the tip, and he knows you want it. That’s half the point.

He slaps it against your outstretched tongue. “You’re so easy to read, you know that?” he lies as a soft moan escapes your throat.

His cock slides along your tongue as your lips wrap around him, his hand settling in your hair again, guiding you—using you.

“That’s it,” he groans, voice low and rough as his fingers tighten in your hair, dragging your head back just enough for him to watch your lips stretch around him before bringing you forward again.

“Couldn’t just make this easy on me,” he mutters. “Losing my shit downstairs. Is that what you wanted?”

You hum around him, lashes fluttering, spit slicking your chin as he starts to thrust deeper. You sputter but you don’t stop.

His hand pushes you down until you’re throating his dick, your jaw sore, eyes stinging, but you don’t pull back.

His other hand grips the counter, knuckles white—his hips give this messy little jerk every time you take him deeper, his breath catching.

He watches you, possessiveness thick in the air between you. “Look at you,” he mutters. “Such a fuckin’ slut for me,” he hisses, breath ragged.

You can feel how close he is—the way his thighs go tight, the way his breath snags every time your tongue catches him just right.

His head tips back as he forces your mouth down one more time, burying himself so deep you gag around him, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

Dean drags you off with a rough hand, groaning as he strokes himself furiously, the head of his cock flushed an angry red as he gets so close to release he can barely speak. “Keep that mouth open for me,” he pants. “Wanna see it—”

And then he shudders, thick ropes spilling hot and messy across your tongue, your lips, your chin, dripping down your throat as you hold your position, eyes glassy and wide as the last of him pulses onto your waiting tongue.

“Look at this mess, baby,” he hums. “That’s mine. All of it. Just fuckin’ mine…”

He hauls you to your feet, his mouth crashing against yours in a wet, owning kiss. He spins you toward the mirror, still holding your hair, forcing you to look.

Dean’s big hand splays flat over your stomach, pinning you tight to the cool counter, your reflection hazy in the mirror—your hair tangled, mouth parted, eyes wet as he stands behind you.

“Can’t even fight that fucking smile,” he mutters as his hand slides down your stomach and under your skirt, pawing down your panties in one harsh pull.

You bite your lip as a grin tips at the corner of your mouth, but you shake your head no. His forehead falls to your shoulder as he pushes out a sharp breath through his nose, his fingers gliding up your pussy, feeling how wet you are.

“This for me?” he asks, his voice hoarse with want and frustration.

You keep the yes to yourself, letting him suffer instead, the look on your face a subtle reminder that you didn’t come in here with him to begin with—the thought of you and Peyton locked away in his house before he stormed in nothing short of a nightmare to him.

“You’re impossible,” he mutters against your skin.

His eyes catch yours in the mirror as his lips press to your neck, trailing down. Then he bites hard, teeth sinking into you, your fingers bracing the countertop as he pushes his cock into your wet pussy in one rough thrust.

He goes completely still, his forehead dropping against you as both hands find your lower back. The breath that leaves him is long and deep, a drawn-out sigh of relief as he feels you around him, your body under his hands, your skin against his lips as he breathes in your perfume.

“Feels so—so fucking good, baby,” he mumbles against you, so fucked-out and gentle you almost don’t catch it.

He pulls back his hips, drawing out of you slowly enough that you hear it, shoving himself back in so rough you gasp, his hand reaching out to catch you as your palms slap against the bathroom counter.

He dips his head in again, his gold chain tumbling out of his shirt, the pendant with your initial landing against your shoulder—the playboy, so tremendously down bad you can’t help the teasing laugh that bubbles from your lips.

He gives you a look like he’s annoyed—like he’s tired of your shit but the feeling’s mutual.

“Tell me what you want, Dean,” you sigh.

He rolls his eyes in frustration, and a laugh slips past your lips before his hand drifts up your neck, two fingers hooking into one corner of the mouth he just claimed.

The free corner of your lips curls into a smirk, and he blows out a breath, his eyes challenging yours before he breaks.

“Only you.”

✨🎱 tag list on my pinned post 🎲 @liss2709-blog @sushi-girl04 @judesgfirl @cdiaz18 @abbottjunior01 @obsessedwrafe @vanillaiceyhot @maialopez23 @rexit-mo @georgiastars13 @princessaaa13 @dragonvalyria @livlovesfastcars @thebitchylibra @corvusmorte @st8rkey @imperfectlyperfect78 @winchestersbgirl @glitterandviolence13 @twylas114 @miramindlesslywriting @emelia07 @maybankslover @archxve @jujuonthatbeat1357 @parker-barnes-af @aria1108 @magcon7280 @kristenm74 @dancerbailey3 @phoebesatoru @purplerainx1 @simp4f1 @at-arax-ia @lovesturni0l0s @kkkkisworld @hearts4norris @styles-sturniolo @angelnameddani @macbaetwo @tangledinmyfeelings @ethanthequeefqueen @taliescapes @grahamsbunny @party444you @primadonnasdream @gretavanhockey @buttercuppy8 @fentyqloss

[thebriarbunny]

Sooooo perhaps getting put in your place by mean!dom Dean after a party? Pretty pleaseeeeeeee 😍

With love,

Anon💌

Hi lovely!! I wanted to make the reader a little mean too I hope you like it 🫶🏽🩷✨☺️ thank you for your ask

Post by @thebriarbunny · 10 images

💬 0  🔁 1  ❤️ 9 · 𝓢𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮, 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓫𝓸𝔂 𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒟𝒾 𝐿𝒶𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓈⁶⁶ 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 2.1K words ⌯⌲ inspired by this ask c/w ᝰ.ᐟ mean!dean x mean!reader, bat

[thebriarbunny]

𝓢𝓪𝔂 𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓮, 𝓟𝓵𝓪𝔂𝓫𝓸𝔂

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒟𝒾 𝐿𝒶𝓊𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓈⁶⁶ 𝓍 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

2.1K words ⌯⌲ inspired by this ask

c/w ᝰ.ᐟ mean!dean x mean!reader, bathroom sex, biting, fish hooking reader, reader slaps dean, jealous + possessive!dean, rough oral, brief unprotected p in v, degradation + name calling, pet names (baby + no y/n) + “how to not let her know you’re jealous in ten steps or less—a success story” ᢉ𐭩⋆.˚

“Party’s over,” Dean’s voice cuts through the commotion, the music coming to a halt, a plastic cup falling and sloshing to the floor comedically as everyone looks toward the six-foot-two blond with an evident chip on his shoulder, staring back at them. “You don’t live here, you’re gone.”

Logan looks at Garrett from across the kitchen, trying not to laugh because yes, they know exactly what crawled up Dean’s ass—your hand in Peyton’s as you headed up to the second floor of the hockey house five minutes ago.

Now, Dean’s heartbreak and inability to cope with the fact that you were over the casual bullshit and looking for someone new were everyone else’s problem.

“Bye. Leave,” he grunts—shooing an underclassman before waving a group of frat guys and girls toward the front door as he heads toward the steps.

Beau looks up at Dean from his place on the couch with his beer halfway to his lips, his brow raised as he glances past the girl on his lap. “So that’s the number one running back in the M.A.C. Maybe think this through—”

“Got it,” Dean answers him shortly with a smile on his lips. “That’s why I’m not gonna fuckin’ kill him—”

“Calm down.”

“I’m calm,” Dean barks down the stairs, standing on the landing as he looks down at him. “Does it look like I give a shit?”

“Greatly.” Beau’s voice breaks, his eyebrows softening as he holds back a nervous laugh. Dean rolls his eyes and pushes his sleeves higher on his forearms, his heavy feet pounding across the floorboards.

“Party’s over,” he shouts, banging his fist against Garrett’s door, knowing there isn’t a soul behind it but keeping up the act like he doesn’t know exactly where he’s going or who he’s looking for.

He grabs the handle of the shitty bathroom door, shoulder checking it rough enough to pop the little brass lock open with barely any effort at all.

Your eyes go wide in the dark as you look back at him from your place on the bathroom counter, your lips pulling away from Peyton’s as he splits your thighs.

The light from behind Dean sends his shadow across the floor, his shoulders rising and falling with every rough breath he takes.

“Get the fuck out.”

Your heart lurches as those four words leave his lips, making your stomach fall and your hands shake with adrenaline.

“Oh, sorry, buddy.” Peyton smiles, not quite gauging the temperature in the room or realizing that Dean’s restraint is hanging by a thread. He catches on fast enough, though, the smile slipping from his face as he mutters uneasily, “Is the party over? I—”

“Get… the fuck… out,” Dean repeats, slower and meaner, whatever buddy-buddy relationship they’d built from passing each other in the gym going out the window and fucking fast.

Peyton goes to help you off the counter, the confusion painted all over his face. “Don’t.” Dean’s hand shoots out, grabbing Peyton’s and shoving it away before he can reach you.

His eyes stay locked on yours as you slip off the counter by yourself, heels clicking across the floor as you scoff, but he reaches out for you.

“What the fuck, man?” Peyton calls back when he sees Dean stop you and you yank your arm away. Dean turns toward him before he can say another word, chest to chest, his eyes tight and his jaw locked.

“Get the fuck out of my house—she’s not comin’ with you.” The words come out flat and final as you blow out a frustrated breath. Peyton’s head swerves to look past him, back at you, but you wave him away with a sigh.

“Just go, Peyton. I’ll—I’ll call you later,” you mumble.

Dean grabs Peyton’s shirt, shoving him through the door before slamming it shut hard enough for the hinges to rattle on the frame. Your heart sinks, the corners of your lips trembling as you try not to smirk.

Because maybe this is exactly what you wanted to happen.

Your thumb flicks along the screen of your phone, opening the Uber app as Dean looks down at you, and he laughs cruelly, reaching out to hook one hand around your waist, the other fisting your hair before you can get another word out.

He kisses you deep and rough, pulling you closer, stealing the breath out of your chest. You kiss him back just as hard, fingers curling into the front of his shirt until you pull away first, leaving him chasing your mouth before he finds it.

Crack. Your hand slaps him so fast and sharp his head snaps to the side. Dean’s tongue presses against his cheek because he may have liked that a little more than he thought he would—and if he were in your good graces he’d probably beg you to do it again.

Dean’s hand rubs across his sharp jaw as he chuckles, red blooming on his cheek from the slap.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, tugging it out far enough to look down. He blows out a little whistle, letting a smile tug at his lips. “That was a close one—almost came.”

“Fuck you, Dean.” You try to walk past him, but he catches you, pulling you to his lips, kissing you so hard your back bends, his biceps flexing where your nails dig into his arms.

“You done yet?” he asks against your lips, his words humming against your mouth.

“Not really,” you whisper, and he huffs out a tight breath.

“Can’t believe you fuckin’ kissed him.”

“Can’t believe you wasted my fucking time,” you challenge him, his hold tightening on your hair, his grip strong on your body. “Again.”

“This is what you wanted, huh? My attention—you fuckin’ got it.”

“You think this was about getting your attention?” You smile against his lips, giggling with your soft exhale. “Baby, look at you.”

“The fuck are you hanging out with Peyton for anyways?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, thinking it through just enough to piss him off some more. “Kinda into Briar football these days.”

He doesn’t even have a response to that, his jaw ticking as he swallows hard. You lick your lips slowly, taunting him.

“Jealousy looks good on you, Dean. Honesty would look even better.”

“The fuck are you talking about?” He steps into you, pressing you back until your back bumps the sink.

“You sure seem to care a lot for someone who doesn’t give a shit about me,” you whisper.

“Never said that,” he murmurs.

“Figured that part out on my own,” you whisper.

“Just get on your fuckin’ knees,” he mutters as he unbuckles his belt in one swift movement. Because you’re wrong—he cares way more than he wanted to, and now he’s in trouble.

“Say please,” you whisper.

He barks out a laugh, looking away from you as you stare up at him, but the only thing standing between him and the woman he wants is the word he fuckin’ hates.

“Say… please.” Your voice is so light and condescending he loses his train of thought.

“I’m not asking you again,” he warns, his head turning back toward you.

“Funny thing about that,” you whisper.

“Neither are you,” he mumbles. “Fuckin’ brat.”

“Holy shit, Di Laurentis,” you breathe, and he holds his breath for a moment, waiting for what you’ll say next. “You’re not as dumb as you look.”

“Oh my god. Please.” He presses the word out fast. “Fucking please, okay?”

You hold his stare for another second, making him wait, before slowly lowering yourself in front of him.

“Mouth open. Tongue out. C’mon.” He doesn’t break eye contact, his glare searing right through you. Every inch of your skin prickles with lust. Your pulse races, and still you lean in.

Dean holds himself just out of reach at first, savoring your momentary obedience, watching the way your mouth opens without hesitation, your breath held as you wait. His cock is heavy in his fist, precum beading at the tip, and he knows you want it. That’s half the point.

He slaps it against your outstretched tongue. “You’re so easy to read, you know that?” he lies as a soft moan escapes your throat.

His cock slides along your tongue as your lips wrap around him, his hand settling in your hair again, guiding you—using you.

“That’s it,” he groans, voice low and rough as his fingers tighten in your hair, dragging your head back just enough for him to watch your lips stretch around him before bringing you forward again.

“Couldn’t just make this easy on me,” he mutters. “Losing my shit downstairs. Is that what you wanted?”

You hum around him, lashes fluttering, spit slicking your chin as he starts to thrust deeper. You sputter but you don’t stop.

His hand pushes you down until you’re throating his dick, your jaw sore, eyes stinging, but you don’t pull back.

His other hand grips the counter, knuckles white—his hips give this messy little jerk every time you take him deeper, his breath catching.

He watches you, possessiveness thick in the air between you. “Look at you,” he mutters. “Such a fuckin’ slut for me,” he hisses, breath ragged.

You can feel how close he is—the way his thighs go tight, the way his breath snags every time your tongue catches him just right.

His head tips back as he forces your mouth down one more time, burying himself so deep you gag around him, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes.

Dean drags you off with a rough hand, groaning as he strokes himself furiously, the head of his cock flushed an angry red as he gets so close to release he can barely speak. “Keep that mouth open for me,” he pants. “Wanna see it—”

And then he shudders, thick ropes spilling hot and messy across your tongue, your lips, your chin, dripping down your throat as you hold your position, eyes glassy and wide as the last of him pulses onto your waiting tongue.

“Look at this mess, baby,” he hums. “That’s mine. All of it. Just fuckin’ mine…”

He hauls you to your feet, his mouth crashing against yours in a wet, owning kiss. He spins you toward the mirror, still holding your hair, forcing you to look.

Dean’s big hand splays flat over your stomach, pinning you tight to the cool counter, your reflection hazy in the mirror—your hair tangled, mouth parted, eyes wet as he stands behind you.

“Can’t even fight that fucking smile,” he mutters as his hand slides down your stomach and under your skirt, pawing down your panties in one harsh pull.

You bite your lip as a grin tips at the corner of your mouth, but you shake your head no. His forehead falls to your shoulder as he pushes out a sharp breath through his nose, his fingers gliding up your pussy, feeling how wet you are.

“This for me?” he asks, his voice hoarse with want and frustration.

You keep the yes to yourself, letting him suffer instead, the look on your face a subtle reminder that you didn’t come in here with him to begin with—the thought of you and Peyton locked away in his house before he stormed in nothing short of a nightmare to him.

“You’re impossible,” he mutters against your skin.

His eyes catch yours in the mirror as his lips press to your neck, trailing down. Then he bites hard, teeth sinking into you, your fingers bracing the countertop as he pushes his cock into your wet pussy in one rough thrust.

He goes completely still, his forehead dropping against you as both hands find your lower back. The breath that leaves him is long and deep, a drawn-out sigh of relief as he feels you around him, your body under his hands, your skin against his lips as he breathes in your perfume.

“Feels so—so fucking good, baby,” he mumbles against you, so fucked-out and gentle you almost don’t catch it.

He pulls back his hips, drawing out of you slowly enough that you hear it, shoving himself back in so rough you gasp, his hand reaching out to catch you as your palms slap against the bathroom counter.

He dips his head in again, his gold chain tumbling out of his shirt, the pendant with your initial landing against your shoulder—the playboy, so tremendously down bad you can’t help the teasing laugh that bubbles from your lips.

He gives you a look like he’s annoyed—like he’s tired of your shit but the feeling’s mutual.

“Tell me what you want, Dean,” you sigh.

He rolls his eyes in frustration, and a laugh slips past your lips before his hand drifts up your neck, two fingers hooking into one corner of the mouth he just claimed.

The free corner of your lips curls into a smirk, and he blows out a breath, his eyes challenging yours before he breaks.

“Only you.”

✨🎱 tag list on my pinned post 🎲 @liss2709-blog @sushi-girl04 @judesgfirl @cdiaz18 @abbottjunior01 @obsessedwrafe @vanillaiceyhot @maialopez23 @rexit-mo @georgiastars13 @princessaaa13 @dragonvalyria @livlovesfastcars @thebitchylibra @corvusmorte @st8rkey @imperfectlyperfect78 @winchestersbgirl @glitterandviolence13 @twylas114 @miramindlesslywriting @emelia07 @maybankslover @archxve @jujuonthatbeat1357 @parker-barnes-af @aria1108 @magcon7280 @kristenm74 @dancerbailey3 @phoebesatoru @purplerainx1 @simp4f1 @at-arax-ia @lovesturni0l0s @kkkkisworld @hearts4norris @styles-sturniolo @angelnameddani @macbaetwo @tangledinmyfeelings @ethanthequeefqueen @taliescapes @grahamsbunny @party444you @primadonnasdream @gretavanhockey @buttercuppy8 @fentyqloss

[thebriarbunny]

I’ll miss you after I scroll 🥀

¿ʇɐɥʇ pıɐs oɥM ¿ʇɐɥʍ…pǝq ʎɯ uı ʇsǝʇuoɔ ǝʞılɐʞool ılǝɯɐƆ ʇuoɯlǝᙠ

[thebriarbunny]

This was a daydream until I started editing 🥀😂 anywhore, dropping some deanie baby di laurentis tonight if I can format it in time. Kisses!!!

[thebriarbunny]

soooo i kinda need to lowkey maybe get eaten out by beau maxwell sorta

+18 || a/n: oh babyyyy so do I!!!! 💕😛🫶🏽✨

“You’re so perfect. You know that?” Beau asks as he kisses your neck, chuckling against your warm skin, doing absolutely nothing but making your need for him worse.

“Beau, c’mon…”

“Goddamn, baby…” he mumbles as his big hand roams over your curves. “You want somethin’?” His palm squeezes your breast before he catches your bottom lip between his, sucking on it nice and slow. “Seem pretty desperate,” he taunts, letting his hand slip lower to cup your pussy and pulling another moan from your lips.

“Please…” you pout.

“Why are you so fuckin’ needy for me, huh?” he chuckles deeply, his rough thumb rubbing dangerously close to where you need him. “You gotta be fuckin’ wet—how messy are you right now?”

“You’re being mean,” you whisper breathlessly as he glides two thick fingers up your soaked slit.

“Don’t be like that,” he mumbles, his slick smile spreading across his lips before he steals another kiss. “I can feel how much you need me, pretty. You’re shit at hidin’ it.” His hand moves higher, teasing your clit with the rough pads of his fingers.

Beau hisses out a breath when you reach between you, wrapping your fingers around the base of his thick cock, stroking him slow.

“Now,” you mumble, feeling his hard cock twitch in your hand, catching some of the precum on his tip before bringing it to your lips.

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers, his voice breaking as he watches your lips close around your finger. His mouth twitches, but whatever smart-ass comment he had ready dies before it makes it past his lips.

Beau plunges two fingers into your soaked core, making your head sink back into the pillow as he presses kisses across your chest and starts fucking his hand into you.

He doesn’t stay there long—his mouth trails lower and lower down your body until your heart is pounding in anticipation.

Your legs instinctively start to draw together, but Beau catches your thighs in his hands and pushes them back against his mattress, holding you open while he looks down between them.

You gasp when he spits, the wetness sliding over your pussy before he leans closer, the warmth of his breath brushing over you.

His big biceps and thick shoulders flex from the angle of his body—his hands keeping your thighs spread while his eyes stay locked on yours from between your legs as he gives you one long, teasing lick.

“Holy shit,” you moan, and Beau barely gives you time to recover before his arms wrap around your thighs and pull you closer, burying himself between your legs.

Beau kisses your clit before sucking hard, making your fingers lace into his hair and tug at the roots, guiding him closer. He moans into you at the pull, the vibration making your eyes roll back as your hips press helplessly toward his mouth.

“Ride it, baby,” he hums, his voice barely audible over your breathing as he begs you to move your hips, so you do, grinding your pussy up into his face as he groans at the taste—his hips rutting into the mattress for relief.

“Beau, fuck,” you squeal, hips bucking off the bed when he drops one arm and pushes two thick fingers back inside you without taking his mouth away.

Your heart starts to race as the pleasure builds fast—the wet sounds of his mouth on your pussy filling the room while his fingers curl inside you.

“I’m close,” you whimper, and Beau groans against you.

“Fuckin’ cum around my tongue,” he mutters, voice deep and husky before his tongue slips lower and pushes through your entrance. His greedy fingers move up to your clit instead, rubbing so quickly that your hands slap against the mattress before fisting the sheets beneath you.

Beau’s name tears from your lips as you flutter around his tongue, your vision blurring at the edges while your ears start to ring.

You tremble against his hold when it becomes too much, but Beau only pulls you closer, tongue and fingers working you through every last second of your orgasm until hot tears slip from the corners of your eyes and disappear into his sheets.

“That’s my baby,” he mumbles, pressing teasing little kisses against your clit and watching your body jump with every touch.

“Beau…” you whimper, finally managing to look down at him.

He lifts his eyes to yours and smiles, lips glistening with your slick as he presses another kiss against your inner thigh. “Yeah, pretty?”

“Fucking kiss me.”

[bucksplum]

ehee ehee ehheeeeeeeee

[thebriarbunny]

Hehehhe

[thebriarbunny]

John sending this to sunshine!reader 😂🫶🏽💕

[thebriarbunny]

are you going to do kinktober for this acc too??

Oooooh I haven’t thought about that yet 🤭 but I do love kinktober hehe ummmm yes 💕🫶🏽 but nothing too dark like my rafe account (lol oops—I’m sure you know what I mean 🫣😂) but maybe blurbs? Costume, pumpkin patch stuff, halloween parties, mask play, darker content adjacent but still within canon etcetcetc

Thanks for your ask bby 💕