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diorchids · 5 months

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play date

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, no use of y/n, f!reader, making out, swearing, fingering, oral ( m&f receiving ), finger sucking, unprotected p in v, sub&dom!sejanus ( squint ), obsessed!sejanus, praise kink

a/n: this took too long ?? first fic on here so lmk ur thoughts

mature content ahead!

sejanus seems so innocent. his nerdy nature, eagerness to learn, the way he never hangs out after classes. “he stays to himself, a lot,” coriolanus mutters following you asking about sejanus’ personal life. his brown eyes gaze up at the unprovoked mention of his name.

standing from his desk, he waltzes over to you and coryo, “why wouldn’t i stay to myself? you expect me to trust them?” sejanus points to arachne and her groupies. you smile, making him grin after looking back at you and coryo.

dean highbottom makes himself known, clearing his throat. you crane your neck to glance over to sejanus, but his eyes are already on you.

the brief eye contact made you immediately sit back in your designated seat while highbottom asks everyone to partner up for a project, coming up with ideas for the games to come.

trudging your way through the dense population of your peers, looking for clemensia. you’d assumed corio was working with sejanus.

“looks like you’re also in need of a partner,” the tall boy towers over you, his curls bouncing as he tilts his head downward. his eyes narrow on yours, expecting a sad rejection, he squeezes his hands together.

“i guess i am, projects must not be for snow,” he’d left. long gone under the guise of a bathroom break.

sejanus clears his throat, “be mine, then, please,” his throat is jammed with saliva, his tongue gliding around the tips of his teeth. but you oblige, biting the inside of your cheek. “my parents aren't home, just in case you wanted to start there,” he clarified, making sure you knew he was talking about school.

you chuckle at his tense demeanor. “does this house have an address?” sejanus laughs, he’s less on edge, all because of you.

he gets home with the piece of paper with your number on it, brushing over it with his clammy hands. his palms instinctively rub against his clothed dick, making him whine at the pain that needed taking care of. you knew what you were doing.

making him so needy, having him practically beg for your attention. sweaty hands trail up to the phone to dial your number, he hesitates to dial the last digit.

“hello?” your voice raises goosebumps on his skin. he's silent, a lump getting caught in his throat. “sejanus? from class? is the play date ready?”

you sit up on your bed, awaiting his answer. “yeah, s’ready,” his smile could be heard through the phone.

“i’ll be there in, like, 10.” before he could answer, you hung up.

knocks on the door accompany the sounds of lucky flickerman speaking on tv. the door handle shakes after sejanus forgets to unlock it. “one second–! fuckin’ doorknob,” the door opening to his smile, eyebrows anxious and twitching.

“we can head to my room if you want,” he makes it clear he only wants to do the project, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

following him upstairs, you notice how nice his house is, putting yours to complete shame. his room has posters, quotes, and pictures of his family. “let's just start now, with brainstorming.”

his eyes flick back and forth from your face and your bra rubbing against your shirt. you draw diagrams of threats that could be implemented into the games, the only driving force is the thought of being a mentor.

your back aches from sitting in the chair for too long, the desk lamp straining both of your eyes. you rose from the desk, making sejanus slightly frown, being farther away from you.

you fall straight back onto his bed, a slight moan escaping your lips. a quiet groan leaves him, his eyebrows furrowing while looking at your pillowy lips.

he fidgets with his hands, trying so hard to not palm his cock while you’re right there, “l’me touch you — please,” he groans out, desperately. this was something guttural, something begging to leave his mouth.

his words fall slowly out it. they take you by surprise, his desperation for you, his whiny voice. his legs go into what feels like autopilot as he walks towards you, so hungry.

“i’ll be so good, so, so good,” his leg between yours, you sitting up, being met with his face. his warm breath against your cheeks makes your breath hitch.

fingers cradle your jaw as his thumb draws circles on your chin, “talk t’ me.” you nod as your eyes analyze his face, taking in every ounce of his words, “whatever you want, do whatever you want,” pulling your waist to his leg, rocking yourself against him.

your wet lips smashing into his, your mouth being searched every inch by his warm tongue. his hands travel all over you, gripping your thighs and your neck. (softly, of course.)

“knees, now, please,” his words leave a mark on your cheek. so soft and yet so demanding. but you comply while sej unbuckles his belt, licking his top lip. seeing you on your knees, so helpless, so nasty.

he pulls his cock out of his boxers, and it slaps his stomach, he’s so achingly hard and big. his pants are discarded onto the floor, you both know they won’t be needed.

sucking air in through his teeth when you prod at his red, leaking tip. head tilting to the side with desperate eyes, eyebrows furrowing when you kiss his tip, he pulls his shirt off. his dick is huge next to your face, you run your finger up a vein, making him shudder.

“mmmf — f- fuck,” he babbles while pulling your hair into his fist, bucking his hips into your warm mouth. “m’ sorry,” eyes roll to the back of his head, his lips swollen from being abused by his teeth.

his bed squeaks as he flops down on his bed to sit, still pulling your mouth onto his dick. cock twitching in your mouth as you squeeze his soft but toned thighs, earning a groan and tug on your hair. “you see what you’re doin’ t’ me? m’ like an animal for you,” eyebrows truly showing how he feels about you. your hands wrap around his cock while you jerk it and suck his swollen, abused tip.

“show me how much you love me, sejanus,” keeping eye contact no brick could break, his cock twitches while you take him all in your mouth one last time. his hand finds its way to your breasts, caressing and squeezing them.

warm spurts of cum coating the back of your throat, his big hands grip your hair, bucking his hips into your mouth. groans and moans fill the room as you look up at him, with those eyes.

his cock twitching against your chin, his face flushed while brushing your hair to the side, “that was s– so good, s’ good,” wet lips quivering from your nails digging into thighs. “felt good?” you say, breathlessly, sejanus nodding immediately, face red and hairs starting to stick to his head.

he helps you to your feet before guiding you toward his bed. rough, big hands lay you down before trailing down to the end of the bed. he looks at you, examining your face attentively before gripping your ankles and dragging you to him.

“let's get this off, ‘kay?” he tugs the end of your shirt, you nodding while pulling the shirt over your head, your lace bra making sejanus groan at the sight of you, so, so beautiful.

he crawls to you, wrapping arms around your chest, undoing your bra, chests rubbing against each other. your bra falls as he watches in awe. sejanus rises and moves to the end of the bed, eyes lidded, once again hungry. tapping your ankle, silently telling you to open your legs, analyzing your wet cunt being soaked through your panties.

“so wet, all for me?” you nod quickly. his thumb presses against your needy clit, making you shiver and instinctively close your legs on his head. “m’ sorry, keep goin’,” grabbing a pillow to cover your mouth, to muffle the moans to come.

“no, wanna hear you,” his arm flexes as he grabs the pillow and pushes your hips up to make space for it.

his fingers hook onto the hem of your panties, pulling them off of your legs, exposing your bare cunt. he ruts himself against his bed as he groans hot breaths right into your clit. fingers glide across your slit, moving up to your clit, earning moans from you and your puffy lips. his tongue licks a stripe onto your cunt before latching onto your swollen clit.

long fingers traveling up to your mouth, and without a word you start to suck and swirl his fingers around in your mouth before him abruptly slipping them out and into your cunt.

lips detach from your clit to speak, “ah, takin’ it so well, baby. talk t’ me, please,” you nod before he curls his fingers up, hitting that sensitive spongy spot. “words, please,” he begs, gripping your thigh with his free hand, squeezing fat.

“love it, love your fingers in me s’ much.” groans fill your pussy as he goes faster, sucking your puffy clit, fingers going in and out. the coil in your stomach tightens with every sloppy thrust.

rabid moans leave your throat as you buck your hips up into his face, him holding your hips down with his hand. the bed slightly moving back and forth from his hips rutting against the edge, “so wet. so fuckin’ sweet,” his muffled words praising your cunt. your hips stutter on his chin and he thrusts mercilessly, in and out.

the fire in the pit of your stomach igniting as you cum all over his face and bed, cum pooling at your ass. his tongue swirling over your clit makes your eyes roll back earning a back arch off of the pillow. “fuck, i’m cummin’, you feel so good in me, love you so much, baby,” you exclaim while writhing under his spell.

his hips hump pathetically against his bed until he hears your words, your praise. his cum coating his boxers in hot, white seed.

“nngmf,” his head falls straight onto your clit. your hands finding his curls, soft moans filling the room. his seed dripping down his leg onto his carpet, leaving a stain, a memory.

“gonna cum in you now, let you have all of it,” crawling up the bed, smashing his cum washed lips onto yours. “can i fuck you, please?” you nod while he pulls his cock out of his wet boxers and lines it up with your entrance, “s’ take it all,” before smashing his hips in and out of your spoiled cunt. lips abusing your needier ones, he couldn’t wait, he couldn’t wait to be inside of you, soaked in your juices.

his hips don’t stop from slamming your cervix in, ripping painful but pleasurable moans from deep down. his flexed arms hold your knees to your shoulders, taking complete control of your body. “you feel so fuckin’ amazin’. better than i ever imagined. so – so warm for my cock, so fuckin’ tight,” you moan while gripping his hair in response, nodding so eagerly, wanting and needing more of his dick.

drool falling from the corners of your mouth, so fucked out, so dumb for his cock, the cock thats bruising up your cervix.

“like you were made for me, fittin’ me all up in here, fuck, gonna empty my balls all up in y– agh,” his balls slap your slit as you both chase the high. the delicious high, the rewarding high.

your pussy squeezes his cock so beautifully, so perfectly. “g’ cum, f’ so good in me,” your whisper, egging him on. he grips your thighs so tightly, threatening to cum all up in you. “you wanna cum? go ahead,” his eyes on yours, “cum all on me, all over me, please, ” his hips thrust violently into you, animalistically.

your eyes dart to your pussy, taking all of him, swallowing his cock so well. him digging his nails into your plush thighs, thrusts becoming sloppy. he pushes down on your stomach to feel himself making you feel so good. your cunt starts to flutter, while the coils tighten again, threatening to snap. “grippin’ me so good, like a fuckin’ vice,” he’s panting into your ear.

“m’ cumming, sejanus, all f’ you,” you reach climax, cum piling at the base of his cock as your back arches, pleasure coursing through you as the juices fall onto the bed under you.

he doesn’t pull out of you, though, instead chasing his high. “you did so good, thank you, thank you s’ much,” he groans out to you, still bruising your cervix. you can’t even respond, being so fucked out from his thick cock stretching you out so good.

cock twitching, he speeds up while gripping your ass, slamming your walls into him. hips stuttering while his warm cum coats the entirety of your cunt, inside and out. he rides his high out, though he pulls out eventually. just to replace it with his thick, long finger.

“love you, love y’ so much,” his bruised lips abusing yours.

he shuffles awkwardly to his bathroom to get you a warm towel, pulling the warm blanket over your bodies.

i see very few fics of him like he isnt so fine, but i must speak my truth!!!!

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oh-thats-what-it-is · 4 months

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Jess Mariano SMUT: The best friend and the boyfriend.

POV: Your best friend Rory always gets what she wants as the town’s golden girl. Well, you have had enough and its time you get what you want.

WARNINGS: 18+ (minors dni); cheating; rory slander; lorelai slander; p in v intercourse; dirty talk; unprotected sex; light choking - i think that is it

AUTHOR’S NOTE: wasn’t enough jess smut for me on here. Wanna fix that! first time writing anything so please be gentle. 2k+ words

You’re at Luke’s diner trying to get some work done before your exam tomorrow. The wetness inbetween your legs was proving a great distraction to the task at hand. You had to muster every ounce of concentration to listen to what Lane and Rory were saying. The three of you were finishing up your group project for school. You had all been friends for years, but recently you had found it hard to be yourself around them.

The reason for that, was standing behind the counter, serving customers with a surly look and a quippy comment if he spoke at all. Jess.

The whole town knew about him and Rory. How could they not? Stars’ Hollows’ golden girl drew attention wherever she went. Her and Dean’s romance had been the talk of the town - the stuff of young love! And she could do no wrong. Even after she dragged Dean through hell and back with her indecisiveness before ultimately bringing him to breaking point - people still loved her.

And hey - you did too. She was your best friend. But you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the way the town fawned over her. Even though it had been happening your whole lives. Rory and her busybody, try-hard mother were the apple of the town’s eyes. And you were used to it.

But you had been surprised that Jess had fallen for it. When he arrived in town, a sullen and brooding figure, you had immediately felt drawn to him. You could sense his angst. You could feel it vibrating off of him. And lets not pretend like he wasn’t a total smokeshow. He looked like a man.

If only Lorelai and Luke weren’t so close. Then you might have gotten your chance. But as fate had it, and as it always seemed to, Rory got in there first. Lorelai invited Luke and Jess over for a welcome dinner, and he instantly became smitten with Rory’s mild manner. It only took a matter of months - and a breaking of one Dean Forrestor’s heart - until they became an item.

At first it was all rosy. Rory wouldn’t shut up about it. But you could tell. Something wasn’t quite right. Two months passed and Rory would go red every time Jess was brought up, or came to sit with your group at lunch. You asked Rory - genuinely as a friend. She would just mumble and divert the subject. Lane also pressed, but there was no budging Miss Gilmore.

It was only a month ago when you cottoned on to what the problem was. You had been wearing jeans that hugged your ass, and a top that teased just enough of your cleavage to make anyone blush. You bumped into Jess in the hallway at school. As in, physically bumped into him, as he came around the corner. He grabbed onto you out of instinct to apologise.

“Oh hi Y/N. What are you….” His eyes trailed down to your chest. You didn’t notice at first. You thought he was dazed by the surprise interaction.

“Just on my way to Spanish. Señora Castilla is making us do a book report - I’m doing 100 years of Solitude.”

“Hmm” he responded. “That’s one of my favourites. Magical realism, love, scandal - “

And then you clock. His eyes are on your tits. His hand is still on you. On the small of your back.

This man is hungry. He hasn’t been laid or anything of the sort in a while. Or at least since he has been with Rory. Jess wants you. You avert your gaze.

“Jess. I have to go.”

He moved his hand lower, testing the waters. You don’t remove it. You inhaled, trying to retain your morals. You remind yourself: We’re in the middle of the hallway. At school. He is Rory’s boyfriend. Rory is my best friend.

You repeated these over and over to yourself like a mantra, willing yourself to move. After what seems like an eternity, he whispers in your ear: “My car. 10 minutes,” and sauntered away.

And that was how it began. A whole month of some of the steamiest makeout sessions, hottest sex, and best orgasms of your life. Did the secrecy turn you on? Maybe. Did you feel bad for Rory? Perhaps. But were those moments with Jess worth it? Absolutely.

You had to be careful. Not just to avoid Rory and Lane. But Luke couldn’t know either. If he did, he would have gone straight to Lorelai and it would have been a whole thing. It wasn’t worth it. So the two of you would sneak in quickies in his car, behind Miss Patty’s studio, in the AV room at school etc.

But Luke was out tonight. Doing something for Lorelai probably. Who knows. Jess had suggested the two of you take advantage of the situation. He had recently acquired his own room at Luke’s, ever since his uncle had knocked a hole in the wall for him. It wasn’t much, but you couldn’t wait to share a bed with him, and take your sweet time worshipping his body.

“Okay Y/N, we’re off. You coming?” Asked Lane.

“Nah, I have a bunch more work to do for my college application. I will see you both tomorrow?”

Rory went over to give Jess a kiss goodbye. You couldn’t help but smirk as you saw him looking at you as she kissed his cheek. The two girls waved goodbye and left the cafe.

The minute they left, Jess pounced on your table. He summoned Cesar to take over his shift and close up.

“Cmon baby” he whispered, taking care not make it look obvious to the other customers what was going on.

You and Jess went up the stairs silently but quickly. The minute you reached the top flight and opened the door into the living quarters, Jess slammed the door shut and pressed you against it.

“Do you know how bad you are? Sitting right next to my girlfriend and giving me those ‘fuck me’ eyes all night? It was all i could do not to take you on the table right there.”

His forehead was against yours, his hands cradling your face. All you could see was him. All you could feel was him.

“Such a good boy for restraining yourself,” you cooed, trying lure him into making the first move. Each time you were together, it still felt like new. A game of chicken. Who would break first? Fresh and dangerous, yet familiar and comforting all at once. “It must have been so hard for you” you said, moving your hand towards his crotch. “Show me how much you want me” you dared.

It was too much for him. He growled and leant in to kiss you with everything he had. He was messy and sloppy with need. His teeth clashed against yours. You moaned with need. Your hands wandered to your waist, dipping under your trousers, then your panties. You started playing with your clit and panting his name back into his mouth.

You were still against the door. Jess moved his hands under your shirt, finding the valley of your chest easily as you hadn’t worn a bra today.

“Fuck” he said, breaking the kiss. “You had your tits out all day baby girl? You are such a slut, wanting everyone to notice.”

Before you could begin to formulate a reply, his mouth was on your left nipple. You sighed as he sucking with such fervour. Just as you got used to the sensation enough to say something witty to him, he bit down hard. You yelped - this was a new move from him. He obviously felt emboldened by the new setting, being in his own territory and out of a car.

Jess went to your right nipple, sucking and making the most obscene slurping noise and his hand went to your other tit. It was too much. It felt too good. You started playing with your clit with even more until he finally noticed.

“That’s my job Y/N. Its not like you to be so selfish!“ he scolded. He grabbed both your wrists and pressed himself into you, letting you feel his bulge. You whimpered at the loss of your fingers inside your wet cunt and pouted at him. He brought your fingers to your mouth.

“Suck” he said, with a devious glint in his eyes. Like a fucking wet wipe, you did as he said. You were embarrassed at first, but didn’t care. You would do anything he said at this point.

When he was satisfied you had fully cleaned your fingers, he took them out your mouth and kissed you hard and hungrily on the lips.

You saw you opportunity to the turn the tables, to take power. “Jess?” You asked innocently.

“Hmm?” He responded, trailing kisses down your neck.

“The whole point of tonight is that we have a bed for once. Let’s make the most of it.” You pushed him off you and took his hand. You walked past the door to his bedroom. He stopped you and looked at you confused.

“Oh Jess. I don’t wanna be fucked in your single bed. I want to feel all of you” you whispered in his ear, guiding him to Luke’s room and king-sized bed.

His eyes widened with realisation and need. Was this a bad idea? Almost certainly. Did he care? At this point, not even wild horses could stop him from having you. He would do anything you said. And he had to admit, there was something hot about doing it somewhere he shouldn’t.

You pushed Jess onto Luke’s bed, unzipped his jeans and pulled down his boxers. His cock sprung up immediately. It was red, throbbing and angry. You couldn’t help but drool. Jess saw this and smirked. He knew what he did to you. He pulled off his shirt, knowing it would drive you crazy.

You dived onto his cock, unable to wait any longer. You took all of him in his mouth, as he held your head there. His pubic hair tickled your nose. You stayed there for as long as possible, until your eyes watered. You took your head off, wiped your mouth, and then began bobbing up and down slowly.

Jess propped himself up on his elbows, watching you like a hawk. His tongue was sticking out as he concentrated his breathing to stop himself from blowing his load. His dark curls were pressed wet against his forehead as beads of sweat started to roll down his face.

You moved to his balls, gently sucking them into your mouth while your hand moved up and down on his rock hard member. He started moaning and rocked his hips into your hands, desperate for more.

You had him right where you wanted him. You removed yourself from him completely and clambered to sit on top of him. His cock was nestled in your folds. So close to where he wanted to be. So close to where you wanted him to be. But you decided the chase was more fun. You lowered yourself down, so that your tits were pressed against his chest.

You whispered “Can Rory make you feel this way, Jess? Does she drive you wild like I do? Can she make you moan like a bitch the way I can? Has she ever made your cock this hard?” You punctuated each sentence with a nip on his ear.

“Fuck you,” he replied, grabbing your ass and turning you onto your back so that he was on top. He pushed himself into you and started fucking you with no mercy.

Your tits were bouncing with every thrust and you were whimpering with need every time he pulled out. You snaked your arms around his back, pulling him deeper into you. You didn’t want any space between you.

“You’re such a whore Y/N. Fucking your best friend’s boyfriend. I can’t believe it turns you on so much.”

You moaned at this words, unable to deny the appeal of the whole situation.

“Fuck baby, I can feel your cunt clenching around me as i say that! You are a fucking whore Y/N, squeezing me with your greedy pussy. Such a bad fucking girl.” Jess yelps, spanking your ass.

“I am a whore Jessy, your whore, only for you” you cried, embarrassed by your pathetic display. He grinned as you used the nickname you only brought out for him when you were cock drunk beyond belief. You groaned inwardly as you couldn’t believe you had given him the satisfaction of that ego boost.

You were lost completely in Jess. He moved his hand down to your core, adding a finger into your weeping pussy, and using his thumb to toy with your clit. It was bliss.

“Jessy?” You called out.

“Hmm?” He groaned in response.

“I want you to cum inside me” you begged.

His eyes widened as a wild look came over him. Without missing a beat, he swung your legs over his shoulders and bent you in two as he fucked into you harder than before. His hand moved to your throat, gently choking you. You stuck your tongue out like a dog in heat - animalistic and beyond a care as to what was normal.

The bed’s headboard was hitting the wall with every thrust from Jess’ pelvis, sure to cause a suspect dent tomorrow. But neither of you could have given a single fuck as the you both chased your highs. The sound of skin slapping, moans and gasps were obscene.

“Jess, have you seen Luke’s toolbox? We need it and he said it might be - Oh my god!”

You both froze and turned to the door. Lorelai was face to face with you and Jess butt naked on Luke’s bed. Sorry - lets rephrase that. Lorelai walked in on her daughter’s boyfriend and best friend fucking raw on Luke’s bed.

She narrowed her eyes and hissed: “Get the fuck out.”

#jess mariano #gilmore girls #milo ventimiglia #gilmore girls smut #jess mariano smut #literati #lorelai gilmore #jess x reader #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano imagine #jess imagine #gilmore girls imagine

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book-place · 11 months

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Arts and Crafts Disaster

Warnings: blood, papers cuts, slight cursing, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Castiel x reader platonic, Dean Winchester x sister reader, Sam Winchester x sister reader

Request: hello :))) I have a request!! Can you do a castiel x child reader where castiel has to babysit child reader again, but child reader somehow injured themself and dean and sam come back from a hunt to a crying child reader and a panicky cas? thanks!! love your stories btw<33

Request by: @homowholikespace

*not my gif*

Summary: Cas is back to babysit again

A/N: There’s some references to a past work of mine —> Of Cats and Angels; Also, yes paper cuts do hurt that much. No, it’s not dramatic

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

“Cassie!” You cheered as soon as the angel landed in the bunker's library, hurrying over and wrapping your arms tightly around his leg in a hug.

“Hello, Y/n.” He greeted, patting the top of your head fondly.

“Thanks again for watching her, Cas.” Dean spoke up, striding into the room as he slung a duffel bag containing all he would need for the upcoming hunt over his shoulder.

“It is no problem.” He answered the eldest Winchester honestly, nodding along as you already began babbling to him about one thing or another.

Dean gave him a smile, clapping him on the back before trailing after Sam, who had walked up the stairs and out into the garage moments ago.

The two of them were going out on a hunt a couple miles away, so they called up their angel friend to babysit you once more. Considering the last time had been a success, save for the newfound kitten that now roamed the halls of the bunker.

“Say ‘hi’ to Sir. Fuzzy- Bottom Mittens, Cassie!” You demanded, presenting the cat up to him as soon as your brother disappeared.

“Hello, Sir. Fuzzy- Bottom Mittens.” He echoed, reaching out a finger and gently scratching the small thing behind its ear.

You grinned up at him, satisfied, and set the cat free on the ground, “What are we gonna do today?” You asked eagerly.

From the look on your face, he could tell you were hoping that today would end with you gaining a new pet again. But he couldn’t let that happen, he doubted your brothers would let it slide again. It was pure luck he got away unscathed after they found out about Sir. Fuzzy- Bottom Mittens last time.

“How about some arts and crafts?” Castiel suggested.

After the last time, he had done some research on what children liked to do, and this was one of the top results he had found.

You squealed, nodding up and down happily before skipping off to go get some art supplies Sam had left in a nearby closet for you and returned with a box filled to the brim with different papers, colored pencils, markers, and crayons.

You happily dumped them on a table and you and Cas set to work, a determined silence falling over the two of you like a blanket.

Working side by side, you each were laser focused on your own projects at hand, Castiel trying to draw a rainbow with the perfect mix of colors, and you working hard to draw a family picture of you and your brothers- featuring Castiel and Sir. Fuzzy- Bottom Mittens, of course.

This went on for hours. Every time one of you finished your drawings, you wouldn’t find it satisfying enough, and would crumble it into a ball, toss it into a nearby wastebasket, and start over. There was definitely something admirable about both of your determination to get your pieces of art just right.

Finally, a wide grin broke out onto your face as you stared down at your paper, “Cassie! Cassie, look! I did it-“ You whipped your paper into your hands all too quickly to try and show the angel your finished product. The material sliced across your finger in such a way that it began to bleed immediately. Paper cut.

Both of you stilled for all of a minute, until the pain stung harsh and fast and tears began to fill your eyes.

You began wailing right away, sticking out your wounded hand as if it was infected, and Cas’s panic quickly filled his silent void.

“Are you alright?” He asked hurriedly, “What can I-“

You just kept bawling though, the sting of the paper cut that dug deep fresh in your pain.

Poor Castiel had no idea what to do. He had never been in this situation before. Sure, he could reach over and easily heal you with a touch, but all logic seemed to fly out of his mind the second you began sobbing.

“Hey! We’re home!” As always, Dean and Sam burst in at just the wrong moment.

The second your cries reached their ears, they flew down the stairs in a blur of movement and panic, very similar to Castiels, not stopping until they were right in front of the two of you.

“What is it?” Dean panted instantly, “What’s wrong?”

With a wobbling lip, you held out your scarred finger to them, and they both let out simultaneous breaths of relief.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Sam cooed, shoulders relaxing as he scooped you up into his arms, letting you burrow your face into the crook of his neck, “It’s okay, you’re alright.”

He lead you off to get a bandaid and Dean whirled around to face Cas as soon as he was out of sight, “What the hell, man?” He demanded.

The angel shrugged helplessly, “Just a moment ago she started crying very loudly and I didn’t know-“

You and Sam entered back in the room, hand in hand, as you wiped your eyes and nose with the back of your sleeve, calming down significantly.

“Are you alright?” Cas immediately asked in concern.

You nodded shyly, focusing your eyes on the ground as you shuffled your feet up and down.

Sam smiled down at you softly, squeezing your hand gently in reassurance, “She’s alright, just got a bit freaked out, that’s all.”

You sniffled slightly, gently letting go of Sam’s hand and walking back over to the table, lifting up your drawing- very carefully this time- to show the three men your hard work.

“Wow, great job, kiddo.” Dean praised instantly, reaching over and ruffling your hair, emitting giggles from you.

Sam grinned, studying the drawing of himself, “The hair is spot on.” He remarked.

“It looks wonderful, Y/n.” Castiel told you honestly.

All four of you were standing in a line in the picture, holding hands and wearing bright smiles, Sir. Fuzzy- Bottom Mittens of course hanging a couple inches above all of you in the air, doing so with the powers you were convinced he had and just never used when you were all around.

Idjits 👟- @ineedmorefanfics2 @roseblue373 @popfishjr

#platonic #platonic imagine #x reader #supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader platonic #dean winchester #castiel x reader #castiel #sam winchester x sister reader #dean winchester x sister reader #sam winchester x reader platonic #sam winchester x reader #spn x reader #castiel x reader platonic #child reader #sister reader

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anundyingfidelity · 2 months

Text

I'M A RUIN — Soldier Boy/Ben (Part IV)

Series summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x female reader.

Word count: 2.8k.

Warnings for series: set after S3 (spoilers), some OOC!Ben, some depressed!Ben, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, slow-burn, language, PTSD, reader has Compound V (she's no Vought supe tho), Soldier Boy being an usual asshole, reader is a fucking liar.

Warnings on this chapter: Reader's parents are fucking irresponsible and disgusting people, mentions of a dead parent, Homelander!!!! (he's a fucking warning), sexual assault (touching, kissing, etc.) and some after thoughts, you know the usual questionable stuff on TB universe, Ben's point of view and presence=red flag.

Notes: more about reader's past in here! And just want to add that this is how i imagine her suit on this chapter. I'm also using a lot of inspo from Sue Storm of the Fantastic Four because I love her, so yeah. And thanks so much for reading it means a lot to me! ^^

this fic tags: @k-slla @syrma-sensei @mostlymarvelgirl @cheynovak @drasticemotions @blacknoirr @deans-spinster-witch

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

get yourself in the taglist!

GEN MASTERLIST! — SERIES MASTERLIST!

Part IV: Countdown

2009

"Spectrum, turn around, please," the lady on the other side of the camera ordered.

You did as she told, turning slowly and showing a complete view of your suit. Made of unstable molecules, the suit was your best creation at the time. It was all white with black details, and finally you had something covering your whole body that'd turn invisible when you commanded. Your boots were the same, specially built to disappear and blend with your powers when needed.

"Great, show us what you can do," the woman said.

You nodded, your heart beating so hard on your chest. You didn't want to fuck it up. Not for your mother. She was the main reason why you were there in the first place. You took a deep breath, with eyes closed you raised your palms at your chest level and created a force field around your figure. The force fields you learnt to make over the years of self training were like gigantic bubbles that allowed you to float around if you said so, and they protected you or anyone or anything they were covering.

The camera, the couch, the table, and any single thing you found in the room were now surrounded by the fields, lifting them up a couple of feet from the surface. And once you thought it was enough, they landed slowly on their place, the fields vanished just like the one around yourself. Though the lady on the other side didn't seem amused or surprised.

"I also turn invisible," you said for the first time after your personal presentation was over.

"Go on," she plainly answered.

And within seconds, you slowly disappeared from her sight. The fabric of the suit faded away.

"I created this special costume to turn invisible without, you know, being naked," you commented.

Still, there was no clear answer on the face of the woman. She was just busy taking notes and filming your audition with the steady camera on the table. She said nothing, her eyes glued to her writing. Disappointed, you made yourself visible again.

"That's impressive!"

You gasped. It was that voice you heard so many times on TV. His steps came closer and he stopped by your side with a smile on his face.

"Homelander," the woman called with a wide, fake grin. "You weren't supposed to be in here."

"Just passing by, wanted to say hi. I'm really amazed by you, darling."

You tried to smile the best you could. But you were so tense and flustered now that he was in front of you. Your childhood hero, coming to see you at your audition. Even before you got a clear response from Vought. It felt like a dream. Any child had dreamt of it at some point.

You grew up with him and the Seven. He was one of the reasons you forgot every single problem and responsibility your dysfunctional, selfish family put you through from a young age. To them, you were just a doll to play with and show off. The perfect daughter. But seeing the Seven was totally different. You wanted to be like them. Too sad this part was also linked to your mother and her self-centered shit. If only...

"Thank you," you barely answered with a soft voice, looking down on your boots.

"I've been out there, hesitating if I should come in, since you created those force fields. Wow!" he praised, making you chuckle. "You left the door open on purpose, didn't you two?"

All you could do was chuckle again, you felt your cheeks burning at his banter. He smiled along with you before turning his eyes to the lady.

"Hey, Greta. Can you leave us alone for a moment?"

"But I have to-"

Homelander chuckled, cutting her words. "Absolutely no, I can continue for you. Remember?"

Greta, as he called her, swallowed thickly and her eyes switched between you and the supe. "Sure, sir."

She lifted herself up from the chair, took her things and went out. You noticed the camera was still in place, that meant it was still rolling.

Once the door closed. "So..." he began, walking a circle around you. "How'd you create this... costume of yours?"

"Well, I like science," you nervously smiled, playing with your glove-covered hands. He passed by your face this time and paced around one more time. "It took me a while to figure out how but I did something with the molecules, created my own patent of the matter and did this complete costume."

Homelander stopped at your back. He hummed. "Smart. Tell me..."

His pause made you answer what he was looking for. "Spectrum."

"Spectrum, why do you want to be part of the Seven so bad?"

Homelander dragged your alias with a dark voice, one that replaced the long warm and welcoming tone he had with you at first. You licked your lips, anxious and out of words. Once behind your figure, he angled himself so close to one of your ears that you felt his hot breath on your skin.

"So? I know you have something to say, dear."

"I- I just want to help others... Do what you guys do..."

The next thing you felt was the supe's strong body pressing on your ass. You gasped loudly as his hands grabbed the sides of your hips forcing you to fall back against his chest.

"Go on," Homelander whispered.

One of his hands roamed over your stomach slowly, right under your breasts, and you were absolutely caged on his grip. You took deep breaths, closing your eyes as he touched you over the suit.

"I- I know science, I told you. Also I can help the team w-with new inventions of my own... Create technology t-to fight very bad threats," you stuttered.

"Mmmh, yeah, I like the sound of that," Homelander chuckled against your neck, his lips tracing soft and unwanted kisses on your skin.

"Please- ah!"

He harshly pushed you against his groin. Your breath caught in your throat at the feel of his crotch. This wasn't what you thought it was. This was not what your mother signed you up for.

"Tell me, did your father know how much of a fucking slut you are?" Homelander hissed, his hand cupping your covered breast.

Something inside you emerged at his question. His touch was disgusting and it was making you sick and the mention of your father, your dead father, made it even worse.

"What do you know about him?" you asked in a dark whisper, still planning your next move.

Deep inside, you were scared of Homelander, it was a new face he had yet to show to the world.

"Just the basics, honey," he said plainly, forcing you to walk with a grip on your arm. The supe sat on the couch and pushed you to his lap. "He was quite the rich man, Edgar knew you'd be a great deal to the company, well, your money of course."

You let out a gasp. "What?"

"Honey, he was one of our most valuable shareholders," he playfully answered, his hands cupping your cheeks.

And it clicked. Your mother supported your dream just because she'd still be getting profits from Vought. The firm was now under her name, and she needed something more to strengthen the relationship between Vought and your father's inheritance. The fucking witch. And then, your father. He was the one financing this piece of shit sitting between your legs. Were all supes like this behind their masks? If so, fucking crap. Everything you believed in was bullshit. A circus. And they clowned you so well. And above all, the sickening man that had been touching you without your permission the past endless minutes...

"Oh, poor thing, you didn't know," Homelander's intense blue eyes widened when he immediately noticed your confused, blank face.

Your eyes filled with tears and still, you refused to cry in front of the asshole you once admired.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you here with us," he smirked. His fingers on your neck, feeling your pulse. You closed your eyes so hard, your nose wrinkled and you held back a sob when his hand added pressure around your collar. He leaned closer, his lips finding yours in a sloppy kiss as you tried to resist his touch. "So fucking useful," Homelander whispered against your lips. He gave you that mischievous grin of his. You shivered. "I can't wait to ruin you. Every single inch of you."

The same past memory of Homelander haunted you the next day. The way you found out about your father's business with Vought and how the supes showed their real faces was the main reason you were here now.

You remembered you had to hit Homelander as hard as you could to escape from him and use your force field to protect yourself before running away and leaving the tower, fully invisible. Not that it was a great help since Homelander had a lot of abilities with his vision, and he could hear the beating of your heart miles away, but for you, it was worth the try. It was a surprise he didn't follow you that day. Instead, Vought got a new deal with your mother for the budget and you hated that. You cut all communication with what was left of your family after that day, knowing it could've been so much worse.

Homelander and Vought, however, were after you now. And he was a difficult face to forget. Not only because he was faking everything from the public but because Vought was after your father's money. And deciding to step away from all the illegal stuff they did, you left for college. Science was always a part of you and it's what got you here, under Grace Mallory and the CIA, doing different jobs you were not so proud of, but now, you were looking for a cure. It was all that mattered those days, until you found out that your mother had been experimented on during her pregnancy. A fucking lie. That's what your life was. That's why she cheered you to go to that stupid audition and fell into the hands of that monster at twenty-three years old.

The thought of your father supporting the horrid things Vought and the Seven did for decades was unbearable, and since Homelander's visit the night before caused those memories and nightmares to be back. It took a great effort to get out of bed and come to work that day. You'd make sure to compensate yourself for it later. But now, you were in a hurry to your daily session with Soldier Boy. You saved your phone in the pocket of your trousers after checking the time as you walked down the aisle, grabbing tightly the report of your patient with your other hand. Well, thirty minutes late wasn't nothing.

"Doctor!" you heard a female voice running towards you in the halls that made you turn on your heels. It was your young assistant.

"Hey, Bianca. What's wrong?" you asked as you noticed she was a little out of breath.

"We ran another test. The supe survived," she blurted, handing you a tablet that you didn't take. Sometimes the change in the results was minimal.

"That's great. Any significant improvements?"

"Well, just minimal effects. Right now some fever, fatigue, dehydration, and uhm, low pulse."

You sighed after another illusion. "Right. I don't think those are minimal effects, Bianca. Please check our patient and see how the powers are working. Run blood tests, all tests you can and then you can provide me the results. I'm a little busy right now."

She nodded with a shy smile, looking around subtly. "Sure."

You smiled back as best as you could. "Anything else?"

"No, it's just- I see you go this way a lot," Bianca pointed to the direction you were heading with her gaze. "That's Soldier Boy, isn't he?"

Your brows furrowed. "Why you ask?"

"Nothing, well, my grandpa used to talk about him all the time," she giggled. "I was just curious, sorry."

"No problem. I get it. But I really have to go, please make sure those results are on my desk by the end of the day," you ordered kindly.

"I will."

"Thanks, Bianca."

With that, you gave a last smile and began your walk again away from her, slower than before. For some reason something was off since you entered the building. It felt different. Totally weird. For the record, since Homelander threatened to have your head off, you paid twice the attention to your surroundings and the people around. You didn't know if there was something big planning right now in front of your nose. You just walked a couple of feet when you felt someone following behind, that was probably watching over you. In a swift movement, you turned on your heels but no one was there. The aisle was empty.

Bianca was already gone and almost no one would wander on this wing of the building, for obvious reasons. With caution you resumed your steps, telling yourself that you were not going insane.

"Robert Singer and I have been hard at work bridging the divide between the human and Superhuman communities. I've seen that divide firsthand in my three years running the FBSA—"

Ben scoffed, taking the TV controller to turn the screen off. "Bullshit."

He stood in the middle of the room with nothing but a towel hanging down his hips after taking a shower, taking the last smoke of his blunt. He grew tired of waiting for you, so he just took a shower and now, everything on the fucking channels was the stupid campaign by Victoria Neuman being supported by Vought and the fucking brat he was supposed to call his son.

With a deep breath, he finished the weed and threw the remains on the ashtray over the new coffee table. His mind started to wander away, realizing he had been a little calm the last couple of days after he almost blew up the fucking place to the ground. Inside, Ben knew your words and actions were a lot of help for the small sense of serenity that started to grow within his chest after that moment. Absolutely that was something he wouldn't admit, ever. But if he was to say, he was actually relieved.

Taking a look around, his place was not that big of a mess. You were certainly used to his clothes around the floor and the sofas, so it wasn't really important. What he found annoying though was you pushing him to read the stupid books and write down his feelings. He wasn't going to do that. If you were there to medicate him, so be it. He wondered why you took so long to do it. Probably he should be stoned enough to not feel anything. That was fucking better.

Just as he started to go over his mental plan to get the hell out of your prison, the door opened. He smirked at your sight. As always, an useless armed man standing behind your figure. You dispatched the guard and stepped inside Soldier Boy's place, the door closing with a loud sound.

You stopped your tracks just a few steps away from him. He noticed your eyes tracing his half bare body in a quick motion, before turning to his face with an arrogant smirk on your lips.

"See something you like, sweetheart?" Ben teased.

With a light chuckle, you held your head high. "Don't be delusional, it's just basic instinct."

"Believe me, I fucking know that," he snarked, taking over your figure with his green eyes the same way you did before. "Basic instinct."

You rolled your eyes. "So," you sat down in your usual place to start the session, making a pile of three of his shirts in the empty space. "Make yourself decent and then we can continue."

Ben took some sweatpants and a shirt from the floor and started to dress himself in front of you, without much care. He smirked as you turned away your gaze to focus on the report lying on your lap.

"You're late," he remarked, taking his own seat once he was done with his clothes.

"Yeah, I had some things to do," you mumbled going through the pages. "But I see we can start now."

He took a deep breath, staring into the distance. "Don't make it boring."

You grimaced, looking back at him. "Can't promise that."

Ben sensed a playfulness coming from you. Could it be that, after recieving your comforting words, he was seeing another side of you? Like the side that would actually trust him, because you still arrived. You were sitting in front of him. You were with him, in the same fucking room where the sun was far from getting. Yeah, you were there but he was too full of ego to bring his walls down again. He wanted to convince himself he wasn't vulnerable. He knew he was more than that. He was Soldier Boy, the man who had to stop Homelander and his fucking kid.

He smirked. "Well, sugar, I can ask you to try."

#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy imagine #soldier boy fanfiction #the boys amazon fanfiction #the boys series #the boys tv #jensen ackles fanfiction #soldier boy/ben

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deanwritings · 8 months

Text

The Guest House - Prologue

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 2,225

A/N: Welcome to the start of The Guest House! This little bitty came to me while I was staying at a lake house and relaxing, so really excited to dive in.

Chapters will be posted weekly on Wednesdays.

If you would like to be tagged in the series, just leave a comment or shoot me a message and I'll get you added.

Enjoy!

You dig your nails into your fingertips as they sit in your lap underneath the table. Your heart was finally leveling off as your review was coming to an end. So far your marks had been glowing; your metrics were up, your peer reviews were stellar, all that was left was to hear if they would be promoting you.

You’ve been working for that next step for a year and a half now. After most of your team quit, you took the opportunity to show your bosses that you could run the department with a can-do attitude and hard work. You’ve brought up a promotion a few times at your check-ins with your boss, and she assured you it would be a topic of conversation at your next review, which would be ending in the next few minutes.

With a polite smile, you look across the table at your direct manager and her boss.

“Any questions?” Your boss asks plainly, and your brow furrows as you look between them. If you didn’t know any better, it sounded like they were wrapping up the meeting.

Your lips fall apart and your heart jumps into your throat as you realize what’s about to happen.

“Uh,” you start as you squeeze your fists together. “I was hoping to discuss my possible promotion.” You loosen your smile as you try to keep your eye contact divided between both of them.

The two share a small look.

You’re not getting promoted. Is what that looks says.

Your boss’ boss clears his throat as he readjusts in his seat.

“After reviewing your performance, we do not feel a promotion is appropriate at this time.” He says with a tinge of forced sorrow.

Your stomach plummets as your jaw clenches.

How could they not be promoting you? You’ve been working the job of at least three people for over a year now without complaint. You’ve spent countless days staying late and making sure projects didn’t fall wayside while the company took their sweet ass time looking for replacements for your team.To their own admission, your metrics were good, so why the hell wasn’t your hard work being recognized?

“I don’t understand.” You swallow to keep your voice from shaking. You never pushed back on your bosses. Ever. But you thought today was the day you were finally going to be rewarded for everything you’ve done for them.

“You just said that my metrics were up and I was performing above expectations. What is hindering him from getting a promotion then?”

The two look at each other again and you can feel yourself beginning to shake as they bide their time for an excuse.

“Y/N, you have performed well this past year for the most part, but there were concerns with your performance in January.” Your boss folds her tanned hands on the faux wood tabletop as she speaks up. “You let things fall through the cracks and were distant from your work. We feel that is not reflective of someone who should hold a Senior Management position.” She offers a soft smile and a shitty excuse.

It takes your brain a moment to catch up with what they were talking about; January. Two months ago. Your aunt passed away suddenly from a heart attack as she was making dinner. You can still hear your mother’s cries over the phone as she called to tell you the news that her sister was dead. And at only 52.

You were only able to take one day off from work for her funeral, as you were in the middle of a project launch and it was all hands on deck. When you returned, yeah, you were “distant.” You were mourning the loss of a woman you loved dearly while trying to help your mother and cousins navigate their grief as well. Your aunt’s passing also made you scared for your own mother, who is a few years older, and some night’s you couldn’t sleep as you thought about life without your best friend. It took you weeks to shake free from the heartbreak and anxiety that had engulfed you, but you came back strong and started excelling once more.

And there your bosses sat, in the all-glass meeting room of the shared workspace your company rented out because they were too cheap to get a full-blown office, throwing your aunt’s death in your face and using it as the excuse as to why they would not be promoting you after more than eighteen months of slaving away for them with barely a thank you.

You laugh through your nose and shake your head as you swallow hard.

“We’re happy to talk more about this in a few months at your next check-in.” Your boss jumps in, and you bite down on your lip. “We know you’re committed to this company and role, and we want to make sure we help you get to the next level.” She smiles at you like she actually believes the bullshit she’s spouting.

You take a deep breath and genuinely smile back. You always prided yourself on keeping a cool head, especially at work. But a line had crossed, and even for you, enough was now enough.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” Your boss ticks her head at your words. “Because I quit.” You stand up and smile down at the two asshats you gave everything for, and now realize, you would never get anything in return from them.

Both of their mouths fall open as they share a shocked look between them.

“Y/N, let’s not do anything rash.” Your boss’ boss stands as well, holding his hands up. “There’s no need to jump to something like this. I’m sure there’s something we can work out”

You push your chair in, your smile not wavering.

“I feel that this review is not reflective of a company I want to work for anymore.” You throw their words back to them. “I’ll have no issue finding a new role that values my hard work and dedication, and won’t use a family member’s death as a reason to squirrel out of a rightful promotion.”

“Best of luck filling my role.” You turn on your heel and hurry down the hallway to your shared office. A few coworkers glance up at your haste entrance, but you ignore them as you grab your purse and start grabbing the few personal effects that would fit on your tiny, shared desktop; just a single, unframed picture of you, your parents, and your brother, a few fidget toys, and your favorite pens. The rest belonged to the company, just like you had.

Without a word, you fling your purse onto your shoulder and with your head held high, carry yourself out of the office without a single glance back. As you step onto the elevator, you smirk as you watch through the all-glass walls as your bosses shout at one another before the doors close.

“You what?” Your mother gasps through the phone at your news. You knew your parents weren’t going to take this well, and you were prepared for it.

“I quit.” You repeat, even though you know she heard you the first time.

“Y/N, what on God’s green earth would make you quit without another job lined up?” She huffs.

You think about your Aunt Rose, how your bosses used your grief as an excuse not to give you a well-earned promotion. She was always free spirited, having career-jumped her whole life. She started as a bartender, then worked as a sous chef for a catering company before she decided she wanted to be a radio DJ. Years before she died, she had gotten her real estate license and was working as an agent right up until she passed. You had always been the opposite, very much a mirror of your mother. You went to a good college and got a business degree. You had worked for a few companies over the years, but you always stayed in the same field, working your way up the ladder. You never wanted to take a risk with your career, you had worked too hard. But working hard got you nothing but late nights and a bullshit yearly review.

To say you were exhausted was an understatement. And you can barely recall the last time you got together with your friends, let alone a date. You had married your job and it had been a toxic and loveless relationship.

It was time to start fresh and take some time for yourself. Which is exactly why you had seventeen tabs of house rentals open on your laptop screen as you half-listen to your mother as she continues to admonish your rash decision.

“It’s going to be good for me, mom.” You cut her off once you’ve finally had enough of her harping. You loved the woman to death, but my god once you wind her up, she doesn’t stop.

“I have enough savings to comfortably get me through six months without a job. I’m going to take a few weeks off to reset, then I’ll hit the ground running with the job search.” You cross your legs as you languidly swipe through rental photos.

After a few more minutes, you finally hang up the phone and start seriously considering your options.

You wanted to get away upstate, not so far away that you couldn’t get back for anything important, but far enough to feel like the city wasn’t in your rearview mirror. You figured a month would be the perfect time. Four weeks of a quiet town to relax and rediscover your love of reading and writing. It’s been ages since you actually sat down and read a good book. You were never good at art, but maybe you’d even find a studio to do some painting or finally give pottery a try. For the first time in your life, your time would be your own to sleep in and do whatever you wanted with your days.

As you click through listings, you notice one that is significantly cheaper than the rest. Curiously, you click the link and a gray-sided cabin with a red tin-looking roof brightens up in front of you.

NEW LISTING! Private Guest House, Hot tub included.

One bedroom guest house available for rent. Relax in the peacefulness of upstate while being a short driving distance to town. The guest house has a full bathroom, complete with tub. There is also a hot tub on the patio that is for guest enjoyment. 10 minutes from downtown with plenty of bars and shops to keep you busy. The owner lives on the main property, but will keep to themself unless you need anything. Perfect for anyone looking to getaway!

As you click through the photos, you’re greeted with a warm, wooden interior, a wood burning stove, a fairly updated kitchen, and a queen bed with an adjacent master bath.

The cabin feels a little too good to be true for the price, and you click “Contact Owner” at the bottom of the page.

“Hello,” You start your chat. “I’m interested in potentially renting your guest cabin for four weeks. The place looks lovely but I wanted to ask if there are any issues I should be aware of since the price is so much more reasonable than other listings on this site.”

You were hoping there were no gimmicks, you’ve heard horror stories before, and with no reviews, you wanted to do your due diligence.

After you send the chat, you step away to make a quick dinner, chicken and ramen, comfy and warm, before you settle back onto the couch to watch your favorite reality show. You’re about to press play when you notice a response in your inbox.

“Hi there. Totally understand your concern. I just put the listing up today and am offering a discounted rate for the first few renters to help get traffic to our rental and start getting reviews. Let me know if you have any questions.” You shrug at the perfectly reasonable response and you click on the circular picture of the brunette next to the message, opening the owner’s profile.

LISA BRAEDEN (Host)

0 Reviews | 1 Month Renting

Lisa’s confirmed information

Identity ✓

Email address ✓

Phone number✓

Proud wife and owner of a unique property. I am a certified yoga instructor and have been teaching and practicing for over 15 years. I love a good glass of wine, a well-cooked meal, and traveling to new places.

You stare at the picture of the smiling, long-haired, tanned brunette. She’s absolutely beautiful. Probably a few years older than you and seems down to earth in a regular tshirt.

Honestly, considering you were out of a job, the discounted price would really come in handy. Then you wouldn’t feel so guilty taking a full month off before you started your job hunt.

You click back to the rental’s profile and put in your dates. You take a deep breath before clicking RESERVE and putting in your payment details. Your rental has been confirmed. The message pops up. With a thousand-watt smile, you shut your laptop and settle into your couch. In just a few days, you would be on your way to a new beginning.

Keep Reading

A/N: Fun fact, the first half of this was inspired by true events. Sadly, I didn't quit on the spot, but I did shortly after with a 10x better job.

And know we didn't get to see Dean yet, but I promise he will be in the next chapter!

Anywho, stealing this from the lovely @zepskies

NEXT TIME:

“I’m calling the cops!” She shouts, her phone in hand, music blaring from the speaker as her fingers are ready to press the three numbers as she stares at him with fear in her Y/C/E eyes.

“Take it easy,” Dean holds his hands up, and the woman looks like she’s going to have a heart attack as she notices the gun in his right hand. Realizing his mistake, he quickly tucks it away into his waistband and holds his empty hands out to her, wanting her to know he’s not a threat.

“First off,” Dean holds up a finger at her. “If anyone should be calling the cops, it’s me.” He points back to himself. “Secondly, what are you doing in my house?”

“Your house?” Her voice drips with confusion as her brow furrows.

“Yes my house.” He echoes, emphasizing his ownership. She continues to frown.

“Well if it’s your house, you would know I’m renting your guest house for the next four weeks.” She crosses her arms defiantly, confusion and fear gone as she challenges him.

“What are you talking about?” Now it’s Dean’s turn to be confused. He’s never rented the guest house out, nor would he ever.

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TGH

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#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean imagine #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester fic #the guest house

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deanbrainrotwritings · 7 months

Text

— CITY GROWN WILLOW

SUMMARY : in which dean doesn’t die in 15.20 and he’s a stay-at-home dad (hot as hell) and the reader works at a company (vague as hell).

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : dylan (OMC), andy (OMC), daphne (OFC)

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), smut, pregnant sex, oral sex, fluff, ANGST, sexual harassment

WORD COUNT : 7.1K

A/N : title from radio company’s song. I wrote this while rewatching the Winchesters 😭 god, I miss dean so bad. also, I edited this while watching she-hulk when it was airing. anyway, enjoy this long masterpiece since I’ve been neglecting y’all :( X

Y/N chuckled softly at her colleague Dylan. He’d been a good friend for two and a half years. Ever since he started to work for her, he’d been really helpful and cooperative, taking the lead when she wasn’t there to make sure everything was still as it should be.

They had a meeting to talk about a project he wanted to speak to her about and Y/N had accepted his request to hear him out. She was a little confused by the fancy place he’d chosen, but she’d gone anyway and left Dean with the twins and Mavis. He’d whined and pouted adorably before kissing her goodbye even though he knew days before she’d be busy that night.

She’d been nervous for a month. And yeah, maybe she accepted Dylan’s offer because she didn’t want Dean to see her naked, or more.. the bump that started to show which she hid beneath loose dresses like the current black kimono dress her best friend Daphne got her for Christmas.

She made multiple excuses the whole month to not be near Dean, either in the morning or the night, when he was still awake, but she made up for it by buying him gifts and having lunch with him during his break. Innocently, no funny business. And she’d told no one she’s pregnant, as if it made it any less real that she was carrying a baby inside her when the last one she and Dean had was barely five years old.

She wasn’t sure she could handle it or that Dean could—but mostly, she didn’t think she could.

So, she declined the red wine Dylan ordered for her—which irritated her a little because he knew she never drank in the first place. And she didn’t make a big deal out of it, chalked it up to his busy mind forgetting, and slowly started to eat her meal while listening to him talk about things that had nothing to do with work. She let him talk about whatever he wanted to because the more time she wasted at the restaurant with him, the less chance she had of seeing Dean—well, the less chance she had to spend the whole night lying to him about the fact that she was pregnant.

Dylan relaxed a little against the booth, but she remained tense, her mind racing about the thought of her being pregnant but also about how to tell Dean. That’s how she’d spent most of her month. Her mind was someplace else, but her body was still in reality, automatically being attentive so no one would ask her what was wrong. Although, she may have missed the hints Dylan had been throwing her way, comments about how she looked more beautiful than usual, and how she was the perfect woman a man could ask for.

She’d shrugged it off the way she usually did, not really wanting to deal with the fact that her friend was literally flirting with her. Mostly, not wanting to accept that the only reason he got close to her was because he had romantic feelings for her, knowing in full that she was married and had kids. But especially not wanting to think too hard about the way he’s tried touching her, knowing she was married, but also, knowing that she didn’t like to be touched. And though she should have paid more attention, should have talked to Dylan directly instead of saying ‘stop’ or ‘no’, after she recoiled from his touch and shoved him off of her when he’d go for it again with a little more force… she didn’t think she needed to say more since she had made it clear that his advances were undesired on her part.

When she dumped work and projects on him so he could take half of what she had on her plate—a clear sign that he was just a colleague and a friend to her, she’d imagined he’d hate her. Instead, he took it as her wanting to spend time with him. Even though when he got her to talk, all she could talk about was Dean and her kids. When he’d make unpleasant comments about Dean’s job or the way Dean dressed, she’d defend her husband with a little confusion and ferocity while Dylan just laughed it off and claimed he was joking.

If she thought about it too hard, it hurt so bad on top of the fact that she was too stressed with being in charge of the Space Technology and Exploration section of Morningstar Industries, making sure her kids were doing good in school and knowing she was present in their lives, but also making sure she wasn’t fully neglecting her wonderful husband who truly didn’t deserve that she was lying to him.

Then, she’d been afraid for a while when she’d spoken to the board director, Andy, her close friend, and blurted out how uncomfortable Dylan had been making her feel with his words and his actions. He’d stared at her worriedly, anger darkening his eyes which she’d nearly missed, and then she forgot about it in between all her work and the mess in her brain.

But it all seemed so much worse at night. When she’d return from work, when she’d cry in the shower, and then laid in bed with her mind racing endlessly so she’d wake up as exhausted as she’d been before she slept.

There were too many things and her temper was short, overstimulated by all the tiny things that she could usually handle a little better than she had recently. And she dreaded to think of the possibility that she’d hurt Dean’s feelings, or Wanda’s, or Bruce’s, or Mavis’. And she worried about having done something wrong when she signed off on projects or something else because she simply wasn’t retaining the information on the endless sheets of paper.

She even had a copious amount of work and projects that she left half-finished, which was mostly normal, but it had now piled up to being too much, and when Dylan offered to help her, he’d been like a hero to her. He took most of the weight, but clearly expected something from her that she was never going to give.

When he’d finished and she’d abandoned her plate of food, only capturing the first and last topic he’d spoken of—which was typical as well—she’d smiled at him tightly. She was so good at pretending she’d listen because she usually could. Typically, she missed a few bits and pieces of information—since her mind went off to think of something to add to what the other person said, where she’d stop herself outwardly, but internally continued her own monologue and completely forgot about what the person was saying, which was never her intention.

Dylan leaned forward slightly, his eyes suddenly different, his soft and slightly moist hand landing on top of hers—specifically the one that had the white gold wedding band and engagement ring Dean picked out. She froze, stared into his icy blue eyes with her breath caught in her throat, suddenly all her thoughts were silent, but just for a moment before they started up again thinking of all the things this could mean.

“I didn’t just want to talk about work…” he started, his soft voice made her stomach churn and she didn’t know if it was the fact that she was pregnant, stressed, if it was the food she partially ate, or simply the disgust she felt knowing where this was going. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together and I.. well, I always thought you were breathtaking and.. I think you feel the same about me… you know? I.. I’m in love with you…”

She had to swallow the bit of bile that raised up her oesophagus, sweat breaking out on her hairline, her heart beating fast. She moved her hand out from under his and his cheek twitched with irritation when she reached for her glass of icy water and downed all of it. The cold liquid swished around her insides and she felt too suffocated, grateful that people were mostly quiet, that the tables were separated from each other, and that the lights were mostly dim because she would have had a fit and left dramatically from overstimulation.

He cleared his throat and she looked up from the white cloth that covered the table, his long dirty blond hair fell over one half of his face and he chuckled nervously, reaching over to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I’m married,” she reminded him lamely, recoiling at his touch. His hand froze midair and he wrapped it around her wrist where her electronic watch rested. He played with the magnet of the steel band and scooted forward across the table until she could smell the wine in his breath.

She really had been so oblivious all this time.

When the watch turned on to reveal a picture of Dean carrying both Wanda and Bruce when she’d given birth to them, he glared at it. Guilt from lying to Dean and shame from having missed all the signs of harassment burned up her throat to the tips of her ears.

“Lots of married people have affairs,” he commented offhandedly. Her lips parted in shock, her brain moving slowly when he slid around the booth to sit next to her. Her heart nearly jumped out of her chest, fearful when his hand appeared on her knee, his thumb brushing against the inside of her thigh.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out. He froze, staring at her in surprise, but he had something for that too somehow. While she felt a sense of relief saying it out loud, the fear that had frozen her in her seat still hadn’t dissipated.

“That’s not a problem,” he said calmly, leaning forward, but she moved back until his hand stopped her by covering the back of her neck to pull her towards him again. “People can still have sex when they’re pregnant.. Stop playing hard to get, I know you want me.” Suddenly all her weakening emotions flew out of her body until anger boiled over her blood. She got up abruptly and glared at him, shoving the table into him, trapping him from escaping and also making her neglected wine glass tip over to stain his suit in red. “What the fuck?!” He hissed angrily, failing to even budge the table away from his body.

“I’ve told you over and over again not to touch me,” she spat, “and if the way I always moved away from you wasn’t a fucking obvious sign that you disgust me, I hope this helps: you’re fucking fired.” She picked up her bag and shoved the chair she’d been sitting in with the back of her knees until it nearly fell over. Suddenly people looked at them and Dylan looked away from her, smiling as if everything was okay, but there was anger in his eyes when he looked up at her.

“You liked it, you whore,” he growled, shame wrenched her heart and tears pooled in her eyes, “stop victimising yourself when you’ve been leading me on for two years.” Instead of saying anything, her tongue heavy in her mouth, she turned quickly and made her way out of the restaurant. His words stabbed her chest until she couldn’t breathe because she suddenly felt like she should have done so much more to stop him and she began imagining all the times she’d shrugged him off but should have been more clear and assertive about not wanting his touch.

Maybe it was her fault after all and she shouldn’t be complaining.

“Miss!” A woman’s voice stopped her as she shoved the glass door open, a sob tearing its way out of her throat when the cold air pricked her hot skin. “Are you okay, dear?” The lady asked softly, keeping a safe distance as Y/N cried quietly, looking at the ground in shame and embarrassment. “Honey, pass me your handkerchief,” she ordered and footsteps came closer and Y/N only felt the soft cotton collect and absorb her hot tears.

“I need to get home,” Y/N whispered, trying to smile, but she knew not a muscle in her face relaxed as she looked at the older woman and her husband.

“You shouldn’t be driving right now,” her husband spoke up worriedly. Y/N glanced over at him and felt another wave of pain pour through her eyes with heat and salty stings just from the kindness that seemed to crack and burst out all the emotions she’d been pushing down for a month.

“Oh, darling,” the woman spoke softly, gently taking Y/N’s purse from her tight grip and fishing her phone out easily. “Is this your husband?” She quickly accessed Y/N’ contacts and went to the emergency list with Dean’s name at the top, with a squirrel and a green leaves emojis. Y/N nodded, embarrassed, and took the handkerchief with the initials H.H. to wipe her own tears even though now, she couldn’t stop them from spilling uncontrollably.

While Y/N continued to look down in shame, people walked around them, minding their business. Even people who clearly saw the scene were exiting the restaurant and ignoring them, too. She relaxed when the woman’s expensive and warm perfume engulfed her, reminding Y/N of her mother when she rubbed her gentle hand up and down her back. Y/N’ phone rang once and Dean picked up.

“Sweetheart?” His voice was deep with sleep and warmth melted her heart and sweetened the bitterness when the sound flowed to her heart like honey and tea, but the tears kept falling as she cried silently in the woman’s arms.

“Hi, I’m Jan,” she started but Dean immediately cut her off.

“Where’s my wife?” She heard the panic and guardedness in his voice and she nearly took the phone knowing all the worst possible scenarios that rushed through his mind, but the woman smiled fondly.

“I’m here with her,” Jan reassured him. “Could you come pick her up? She’s…” Jan gazed at Y/N, her gaze piercing her walls as if she knew everything but also, failing to find the words to not invalidate or exaggerate Y/N’s experience and emotions. “You should be here. My husband and I are staying here with her and we won’t leave her side until you’ve here, she’s safe with us. You have my word.”

Dean was silent and Y/N didn’t know if he was frozen in fear like she’d been minutes before or if he was leaving the house in a hurry until heard him thank Jan while breathing heavily and heard the familiar creak of the Impala’s doors before he said goodbye, promising to be there as quickly as he could.

And he did. But not fast enough to have witnessed Dylan shamelessly try to get to her. But Y/N was glad he didn’t because she was humiliated enough already and felt so much gratitude towards both Jan and her husband. Her husband, Harry, who had shoved and insulted Dylan, then threatened to plaster his name in the paper for what he’d witnessed him doing.

The beautiful rumble of Dean’s car made her heart leap with relief and excitement, fleeting emotions that were replaced with the same bitter ones when she saw him in his pyjamas, the bags under his eyes, and the worry that deepened his frown and creased between his brows when he saw that she had been crying.

Dean quickly jogged towards her, looking at both Jan and Harry with confusion and wariness until Jan slowly let Y/N walk weakly towards Dean. Jan’s heart was both breaking and melting when Y/N slumped against Dean’s body, crying again—as hard as she had when she stepped out of the restaurant.

Dean held her tight, kissed her temple and let her calm down in his embrace. The kind couple stepped forward like a wall that gave them privacy from the few people that watched what was happening. The tiredness Dean felt was replaced with adrenaline, but upon finding Y/N safe from physical harm, he allowed himself to just be there for her, hurting about the fact that something else had harmed her, something that he couldn’t kill or fight off.

“Let’s get her in your car, son,” Harry suggested, smiling kindly at Dean. Dean nodded and hesitantly pulled away, refusing to look at the anguish on Y/N’ face so he could remain strong. He let Jan guide Y/N into the passenger seat, keeping an ear open for the way she spoke quietly and kindly to Y/N before he spoke to Harry.

“What happened?” Dean asked, the feeling of inadequacy making him cross his arms over his chest, covering the white t-shirt Y/N had given him as a joke a few Christmases ago.

“I…” Harry paused, glancing over at his wife and at Y/N. “A man she was having dinner with just.. treated her terribly and said such horrendous things. My wife and I heard most of it… He was out of line, completely disgusting, and was a huge, immature asshole.” Dean’s jaw clenched and he glared over Harry’s shoulder, behind holes into the glass building. Had Dean been Superman, the entire building would have been demolished. “Son?” Harry broke Dean’s glare and patted his shoulder. “I could have that man’s reputation destroyed. When your wife opens up, give her time.. give me a call.” He handed Dean a card and Dean took it nodding while he read Harry Holden, the newspaper name, his email, and number on the other side.

“Thanks, sir, truly,” Dean finally told him, getting in the driver’s seat and waving goodbye to the two people that gave him hope that there were truly kind people out there, people who still do the bare minimum and also go out of their way to do something good just for the sake of decency.

Y/N played with her dress and avoided Dean’s gaze, flinching a little when he put his hand on her knee. Dean felt hurt for a second, then composed himself as he drove away, deciding quickly that they should stay somewhere else for the time being, until she felt better.

He stopped at a rather expensive hotel and saw her finally look at him, confused mostly by his decision. Her face devastated his heart more than any tragedy he’d faced because he wasn’t used to seeing Y/N the way she looked now. His heart sank to the deepest pit as if turning his skin inside out, leaving his heart bare and broken until it stopped beating, unable to start up again.

“D…” she whispered. Her cold hands on his face brought him back to his senses, thoughts about his actions ran through his mind and suddenly he found himself synchronised with her.

“I’m calling Daph,” he told her, shoving his hands into his pockets and calling Daphne who picked up nearly as quickly as he had, tiredness coating her voice along with a yawn. “Hey, I need to ask for a favour,” he started.

“Sure, Dean-o,” she mumbled.

“Could you check on the kids?” He asked, then elaborated. “Y/N and I are… we’re gonna be away from home for a few days.. is that asking too much? I’m sorry, I know it’s sudden-”

“Dean, don’t stress about it,” she reassured him. “I’ll be there in ten, you don’t have to explain, you know I’d do anything for the two of you.” Dean sighed a breath of relief and relaxed, too afraid to look at Y/N.

“Thanks so much, you’re… the best friend we could ask for.”

“Don’t mention it. Love you guys, be safe!”

Dean sat in silence for a while before taking his wallet and pulling out his card to pay for the room. Y/N let him take control of the situation even though she wanted to argue and not be far from home, but maybe she needed this. A little getaway with her husband to finally tell him she was pregnant and to ease his mind about what had happened because now that she was calm, she felt ridiculous and ashamed.

“Come on, baby, take your heels off,” he spoke softly, leaning over to open the door before he locked the car. He got out and jogged around the front to get to her side, opened the door and picked her up bridal style.

Dean made his way to the hotel and smiled at the young man at the front desk, tucking Y/N’ head into his neck, her arms holding him tightly as he made his way to the elevator without a word and to their room, both of them practically empty-handed with her purse dangling off his shoulder.

“I wanna shower,” she murmured when he set her down on the bed. He only turned the lamps on so it wasn’t too bright and she appreciated it. He nodded and started to undo the belt around her waist, taking note of her tense body, so he slowed down and stopped unbuttoning the dress.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, waiting for her to speak up before he made a single move. She nodded and whispered her consent, letting him unbutton the black dress all the way, pushing it off her shoulders, his eyes glued to the thin, gold necklace her brother gave her on her birthday.

He expertly unclasped her lace bra, his fingers brushing gently across her skin made her shiver pleasantly as he removed it. His eyes fell to her breasts but he kept his mind out of the gutter, watched her put her hands flat on the bed and lift her hips for him to remove her matching black panties.

It was so intimate. He inadvertently turned both of them on.

His fingernails gently grazed the skin of her hips, their breaths growing heavy, his fingers slowly pulled the lace down her legs and off her feet. He didn’t dare to make anything sexual, as much as he wanted to fuck his worry and adrenaline away, he was being more mindful of what she needed.

He helped her up and didn’t stare at her naked body when he removed his shirt and pyjamas, only a little embarrassed that he wasn’t wearing any boxers. He led her to the bathroom as he warmed up the shower, his hand extended to get the water to the right temperature. She bit her lip anxiously in the meantime, her arms keeping her small bump out of view, tears building up again when he turned to face her.

His face fell and his beautiful hands were on her face, holding her jaw as gently as he’d hold a baby bird. His arms wrapped around her small frame, holding her close, comforting her with his arms loose around her waist to not overwhelm her. She felt a powerful surge of love and affection for the man and blurted out what had been stressing her out.

“I’m pregnant.” He gasped and pulled away to look her in the eyes and then down at the tiny little bump on her stomach that he missed when stripping her. “I’m sorry, I’ve known for a month and I’m just scared-”

“It’s okay, baby,” he reassured her, shushing her.

“No, I… I’ve been a horrible wife,” she sobbed, wiggling out of his arms. He easily let her go to have her space, keeping his own tears at bay while watching her with despair.

“No, you haven’t,” he argued softly.

“Yeah and a bad mother. Everything’s my fault.” He shook his head, kissing her cheek softly, his lips moving over the expanse of her face, reaching her lips for his final destination.

“I’m thrilled that you’re pregnant, okay? I truly am.” He reassured her. “And I know how stressful it can be for you to be pregnant and I know how much you worry about me and the kids, but we can handle it, sweetheart.” She continued to cry quietly, his thumbs gently wiping away her tears. “They love you so much, I love you so much, and you’re the most amazing mother they could have asked for, just like you’re the most amazing wife in the entire universe, hell maybe the best out of every universe.”

“Whatever happened tonight sweetheart… I’m so sorry. I…” he sighed, pressing his forehead against hers, his eyes shut as he breathed shakily.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered, taking his breaded jaw in her hand to kiss him chastely. “I think I was just overreacting… my hormones, you know how they get… wonky,” she tried smiling, pulling away to watch him shake his head.

“If two people watched what happened and took time out of their night to help you, you weren’t overreacting,” he told her firmly. “I know you usually deal with things by dissociating or detaching from it and downplaying your feelings, but I’m not letting you do that. Just like you don’t let me do it.” She blinked at him, feeling a new wave of emotions followed by gratitude and love. “We don’t need to talk about it right now and there’s no deadline, but just talk to someone—or me when you’re ready, instead of pushing it down or invalidating yourself from how hurt you are about it.” He smiled at her gently, lovingly kissing her forehead and stepped into the shower, while holding her hand so she’d join him as she regained most of her wits.

“I love you, Dean,” she whispered, feeling like those words simply weren’t enough to describe the amount of affection that bloomed in her chest like a trillion galaxies being born.

“I know,” he smiled playfully, holding her close when she followed him inside the foggy stall. She smiled softly at him and shook her head, standing beneath the shower head with him, the hot water comforting as it hit her skin and relaxed her muscles.

He took care of her the whole time, wiping away the eyeliner that was now messy, but otherwise her face was bare, the red liquid tint on her lips having faded away at this point, leaving her lips a cotton candy colour. He smiled lovingly at her, leaning down to kiss her passionately before he washed her hair and then her body while keeping himself mostly dry.

“There,” he chuckled, bumping the bottom of her chin gently with his finger curled. “Good girl,” he murmured, turning the shower off, reaching out for one of the towels to wrap around her, letting her dry herself off so he could do the same to himself.

“Thanks,” she smiled at him tiredly, drying her hair with the towel and stepping back into the bedroom, standing in front of him when he slipped on his pyjama pants again, and handed her his shirt to sleep in. The white shirt with The Avongers and bootleg Avengers characters over the chest made her smile and she watched him get the bed ready.

His muscles flexed when he tugged the soft sheets from how tightly they fit the bed, his tiny waist and his broad shoulders when he turned his back to her distracted her from putting the shirt on. Instead, she checked him out, his firm ass in the soft pyjama pants, the muscles in his back moving beneath his skin, the dip of his spine down his back one of the most beautiful things she’d seen. When he turned to his side, his stomach--just a little soft--became taut with his efforts, lost in his mind as he freed the gold and white satin sheets.

His huge arms continued to tighten as he travelled to the other side of the bed, the v-line going down his hips caused her teeth to bite down at her lip. Even his pecs right now were doing wonders, his thick fingers wrapping around the sheets and tugging expertly that she didn’t even care that she was staring at him shamelessly, the ring on his finger was probably the hottest thing right now.

That was her husband.

The man who grew out his beard, something she thought she’d hate until the coarse hairs actually ended up feeling arousing between her legs and against her breasts. The man who kept his hair a little longer just for her, soft between her fingers and so pullable. The way the soft strands of his honey-coloured hair fell over his magnificent face looked like streams of sunlight in the spring, his mossy green eyes likes a forest of utter beauty that no one could compare to, and his freckles were a thousand constellations that glowed like gold dust along the canvas of his face.

His pretty plump lips were a shade darker now from having bitten them due to his focus on releasing the sheets from the tight embrace around the mattress, and wet from his soft tongue. He’d innocently looked up at her, expecting her to have been ready for bed, but instead he found her aroused, her cheeks pink and her nipples tight, her breathing heavy and short.

He caught her eyes as they teased his body, a shaky breath making its way past her parted lips, the most breathtaking crinkles appeared around his eyes when he chuckled, gracing her with a shy smile. “What?” He asked softly, pink flushing his cheeks up to the tips of his ears.

“You know it always turns me on to see you do anything, especially shirtless,” she murmured casually, feeling no confidence to actually tease him the way she usually did and feeling disgusted with herself from the events that unfolded in the past month to even feel any pleasure from him. So she looked away and was about to put his shirt on when he stopped her.

“Don’t.” He made his way to her, grabbing the shirt and throwing it across the room and onto the couch a few feet away from them.

“I haven’t shaved,” she gasped, kissing him back when he pressed his lips against hers, soft and warm. He quickly parted his lips to deepen the kiss. His tongue teasingly moved into her mouth when she’d opened up to him instantly despite her weak argument, knowing that Dean wasn’t the type of man who actually required a woman to look a specific way.

He wrapped his arm around her waist to hold her close, a little moan from him muffled by her mouth against his. She gave into him without hesitation, her arms circling around his neck, her fingers tugging gently at the short hairs behind his head, soft the way they always were. An appreciative hum rumbled in his chest, her entire body stretched up to reach her tall husband.

He turned them both around so her back faced the bed instead of his, pulling away from the kiss for his lips to travel down her neck. His hot breath and wet tongue licked at her clean skin and sucked gently at her pulse. He made his way down her neck and bit her shoulder possessively. She buried her fingers into his downy hair, closing her eyes, her chest rising and falling quickly from lustful breaths she took.

He loosened his arms from around her waist and held the beautiful curve of it in his large hands, his fingers brushing gently against her ribcage. He moved his mouth down to her breasts, and she instinctively arched her back so he didn’t have to bend over her so much. It turned him on, in his mind, that one move was her offering herself to him completely.

He moved his hands up to cup her breasts in his hands, the warmth and roundness of them in his large palms nearly made him believe she was small chested. His fingers gently brushed around her nipples, his warm breath puffing over them so she could feel them tighten before he even did anything. His lips wrapped around one, his teeth gently scraping along her sensitive flesh while his tongue mimicked his fingers, feeling the texture of her silky flesh against his wet tongue.

He sucked on it gently, his hands squeezed both her breasts, but he quickly pinched and tweaked the other one, reaching down to squeeze her fleshy ass. She moaned softly, her thigh gently passing between his legs and rubbing his stiff cock. A moan rippled out of him and he blindly chased her hand when he switched the stimulation of her breasts, putting his mouth on the other and letting the room temperature do its work on her glistening nipple.

He guided her hand into his pants, biting down roughly on her flesh when she brushed her fingers down the length of him. She whined at the bite, rubbing her thighs together awkwardly to feel some relief, his heavy cock resting in her small hand. She wanted to be doing this to him, touching him teasingly for all the neglect he endured on her side.

She tugged at his hair once, moving both of her hands to his hips and lowered his pyjamas so they slipped down his legs easily. Before she could do anything more, he stepped out of them and dropped to his knees, his lips kissing down between her breasts, over her growing belly and finally to her pelvis.

She cupped his jaw and moved his gaze away from between her legs, an embarrassed look on her face because she usually kept herself either completely shaved or trimmed. He grabbed her hand and kissed her wrist to ease her unsteadiness. He then moved her hands away from his jaw and onto his head so he could taste her, so she could pull at his hair.

He gently pushed her thighs apart with the backs of his hands, only slightly. He moved forward experimentally, the curly hairs tickling his nose and she felt embarrassed the whole time, her grip on his hair tightening and she looked away when heat grew up her neck to the tips of her ears. The last time she was that bushy, she was in university and completely uninterested in romance, but ever since Dean—despite him never asking for it—she would shave. And despite him never showing or voicing a preference, she never stopped doing it.

Dean liked it. Right now, like this.

His fingers parted her warm folds and he found her clit easily. A hissed curse slipped past her lips when his tongue flicked against it, teasingly lapping up and down. She moved back until her knees hit the bed and his eyes were glued on her every move. He disappointedly licked his lips but excitement reignited the flame in his green eyes when she laid down and spread her legs for him.

Usually her stomach would cave in when she laid down on her back, but this time, the tiny bump remained and his heart softened, crawling forward to kiss her knees. He lifted her feet up on the bed, staring between her legs and parting her folds with his fingers, licking away at her clit and her entrance.

He watched her writhe under his mouth the way she always did when he teased her. He knew it wasn’t strange to find it arousing. This was his woman, his love, his wife.

He squeezed her thighs with his warm hands, moaning softly against her centre which made her laugh softly. He pulled away from her, smiling at the sound, “move up, angel,” he ordered gently as he stood up. She obeyed quietly, stopping only when he firmly wrapped his fingers around her ankle, his thumb brushing against the protruding bone.

He moved forward, picking up the pillows above her head with the intention of elevating her hips. She instantly knew what he had planned and lifted her hips so he could slide them under her hips, stacked and cushiony. “Ready?” He asked softly, making his way between her legs.

She nodded, gasping when he swiped three fingers from her entrance to her folds, only to bring them to his cock. She blinked at him, turned on when he bit his lip, jerking himself slowly with her arousal, her breath stuttering the moment he moaned. Her toes curled at the sound, her pussy clenching around nothing the way it always did when she so much as looked his way. It didn’t even have to be a sexual situation, which she found embarrassing, and she had never admitted it to him.

He guided his cock to her entrance, smiling down at her way too adorably while the soft head of his cock circled her soaked centre. He gently pushed himself into her and back out, her walls took him in slowly, wetting his dick more and more. He looked between her legs completely unabashed, his lip trapped between his teeth as he watched himself disappear inside her as if he hadn’t seen her take him a thousand other times before.

Still, he was fascinated with how he stretched her open, her tiny cunt opening up to fit all of him the way it always did. She was tight and warm, completely soaking him with every push and pull of his cock, letting her feel every inch of him entering her, but also letting him revel in the velvet walls squeezing around him and creating quick pleasure to his cock.

“Fuck,” he whispered, bottoming out inside her. He bit his lip, his eyes trailing up her body and back down to where he was connected to her, gently pushing his hips into her, his thumb easily finding her clit within the dark curls.

“What?” She asked softly, studying his face, laughter in her eyes when his eyes snapped up to hers innocently.

“You’ve never felt more mine than right now, baby,” he murmured, slowly pulling out of her and then back inside before she could respond to him. As much as he wanted to take his time with her, he knew she would be exhausted tomorrow from her emotions tonight, so he went straight for getting her off. His thumb rubbing gently at her sensitive clit, changing the shapes he made every once in a while until she orgasmed.

The feeling of her walls squeezing his cock drew a deep groan from within his chest. His cock was coated in her cum when he pulled out of her, and his own release followed suit when he pushed back into her warmth. He cursed long and softly, brows drawn together in pleasure as she clung to him, both of them riding the seemingly endless pleasure like gravitational waves after the collision of neutron stars.

Her nails dug marks into his soft skin and she gently released him, watching the exquisite look on his face. The rapture that made her insides tighten deliciously. His lips were parted still, completely breathless. His cheeks were pink and his whole body was hot, covered in a nearly unnoticeable amount of sweat.

He was so beautiful.

“You actually like it?” She asked, flustered when he pulled out of her, their cum oozing out of her, only for him to gently shove a finger into her to keep his cum inside. She clenched around him, familiar with him doing that after he came inside her, which was definitely a reason why she was pregnant so soon.

“What?” He shrugged casually, pulling the pillows from beneath her hips and throwing them carelessly against the headboard. “Yes, okay? Maybe you should let it grow sometimes. It’s hot.” He grinned, leaning over her to kiss her forehead before he stood up to clean her, but also to get the shirt he’d intended for her to wear and to put his pyjama pants on again.

“I think you’re the only one who thinks that,” she called out. It was silent for a few moments as the water from the sink ran in the bathroom loudly and Dean came back with a hand towel and moved between her legs again.

“No, Charlie liked it too,” he revealed, a little smirk on his face when she chuckled. He started to clean her up, gazing down at her in his shirt now, looking completely adorable and comfortable. “And I’m pretty sure more people like it,” he reassured her, playful patting the top of her head. She narrowed her eyes at him despite thinking it felt cute and smiled. She watched him get up to clean himself and discard the towel before returning to her side.

He fixed the pillows on the bed and turned the lamps off so they could lie down and fall asleep comfortably.

He snuck his hand under her shirt, tickling her a little when he rested his hand over her tummy, something he’d always do when she was pregnant. “Wanna pick names?” He asked quietly, scooting so close to her while on his side, he almost reminded her of Bruce, who usually curled up at her side trying to get impossibly close to her.

“Sure,” she smiled softly in the darkness.

“How about Castiel?” He suggested a name immediately and she cringed, chuckling.

“No, Garth already named his kid Castiel,” she told him, which caused him to laugh softly.

“How about… Cassidy?”

“You want a name that starts with C?” She asked, then took his silence and the little nod by her shoulder as a sign for her to give him some examples of what she had in mind. “Like… Casanova? No, Calvin? No, wait, Cara? Caroline? Or Cassian? Casper? Nah, I’m just kidding about that one. Clark? Uh, Casimiro?” She offered, shrugging a little at the end with an amused grin, his hand slowly rubbing along the small curve of her stomach.

“Definitely not Casanova,” he chuckled and she shrugged, laughing. “Ah, right,” he clicked his tongue and she stared at him lovingly. “Cassidy sounds dumb… I’m just gonna ignore Casper. And what the fuck is a Casimiro? I like Clark for a boy and… we can come up with more names for a girl…” She smiled and hummed softly. “I hope we get to have Bruce and Clark, heheh,” he commented cutely.

“You’re so adorable,” she mumbled with a smile, kissing the top of his head. She closed her eyes while trying to picture what her next child will look like. Dean blushed, nuzzling her lovingly as sleep reclaimed him, thinking the same thing as her.

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