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he’s such a nickname abuser. ‘pretty girl’ and ‘sweetheart’ are his go-to, but sometimes he switches to more cheesier terms of endearment to call you in front of other people just to embarrass you—pookie, munchkin, shnookums? yes! and hes loud about it too! this is my official statement that in another universe dean would pair extremely well with a shy, quiet reader. he’d love pulling her out of her comfort zone with his silly antics.
as his girlfriend, you’re entitled to receive random pecks and kisses all the time. i’m talking all the time. if you’re watching a movie together and he’s feeling a little neglected, he’ll grab your arm and kiss the entire length of it, not missing an inch, until you cuddle him. if you’re standing in line for something, he’ll be reading instructions while leaving kisses on your temple and in your hair. if you’re hanging out with friends and you’re on the couch while he’s sitting between your legs, he’ll be kissing your thighs the whole time until you gently kick him to stop.
he finds a random mic and sings you cheesy love songs when you’re having bad days, and him being so bad at it makes you laugh. dean makes it his mission not to stop until you’re laughing your ribs off and feeling better. sometimes it ends with him pulling you in to dance, or just holding you in his arms. those cuddles are your favorite because there’s so much love and safety in them. he’s genuinely the only person who can lighten your mood immediately with his stupid jokes, stupid kisses, and stupid big arms.
he’s a sniffer, and he would die and come back for the scent of your body. he perks up immediately, gorgeous green eyes finding yours the second he smells that coconut and vanilla scent in a packed room. he has a dramatic habit of randomly sniffing all over you and pretending like he’s high off it. it doesn’t matter if you’re alone or with other people. if you’re laying down together or hugging, his nose is immediately buried in your hair.
he cherishes your routines together. morning routines where he lets you shower first while he stays in bed for a couple extra minutes, then he goes after, and you brush your teeth together while he gets dressed and fixes his hair, and you do the same in front of the counter you’ve definitely used for more than just getting ready. eating breakfast together. post-dinner walks where he tangles your hands together. cooking dinner on friday nights—well, you do most of the cooking while he cleans and does basic prep, because if he’s in charge, you’re definitely eating burnt food. and the nightly gossip sessions, both of you with face masks on, leaning on your elbows facing each other. he makes you smile so much with all the locker room gossip your cheeks hurt, and you tell him campus rumors while he lets out theatric gasps.
besides physical touch and quality time, his love language is definitely gift giving. mention one thing one time, and boom—you have it next day or for a special occasion. he never runs out of gift ideas. it ranges from material things to more meaningful ones, like love letters he gets embarrassed about giving you.
to conclude, dean would be an amazing boyfriend. he’d be loyal and fully devoted to you. in his eyes, you would be the girl for him.
✶ notary nsfw content. hello world.... i am back with a small drabble that i wrote in 10 minutes before i upload my long ahh fic
sam winchester is the most respectful, polite and soft spoken man you've ever met. the one you would be proud to introduce to your parents. but behind closed doors? he can be a fucking menace.
your high-pitched whimpers are filling the impala. hands clawing at his arms, his hair, abs, almost everywhere, as sam's on top of you pounding himself into you so deep, you can feel him in your stomach.
your parents think you're on a movie date. i mean, he showed up on your doorstep with flowers and puppy eyes, who would not believe him? who would think that he would have you begging for mercy for an hour straight?
the windows are getting fogged up, your body is probably on it's 10th orgasm, but sam is nowhere close to stopping.
"sam-" you choke on a moan, because sam is choking you himself. his hand is tight around your throat, just enough for your world and senses to narrow to only him and nothing else. and it's working. your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, you're seeing white, you almost can't breathe but it all just feels so good.
he leans down to capture your lips into another messy kiss, filled with tongue, spit and desire. you struggle to kiss him back, because you just can't seem to stop moaning.
"look at me" he says between his own groans and whimpers.
you try. you really try to. but it's all just too much. too much pleasure. your body's almost gone numb.
"fuckin' look at me or i'll stop" he urges now, just with a hint of desperation.
that's when you got desperate. "no- please" you whimpered, fluttering your eyes open.
and god, he has never looked better. sweaty, rosy cheeks, eyes filled with lust and desire. but then a small smirk appeared on his face and before you could register anything, his second hand wraps around your throat too and he starts rocking his hips impossibly fast inside you.
dean had gone inside the gas station, surely scoping out the whole place in desperate search of the pie section in the mini bakery. which left you and sam to pass the time amongst yourselves.
it hadn’t even been a full two minutes until sam cramped himself in the backseat of the impala, practically pouncing on you against the leather seats, which quickly began to grow sticky from the shared sweat. the windows fogged, and baby’s metal frame rocked above the parking lot’s pavement. sam was balls deep inside you, rocking and grinding his hips to sheath his fat cock through your meaty walls.
“g.. god—mm, fuck, sam—” your fingers threaded through the brunette strands on his head, clutching in time with the strong clench your pussy gave him, pulling him into you in both ways. sam moaned against your lips before sealing them with his own, a low grumble vibrating from his adam’s apple as you continued to pull him down by his hair.
the mutual gush between your bodies rang in your ears and coated the seats of dean’s precious car. sam ducked his head until it was snugly tucked into the crook between your neck and shoulder, placing hot, slobbery kisses and sucking bruises on the skin of your collarbones.
sam shuddered as he came inside you, feeling his release begin to travel back to your opening and leak over the leather beneath the two of you. your lips clashed together once more as you rode out your highs, breaking with the quick sound of your mixed saliva, right as the bell to the gas station doors rang again, signaling dean’s return.
𓂅 synopsis . . . years after meeting in medical school, falling in love, and building careers together as doctors, you and matt are forced to learn how to exist as nothing more than professional co-workers who are following a quiet, but also mutual breakup. however, when you get a new boyfriend a while later, matt tells himself he’s happy for you, while concealing his struggle to bury his memory of loving you.
𓂅 contains . . . unresolved angst, heavy grief over a past relationship, implied depression/loneliness, right person wrong time trope, co-workers to lovers trope, light arguing, crying, yearning, emotional burnout, a slight plot twist at the end? some flashbacks, pet name use, but literally no happy ending lol
𓂅 written by @delilahsturniolo. do not copy, steal, or modify my works. if you are taking any inspiration from this, please ask me first before posting and credit me in your description. happy reading! :)
this is sorta proofread but not really cause i got a bit lazy so im sorry if theres some spelling or grammar mistakes :<
❝WHY CAN’T YOU COME STITCH ME UP?❞ 🫀
the fluorescent lights in the emergency room never seemed to dim. even at 8:30 in the night, the hospital was still alive and buzzing as monitors beeped steadily behind closed curtains. stretchers rolled down the polished hallways, overhead announcements echoed through the speakers every few minutes, pulling doctors and nurses in every direction at once. it was chaos, but it was the kind both you and matt had grown used to years ago.
“get another x-ray in thirty,” you said, flipping through a patient’s chart before handing it back to a nurse with a grateful smile. “thank you.” she kindly answered.
you barely had time to take two steps before another staff member caught your attention. “excuse me, doctor?” you turned around at the voice.
“room eighteen’s ct came back.” they informed you.
“i’m on my way.” you replied kindly. the busy environment around youbwas complete havoc. but it was also normal, completely normal for a workplace like this.
you rounded the corner toward radiology when another familiar figure stepped out of a patient’s room, pulling a stethoscope from around his neck.
matt. a face you recognized all too well. he looked just as exhausted as you felt, his brunette hair was slightly disheveled, sleeves rolled to his forearms, hospital badge clipped very crookedly onto his scrub top.
he glanced up from the chart in his hands. “…hey.”
“hey.” the corner of your mouth turned up slightly at the sound of his voice. you still found it comforting, it brought you a sense of warmth and relief no one else could bring you.
the exchange was automatic, comfortable, and professional like it usually had been for a while now. “how’s room twelve?” you asked him casually.
he sighed. “better than they were three hours ago.”
“that’s something.” you replied.
“yeah.” he scratched the back of his head. the conversation could’ve ended there, like most of them did these days. but, you stopped yourself before fully walking away.
“actually…” you turned back around to face him again. “are you doing anything friday night?”
he looked back up, there was the smallest pause that followed. “well, that depends.”
you smiled. “it’s my birthday.”
his expression softened almost immediately. obviously, he knew that. he could never ever even imagine himself forgetting it. “happy early birthday.” matt spoke softly.
“thanks.” you shifted the charts against your hip. “a few people from the hospital are getting dinner after the evening shift, like a little celebration…you should come, it’ll be fun.”
for a second he simply just looked at you, not searching for hidden meaning, just…surprised you’d even asked him, or wanted him to be there. “yeah.” he nodded once. “i’d like that.”
“perfect, the reservation is at 7:30, don’t be late!” you chirped out.
one corner of his mouth lifted. “i’m never late.”
you gave him a look. “…you once showed up forty minutes late to class.”
“that was years ago, and only one time!” he laughed, it slipped out of his mouth so effortlessly, it felt like a breath of fresh air.
“you literally forgot we had an exam, matt.” you raised your eyebrows at him tauntingly.
matt began to speak, “in my defense—”
“don’t.” you laughed, the sound seemed to catch both of you off guard, because for the briefest moment…it felt familiar, natural.
then another overhead alert shattered the moment. “dr. sturniolo to icu.” matt glanced toward the elevators. “welp, that’s me.”
“see you friday.” you cleared your throat awkwardly, the tension was so thick you could slice it with a knife.
“see you.” matt took one last glance at you before walking off. you watched him disappear down the hallway before turning back toward your own patient. however, neither of you noticed the nurse at the station smiling to herself. she’d worked there long enough to remember when the two of you practically lived in these hallways together.
A FEW YEARS AGO . . .
the ER had looked exactly the same, except you were both younger, residents fresh out of med school, running almost entirely on caffeine.
“you absolutely did not, matt!” your voice beamed
“I DID!!” he laughed, nudging your shoulders.
you were laughing so hard you nearly dropped the stack of patient charts in your arms. matt was beside you, carrying two coffees. “the head doctor literally asked who forgot to order the chest x-ray.” he exclaimed, tone cheery.
“because it was you who forgot!” you laughed again as he dramatically pretended to look offended by what you said, the sound of your laughter mixing with his echoed through the hallway.
a nurse passing by smiled. “you two are entirely too cheerful for people who’ve been working for over twenty hours now.”
“it’s sleep deprivation,” matt answered immediately.
“we’ve lost all sense of reality.” your response immediately followed after his. “he tried prescribing tylenol to himself before he’d even had coffee this morning,” you added.
matt gasped dramatically. “that information was confidential!”
you bumped your shoulder into his. “confidentiality doesn’t apply to your embarrassing moments.”
“i’m reporting you for bullying.” he joked, you rolled your eyes.
he handed you one of the coffees. as you took it, your fingers brushed his. it was warm, familiar. without thinking, you smiled, and he smiled right back, effortless, like it was the easiest thing in the world. because during that time, it was.
PRESENT TIME.
your pager buzzed sharply against your hip, the memory disappeared as quickly as it had come. you blinked, and just like that you were back in the hallway, back to years later, where the only thing you and matt shared anymore were patient updates, consults, and polite conversations between shifts.
A FEW DAYS LATER . . .
friday, or—your birthday, came faster than either of you expected. the restaurant is loud in the comfortable kind of way, silverware clinks against plates. someone at another table laughs too hard at a joke. candles flicker inside little glass holders, reflecting against the windows that overlook the city. it’s one of the few nights most of your friends from work have somehow managed to get the same evening off after a shift, and gather together.
you smooth down your sparkly, and elgegant dress as you stand near the front with your boyfriend, waiting for everyone else to arrive. “you nervous?” he asks, lacing his fingers through yours.
“a little.” you smile awkwardly.
“what? because i’m meeting everyone?”
“yep.”
he laughs. “i’ll survive.” before you can answer, the restaurant door opens.
matt walks in, he still carries himself exactly the same. his hands are tucked into the pockets of his coat. his eyes slightly tired from another twelve-hour shift, and his hair a little messy from the wind. he spots the group first, and then he spots you. he smiles politely, “happy birthday.”
“thanks for coming.” your eyes lock with him. he steps closer, except his eyes drift naturally to your hand that’s intertwined with someone else’s. just for a second, it’s almost impossible to notice, but his smile never drops.
you suddenly realize. “right—” your stomach twists. “um, matt…this is ethan, my boyfriend.”
your boyfriend smiles immediately. “i’ve heard a lot about you.”
matt looks at him, then back at you, and then offers his hand.“nice to meet you.”
ethan shakes it. “same here.”
if anyone were watching from another table, they’d never guess you and matt had once shared a tiny apartment during med school, or survived thirty-hour rotations together, or fallen asleep over textbooks on the same couch, or how many times he’s carried you from your desk to your bed when you fell asleep studying, cuddling you shortly after, or how you planned a future together. they would never know the history between you two that was now tucked away completely, as if there had never been anything there in the first place.
“come on,” someone calls from the table.
“birthday girl’s here!”
everyone starts stitting down, you end up across from matt with ethan right beside you. someone orders appetizers, someone starts telling an embarrassing story, everyone laughs, and matt laughs too.
matt asks ethan questions, like where he works, and how long you two have been together. he’s polite, he nods at every answer, he even smiles at ethan before speaking again, “take care of her.” it’s said lightly, almost jokingly.
ethan just grins. “that’s the plan.”
matt nods once. “good.” you catch his eyes for just a second. there’s warmth inside of it, laced with kindness, nothing bitter, not at all, because that’s not the kind of person matt is.
the cake arrives eventually, its your favorite kind. everyone sings, of course, you’re embarrassed and shy, blushing the entire time as ethan kisses your temple while everyone cheers dramatically.
someone whistles, someone pretends to gag, you laugh so hard you nearly knock over your water. across the table—matt smiles, a real one. you’re happy, you’re laughing, and despite everything…he still likes seeing that, it means everything to him even all these years later.
later, everyone starts splitting the bill, and hugging goodbye, and also making plans that everyone knows will probably get canceled because hospital schedules are impossible.
you go up and hug matt, it’s brief and friendly. “thanks again for coming.”
“wouldn’t ever miss your birthday.” he replies politely.
the conversation ends just as quickly as it had started with a simple, “drive safe,” and “you too,” in response. you smile, ethan wraps an arm around your shoulders as the two of you walk toward his car, you don’t look back.
matt watches you leave, and for a second, he remembers another night. with a different parking lot, a different version of you, when you two were dating.
FLASHBACK . . .
you were both so exhausted, still wearing your scrubs after a sixteen-hour day. you had been complaining about how your feet hurt while he carried your coffee for you, insisting that you were incapable of walking and drinking at the same time.
“you’re so dramatic,” he teased.
you rolled your eyes. “i just spent twelve hours saving lives, matt.”
“you also almost walked into a door because you were staring at your notes.” matt tilted his head at you playfully.
“that is unrelated!” he laughed at your response, and you smiled despite yourself, he gently leaned in to kiss you, you both closed your eyes, feeling the tension of your work day release as you just melted into each other. after matt pulled away, you both stood there under the parking lot lights, too happy to care about anything else but the two of you.
back then, the future felt so easy to tthink about, you talked about residency programs, apartments, maybe getting a dog someday. maybe a house. maybe even a family. everything was a “when,” and never an “if,” scenario.
matt remembers looking at you that night and thinking that somehow, after everything you had survived together, the hardest part was over. he didn’t know then that the hardest part would be learning how to live without you by his side.
PRESENT TIME . . .
matt snapped back into reality immediately as he waits, he always waits until everyone else leaves, it’s just a habit of his. he unlocks his car and slides into the driver’s seat before shutting the car door, the silence of the night suddenly feeling louder than ever.
for a while, he just sits there. the dashboard glows softly, the light reflecting on his face, extenuating his features. his phone buzzes suddenly, interrupting the silence, its just another one of his co-workers in the emergency department asking about tomorrow’s rounds. he ignores it.
instead…his eyes drift toward the empty passenger seat that you used to sit in, he remembers your birthday years ago, in med school, when you two were inseparable.
you’d insisted instant ramen counted as a birthday dinner because neither of you could afford anything else, you wore one of his hoodies because your apartment’s heating system was broken. he’d stolen a cupcake from the student lounge, you’d jokingly called him a criminal. he’d told you, “for you? absolutely.” you’d laughed so hard that day you’d cried.
he remembers thinking—one day, i’m going to marry her.
his chest tightens at the memory. slowly…he reaches toward the center console and opens the small compartment, inside there’s an old velvet box. he already knows it’s there, because it’s always been there. his fingers hesitate before picking it up, the box is worn now, the corners softened with time and heartbreak.
he flips it open, and a beautiful diamond ring catches the dim light from the parking lot, it was simple yet so elegant. it was exactly what you’d once pointed out in a jewelry store window years ago. ethan would never know that, he wouldn’t know as much about you as matt does.
“ehhhh….nothing huge,” you’d said that day. “i’d rather it looked like something i’d actually wear every day, simple but still pretty, y’know?”
he’d remembered, every single detail. he’d bought it three months before everything fell apart, three months before the conversations became shorter, before work consumed both of you, before exhaustion took over, before neither of you knew how to ask for what you needed anymore, before the breakup that hadn’t involved screaming, or cheating, or any sort of betrayal.
just two people who loved each other, and somehow still couldn’t make it work no matter how much you wanted it to. matt suddenly remembers the night it all ended between you guys, the worst part of it wasn’t even the words said itself, it was that it didn’t even involve screaming or yelling…it was just so full of bottled up hurt that had erupted that very night.
matt remembers that you were sitting on the kitchen floor of your guys’s apartment, still wearing your hospital badge because neither of you had even bothered changing after your shifts, there were two untouched cups of coffee on the counter, you had been waiting for him to come home.
“i don’t know how to keep doing this,” you had whispered.
matt just looked at you, exhausted. it was all he had the energy to do at that point. “doing what?”
“feeling like i’m alone while i’m with you.” the words had left your mouth before you could even think about them.
but he knew you meant them, and you knew he didn’t mean to make you feel that way. “baby, i’m trying,” he’d said quietly.
“i know you are, and i appreciate that more than ever.” you’d looked down. “but that’s the problem. i know you’re trying. i’m trying too. and somehow we’re still managing to hurt each other. i barely even see you anymore, matt. and when i do…we just argue.”
he sat beside you, but neither of you reached for the other, and for the first time in years, being close didn’t feel like enough. “do you still love me?” he asked, his voice shaking.
you’d cried before you answered, because the answer was obvious. “yes, i never stopped. i couldn’t ever stop loving you.”
his eyes closed. “i love you too, so damn much it hurts.” his voice wavered as he spoke. that specifically was what made things so difficult, the fact that neither of you stopped loving each other, you just stopped knowing how to be happy together.
you never even knew he was going to propose, that there had been a reservation at your favorite restaurant, that he’d even asked your parents for permission, that he’d spent weeks carrying this ring around because he couldn’t wait for the right moment. but there just…hadn’t been one. before he could even get on one knee, and devote his life long love to you, everything just fell apart. it never happened, the future you had planned out. he bought the ring when an anticipated forever with the woman he loved most still felt like something you both had time to reach. what he hadn’t expected, was that time would run out before he even knew it.
matt’s thumb brushes over the diamond. outside, he sees you through the windshield, ethan opens the passenger door for you, and you smile at him, you laugh about something, and then the car pulls away, its taillights disappear into traffic. matt watches until he can’t anymore. only then does the first tear fall from his eyes. he laughs once, quietly, not filled with any sort of amusement, however.
“good,” he whispers imperceptibly. “i’m glad you’re happy.” his voice breaks on the last word, he closes the ring box carefully and places it back into the compartment. not completely because he’s waiting, or that he thinks someday you’ll come back to him like he wishes you would, but because after all these years he still hasn’t figured out how to let go of the future he’d once carried in a little box. maybe he won’t ever be the cure to making you happy. and if he can’t be, at least someone else can be that person for you.
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⊹ 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐘. ── ⦂ minors are not allowed to interact.
ִ ⟡ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 ˖ dean winchester ⅋ f!reader. ❜ ࿐ ⊹ ׂ
🖊️ ❛ 𓂃 it turns out that his gun has more than just one use. content ♥︎ warnings. gunplay, rough motel sex, impact play, creampie, light bondage, strong language.
dean winchester is a horndog.
it’s no secret. it’s not something he hides. it’s a fundamental, baked-in part of his being, like his love for his car or his questionable taste in music. and you love it. you love the way his eyes darken with a specific kind of hunger that’s reserved just and only for you, the way his hands always seem to find their way to your body, no matter where you are. he loves the idea of doing just about anything with you, and you’re always, always willing to play.
right now, you can’t see the look on his face, but you can feel it. your face is pressed into the cheap motel mattress, the scent of stale fabric and him filling your senses. your hands are pulled tight behind you, his worn leather belt cinching your wrists together, the buckle digging slightly into your skin. he has you on your knees, ass in the air, completely at his mercy.
and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
your ass is on fire, a deep, pleasant throb radiating from the globes of your cheeks. they’re swollen from where he’d been smacking you, his big, rough calloused palm leaving stinging prints that were already turning into bruises. he’d fucked you just as hard, a frantic, desperate rhythm that left you breathless and seeing stars.
he hasn’t pulled out yet, but the motion has stopped. he’s just sitting back on his heels, his weight a comforting pressure on your calves, his cock still buried deep inside you. you can feel yourself clenching around him, your slick walls trying to coax another thrust out of him. your hole is sopping, utterly ruined and dripping his cum down your inner thighs in thick, milky trails.
a low chuckle rumbles through his chest. “look ‘atcha,” he growls, his voice thick with satisfaction. “so sweet and tight. took about every lil’ drop, baby.”
he finally slides out of you, and the sound is obscene, a wet, sloppy noise that makes you whine at the sudden emptiness. you feel a cool draft hit your wet skin. he stays kneeled behind you, and you know he’s just admiring his handiwork. you can picture it perfectly: his cock, slick with your wetness, a perfect white ring of his own cream still clinging to the base of the head. he’s probably got that smug, shit-eating grin on his face.
you feel his fingers tracing the edges of your hole, dipping into the slickness and teasing the swollen, sensitive flesh. he swirls a finger around, making you squirm, your hips twitching.
“still want more, huh?” he murmurs, his voice a low promise. “she’s always been so greedy.”
his fingers disappear, only to be replaced by the sharp, open-palmed smack of his hand right against your dripping cunt. the sound is wet and loud in the quiet room, a sting that has your whole body jolting.
you just groan in response, pushing your ass back towards his hand, a silent plea.
you hear a soft metallic scrape, the sound of him reaching for something on the nightstand. you assume he’s just grabbing the lube for another round, but when he comes back, what presses against you isn’t his fingers or his cock.
it’s the cool, heavy press of metal.
it’s his gun. the norinco 1911A1. the one he babies same as the impala. the one that’s always on him wherever he goes, a permanent fixture tucked into the back of his worn jeans. dean presses the tip of the barrel right against your dripping slit, the cold a stark, shocking contrast to the heat of your body.
a soft, surprised choked mewl escapes your lips. your hips jerk.
“shhh,” he whispers, his voice right by your ear. “hold still.”
he uses the barrel to nudge your folds apart, the metal sliding through your slickness. then, slowly, deliberately, he slides it in.
you let out a loud, shuddering moan. the feeling is insane. the cold steel slipping inside your hot, tight core, the weight of it, the smooth, unyielding texture. it’s wrong and dangerous and so, so, so right. he pushes it in slowly, the barrel gliding deep inside you until the front sight is pressing against your g-spot.
he didn’t put the safety on. you know he didn’t. he likes the risk, the sharp, thrilling edge of danger that makes everything feel more real, much more intense. when you started dating dean, you learned that risk wasn’t just a part of his job; it was a part of him, and it bled into everything, especially the bedroom. you didn’t just accept it; you craved it just as much as he did.
“feel good, don’t it?” he asks, his voice a low rasp.
you can only nod, your face still mashed into the pillow, your body trembling.
he takes that as his cue. he grips the handle of the gun and starts fucking you with it, his movements slow at first, pushing the barrel in and out of your tight, wet cunt. the cool metal slides against your hot inner walls, a friction that’s completely alien and unbelievably good. you start to bounce back on it, meeting his thrusts, your own hips moving in a desperate rhythm.
the sight of it turning him on.
a strangled groan rips from his throat. you hear the frantic, slick sound of his hand wrapping around his own cock. he’s watching you. watching his gun disappear inside of you, watching you ride it, watching his cum drip from your overused hole. he starts jerking off, his pace rough and frantic, his breaths coming in harsh, ragged pants.
he’s fucking you with his gun and fucking himself with his hand, and the sheer, filthy depravity of it all sends you hurtling over the edge. your orgasm hits you like a lightning strike, a violent, all-consuming wave that makes your whole body seize, your inner walls clenching hard around the cold steel buried inside you.
your scream is muffled by the mattress, but dean hears it, and it’s all he needs to tip him over to the edge. his body locks up, a sharp curse bitten off as he cums hard, his hot seed spilling over his stomach and onto the sheets, just as your limbs give up, a trembling, satisfied mess.
you sat on the couch with your boyfriend and his dogs, eating late night snacks while watching a movie as neither of you could sleep, and the one you had seen in theaters was finally out on digital. so you made the executive decision to watch it.
it was nearing the end when you had finished your snack of choice, and jaime was on the last few bites of his yogurt. you always found it odd how he ate it with a plastic fork; and his utensil of choice is probably why you caught a glimpse of some leftover yogurt on his bottom lip, failing to have been caught by his tongue.
you smiled to yourself at the quick thought that had popped up into your mind, before slowly surging towards his side of the couch.
you had your legs over his lap at first, now crossing them and pushing yourself over the space that separated you to meet up with his face. then you poked your tongue out, licking up the stray yogurt from his lip, watching it softly recoil from how quick you had done it.
you settled back into your spot as your boyfriend turned with a confused look of flared nostrils and the start of a laugh forming on his mouth. “wha- what was that for?”
and all you responded with was: “yogurt.” with a quick point to your own mouth before focusing back on the tv screen. which left jaime with a pink tint to his cheeks as he smiled at you, and your cute little way of cleaning him up.
... baths ... healthy snacks ... getting told 'you're too little for that' ... braided hair ... maintenance spanks ... chore chart ... bedtime routines ... cumming on his fingers ... limited caffeine ... pussy inspections ... rewards for being sweet ... cycle syncing ...
... ☆ ... DOCTOR SAM who has your to-do list synched in his phone and texts you how proud he is with each item you check off. He always puts some easier tasks on there for you in case you need a little momentum to keep you going. With each check you get a metaphorical gold star, and he isn't shy about how proud he is of his little girl for being all productive even when he's gone.
... ☆ ... DOCTOR SAM who acts like your shadow. He never wants to smother you, but he does want you to always know he's there. If you're out with your friends he's sitting a few seats away, completely content to sit there with his work and keep you and your girls same. The only way you even know he's there is when you scurry up to him to ask if you can drive someone home (to which the answer is always yes) and because every hour or so he orders plain club soda for your whole table.
... ☆ ... DOCTOR SAM who always has healthy meals and snacks prepped for you in the fridge. Little containers of cut fruits and veggies, high-protein wraps, and pre portioned cups of nuts if you're craving something salty. When he is home he always serves you lunch on a tray, each thing he's picked out for you arranged all cute and made exactly how you like it.
... ☆ ... read all doctor!sam ... ☆ ... doctor!sam m. list ... ☆ ...
It was just supposed to be a quick tour of your campus and your dormitory, a little drive around the area so your mom feels more familiar with the environment her own daughter have adapted to.
"Pretty close to the campus, right?" You smiled from the passenger seat as she drove out of the driveway of your rented dorm once she was satisfied enough with checking it out, "I can even wake up just a tad late and still be early."
A tender laugh escaped your mom, hands on the wheel and driving down the road you've gone through since the start of the semester, "Not so expensive too, huh?" She nodded in approval.
Only then did her eyes land on a certain event going on on the side of the street. "Oh look! A car wash!" She exclaimed cheerfully, the wheels of your car immediately redirecting to that certain part of the street, "Your old man will be so happy to know his car's washed up after that awful rain last night." She snorted, patting your hand.
The moment your eyes followed her gaze, your smile vanished from existence. "Mom, no!"
Because, sure, a clean car would be perfection in your dad's eyes. But a clean car due to the hands of frat boys and witnessing it happen from within the car sounds like a torture in hell for you.
Especially when your mom parked the car right by Rafe Cameron and his closest frat bros. A frat boy with a cocky smirk, cap always on backwards, with an arrogant and snobby kook attitude as the cherry on top that makes him somewhat unbearable in your eyes.
How you wished you could evaporate into thin air when your mom rolled down her window with that wide smile on her face.
Topper Thornton first approached the car, grinning a toothy grin, "Ma'am." He winked at your mom, shirtless torso leaning against the side of her car door, his eyes just briefly glancing your way with an amused chuckle.
Before your mom could speak, you raised a hand to interrupt her quick, "Are the sorority girls doing the car wash too?"
At this point, even having to witness the tiniest skanky bra one of those girls would wear is better than having shirtless exasperating frat boys wash your car.
"Just us, sweetheart."
Of course he had to show up. What better time for Rafe Cameron to actually put work into his car washing other than when your parents' dirty car pulled over? Was it perfect timing or was he just being annoying?
"Cameron." You sighed, nodding tiredly as you slowly sank down the passenger seat, praying to god for a miracle of becoming invisible.
Noticing your familiarity with Rafe, your mom beamed with excitement, "Oh, who is this, darling?" She asked, watching as Rafe squeeze out the drenched, soapy sponge, his skin perfectly sunkissed; shirtless with that stupid backward hat still on.
"No one important."
"Rafe Cameron, ma'am."
He was smiling, all performative and charming wannabe! It sickens you seeing him trying to act all sweet and perfect in front of your mom, you might as well jump out the driver's window to strangle him in 3... 2...
Your mom turned her head towards you, almost giggling as she grabbed your hand, whispering enthusiastically to you, "He's cute!"
Looking back at Rafe, all you saw was his wide toothy grin, gaze completely locked onto the pissed off look you had on your face. He was enjoying it all too much, his face alone was practically mocking you. And even with every second you look at him, even with squinted eyes, you still couldn't find this "cute" factor your mom have found in him.
A scoff escaped your lips, rolling your eyes at him. "Just go wash the car. Squeaky clean." You waved him off, or rather tried to.
"Tell me more about yourself, Rafe."
"Mom!"
Rafe chuckled, the stupid grin on his stupid face only widening as he stepped closer to your mom's window, his lean torso practically put on a showcase for the both of you.
"Well, I guess I can say that I'm majoring in business, I play golf, and…" He shot you one glance. A glance that just tells you he's looking for mischief, "…I asked your daughter out on a date once."
A gasp escaped your mom, looking back at you, "I've never heard of this!" The look on her face was an odd combination between disappointment towards you and excitement towards the news, "How come I've never heard of this?!"
"Because it never actually happened, mom." You groaned, "He—"
"—Needed your permission." Rafe completed with more lies, "I told her I'd need your full consent to proceed with the date."
His never-ending lies only made your mom believe more and more that he's such a distinguished gentleman.
"Such a lie!-"
"How thoughtful and respectful." Your mom said in awe, close to actually tearing up from the "angel" in front of her, "Well, you've definitely won my permission now!" She laughed.
It took you a good amount of six seconds to realize she was genuinely giving Rafe Cameron the permission to take you out on a date. It felt like one of those wattpad stories of being sold by your mom to one direction. Except instead of the gorgeous Zayn Malik, you got the irritating Rafe Cameron.
Your mom smiled wide and happy, "Oh please, sweetheart, just go on a date with this cute boy." She subtly pleaded, "Don't you wanna make your mom happy?"
Well... you don't get that bright of a smile on her face every day. It's kinda sad.
It's his smile that suffocates you.
On one hand, you wanted to give your mom what she wanted, especially since you think she's trying hard to give you puppy dog eyes. On the other, you just wanted her to drive away from Rafe Cameron. Even better if she drives over him. Just to get away from his self-absorbed, cocky, shit-eating—
"Whatever." You sighed, already sinking in the passenger seat and regretting even letting her drive the car by the time she finally ended the convo with him with a cheerful shriek.
Delighted by your response, with a cocky and arrogant smirk on those lips, Rafe Cameron proudly washed your car, the wet, soapy sponge in his hand dripping while he lingered by your side of the car, stalling washing the roof of the car just to give you more time to appreciate his bare torso showcased in your window.
He surely must've thought you'd spread your legs open just at the sight of his glistening torso. But a difficult girl like you just makes this ten times more enjoyable for Rafe.
And just to make sure you know you're stuck with him, he leaned his face down by the window, grinning and winking at you before aiming the hose right at where your annoyed face was behind the window.
"You're dead." You mouthed through the window, looking like the equivalent to an angry rat clenching its fist.
"You're mine." He mouthed back, shooting you a wink before squeezing soap onto the window, blurring away your sight of him.
One way or another, he was already planning the date.
liked by sam_winchester, official.deanwinchester, and others
(name) happy 4th!! new ep out now!!!! 🍒🩵🌟
view comments.
sam_winchester that jetski was the best thing to ever happen to this show · ❤️ by author
(name) oh so not me??? :((
sam_winchester now who said all that? · ❤️ by author
(name)fan85 first public interaction since the announcement of her joining and THIS is what yall do?????
user.fan what is HAPPENING on that set
fanboy.14 and how do i get there 🙏
official.deanwinchester i look great here. happy 4th 🇺🇲. · ❤️ by author
(name) dean 😭😭
deans(name) omg new interaction for the comp!!!!!!
normal.fan girl ur rooting for the wrong team...
(name)updates oh the first 3 slides are so tea · ❤️ by author
(name) i changed like 20 times today ❤️🩹
sam_winchester and they were all amazing :) · ❤️ by author
sammys(name) okay what is going ONNNNN 🤨🤨🤨
mika.abdalla i almost missed this · ❤️ by author
(name) good thing u didn’t :p
another_fan omg (name) in off campus s2 PLEASEEEE
nyxcosmetics hope you packed us in your bag! 💋 · ❤️ by author
random wait is this ab the brother show where the brothers play brothers
fan23 yes 😭
(name)lover crazy way to describe it but accurate
fangirl27 yea shes a guest this season
sam_winchester
♫ sex on fire · kings of leon
liked by (name), official.deanwinchester, castiel, and others
sam_winchester happy 4th. new episode. (name) took majority of these ❤️🇺🇲
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(name) ur welcome for letting u raid my camera roll · ❤️ by author
sam_winchester i said thank you, multiple times actually
(name) okay well the fireworks were loud asf soooo.... · ❤️ by author
sam_winchester you just wanna hear me say it again, don’t you?
(name) mmmmmmmaybe :) · ❤️ by author
user1234 you guys are fucking crazy. 😭😭
(name)updates thank u queen for finally showing him how to use the music feature 🫶 · ❤️ by author
(name) anything for the fans <3 · ❤️ by author
official.deanwinchester you did amazing on this one, sammy. can’t wait for people to see it. also why did you post that picture of me? hotdog🌭 · ❤️ by author
(name) omg ur showing ur age dean pls stop · ❤️ by author
sam_winchester (name) said it was a good picture to use
dean.fan HOTDOG 🌭
just.a.fan “you’re showing your age” IM FRIED
castiel greatly appreciate having been involved in this episode. · ❤️ by author
sam_winchester happy to have you in it, cas :)
erickripke1 he wrote and directed this episode too, so you should really go see it. · ❤️ by author
user65 casual spoilers first slide??
thewalking.larp larp.
sam(name)fan841 that was from an episode that came out like last month...
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⊹ 𝐈𝐓❜𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄. ── ⦂ minors are not allowed to interact.
ִ ⟡ 𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓 ˖ beau arlen ⅋ f!reader. ❜ ࿐ ⊹ ׂ
🖊️ ❛ 𓂃 after a fight about wanting a baby, he fucks you in an abandoned barn to shut you up & finally give you what you want. content ♥︎ warnings. barn sex, dubious content, breeding kink, angry fucking, hair pulling, degrading, no aftercare, established relationship. semi-public sex.
the words still hang in the dusty air of the old barn, sharp and ugly. your voice, raw from screaming at him, and his, a low, frustrated growl that cut you deeper than any yell ever could.
“it’s not that simple!” he’d roared, his hands fisted at his sides. “i have a daughter, a teenager. i’ve done this already!”
“and you did a great job!” you’d sobbed back, tears streaming down your face, hot and angry. “why is it so terrifying to think about doing it with me, beau? am i not enough? is what we have not real enough for you?”
the argument had spiraled from there, ending with you storming out of the truck and finding refuge in this derelict barn, a place you’d both noted on your drive. he’d followed you, of course. he always followed.
now you’re backed against a large, round bale of hay, the scratchy stalks poking uncomfortably through your graphic baby tee. he’s stalking towards you, his handsome face a thunderous mask of anger and something else, something darker that makes your stomach clench. the fading light from the broken slats in the wall casts long shadows, making him look bigger, more menacing.
“you wanna know why?” he says, his voice dangerously low as he finally reaches you, bracketing you in with his arms, his hands slamming into the hay on either side of your body. the bale trembles from the force. “because this is what i want to do to you. i don’t want to share you. not with a job, not with your friends, and sure as hell not with a fucking baby.”
your breath hitches, a fresh wave of tears blurring your vision. “that’s not fair.”
“fair?” he scoffs, a bitter, humorless sound. he leans in closer, his heat washing over you, his scent filling your nose, all leather and cologne. he was a furious man right now. “you wanna talk about fair? you want a baby so bad?” he grabs your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh there, and yanks you forward, grinding his already hard cock against your stomach through your jeans. “fine. i’ll give you my fucking baby.”
the words are a punch to the gut, but your body, your traitorous, needy body, responds instantly. a slick wetness pools between your legs. before you can protest, he’s spinning you around, shoving you forward so you’re bent over the hay bale. he doesn’t waste time with buttons. you hear the sound of the button on your jeans ripping as he tears them open, shoving them and your panties down your thighs in one rough, impatient motion.
the cool, dusty air hits your exposed skin, and you shiver, a blubbering, pathetic mess of tears and arousal. you’re crying from the hurt of his words, from the frustration of the fight, but you’re also arching your back, pushing your ass out for him.
he spits on his hand, the sound vulgar in the quiet barn, and coats his thick, hot length. he doesn’t give you any warning. he just grabs your hips and shoves himself inside you.
you moan loudly, the sound swallowed by the hay you’re pressed against. he’s so big, so thick, and he’s not being gentle. of course, he isn’t. he’s fucking you with all the anger and frustration from your fight, each thrust a jarring, deep slam that feels like it’s rearranging your insides. the hay scratches your cheek, your arms, but all you can feel is him, filling you, stretching you to accommodate his size. as if you hadn’t already done so countless times before.
“this is what you wanted, right?” he growls in your ear, his voice a ragged pant. he pulls your hair, yanking your head back. “you want to be bred? i’ll breed you, darlin’. i’ll fill y’so full of my cum y’won’t be able to walk straight.”
you sob, a broken, keening sound, as he pounds into you. he’s not just having sex with you for fun, no. he’s branding you, and you’re willingly taking all of it because you wanted this.
just when you think you can’t take any more, he pulls out, leaving you hollow and aching. you whimper, but he just lifts you, pushing you down onto your side on the hay bale. you’re a mess, snot and tears and slick covering you. he doesn’t seem to care.
he throws your top leg over his shoulder, hooking his arm under your thigh to hold you in place. it tilts your hips up, giving him deeper, more complete access. his beautiful green eyes are blown wide with lust, dark and feral as he looks down at you, at the way your pussy weeps for him.
he enters you again, and this time you can feel the difference. the anger is gone, burned away and replaced by a raw, consuming need. it’s slower, deeper, each thrust deliberate. he watches your face as he fucks you, watches the tears stream down to your temple and into your hair. he watches your ass jiggle every time he slams into you. you can feel his balls, heavy and swollen, slapping against you with each powerful thrust. the whole barn now smells like dust and sex and him.
“beau,” you gasp, your fingers digging into the rough hay. you’re close, so close, your whole body trembling on the edge of a precipice.
“i know, sweetheart,” he grunts, his control starting to fray. he picks up the pace, his hips slamming into yours with a wet, slapping sound that echoes off the wooden walls. he’s fucking you into the hay now, his eyes never leaving yours. “you’re gonna take it all for me. every last drop.”
at that your orgasm hits, a violent, all consuming wave that makes you scream his name. your vision whites out, your body convulsing around his cock. your climax sends him over the edge. with a guttural growl, he drives into you one last time, his hips bucking as he floods your womb with his hot, thick seed. he holds your leg tight, keeping you pinned as he empties himself completely inside you, groaning your name like a prayer and a curse.
he collapses on you, his weight pressing you into the scratchy hay, his ragged breaths hot against your bicep. still inside you, his cock throbbing softly. the argument isn’t over. nothing is solved. but as you lie there, a blubbering, sated mess in a dusty old barn, filled to the brim with him, you know one thing for sure.
he gave you what you wanted and you felt satisfied. because deep down? you know beau will do as you say, even if you piss him off like you did tonight.
𝓫efore 𝔂ou 𝓰o . . . potential comeback to my jackles era? teehee 🤭 who knows! + i know this was short, i’ve just been super duper busy & so much has happened in my personal life recently (good things!), so i havent really been in the writing mood <3
﹙ ੭꣒ ˖ ﹚tags. @bruisedfig @beecomingnothing @filthgf @sturnsflirt — please comment if you’d like to be added.
𓏲 ⌗ 𓈒 𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 ` 𓂃 ⊹ ──── ꒰ rapper!chris ꒱ ꜝ ꒱ ⋆ 𓂅 in which :: @/. 777freshlove presents random text messages between rapper!chris and model!reader.
𝐔𝐂𝐋𝐀❜𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓. born and raised in east la by her abuelos after her dad caught his third strike and her mom decided chasing her next high mattered more than raising a daughter. her grandparents made damn sure she never forgot where she came from — sunday dinners are non-negotiable, she speaks spanish fluently (not that broken shit jensen tries), and she can make tamales with her eyes closed. but she’s also the girl showing up to parties in denim mini skirts that hit just right, baby tees stretched across her chest in glittery letters, making every head turn. she is the one girl at ucla who’s got the notorious player checking his phone like a lovesick fool. they call her gatita around campus, and it fits with how she moves through westwood like she owns her little corner of it, platform wedges click-clacking on concrete, that juicy couture perfume trailing behind her like a warning sign.
𝐔𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐑. born & raised in south central la, this half mexican, half white boy moves through campus like he owns the place. baggy 501s sitting low on his hips, crisp white pro clubs, fresh air force 1s that never have a single scuff. sometimes rocks dickies if that's the vibe. spends twenty minutes getting his frosted tips just right. black jansport packed with his entire existence: half-empty versace eros cologne, crumpled phone numbers from girls he's already forgotten, maybe got two notebooks for lectures he ocasionally graces with his presence. wasn't supposed to be quarterback. only got the position sophomore year after the last guy got caught doing lines before the biggest usc game. jensen went from riding bench all year high as fuck to showing up still high as fuck, but now throwing perfect spirals that make coaches bite their tongues about his lifestyle.
warnings ૮๑ˊᯅˋ๑ა : crying , p in v (missionary) , pogue!reader
rafe crying while he's in it nghh ( ＾ω＾ )
one thing you basked in was making your #1 hater cry.
not from your words or actions, not, that just won't do . . . but from your pussy!
it was the greatest satisfaction, because no matter how much money or control he had over the island, you had to show him who's bigger than the program, & that was you . . .
"it's good, ain't it?" you purred in rafe's ear; his little whimpers sounded like music to your ears.
"haven't even bottomed out n' you're shaking." it was true, he hadn't. he only made it about halfway before his whole body shuddered at the feel of your tight, wet heat enveloping his cock.
"shut the—fuck—up," he snapped, his hips against yours, tired of your mocking.
your lips parted in a silent moan before swiftly turning into a smirk. you loved it when he thought he had the upper hand, especially when he knew it took one clench of your velvety walls to knock him down a couple pegs.
"stop—hah—squeezin' me," his head tipped back, eyes rolled back momentarily. his guttural groan vibrates through you. his tone was desperate, pleading as if he was trying to reason with you, "m'tryna fuck you."
"how thoughtful, but you've never done it right before," you pouted. "why the change of heart?"
his answer was a choked sob, hiding his face in the crook of your neck for reprieve. tears accumulated in the dip of your collarbone, his sweaty strands tickling your face. rafe’s arms trembled beside your head as his shaky breath fanned your skin.
"c'mon rafey, fuck me back," you urged, wrapping your legs around his waist before rolling your hips against his.
for a moment, you thought he’d gathered the strength to move forward when he suddenly thrust into you, stealing a surprised gasp from you. well, that was until you felt him stiffen and the warm sensation of him spilling into you.
you tutted, caressing his back soothingly as he rides out his climax. you giggle, feeling more weak spurts of his cum coat your walls when your nails move to card through his hair.
“s’okay,” you cooed. “try again, and make me cum this time . . . “
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bff rafe thats has a past of being a notorious fuckboy is shocked when his lifelong bff (reader) mentions that shes a virgin bc shes undeniably HOT. and hes experienced... shes not... so they do something about it..!
pov. while playing truth or dare, he discovers his long time bestfriend (who’s so hot and cute) has never had sex before.
notes. i love this plot, it’s so similar to my nerd x frat boy rafe fanfic! thank you for recommending this anonymous
content warnings. ⸝⸝ fem reader, gentle sex, vanilla sex, praising, cussing, titty sucking, no proof read, rafe teaching kissing, oral sex
rafe grew up swearing he’d never be attracted to you, swore he’d never let himself be perverted toward you. but ever since you hit college, it’s been a different story.
he’s been with so many girls. every age, every type, but none of them ever hit like you do. your tits sit so perfectly in your bra that he gets nervous whenever you stand there casually talking about life while getting dressed.
he’s seen you almost naked plenty of times, just in a bra and panties, but never fully bare. he acted cool in the moment, eyes not lowering down to the obvious outline of your pussy. but he’d be lying if he said he’d never fantasized about you being fully bare and finally seeing the outlines.
the soft curves of your body make him hard in seconds. even the lightest brush of his fingers against you while he was taking a photo for your mom’s facebook left him aching.
it’s honestly laughable how many times rafe has told himself you’re completely off limits. all those almost-kisses, the times he’s accidentally walked in on you changing, and the sharp jealousy he felt whenever his friends started showing interest in you, none of it helped.
but right now, the two of you are playing truth or dare with a generous side of alcohol that wasn’t exactly part of the rules. it’s been light and playful so far; crushes, stripping off a hoodie or socks, handstands against the wall, holding your breath for thirty seconds. then you both decided to make it more interesting.
“someone you’d fuck for access to their partner?” you asked, reading from a website full of spicy questions. rafe laughed. “any lesbian couple,” he teased. you rolled your eyes. “cheater!” you yell. he grinned before asking his own. “do you prefer virgins or experienced guys?” he questioned. the question came too smooth, like he’d been waiting to ask it for a while. “i don’t know… i’m a virgin,” you said, then laughed. “i haven’t gotten that far yet.” you add.
rafe didn’t laugh with you. he stared at you like you’d just said something insane. “what?” he asked quietly. “sorry, i was joking,” you clarified, still smiling. “i meant i basically am a virgin.” you continue.
his expression didn’t change. his eyes dragged slowly down your body, taking you in. “no… i heard you,” he said, voice low. you blinked, suddenly aware of how intently he was looking at you. “oh.” a small smile tugged at your lips.
“how are you still a virgin?” he asked before he could stop himself. his gaze wandered shamelessly over your curves, no longer pretending it was casual. you felt heat rise in your cheeks, but the alcohol made you bold. “wanna come do something about it?” you teased, locking eyes with him.
rafe’s smirk was slow and hungry. “you giving me a go?” he asked and you paused, tilting your head as you held his stare. then you nodded.
rafe didn’t waste another second. still sitting on the floor across from you, he leaned forward, one hand bracing on the carpet as he closed the distance.
his other hand gently cupped the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheek. you could smell the faint mix of his cologne and the alcohol on his breath right before his lips met yours.
the kiss was soft at first, warm and careful, like he was testing the waters. but when you stayed frozen, unsure, he pulled back just enough to look at you. “i… i don’t know how to kiss,” you whispered, a little embarrassed.
rafe’s eyes softened, but his smirk stayed. “that’s okay, baby. i’ll teach you.” he said. he tilted your chin up slightly with his fingers. “just relax your lips… don’t tense up.” his voice was low and patient. “follow what i do.” he adds.
he leaned in again, slower this time, pressing his mouth to yours with a little more pressure. his lips moved gently, guiding yours to part just enough. when you started to mirror him, he hummed approvingly against your mouth.
“good girl… like that,” he murmured between kisses. “use a little tongue if you want.”
he demonstrated, licking softly at your bottom lip until you opened for him. the moment your tongues touched, a small sound escaped you, and rafe deepened the kiss, taking control but staying gentle enough for you to keep up.
his hand slid into your hair, cradling the back of your head as he kissed you like he’d been waiting years to do it. he pulled back for air, forehead resting against yours, breathing a little heavier. “see? you’re a natural,” he whispered, voice rough. “again?” he whispered, voice low and rough.
you nodded, cheeks flushed. “yes.”
he pulled back just enough to look at you, a wicked little smirk tugging at his mouth. “beg me for it then.” he teased. you bit your lip, heart racing, but the heat between you made you brave. “please, rafe… kiss me. i want you to teach me.” you begged. his eyes darkened with satisfaction. “good girl.”
he leaned in and captured your mouth again, slow but deliberate to make you ache. “relax your lips,” he murmured against you. “open for me a little… yeah, just like that.” he kissed you deeper, guiding your mouth with his, teaching you how to move, how to respond, all to him. his tongue slipped in lazily, stroking yours until you started kissing him back properly, all soft and eager.
while his mouth worked against yours, your hands moved on their own. you tugged at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slowly and over your head. he quickly kissed you once again, as you dropped it beside you, now sitting there in just your bra, chest rising and falling quickly.
rafe broke the kiss to look down at you. his gaze locked on your tits, big and perky, straining against the thin fabric of your bra. they were so full and plump, perfectly rounded with a soft, sexy bounce as you breathed. he smiled, slow and hungry. “so fucking pretty,” he breathed.
he couldn’t hold back anymore. rafe leaned down, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along the swell of your breasts. his hands cupped them, squeezing gently, feeling their weight and softness. “fuck… look at these tits,” he groaned, clearly obsessed with how big and plush they were.
he pulled one cup down, exposing a nipple, and immediately dragged his tongue over it before sucking it into his mouth. he moaned against your skin, sucking harder, switching between licking broad strokes and deep, greedy pulls. his other hand kneaded your other tit, thumb brushing the nipple through the fabric.
he was completely lost in them, burying his face between your soft, plump curves, kissing and sucking like he couldn’t get enough.
you got shy all of a sudden, face burning as the heat between your legs became too much. biting your lip, you reached down, grabbed his hand, and slowly guided it to the waistband of your shorts, pressing his fingers there.
rafe pulled back from your chest, eyes filled with desire and hungry as he understood exactly what you wanted. “yeah?” he murmured, voice rough. without another word he hooked his fingers into your shorts and panties, tugging them down your legs in one smooth motion and tossing them aside.
you were completely bare now. rafe’s gaze dropped between your thighs, and he let out a low groan. his fingers found your clit instantly, rubbing slow, firm circles over the sensitive little bundle. your hips jerked hard at the first touch, twitching and bucking uncontrollably as he played with your soaked, horny clit.
“fuck, look at you,” he breathed, eyes locked on the way your body reacted, twitching and jerking every time he stroked you. “so sensitive already.” he comments.
you moaned loudly, the sound spilling out as pleasure shot through you. your back arched and you leaned back until you were lying flat on the floor, chest heaving.
rafe didn’t stop. he moved down between your legs, spreading them wider. before you could catch your breath, he pinned your hips down firmly to the floor with both hands, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm away.
then his mouth was on you. his tongue dragged hot and wet over your clit, licking and sucking with filthy hunger.
he kept you pinned down tight, strong hands gripping your thighs as he ate you out like he’d been starving for it, tongue flicking and circling, lips sucking gently then harder. every time you tried to buck or twist, his grip only tightened, keeping you right there for him.
rafe kept his mouth on you, licking and sucking your clit until your moans turned into desperate little cries. you couldn’t take it anymore.
“rafe… please,” you whimpered, voice shaky. “please fuck me. i want you inside me. please.” you plead.
he pulled back from between your thighs, lips shiny, eyes full with lust. “yeah? you want my cock, baby?” he asked, already moving up your body. he shoved his shorts down just enough, freeing himself, and settled between your spread legs. you nodded quickly, breathing fast. “please… i need it.” you continued on.
rafe leaned down, kissing you softly as he lined himself up. he rubbed the head of his cock against your soaked entrance, then started pushing in, very slow and careful.
just the tip stretched you open, and you gasped, body tensing hard. it was a lot. your hands flew to his shoulders, gripping tight as you struggled to adjust.
“shh, easy baby,” rafe murmured, voice low and sweet against your ear. he stayed perfectly still, only the head inside you. “you’re doing so good already. just breathe for me. we’ve got all the time you need, okay? i’m not gonna hurt you.” he says sweetly.
you whimpered, nodding, trying to relax around his thick tip. “that’s my good girl,” he praised, kissing your neck and jaw. “you can take it. just let me in nice and slow… there you go.” he continued.
he pushed forward another inch, then stopped again, letting you feel every bit of him. his hand stroked your hair, thumb brushing your cheek as he whispered encouragement. “look at you… so tight and pretty for me. you’re doing perfect, baby. whenever you’re ready, i’ll give you more. no rush.”
after a few deep breaths, the stretch started turning into something hotter. you nodded again, and rafe began moving, continuing the slow, shallow thrusts, easing more of his cock into you with every gentle rock of his hips. he kept talking you through it, voice warm and steady.
“feel that? that’s all for you. just relax and let me fuck you nice and slow… good girl. you’re taking me so well already.” he kept that gentle rhythm, letting you feel every inch as he worked himself deeper, patient and sweet while your body slowly opened up for him.
rafe kept his pace slow and deep, rocking into you with steady thrusts that gradually grew stronger. your legs were spread wide open for him, knees bent and falling further apart with every push of his hips. they bounced and shook each time he sank back in, the soft flesh of your thighs jiggling from the impact.
you were holding onto him for dear life. arms wrapped tightly around his neck, nails digging into his shoulders as your body rocked beneath him. every thrust pulled a shaky moan from your throat, your chest pressed flush against his while he fucked you.
“fuck… you feel so good,” he groaned against your neck, one hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread nice and wide for him. “look at these legs… all open for me.” he said.
your grip on him tightened as he thrust a little deeper, your walls fluttering around his cock. you buried your face in his shoulder, breathing hard, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping you grounded while he filled you over and over again.
the wet sounds of him sliding in and out mixed with your soft, desperate moans, your body bouncing gently on the floor with each roll of his hips. rafe kissed the side of your head, still talking you through it in that low, sweet voice. “that’s it, baby… just hold onto me. you’re taking my cock so fucking well.” he said.
rafe kept fucking you with his deep, and steady thrusts. your legs spread wide and bouncing softly with every roll of his hips. you were still clinging to him tightly when you reached up and tugged desperately at the bottom of his shirt.
“take it off,” you breathed.
he didn’t hesitate. rafe slowed his thrusts just enough to yank his shirt over his head in one smooth motion, since he has done it so many times, tossing it aside. the second his bare chest pressed against yours, you pulled him down harder, craving his mouth.
he leaned all the way down, covering your body with his as he kissed you. at first your kissing was eager but messy, a little too much tongue too fast, lips slipping awkwardly as you tried to keep up.
rafe smiled against your mouth. “slow down, baby,” he murmured, voice husky. “watch…”
he took control, tilting his head slightly and kissing you deeper, slower. his tongue slid sensually along yours, teasing and stroking in long, wet strokes that made your stomach flutter. you tried to match him but slipped again, pushing your tongue too eagerly. he gently sucked on your bottom lip, correcting you.
“easy… let me lead,” he whispered. “open your mouth a little more… yeah, you got it baby.” he coos.
then he really kissed you, hot, filthy, and unhurried. his tongue licked into your mouth deeply, curling around yours in slow, sexy strokes.
wet sounds filled the space between you as he fucked you and kissed you at the same time, tongues sliding and tangling sensually. every time you messed up the rhythm he fixed it with a soft groan, guiding you until you were kissing him back perfectly, sloppy, passionate, tongue heavy making out that left you both breathless.
you moaned into his mouth, legs trembling around his waist as he kept thrusting into you, never breaking the intense kiss. his tongue explored yours like he owned it, slow and dirty, sucking lightly on your tongue before sliding back in deep again.
“good girl” he praised against your lips once more, then dove right back in for another kiss. rafe groaned against your mouth as you kept kissing him, your tongues sliding hot and wet together. he could feel how desperate you were getting, the way your pussy clenched around him tighter with every thrust.
“you want it harder, baby?” he rasped, breaking the kiss just enough to look at you. you nodded, biting your lip. his hips snapped forward suddenly, driving his cock deeper and faster. your legs bounced harder, spread wide and shaking as he started fucking you with more force.
you cried out, nails digging into his back as he picked up the pace. the wet slap of skin on skin got louder, his thrusts turning rougher, pounding into you steadily. every hard stroke hit that perfect spot inside you, making your whole body jolt.
“rafe—fuck—” you moaned, holding onto him tighter, legs trembling uncontrollably around his waist. “that’s it,” he encouraged, fucking you harder, deeper, one hand gripping your thigh to keep you spread open for him. “cum on my cock, baby. i can feel how close you are.” he continues.
rafe kept pounding into you harder, hips snapping with deep, relentless thrusts that made your whole body bounce beneath him. your legs stayed spread wide, trembling violently as your orgasm crashed over you.
“rafe—!” you cried out, back arching hard off the floor as you came hard on his cock. your pussy clenched and pulsed around him in tight, wet spasms, gushing slick, creamy liquid all over his thick shaft. the warm wetness painted his dick with every thrust, coating him shiny and messy, dripping down his balls as he fucked you through it.
he looked down between your bodies, groaning loudly at the sight. “fuck, baby… look at that. you’re soaking my dick so good,” he rasped, voice strained with lust. he didn’t slow down, sliding in and out of your spasming, drenched pussy, the wet sounds even filthier now as your cum coated every inch of him.
your body kept twitching and jerking, soft whimpers falling from your lips while he kept thrusting through your orgasm, his cock glistening with your release.
Somewhere in the pits of his soul Dean should feel guilty. Even he knows fucking another man's girl isn't right.
But it's hard to care when you've got your legs wrapped round his waist, ankles locked behind his back, moaning so fuckin' loud the whole state can hear.
Harder still when your pussy's taking him so good it's like you haven't been fucked properly in weeks.
He knew your new boyfriend was going to be limp-dicked from the first second he met him, just knew you were gonna come crawling back to him after whatever attempts at satisfaction failed.
"Missed getting fucked like you deserve?"
He moves your arms above your head, stretching you out below him so he can get a good look at you. He holds both wrists with one hand, pushing them against the mattress, your body arching up to meet him.
He wets his lips, a satisfied grin as he stares down at you, "He can't make you feel like this, can he?"
"Dean- please-" you whine, arms twisting under his grasp.
"Answer me." He speaks firmer, his hard thrusts sending your whole body begging for more.
"Just you- just you De- jesus-"
He chuckles slightly, rolling his hips that way he knows you like, "Oh poor girl, just had to come running to me- you know I'll take care of you."
He pulls his body back as his free hand finds your cunt, rubbing harsh circles against your sensitive clit. You gasp, hips rocking against him, your mind swimming in silky pleasure.
"Oh- oh baby- he's just not been treating you right, has he?" There's amusement in his tone- maybe because you're so wet that the only other sounds are his cock pumping into you and your desperate attempts to plead for more.
"Oh god- fuck-" you gasp, jaw slack and lids starting to fall.
"You need t'cum again, baby? This cunt's starting to get greedy-"
"Dean- please- oh my god-"
"Okay, okay- go on- show me what you've been missin'."
titsay
yousharknotpass
kaledo-art
jacobvanloon
baratheonpilled
areudirty
snowghoul
