#ryder writes

Suddenly, there's someone else. Suddenly, there's a boy of barely eighteen summers who never stops talking and trips over his own boots and leaves a mess wherever he goes and won't listen to anyone and throws out spells like he thinks them candies and—and—gets up before sunrise to gather herbs so Gaius won't have to, and comes stumbling down the stairs every morning still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, but he musters a bright smile whenever he sees Gaius anyway, no matter how tired he is, and every time he learns a new bit of magic, his eyes light up, and he won't rest until he's tried it out for himself, and he sends his mother nearly every coin he earns, and some nights he falls asleep with his head on his spellbook because he couldn't bear to stop reading, and he can't tell a joke to save his life because he starts snickering before he can get out the punch line, and sometimes, as he helps Gaius stir his ointments and strain his tinctures, he says, softly and sincerely and almost to himself, "Thank you for putting up with me," as though he can scarcely fathom it.

Merlin isn't quiet.

Merlin is the exact opposite of quiet, really – he's filled to the brim with noise, overflowing with sound as a bucket with water, and come what may, it simply spills out of him, in faint gentle whispers or resounding, deafening shouts, a constant, unrelenting cascade of sound.

Gaius has his books. He has his herbs. He has his potions. And he has something quite a bit better than quiet.

“Oh (Y/N), where are youuu? Don’t you want to come out and playyy?” Dean’s voice echoed down the hall of the bunker.

You sat in a closet of one of the vacant rooms, struggling with your thoughts. You knew you should run, fear for your life, but you couldn’t. Something about the tone of Dean’s voice excited you, made you curious of what would happen if he found you. Before you could decide what to do, two strong arms were wrapping around you tightly.

“Gotcha now, princess.” Dean sneered, as his eyes flashed pitch black. You knew you should fight back, try to escape from his grasp, but you didn’t. Instead you let him haul you off to god knows where to do god knows what to you.

“Dean…” was all you were able to get out before everything went black. When you finally came to, you couldn't move. You looked down, searching for the source of your restraint, finding your arms and legs bound by straps. You were laying naked on what seemed to be an examination table, the cold stinging your bare skin. ‘What the hell is Dean doing to me’ you thought to yourself. Fear and excitement coursing through your veins.

“About time you woke up, I didn't want to have do this all by myself.” Dean smirked at you.

You looked over to see him seated in a chair facing you, slowly stroking his thick cock. His eyes clouded with desire.

“What… what are you going to do to me?” You all but whimpered out.

“Actually, you should be asking what you're going to do to yourself princess.” A devilish grin spreading across his lips.

Dean stood up and made his way over to you, his cock bouncing freely as he walked. You knew that you shouldn't, but all you could do was focus on it and wonder how it would feel inside of you.

Dean trailed his hand along your leg, up your thigh, and over your slick folds before unlatching one of your wrists.

“I want you to show me how you play with yourself at night when you think about me.” He commanded. “How you flick and pinch your nipples, wishing it was my tongue instead of your fingers.”

Dean snapped his fingers, and suddenly your free hand landed on your breast and began toying with the tight bud. A small moan escaping your mouth.

“That's it sweetheart, just like that.” He purred.

You didn't want to do this, but you couldn't stop. You watched as Dean's eyes surveyed your body as if you were his property.

“Now I want to see how you slowly slide your hand down your body, running a finger through your slick folds.”

And with another snap, your hand began to trail down your body, a finger dipping into your heat. You were surprised to feel the wetness that had began to pool up between your folds. You couldn't deny how turned on you were by Dean’s torture.

“Now taste it.” He demanded.

You did as you were told as Dean looked on in surprise; he didn't have to make you follow his command.

“Oh, you like that don't you (Y/N).” He said as he began to slowly stroke his length.

You decided to take things into your own hands, no longer needing Dean's commands. You slid your hand back down to your heat and began to run a flinger through your slick coming up to flick the sensitive mound of nerves. Dean looked on with pure lust as you took your finger and plunged it into your opening, pumping in and out slowly.

You could feel your release building inside of you, but before you could reach it, Dean removed your hand and placed it back into the restraint.

“Not yet princess.”

Dean's tongue appeared where your finger had left off. Slowly circling your mound, as he thrust a long thick digit inside of you, curling it slightly to access your g-spot. You felt your release begin to build again, but just as you were about to fall over the edge, Dean removed himself from between your legs. You let out a frustrated moan.

“What's the rush princess?” Dean smirked up at you. “We've got all night.” He whispered across your skin, his breath sending tingles up your spine.

His callused hands find their way to your breasts, pawing and kneading them as his mouth finds your rising bud, taking it between his teeth, nipping and sucking causing you to arch up into him. You struggled with your restraints, needing to feel him.

Dean was taking his time, tormenting you, savoring every inch of your body. He finally stopped his attack on your chest, and released your arms and legs from their restraints. He slid you down until your legs were hanging off of the table.

“Now be a good girl, and don't move.” He commanded as he spread your legs, teasing your folds with the head of his length.

Dean looked up at you, eyes flashing black, before thrusting into you hard and fast. You screamed out in pain and pleasure, fighting the urge to arch into his thrust.

Dean stilled inside of you before he began thrusting in a rough rhythm, his hips grinding into your own.

He let out a primal roar, “mmm so tight princess, gonna rip you wide open!” Dean quickens his pace, his hand tangling into your hair and holding your head down, his other hand finding your breast and begins roughly kneading.

You could feel the pressure building inside of you as Dean quickened his pace.

“Dean… gonna come.” You squeaked out through labored breaths.

Your walls tightened around him as you finally found your release, Dean's name rolling off of your tongue as you rode the waves of pleasure.

“Fuck princess. So hot!” He roared as he tightened his grip in your hair. You felt the warmth fill you as he came, his length throbbing inside of you.

After riding out his own release, he removed himself from you. “I always knew you'd be a good fuck, (Y/N/N).” Before vanishing from the room, leaving you naked, empty, and alone.

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“You're really making me do this?” Dean grumbled as he trudged into your shared bedroom.

“You said that I got to have one day where I called the shots Winchester! So yes, I am making you do this!” You shot back, sass radiating off of you.

You began laying out your arsenal on the bed, turning around to wink at your boyfriend.

“Why do you have this much makeup?” He asked, clearly horrified as he observed the pile of products littering your bed.

“What? Hunters can wear makeup too! Andddd I may or may not have a hoarding problem.”

“Clearly!” He grumbled. “But you know you don't need any of it, right?”

A blush crept its way onto your cheeks, “if you say so Winchester! But honestly, I don't wear it because I feel like I need it, it's actually kind of fun to me. To doll myself up and pretend to be someone else for a little while. Now sit!” You commanded, gesturing to the chair you had set up for him.

“Damn (Y/N), I like it when you get all demanding!” He chuckled, slapping your ass on the way to the chair.

“Well, I am the one calling the shots today, play your cards right and you just might get to see me be even more demanding later tonight!”

“Yes ma'am!” He shouted, saluting you, a sly smile working its way across his lips.

You began to work on his already gorgeous face.

“Whoa whoa whoa, what are those for?” He gestured to the cucumbers in your hand, “you better not expect me to eat those!”

You chuckled, “no! These are for your eyes while your face moisturizes! Now be still!” You demanded, slapping his hand away from the sliced vegetables in your hand.

“Ohhh! I could get used to this!” Dean exclaimed, rubbing his face. “I'm so… Soft!”

“See, I always knew you had a prissy side somewhere in that manly body of yours!” You shot him a wink before preparing for the next step.

After priming his chiseled face you grabbed your foundation and began dotting it on.

“Can I see yet?” He pleaded, his lip poking out. Damn he had a cute pouty face.

“I'm just getting started, you can see once I'm done! Now sit still before I poke you in the eye!” You said as you began dabbing the foundation in with your sponge.

You finished up blending and sculpting his face and took a second to stand back and admire your work. The contour and highlight bringing out his already well chiseled jawline and cheeks.

“Am I pretty yet?” He asked, batting his lashes up at you.

“Getting there!” You smirked.

“Wait! I wasn't pretty before?” He whined, giving you his best puppy dog eyes.

“Maybe, maybe not!” You pecked a kiss on his lips before shaping his brows and filling them in.

“Now for the fun part!” You squealed, holding up your eye pallets and glitter.

“Oh no way! You are not using glitter!” He stared holes through you.

“Watch me!” You challenged. “And if you aren't still, you just might lose an eye, so your choice Winchester.” You smiled at yourself knowing that would shut him up.

You began your work on his gorgeous green orbs, being careful not to smudge your masterpiece.

Andddd I'm done! You proclaimed after applying the last bit of mascara.

“Ready for it?” You questioned excitedly.

“Not really, but let's see it.” He mumbled.

“Close your eyes!” You demanded before whirling him around to face the mirror. “Ok, open them!” You squealed.

Dean sat quietly, observing his face, scrunching and stretching it in different directions.

“Oh crap! I'm a painted whore!” He whined.

“But you're prettyyyy!” You exclaimed, batting your eyes at him.

Just then Sam appeared in the doorway, examining his older brother. “Do I even want to know?” He questioned.

“You didn't see anything! You got that Sammy?” Dean growled, piercing his brother with his steely gaze.

You and Sam broke out into a fit of laughter as Dean continued to stare holes into the both of you.

“So, does this mean I don't get a picture?” Sam asked, flashing his puppy eyes.

Dean didn't respond, but gave his brother a look that could kill.

“Anddd that's my cue to leave.” Sam chuckled, making his way out of the room.

“Now that I've lost my manhood, wanna get this stuff off my face and have some real fun?” A devious grin spreading across his lips.

“You know it Winchester!” You wrapped your arms around him, leaning up to press your lips to his. “After all, I've always been curious what it would feel like being with a woman.”

“Ohhhh you're gonna get it for that sweetheart!” Dean said, letting out a primal growl, before throwing you down onto the bed.

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