Ten Years Gone {d.w.}

Red Wings {d.w.}

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!! Period sex, descriptions of blood, slight blood kink, pet names, unprotected sex (wrap it unless that's what you want!) Also, I know 'Red Wings' refers to oral sex, but I've only ever known it to be from penetration--so it's penetration in this. (if i missed anything please let me know. also let me know if this is fucked and if i should delete). Word count: 2k

A/N: Any feedback is appreciated, especially on this one. Feel free to be brutally honest. Happy reading, hopefully!

—

It’s no surprise that Dean doesn’t mind cleaning up period blood. It’s a part of his job description for hell's sake. And he’s damn good at getting deep stains out of your underwear, or on occasion where you bleed through your pads and stain the sheets during the night. He’s more than happy to help during your vulnerable days. In fact, he loves it. Loves taking care of his sweet girl. 

Dean has been through numerous types of pain, but he will never know what it’s like for his body to attack itself. Doesn’t understand the breast tenderness where even a loose shirt hurts to have on. Cramps so debilitating that you can’t even stand–that move to your back, to your vagina, and sometimes it zaps your damned asshole. The iron deficiency that gives you headaches and makes you so tired and weak. Sometimes the pain lasts for hours without a break. 

He keeps begging you to get checked for endometriosis–and has been secretly doing his research because it makes him feel useless that he can’t soothe the pain. You’re stubborn though and don’t listen to him. 

The cramps aren’t the worst tonight but they’re bad enough that you keep wiggling around and aren’t able to fall asleep. You’ve noticed recently that Dean sleeps lighter when you’re on your period–he’s more intune with you and your body. Always ready to make sure you’re okay. He’s groggy when he turns over and drapes an arm over your waist. His hand slips under your shirt and goes to your stomach, the warmth acts as a heating pad. Then he starts massaging gently, going from one side to the other, then pushing down towards your uterus. Once he’s done that for a couple rounds, the massage gets deeper, and that’s when you let out a throaty groan.

The pressure that is placed on your stomach actually helps relieve the cramping. 

“Feel good, baby?” Dean mumbles, his warm breath tickles your ear.

“Yes…really good,” You exhale. “How’d you know to do this?”

“Found a video on youtube. Hate knowing how much it hurts you. Had to figure something out for my girl.”

“Fuuuck.” The release is too good to be true.

Dean leaned over your shoulder, kissing your forehead, then your cheek–still massaging. “You, um…you know what else I came across that could help your cramps?”

“Hmm?”

“I read,” he pauses to kiss your shoulder, “that period sex helps release endorphins or whatever and acts as a natural painkiller. Would you–would you want to try…?”

You never entertained the idea of having period sex. It was messy and the clean up would be a nuisance. Also, Dean already had to deal with washing blood from his own hands from the job, plus whenever you bled through clothes and periodically on the sheets. Even if you insisted on cleaning everything yourself, he’d make it his responsibility. You didn’t want to burden him or trigger a trauma response with how heavy your flow could get.

Admittedly, his willingness to do anything for your aching body was turning you on. It was something the two of you have never done. With anyone.

“Let’s try it. But we’re stopping if—“

“If your cramps get worse. Of course, sweetheart.” You saw him wink at you in the dimly lit room and your core heated up. He could read your mind so effortlessly.

Dean gives you a gentle kiss on the lips before getting up and walking out of the room. Coming back a minute later with a dark towel. 

“Lift your hips up fr’me.”

You follow his instruction and he slides the towel underneath you. And when you settle back down he pulls both your underwear and sweatpants off. You remove your tank top while Dean takes off his boxers. His cock springs out of them–you didn’t even realize he was hard in the first place. Your clit pulses at the sight. He eyes you–taking in your beautiful bare body as he begins stroking himself. A small groan leaves his plump lips while he climbs on the bed, positioning his legs on either side of you. 

Dean remains straddling you, pumping his dick slowly–you watch his precum building on his tip, threatening to leak down his shaft at any moment. With his other hand he finds your clit. You can’t help but to jerk back, not being used to him touching you during this time of the month.

His voice sweet and slow like honey, “It’s okay baby. Blood won’t hurt me none.” 

A small croak of approval emits itself from your throat while you shake your head in agreement. Replacing his large fingers over your small sensitive bud, he presses down slightly and moves side to side. Just how you like it. Concern sits at the forefront of your mind about your blood spilling out at any moment. But with every moment that passes while Dean touches you–while you watch him touch himself–is another moment that eases the thought of the clean up that has to happen later. You eventually lay back down, resting your head on your pillow, elevated just enough so you’re still able to watch. 

“That’s my girl. Just relax.” He stops pleasuring himself and drops himself over you with his free hand, and leans down planting a kiss on your lips. He pulls away and brushes his lips against yours, “You ready? I need to hear you speak this time.”

“I’m good, I’m okay.” You say as you brush your fingers along the side of his jaw, a little smile blooming on Dean's face. “Go slow at first?”

His eyes narrow at you, taking his fingers off your clit to find himself, gradually guiding his length into your bloody cunt–moaning, “Always,” once he feels how much warmer you are. 

You can’t describe it, but having him in you definitely feels like ecstacy. Every pump was almost overstimulating, the slickness turning you on. The fact that he was in you raw, had your mind spinning in circles. Your walls gripping him as tightly as possible, and your body begging him to keep going. Desperate cries escaped your pretty little mouth. Wrapping your legs around his back so he had no choice but to keep going–whispering quietly, “Don’t stop”, repeatedly in his ear. 

How was sex this blissful? Maybe because you’re more sensitive? Or hornier than usual? Which was hard to believe, it’s virtually impossible because you always wanted him to fuck you senseless. But this was different. You wanted Dean so fervently. The feeling is almost primal…

“Fuuck,” Dean grunted as he pumped his dick into you, “Baby…you feel so good. So warm.” 

His head bobbed down like he couldn’t hold it up anymore, so you held him in your hands–making him look into your lustful eyes. He was breaking already. When he’s close his nose scrunches, his bottom lip quivers, and his eyebrows knot up. He’s mouthing, “I’m close.”

“No–”

“Shit, am I hurting you?” Dean immediately halts his actions, taking himself out of you and sits you up, “I’m sorry. I–we can stop...”

When you giggle, Dean can’t hide his confusion. He’s so adorable when he’s concerned. “I’m fine, my love.” You place a tender kiss on the hand that had made its way to your cheek, “Just didn’t want you cumming yet. I wanna be on top.”

“Don’t scare me like that.” He glares at you as he takes your place on the towel. 

You look at his pelvis before you climb on top of him, and there’s a decent amount of blood coating his dick and thighs. A part of you is guilty for bloodying him up, but the devilish side of you loves the sight. It’s not other people’s or monsters' body fluid on your partner, but it’s your own. No violence caused this—well besides your uterus hating you, but that’s not the point. The point is that he will do anything to make you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Even if it means staining his skin red.

A loud animalistic moan came from Dean once you slipped his cock in you. Grinding your hips slowly at first to really savor the moment, to take in the beautiful man beneath you. His hands gripping your love handles guiding your movements. Small whines leave you as he makes you speed up, making you grasp onto his hips. 

At this point everything is getting you so riled up and you can’t help it. Any insecurity has left you. There was blood that had smeared on Dean’s stomach, most likely from the hand that grabbed his member, and that was the final straw for your self control. Dean noticed the sinister look in your eyes.

“You like seeing that don’t you? Your blood all over me?” He asks behind gritted teeth, pounding your wet and bloody cunt, “Fuck me baby.”

And that’s exactly what you do. You lay yourself into the crook of Dean’s neck and bounce on his hard length. The sound of his skin slapping against yours drives you mad, involuntary cries escape from both of you.

He’s pulling your hair with one hand and gripping your ass with the other, “That’s it, pretty girl,” he slaps your bottom, whispering in your ear, “can feel you tightening around my dick.” Dean then pushes you up slightly, lifts his head up finding one of your breasts, and starts flicking his tongue against your nipple. The hand that leaned you upwards is now kneading your tit.

That was your weakness—him playing with your nipples. They’ve always been sensitive and are the reason for most of your orgasms, which is where you were heading. Fast. Dean’s taken over again. He’s humming into your breast as he takes it in his mouth, and his hips are bucking into yours at an ungodly speed. Your stomach is twisting at the stimulation, your body is shaking. There’s no strength left to support yourself, you begin to sway. Dean eventually guiding you to rest onto him.

“Dean, I’m…I’m cumming.”

“Yeah, angel. Can feel you throbbing. God…” He lets out a sharp exhale, eyes rolling back–he’s so close to spilling into you. Reaching down to pull himself out of your pussy–but you refuse, needing him in every way imaginable. Pulling his hand away from where you two were connected, “I–I can’t hold it. Baby, please!” 

“Cum in me.”

“Wha–”

You grind as fast as you’re able to.

 “You heard me,” seductively exaggerating your next words, “Cum. In. Me.”

“Oh fuuck, yeah–yeah…” Dean howls your name as he releases his load into your swollen hole, the heat from his climax flowing through you. The euphoria that was clouding your judgement slowly wearing off. Breaths are evening out, while you still slowly move yourself up and down–milking little spasms out of Dean until he begs for you to stop.

“Dirty girl, having me cum in you. Didn’t expect you’d like period sex this much.” A huge grin spreads across his face, love in his eyes, “How’s the pain?”

You say as you cup his face with one hand, returning the happiness, “Gone.”

“Good. Also didn’t expect you to get turned on by having your blood covering me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, it’s hot. C’mere.” Grabbing you by the nape of your neck, he pulls you into a soft, sensual kiss. “I felt so close to you, watching how turned on you got. How wild you looked, made me want to give you my children.”

“Well, you did. Technically.” You smirk. A look of defeat washed over him, he was serious. His demeanor makes you compose your humor, “Well, this is a good start then.” 

There’s that adorable smile and those cute crows feet that crinkle around his eyes.

“Let’s wait a little while though, I have a feeling you’re gunna want me to fuck you while you’re on your period more often.” 

“Mmh, how’d you know?”

“Honey, you gave me my first set of red wings and you got so hot and bothered by it. I know you, know what you want.” He gets off the bed and yanks you into his arms, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

—

tags! @aylacavebear @daylighted @ambiguous-avery @deans-spinster-witch (if you want to be untagged, there's no judgement!)

ghostlight gravekeep ghoulboss

y’all i am not ready for more of my family members to die. if you don’t know what’s happening in ontario schools right now here’s a quick recap because I have been absolutely beside myself driving myself crazy as a teacher and i need y’all to know

1. the provincial government has announced that school openings will be delayed by 2 days (Jan 5 instead of Jan 3) in order to hand or N95 masks to staff and install air filteration systems in 3000 CLASSROOMS (which considering, we have 4900 SCHOOLS… you do the math)

2. after announcing the above yesterday they have since said ACTUALLY besties you won’t be receiving any of that till mid january and the filters won’t be installed in 85% of middle schools won’t be given any of those filters. As a secondary teachers there’s a pain in my chest for my elementary teacher colleagues.

3. Quarantine for positive testing educators is now 5 days instead of 10, the qualifier being that the death rate with omicron is “only” 54% (truly what the fuck, we can’t even get into the ableism of that)

4. here’s a fun thing. In one very large school board (Toronto Catholic School Board) having a + result on a Rapid test doesn’t count — you need it on a PCR in order to be approved for those 5 days

5. oh but wait! PCR testing is now limited only to high risk individuals and if you are not one of those you have to pay $180 to get a test done, and while teachers do count as high risk, the backlog for testing is so severe right now that many can’t even get a spot to be tested and so default to the paid version, and we can’t even get INTO the classist and racist underpinnings of that right now

5a) PCR testing is only available to symptomatic high risk people. So if you’re asymptomatic. (like i was for example in March) you can’t get a PCR test without paying. So you will go to work and put EVERYONE YOU COME IN CONTACT WITH AT RISK

6. Ontario has reported a 29.2% positivity rate today (Dec 31). you have a 1 in 3 chance of getting covid generally. In a congregate setting (20+, so any classroom ever because remember! our class sizes have been INCREASING year over year) it’s a 95% chance

I don’t want to have COVID again. I don’t want to watch any of my family go through it again.

But hey, don’t worry. You can still be one of the 1000 people who get to attend a raptors game.

I understand virtual schooling has taken a toll on student and teacher mental health. Believe me I was in the trenches of it. But I think the mental toll of watching people you love die is worse. And if you’ve been in the pandemic unscathed by this, good for you. Some of us haven’t been so lucky

JIB15 | Classic J2 | Sunday panel [video: amberdreams]

Little Black Book | Harry Styles

Description: you’re a famous writer dating Harry, and he finds the notebook you’ve had since you were thirteen. 

A/N: hi idk if the ending is a bit cliche but I spent a long time on this and would really appreciate any feedback you have in whatever form you want to give it! please don’t just consume fics on here, let authors know what you think it means a lot :) 

Content Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 7920

My Writing

      Harry never invades. He asks. Listens. Takes what you give him and fashions it into a map to the center of your heart, like he’s found some side door even you don’t know about. It would be less annoying if it ever actually felt like a trick. Instead, you’ve come to recognize it as one of those invaluable people skills of his he uses to care for the ones he loves and even those he doesn’t know.

       So, you know he hasn’t so much as rifled through the title page of the notebook he’s holding when you walk back into your bedroom with your waters. It may look harmless in his hands, in the way that most things look harmless in his hands because they’re his, but the battered spine and broken and re-tied elastic strap give enough warning. Its contents carry a little more emotional weight than the other journals strewn across your apartment, which is saying something for you.

Keep reading

Daily Dean - Day 35 💚

If I could suck out all his sadness through his cock I would

A lot of the girls on here really need a huge, huge comforting hug from a man with big arms & it's evident more and more each day

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Masterlist | About Me | Ten Years Gone | In the Fields We Lie

My asks are open for yapping!! <3

I have a harry styles fic that takes place during wwi and I’ve been thinking to myself lately, what if I rewrote to to be about dean?? I think it would flow a bit better