#dean winchester x plus!reader smut

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Before I Met Angels - Pt 2 - Now...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus!Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean came for the hunt, but he stayed for you. He shows you exactly why you don't need to be insecure about the thicc juicy parts of you he can't get enough of.

Words: 2.2k

A/N: Thank you for your request, Nonny! You wanted insecure reader who was worried that Dean didn't like her fabulous Goddess body, but he does, and shows her just how much he does by devouring her. I hope this hits the spot.

I actually wrote the back story for this which is Before I Met Angels Pt 1 - Then..., but this is part 2 - now... Enjoy 😘

Warnings: Smut, oral - mainly F receiving, insecurities/comfort, bit of fluff, bit of cheesiness. Surprisingly not much by way of profanity.

***MINORS DO NOT ENTER OR INTERACT***

The sound of the TV blends into the background, secondary to the steady thu-thump of your heartbeat and the whoosh of your pulse in your ears.  The sofa is soft beneath you, perfectly contrasting the firmness of the man you are partially wrapped around.

Dean Winchester had been with you for almost three months, and what months they had been.

You first met when Dean showed up on your doorstep after the ghost of your long dead boyfriend had started killing off your love interests all over town.  Dean had posed as your newest suitor in order to lure the ghost out and your connection had developed from there.

The weeks of pretending to be attracted to each other had resulted in undeniable chemistry and, once your ghost problem had been resolved, you had asked him to stay the night.  Months later, he was still staying the night.

Dean’s hands stroke your waist and hip as you snuggle up against him, his laugh is like poetry, even if it’s born from the most recent episode of Dr Sexy.  He inches your baggy sweater up until he finds bare skin, glancing at you when you tense slightly as his fingers slip under the waistband of your leggings.

You don’t like a lot of things about your body, such as your stomach and ‘thunder thighs’ as you call them, because they aren’t what people think of as attractive.  Dean has never said these things to you, but for someone with a sex drive like his, how can he prefer how you look over some of the women you have seen hitting on him since you’ve known him?

When you look up at Dean he is staring down at you, reading the anxiety on your face with a light frown, but rather than draw attention to it and make you explain what he already knows, he simply sits and adjusts himself so your legs are across his lap rather than you being lay against each other.

Just so arranged, he begins to give you a foot rub, gradually working his way up your calves while he glances less and less frequently at the TV.  When he slides his hands up the tops of your thighs, you close your eyes but he doesn’t stop.  Dean strokes and kneads your thighs before teasing with his fingertips over your clothes, feather-light touches causing a delightful tingling sensation to creep up to your core.

When his hand dips between your legs and gently glances over your covered mound you inhale sharply, earning a sly smirk from him.  That bastard knows exactly what he’s doing.  He strokes there again with the pads of his fingers circling until you clamp your thighs around his hand, trapping him.

“Just where I wanna be,” he flashes you a wicked grin as he continues to apply pressure and motion right over your most sensitive spot.  “I love it even more when you grip my hips like this… or my head.”

“Dean…”  You admonish half-heartedly.  You don’t want him to stop.  You never want him to stop.  “Please…”

“You want something, baby girl?” 

Of course you do, and he knows it.  Dean always knows what you want, it’s shameful how easily he reads the signs your body displays for him.

You nod, reaching for him.  “Just you.”

You want to pull him down onto the couch with you again and have him kiss you and make you forget all the hateful things your traitorous brain tells you about yourself and about how he feels about you.  How can someone as perfect as he is really be attracted so someone like you?

“Oh, you’ll have me, but I got something I wanna do first,” he says, reaching under your ass for the waistband of your leggings.  “Now lift,” he commands.

Dean slides your leggings down over your ass and up your raised legs until you are bare; he has brought your panties off with your leggings, exposing you to him completely.

Your instinct is to pull your sweater down over your stomach but he stops you with a kind but firm grip on your hands.  Releasing you, he bites his lip as he strokes the bare skin of your legs, abdomen and hips.  Embarrassed at being so exposed, you look away from him.

“Hey,” his finger under your chin stops you and turns your gaze back to him.  “Eyes on me, understand?”

You nod nervously, and he gets up to strip himself down to his jockey shorts before kneeling on the floor.

He’s half hard already – the firm shape of his arousal visible underneath the straining grey of his shorts – and he’s getting harder every second he looks at you with that hunger in his eyes.

Dean Winchester has never has ever taken anything from you he hasn’t given in return ten-fold, and he’s not about to break that habit now.  He tugs you towards him, his hands under your knees, and turns you to access your exposed heat.  Glistening with your need for him, you feel his breaths as a rhythmic cooling breeze.

“This,” he says lifting one of your legs up and bringing his lips to your ankle where he lays a kiss, “is sexy.”

You blush and look away, earning you a nip with his teeth right were he had kissed before, making your eyes snap back to where his eyes burn into you with heat and a warning not to look away again.  Soothing his bite afterwards with his tongue, he makes a wet meandering trail up your calf where he lays yet more kisses.

“And this,” he says, holding your gaze while his lips and short beard leave your skin sensitive and hot.  “This is gorgeous.”

Your face is aflame as he moves steadily higher, stroking his hands and lips up your inner thigh.

“But this,” he sucks a light mark into the delicate skin of your thigh, causing you to moan and pull away from the slight aching reminder of his mouth.  “This is divine.”

Dean slides his hand right up to the apex of your thighs where he blows a more cooling breath against the moisture pooling between your lips, laying kisses around where you want him most, but never actually touching you there.  He hums with satisfaction as you squirm when he pulls away.

“Patience is a virtue.”  The cheeky bastard says with a smugness he tries to hide behind a coy smile.  It doesn’t work and he looks devilishly amused as he raises your other leg to start the process again.

All you can do is watch him as he lavishes the skin of your legs with his kisses and the occasional scrape of his stubble.  When you flinch, he soothes you with obscene tongue-work that you know is going to ruin you when he finally reaches his goal.  All the while, his eyes hold yours as he does to you the things he knows you deserve.

Stroking his hand up the undersides of your calf, he guides your leg over his shoulder and slides his other up the inside of your other thigh.  He meets your gaze once more when he leans in with his lips a deeper pink from his kisses and the green of his eyes a mere sliver against the black of his pupils.  If there is any doubt that Dean Winchester is into you, this is your sign to throw that doubt away.

He places a gentle sucking kiss over your sensitive spot.  The tightly wound anticipation of this contact makes your thighs twitch, and you see his eyes crinkle with a smile as he does it again, sucking a little firmer this time, and again, until you moan his name.

Dean has tasted you before, on his fingers or on yours, but never had full access to the buffet table, so to speak.  Your sweet muskiness is alluring, and he devours you like a messy burger, his slurps obscene, his moans erotic.  He brings you so close to the edge multiple times, teasing you with the orgasm he knows you want but denying you at the last second.

You beg him to finish you but he smirks and pulls back, his beard dark with your slick and his lips red and swollen.

He leans his head on your plush thigh as he keeps your pleasure alive with his suckling kisses and the flat swipe of his tongue.  You’re practically pulsating with need when he finally speaks.

“God damn beautiful.”  His voice cracks with desire as he takes the sight of you in; burning with pent up need, twitching and writhing with desperation.  “Think it’s time I give you what you need, baby girl.”

You sigh with relief, though the white-hot tension in your core still consumes you, just the promise of release is enough to relax your frenzied senses.

Dean buries his face in your wet heat once more with renewed fervour, reigniting the fuse within you and causing you to crest the mountain of pleasure he had built for you. It bursts within you like a dam, cascading forth in waves of intensity far sharper than anything you have felt before, even with him.  The guttural cry that escapes your throat makes him moan against your flesh.

Just when you think it is starting to fade, Dean slides his fingers into you, changing the sensation altogether, making it deeper and more well-rounded, and you don’t stop coming – or at least you feel like you don’t stop.  When another climax crests you sink below the surface of the surging force he���s creating within you.

You reach out, fisting your fingers in his hair, not to draw him closer but to pull him away as his ministrations on your clit become too intense.  He chuckles as he rises, looking down at you with a devout reverence you had never seen from him before.  It shakes you but it doesn’t last long, his grip changes and so does his expression, becoming more focused and hungrier.

He looms over you, his arousal making a mount Everest-like peak in the topography of his underwear and abdomen, its dark peak a sign of just how hungry he is for you.

“I need you, Dean.”  You reach for him and gasp out as he curls his fingers more ruthlessly inside you.  Tears form in your eyes.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”  He groans when you bear down around his fingers.  “So sweet, so tight, so… sexy.”

You go to protest, to tell him you’re none of those things but he doubles his pace, working his hand in and against you more frantically, bringing forth an explosion of pleasure that wipes the words from your brain.

“That’s my girl,” he praises when you spasm around his fingers once more, your slick coating more of his hand.  “Show me how you’re gonna wreck me when I finally put my cock in you.”

When you come this time, your back arches and you’re forced to close your eyes tight.  You shake and wimper in the aftershocks and Dean withdraws his hand, smoothing soft caresses up and down your thighs and you are overwhelmed by the sheer power of it.  He has never taken you like this before, never reduced you to a speechless mess.

Dean sits on the couch and pulls you to him, stroking your hip and back, your arm and thigh and then, when the shaking subsides, your face.  He brushes back your hair, tilting your chin up so he can lay a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Don’t you ever question how beautiful you are,” he says firmly.  “I’m not the kind of guy who hangs around if he don’t want to, you know that.”

You nod, “I know but-”

“Ain't no buts,” he takes your had and lowers it to his straining hard cock.  “I want you too, always have. See?”

You smile deviously, the idea of edging him like he did to you is becoming more and more appealing.  You stroke him firmly, sitting up to flash him sultry smile, licking your lips as you lower yourself towards him.

The way you kiss the tip has his head falling back against the couch, the slow swirl of your tongue makes fists of his hands in the cushions.

“You, know,” he says breathily, “before I met angels, I would have said you were one – jesusmaryandjoseph -” he moans low and throaty.

“Mmm-hmmm.”  You mumble with him in your mouth, sucking him in deeper, goading him to continue.

“But now…,” he swallows hard, licking his suddenly dry lips, “now I think you’re the devil.”

You chuckle deeply at the idea that you’re more of a tease than he is.  After what he just did to you, no less.  The notion that Dean Winchester, of all people, wants you is something you still don’t fully accept but every day he keeps showing you it’s true.  Every day he’s there with you is one more day you’re thankful that he showed up on your doorstep with his cheap suit and the promise of a different future.

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x plus!reader smut #dean winchester x plus reader smut #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #spn #supernatural smut #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #dean winchester is hotter than the fires of hell #cloudy's writing #dean x reader

[fatecantstopme]

Spell Bound

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies

"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.

You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.

He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.

"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."

"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."

You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."

"You think?"

You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.

About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.

"I think I found it," you said aloud.

At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.

You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."

"Seriously?"

He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."

You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."

He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."

You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."

He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.

"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."

Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.

"Dean?" you asked tentatively.

"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."

"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"

He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.

You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.

"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.

Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"

You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"

Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"

"You can smell my skin?"

He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"

"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."

You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."

"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."

You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.

"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.

You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.

"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."

Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.

"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"

Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."

"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."

"It's called what?"

"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."

"Die? Is there a cure?"

You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."

"I have to what?"

"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"

"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."

"How long do I have?"

You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.

"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.

"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."

Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.

"Shit."

"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.

"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"

"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

"Another story?"

"It could take a lot longer."

"Great," you mumbled.

"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.

"Dean?" you questioned softly.

"Just drive, (Y/N)."

You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.

Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.

"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.

You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."

He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."

You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."

He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."

"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."

You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.

"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.

Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.

"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."

"It's alright...use me."

He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."

You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."

That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.

He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.

His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.

He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.

He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."

You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."

He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.

You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.

Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.

His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.

You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.

"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."

You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.

"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."

Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.

His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.

You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"

He shook his head. "Need more."

He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.

He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.

Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.

"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.

He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.

Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.

You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.

After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.

You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.

It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.

You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.

Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.

When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.

"Better?" you whispered.

He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.

Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.

His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.

His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.

His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.

You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.

Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.

When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.

Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.

He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.

You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.

You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.

To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.

"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.

His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.

"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.

He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.

This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.

You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."

He groaned. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.

"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.

"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.

You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.

"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"

You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.

He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.

He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.

He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.

His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.

Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."

You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."

His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"

You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.

"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"

You nodded again.

"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."

Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.

The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.

He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.

He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.

You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.

Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.

"A little," you said honestly.

He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."

You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."

There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.

"Shower?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't think I can stand."

A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."

You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.

"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.

He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.

You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.

You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.

Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.

You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?

As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."

"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.

Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.

"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."

Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."

"But--"

He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."

Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...

Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.

"Umm...whatcha doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"

You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.

Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"

"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."

He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"

"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."

"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"

You nodded.

"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."

"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.

He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"

You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.

He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."

Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.

"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."

"You--you love me?"

"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."

"You're in love--with me?"

He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."

"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.

"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.

You nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He grinned widely. "Yeah?"

You nodded, cheeks turning red.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.

"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."

"But I'm comfortable," you whined.

He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"

You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."

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#supernatural #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader smut #dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfic #supernatural smut

[hauntedwitch04]

Little one

Sam Winchester x reader

Words: about 3.9k words

Warnings: smut, smut, I forgot to say smut, DESTIEL BECAUSE I LOVE THEM, dirty talk

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 5: Size kink

"Hey little one do you need a hand?" You hear Sam ask, hearing in his tone of voice that silly little sly smile you hate so much. You huff as still with your back turned you don't even turn to look at him, knowing you couldn't help but melt under the gaze of his green eyes. You feel him coming up behind you, his chest brushing against your back as you see his hand reach for the book you've been reaching for for more than ten minutes. His presence behind you almost makes your knees give way.

The two of you have been playing this game for weeks now, provoking the other but at the same time neither of you seems to have the courage to take matters into their own hands and drag the other into your bedroom. A few days ago Sam realized how sensitive you are to the size difference between the two of you. You have never considered yourself short, you have always been average, but next to him you look little more than a smurf. He is literally a giant, and that doesn't mean he is merely tall, but because of the life you lead he has developed a lot of muscles in his arms and chest, as well as perfect abs, and that makes him imposing, and fuck if that isn't attractive. You get lost in thinking what it must be like to be under him, enclosed between his warm body and his bed, but almost immediately you are interrupted by a cough behind you. You turn and see him with a raised eyebrow looking at you amused. Now the two of you are face to face, or rather you have your face at his chest level, and in fact you have to look up to stare into his eyes.

The man in front of you seems to be quite amused by this, in fact he leans forward a little, thinking you would move for that movement, and instead you stand still, not showing weakness.

"Careful little one your neck will hurt if you keep holding it like that. Maybe we should buy a stepladder at least you'd be able to look me in the eye without any trouble." Says Sam, a breath away from your lips.

"You giant asshole, I swear I'll cut your balls off if-" You start to threaten him, but you are interrupted by a new voice. Castiel has just entered the room and is looking at you with a questioning expression before shouting.

"Dean they are doing it again." He says to the other hunter who immediately responds to the angel, threatening you as well.

"Home run before you see things you don't want to see. And you two stop circling around the fact that you want to fuck. There's too much sexual tension in the air and no one can take it anymore. You better find a solution or I swear I'll have the next witch I meet charm you." Says the brother of the man in front of you, from the kitchen, making both you and Sammy blush.

"Fuck you Dean." Sam manages to say, not looking you in the eye. Immediately you turn away from each other, going in different directions.

You arrive in your room, close the door, and lean against it as you take a breath of relief.

You can't deny that there is not that sexual tension between the two of you that Dean accuses you of, but at the same time you don't have the courage to take that extra step for fear of being rejected because treacherously you think Sam intends all that as a kind of game between the two of you, but nothing more. You stay for a moment thinking again about the feeling of his body so big and muscular against yours. You felt so small and helpless, and yet you were not afraid, in fact all your brain could process were rather spicy situations with the youngest of the Winchesters. Then suddenly you violently detach yourself from the door, as your mind was again training itself in those overly specific thoughts of what it would be like to be fucked by Sam, placed on all fours on his bed, while he on top of you, with his chest pressed against your back, holding the bed keyboard with one strong hand to make stronger, firmer thrusts. You get lost in thinking about what it must feel like to have his kisses on your bare back with the light beard he has, what one of his strong hands gripping one of your hips must feel like, or his cock pushing in. You decide it's time for a cold shower at the very moment you're left thinking about whether the size of his member is directly proportional to everything else, hoping that at least that might bring you back to your senses a little.

You've never been much of a person who likes to go to parties, but you certainly can't say no to a nice evening with your favorite people spent drinking and singing your favorite songs. By now it is very late and both Dean and Cas have gone to bed, no matter how much the last one doesn't sleep, but by now since they had declared themselves to each other they had created a routine, thanks to which the oldest of the Winchesters is finally able to sleep without nightmares. You are happy forni your friends, they both deserve the small portion of happiness that fate has reserved for them, and on the contrary you wish they had fi more. Since they've gone to bed, though, you and Sam are left alone, with more than ample amount of alcohol in your system, which is a bit dangerous considering the thoughts some days that led you to take a shower so cold that even penguins would beat their beaks for cold.

You and young Winchester spent those days avoiding each other, and when you couldn't, all you could do was avoid each other's gaze and not blush.

You remain silent again, enjoying that peace to which you are not very accustomed. You are sitting side by side, and you can't help but slowly move closer to his body, attracted by the warmth it produces.

It seems like hours go by, and maybe it's only a few minutes, but eventually he interrupts that state of stillness.

"Can I ask you a question?" Sammy asks, turning toward you, and you can't help but be a little annoyed by his question, but you nod as you down some more alcohol. He seems to consider what words to use.

"Have you ever thought of anything more than this between us?" The man asks, looking you in the eye. You pause with your glass in midair, petrified by that question. For a moment it crosses your mind that he has figured out how you feel about him, but then you look at him and see him waiting for your answer and realize that he is really only asking you out of pure curiosity.

"Why did you think of that?" You ask in turn defensively. You see him hesitate for a moment as you did a few seconds earlier, but eventually he flashes you a smile, regaining all the resourcefulness he has shown in this last period.

"Oh little one, I'm afraid I'd scare you if I told you all the things I've been thinking about doing with you." He says in a rough, sensual voice, and you immediately feel a shiver go down your spine. You feel him move closer to you, while you remain still, afraid that if you moved even a finger, this whole situation would vanish like a soap bubble. You think more than once that all this is a dream produced by the alcohol in your system, then you feel his lips on your neck and realize that it is all true.

"Well you could show me a couple of things you've imagined doing with me, and I'll tell you if they're the same things I've thought of." I say in a whisper, as he continues to nibble on my neck, leaving sweet kisses at times.

"You're going to fucking kill me sooner or later." Sam comments before standing up, and with a smooth, quick movement, hoisting me onto his shoulder. I let out a soft yelp, before starting to bombard him with threats and questions.

"Sam Winchester, let me go now! Where are you taking me?" I ask, trying not to give away that just that simple gesture that showcased his strength and how much bigger he was physically than you was turning you on.

"In the room, unless you want to be fucked here where anyone could walk in at any moment. I didn't take you for that kind of person, but we could always try it another time." He says chuckling, while you in response punch him lightly in the back. "Besides, from here I have a first-class view of your ass." He continues nonchalantly, and you can't help but blush.

"Sam!" You take him back, but he immediately doesn't give you time to continue.

"Little one, don't be an angel, because we both know how many times you've thought about doing dirty things with me, and you can't even lie because it was all over your face." Notices Sam, scolding you as one scolds a child who has eaten too much candy.

"Like you had a marble mask on, and you couldn't see all the times you looked at my boobs." You comment, as you try to figure out by now where you are, but the corridors of the bunker are all dark and you can't quite get your bearings.

"It's not my fault you have particularly nice tits." He replies, as if it were a given, and you can't help but laugh at the situation. Your laughter is interrupted, however, when Sam throws you onto what you recognize to be his bed.

The playful air that had been created disappears in an instant and gives way to a new tension, steeped in passion and mischief. The youngest Winchester slides all the way down your body until his plump lips are inches from yours. The feel of his body, so large compared to yours, is even better than you had imagined. He spends a few seconds teasing you, kissing all over your face and the area near your mouth, but he doesn't touch your lips a single time, until you slip your hands into his hair and force him to do so. He smiles against your lips, and when you pull away to get some air, he teases you.

"Someone is a little impatient, what can't you wait to feel my cock inside you anymore?" He asks rhetorically, while his hands begin working to remove the several layers of clothes you are wearing.

"All promises Winchester, it's time to keep them." You say, trying to answer him again in kind as pleasure begins to work its way through you.

"You'll regret this shamelessness little one, another time, not today, but next time I won't be as good to you as I will be this time."

Quickly he removes the few clothes you have on while you do the same to him, a little groggy from pleasure and a little from alcohol.

He kisses your neck, leaving red, biting marks as he slowly moves down to your breasts, to remove the bra you still have on. He takes one of your nipples in his teeth, while the other teases it with his hand.

Once he is done torturing your breasts, he goes down to your navel with his kisses and then gently bites your panties. A shiver runs through you again as you feel his lips graze the skin of your legs, while he stares into your eyes and pulls them off with such slowness that you feel faint before long at how hard your heart is beating.

"You better get moving Winchester." You try to threaten him, once he completely peels off the penultimate layer of clothing that stood between you and him, since he still has his boxers on.

"Or what small thing? I don't think you're in a position to threaten me." He comments amused, before returning to your center, and leaving sweet kisses all around in your inner thigh. You can't help but sigh as you slip a hand into his soft, long hair, trying to take him where you most desire.

"Fuck you." That's all you can say in response, and he can't help but laugh. Eventually Sam lets you guide him where you want him, and finally his lips meet those of your pussy. You can't help but let out a moan mixed with a scream as the man squeezes your clit between his teeth as he had done with your nipples earlier. With his tongue he continues to lick you, slowly increasing the pleasure.

Suasult when you also feel his fingers join in the torture, as he rhythmically works them into you. His fingers are long and big, enough to reach all the right places, and make you wriggle between the covers of the now unmade bed, making you clutch the sheet so tight you thought it would tear.

Eventually, faster than it had ever happened to you, you feel the orgasm coming, with the impetuosity of a wave ready to sweep whatever it meets in its path.

"Sam- fuck- please don't stop." You beg him, as you continue to move your hips under his mouth to create more friction.

"Oh my little one is cumming?" He asks, pulling away from you slightly.

"Sam, please." You beg him again as you run a hand through his hair again, and he can't help but moan as you do so.

He doesn't respond to you, but his actions speak for themselves as he again begins to lick your center as he speeds his fingers entering your pussy. A few minutes pass and you finally reach orgasm, and for a second you think you lose contact with the whole world. All you hear in your ears is blood pulsing, your eyes narrowed as your lips hold back a scream, while your hands continue to cling tightly to Sam's hair. Once you regain your breath and some clarity you stop and look at Sammy who is now looking at you seriously. Around your mouth you can still see the remnants of the otherworldly experience you just had.

"Are you okay?" He asks you as he licks his lips.

"Never felt better." You answer, as you signal for him to come up. He complies and comes with his face at the same height as yours. You kiss him softly, and he can't help but do the same. It is very different from the kiss you shared earlier, passionate and impetuous, but no less sensual and beautiful. Then suddenly you take him by surprise and reverse the situation by finding yourself on top of him.

"Now it's my turn to torture you a little." You whisper in his ear before moving down to his boxers. You slip them off him the same way he took off your underwear, which is with your teeth, and you hear him cursing as you brush against his now very obvious erection. Then unable to hold back you take his member with your hands, and like everything in your body it seems to be huge compared to you, but in this case you don't really know if it is your point of view or is objective. You tease his entire length with your tongue, before starting to suck lightly at the tip, while moving your hand along everything else you don't touch. Immediately his hand, almost as big as your head, gets stuck in your hair and begins to send you further and further down, at the pace he likes best. That's how Sam begins to fuck your mouth, at first slower, going steadily increasing, so that the last thrusts you feel his cock coming down your throat, and you can't help but get aroused when you feel the air miss you. He continues this game for a few minutes, until with a series of moans where he screams your name he doesn't cum in your mouth, and you swallow everything he gives you.

"That's my girl." Sammy comments as he catches his breath, but you see a spark in his eyes that tells you you're not even close to the end.

"So far we've been playing, now comes the main course." He continues, as again he reverses the situation, bringing you under him. You feel one of your thighs open, and with his knee he stimulates your pussy. Immediately you let out a scream that he silences with his lips. You begin to kiss more and more passionately as you feel him driving his cock in front of your entrance. The moment he is about to push in for the first time, you stop him by asking him a question?

"Are you sure it fits?" You ask slightly frightened by his size, and excited at the same time. He looks at you and chuckles a little, throwing his head into the crook of your neck.

"It's just that I've never had anyone so ...great, it's no laughing matter Winchester!" You continue, chuckling in turn. He kisses you gently on the nose before answering you.

"I promise in case it does you, you'll just have to tell me and we'll stop right away, okay?" He asks seriously, watching you as he moves a strand of hair away from your face. "Besides, I think the orgasm has prepared you well honey." He finishes by winking at you. He kisses you again but this one more gently, trying to distract you. You feel him enter you, and for a moment you think you have died and are in your own little piece of heaven.

"Are you okay little one?" Sam asks seeing your closed eyes and clenched fists holding the pillow.

"Oh God, Winchester you better move your ass and fuck me before I come at this exact moment." You whisper, as you release one hand to bring him to you and kiss him. You feel him begin to thrust in and out of you, picking up a rather fast pace as he stimulates one of your breasts with one hand and his lips are busy making more marks on your neck, lest he cry out your name in pleasure. You are not much better off, so much so that at one point you feel an iron taste of blood in your mouth from how much you bit your lips to keep Cas and Dean from hearing you. You keep moving in unison, seeking pure pleasure.

"God baby, you are so perfect. You don't know how much I've dreamed of having you under me, screaming my name, rocking your world." Sam comments, before kissing one of your breasts. "I love your body, so small compared to mine, so much that I'm afraid I'll break you every time I touch you, but at the same time so sinful that I can't stop myself from doing the worst sins they ever came up with even in hell."

You fail to respond too caught up in everything the boy is making you feel. You feel like it's the first time in years you've breathed again, the first time you've really tasted oxygen.

"Sam, please, I'm going to-" You are interrupted by a kiss from him.

"Me too baby." He replies after pulling away from your lips. "Your pussy is squeezing my cock so hard, I think I'm about to go crazy." He comments, and it seems that his words are the keys to reach again that already before, only with his fingers had you tasted, but that was but a paltry appetizer, this was of the magnitude of a wedding feast. Your whole body quivers with force, as your center, in pleasure, tightens even tighter around his size, making you feel the size of his member even more.

Just as Sam's words were for you, for him it seems that your orgasm triggers his, in fact when you finally seem to have regained some mental clarity, after spending several minutes with your mind clouded, drowsy with pleasure, you feel your womb being filled with his seed, and you have another orgasm, smaller than before, but still quite important.

It is some time before both of you have caught your breath, in each other's arms. You remain in silence enjoying the warmth of the naked body of the person you love by your side. Then without saying a word Sam moves to your side and encircles you with his arms, having spread a blanket over your uncovered bodies. You fall asleep within minutes, with a smile on your lips, both of you happy to be close to the one you love, and especially happy to know that the one you love loves you back.

BONUS (I can't help it, I love bonuses too much :) )

Dean sits at the kitchen table as Cas hands him a steaming cup of coffee. He thanks him with a whisper before sipping his drink in silence. The only noise in the room is that of the liquid slipping over his lips as the two lovers stare into the void, lost in their own thoughts. Eventually it is the angel who breaks the silence.

"We need to soundproof the rooms better." He comments, and Dean can make no more than a sound of approval. They had not slept a wink because of your shouting, and as happy as they were to know that now the tension between the two of you had been cleared up, they also did not want to hear how their nephew was created, since his brother and you had not made much effort to be quiet. And this was not the first time. Since you had come out to each other now almost a month ago, every night you had done nothing but shout each other's names in pleasure, so much so that often both Dean and Cas had decided to go for a drive, but they couldn't take it anymore.

"You're damn right." Dean says before taking another sip of coffee. "You know I almost preferred it when they hadn't come out, now I'm afraid to turn the corner and watch them procreate on the library table." Dean comments amused, finishing his drink as he sees his boyfriend shoot him a look and a smile.

"As if we never did." Cas says, laughing.

"But they don't know that." Dean replies, giving him a wink, then getting up and leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead and heading out of the room, obviously checking to make sure you are not in it.

TAGLIST

@laurennnomg @deanwinchestersgirl87 @samanddeansannoyingsis @ash04w3 @l3viathanpup @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @wafflezo @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @shodowbane09 @acidicpickle @supernatural-lvr

#hauntedwitch04's writing #kinktober 2023 #sam winchester x plus size reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x reader smut #supernatural x reader #dean x castiel

[zepskies]

A Little Danger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader (Latina)

Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

AN: Couch sex, basically. This is another one for the Espresso-verse! Includes a call back to Devour Me.

Word Count: 2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smutty smut in a semi-public place. Hair pulling, flirty teasing, endearments, “twist” ending.

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Usually, Dean likes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair.

Like now, on a rare day of quiet relaxation after a long hunt. When Mary’s out and Sam’s on a grocery run. And Dean’s laid out across the couch in the library, arms crossed, earbuds in while Zeppelin’s “Going to California” plays in stereo, his head and shoulders resting against your plush thigh.

Your feet are propped up on the coffee table, your mostly bare legs crossed at the ankles. You have a book in one hand while you’ve been absently massaging his head…

But when you start to get weary of reading, in your boredom, your clever fingers become less soothing through his light brown hair, and more playful in their ministrations. You start to push his hair in the opposite direction, making it spike forward in disarray.

Dean frowns. You can’t see it, but you sense the change, in the way he stops bobbing his head lightly in time with the music.

You bite back a smile and continue your little game, even tugging a little on the strands when you push them forward. Like rubbing a cat the wrong way.

Letting out an annoyed breath through his nose, Dean takes out one earbud.

“What. Are you doing?” he asks.

It takes everything within you not to laugh.

“You’re my erizito,” you reply, smiling. You take a peek at his profile and catch the way his brows furrow.

“What the hell’s that?” he asks.

“My little hedgehog,” you translate the Spanish endearment for him, and you tease him, tugging again on his soft strands.

You finally have to giggle at the way he looks back at you from the corner of his eye. You get maybe one more time to sweep your fingers through his hair the wrong way, before he grabs your hand and turns over.

Your resulting squeal turns into laughter when he yanks his earbuds off and plucks your book out of your hand.

“Eh, eh! Don’t lose my place,” you warn, stopping him from closing the book all the way. He allows you to dog-ear your page, but he then tosses the book onto the coffee table to join his phone and earbuds.

“Come ‘ere,” he mutters.

Then he grabs your crossed legs and manhandles you beneath him on the couch. You allow it with a yelp of surprise and much giggling when he jostles you, pulling you down by your hips. Dean lowers himself between your legs, where he’s so often welcome, and settles his body over yours.

You smirk in his face. His hair is all kinds of fucked up.

He can see you’re admiring your handiwork. Little hedgehog, huh?

With a shake of his head, he bows down and silences your teasing with a kiss.

Your eyes fall closed. You breathe in and utter a sound of contentment. You frame his face with your hands and follow the familiar dance of his lips against yours.

A delicious push and pull that has his teeth grazing your full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair. His other arm is perched high above your head, giving him leverage to completely cage you with his broad, heavy frame.

But it’s a good heavy. You like the feel of him laid out over you, protective and claiming all at once. And he likes the feeling of every soft curve of yours; thighs, breasts, and soft middle all a welcoming place for him to rest—and then ravage.

His lips veer away from your mouth, allowing you both to catch your breath. He burns a warm, sloppy path along your jawline. You wrap your arms around him and splay your hands across his back. They slide lower as he moves down, and down your neck.

“Babe,” you prompt quietly in his ear. You can’t help but smile. “We’ve gotten in trouble on this couch before.”

As in, you both have been caught buck ass naked and tangled together on this couch. By his brother. Twice.

Dean smirks, just before he starts to tease the shell of your ear with his tongue.

“Tell me you don’t like a little danger,” he says. 

Right, you think, with a shudder at his tongue. Or, he just has no fucking shame.

You have to giggle regardless. The trembling in your chest moves both of you, makes the shape of Dean’s smile press into your skin. He continues his downward path and rucks up your shirt.

Your knees bend further on reflex and squeeze his hips when his tongue dips between your breasts, still pushed up by your bra. You arch your back so he can slip a hand under your back and unclip the white lace. He slides it off your body, along with getting your shirt up and over your head.

Your hands dive under his layers of red plaid and black undershirt, sliding up and down the smooth slopes of his back, grazing with your nails, getting him worked up enough to have him yank off the layers himself.

He’s left in his jeans, which begin to find friction against your clothed center through the little shorts you often wear around the bunker. Dean both likes them and hates them.

Likes them, because you fill them out well, and he likes getting a handful of your ass (like he’s doing now, while he begins to rock the hard bulge in his jeans against your core while kissing you hungrily).

He also hates these little spandex shorts, because he’d rather his brother not get to see you in them. Still, Dean gets too much enjoyment out of slipping his fingers under them, squeezing your thigh, letting his thumb brush down towards your center.

Already your pussy’s throbbing.

“Need you,” you pant against his lips.

It’s been a bit too long since you two have had this kind of time alone together, not to mention the energy to fool around. It’s making you not really give a fuck about being out in the open in the middle of the library, when your shared bedroom is just down the hall.

Dean nods, then he finally palms one of your breasts like he’s reacquainting himself with an old friend. He rolls a budding nipple between his fingers and moans when he gets the other into his mouth, swirling with his tongue.

He drags a moan out of you too. You delve your hand into his wrecked hair and grip tight to keep him there.

You find yourself writhing underneath him, your hips rolling against his with need.

“Dean…” Your voice is pleading.

“Okay, I gotcha,” he says against your skin. He drags down your little shorts by the hem and reveals bare ass against the couch cushions. He hums with interest. “No panties today?”

“Surprised you didn’t notice,” you quip.

Though you do the work of unclipping his belt and helping him shimmy out of the jeans, letting them pool to the floor alongside your clothes. You roll down his boxer briefs far enough to let his cock spring free. He grabs your arm and utters a deep groan at the way you handle him, with a gentle but firm hand along his shaft.

“Guess I’ve been distracted,” he admits. He presses a forehead against your shoulder and bucks into your hand, the more you tease him. “Fuck, how long’s it been since—”

“A couple weeks,” you answer him. You begin to kiss down his neck, occasionally nipping his skin. “Too long.”

“Too damn long,” he agrees, with another sound of pleasure. He stops your hand so he can concentrate on getting you ready. He slips a long finger down your slit and between the wet folds of your pussy, where you’re already soaking for him, coating his digit.

“Fuck,” he mutters again, “all this for me, baby?”

You breathe a laugh and drag your nails down the back of his neck. “Always.”

Dean grins. Just to be thorough, he slips two fingers into your wet channel. He revels at the way you hold him close by the back of his neck and moan encouragements into his ear. But you cry out when his thumb finds your clit, and circles it with precision. Then the rest of his fingers open you up and rub against your most sensitive places.

As your inner walls tighten, so does your hand; it moves back into his hair so you have something better to hold onto. 

“Dean,” you utter a warning. He nods and withdraws his hand from inside you. He peeks over the couch again, just to make sure no one’s coming. You both know this is about to be quick and dirty.

You both are panting when he grasps your hips and gives himself a better angle. You hook your thighs around his waist and give him an encouraging nod. With that, Dean positions himself at your entrance and slowly sheathes his cock deep inside you.

You release a shuddering breath, pressing your head back into the cushions. Your hair is a tangled mess fanning underneath you. He still has a hand planted on the couch’s arm above your head; you grasp his arm for stability. Dean rubs one of your thighs, in part to also get himself together as your inner walls spasm tight around him.

Fuck, it has been a while.

But he’s making up for lost time. He gives you long, steady strokes at first, letting you feel every inch of his cock as he drives back into you. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine and you arch against him, your hands clasped on his arms.

Your heels pressing into his ass spur him on and speed up his rhythm, until he’s hitting so hard and deep against your cervix that it almost hurts. It’s a mix of intense pleasure tinged with that briefest bit of pain as he also hits your G-spot over and over.

But a few purposeful swipes of his thumb over your clit ensures that you come with him when he finally spills into you. He buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder, and a ragged grunt rolls from his throat as his release truly hits him.

You hold him to you, your own thighs quivering along with his last few strokes inside you. That hot coil snaps and you let out a gasping moan—one he swallows up with a deep kiss.

“Jesus,” you breathe, after he releases your lips. Dean catches his breath and gives you a shrug, despite his smug grin.

You smirk and once again sweep your hand through his ridiculous hair. It’s even more wild than before. You pull your hands through it, sliding down his neck on both sides. 

“I stand corrected,” you say slyly. “Now you’re my erizote.”

Dean snorts. “And that would be?”

“My big hedgehog,” you tease.

Dean rolls his eyes, even as his face warms. He tries not to laugh in the face of your unending giggles.

Neither of you register the footsteps coming closer until it’s just about too late.

“Dean, are you—Oh!”

His face falls, and his eyes widen when they meet his mother’s over the back of the couch.

“Shit!” he exclaims, covering you with his body when you gasp. But it’s not really you that you’re worried about her seeing.

No mother should have to see her adult son’s naked ass.

Mary stands there behind the couch with her hand over her eyes.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t see…anything,” she says. Usually she’s a better liar.

“I’m so sorry, Mary,” you try to say, but she waves you off.

“Just…clean the sofa. Okay, guys?” she says. Then she walks away without looking back.

Dean grimaces like he’s in pain.

“Sorry, Mom,” He calls to her retreating back.

He releases a breath and lowers his forehead into the crook of your neck. Your body shakes with involuntary giggles while you hold him, soothing him with a caress of his cheek. He’s still buried deep inside you, but by now he’s released your thighs from being wrapped around his hips.

“At least it wasn’t Sam this time,” you offer.

“I don’t know what’s worse at this point,” Dean grumbles.

You bite your lip. “Well, I mean, I did warn you—”

Dean gives you a playful slap on the ass to shut you up. But your resulting squeal and laughter just makes him smile.

AN: 😅 This one-shot started out innocent, I swear. What was once a simple "chilling on the couch" drabble turned into smut somehow, but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think. 😘

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "In Bad Weather." It acts as the finale of the Espresso-verse, though I'm still writing stories within the world to fill in the gaps when different prompts come to mind:

Summary: You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along? [Set in S15 - “Fix It” for season finale]

▶️ Next Story: In Bad Weather

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords

#A Little Danger #dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x latina!reader #dean winchester x plus sized!reader #dean winchester x plus size!reader #Midnight Espresso verse #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x poc!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #poc!reader #latina!reader #plus sized reader #dean x reader #dean x you #zepskies writes

[lokigonnakmsforbucky]

Sam Winchester NSFW Alphabet

I needed some Sam recently so why not an NSFW Alphabet :) enjoy :))

Rating: MINORS DNI 18+

A= Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Sam first thought after sex is you. How you are feeling, are you sore? etc. He is very sweet and makes sure to cuddle you for a little while before cleaning you up and giving you anything you need before even thinking of himself. You come first. Always.

B= Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and their partners)

Even though he might not like to admit it. He is very confident in his body. He is most confident in his hands. Mostly because of how his fingers have an effect on you.

Sam loves everything about you, but if he had to choose he loves the way your hips are curved, so it is easy to grab you ;)

C=CUM (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a nasty person.)

If you gave him an okay, he would always cum in you. The way it drips out of you turns him on more.

But, if he couldn't that way he loves seeing it on your tits or face.

D=Dirty Secret

Sam loves when he comes down your throat as you give him a blow job.

E= Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they are doing?)

He may not be as experienced as Dean but he is experienced nonetheless. You will know everything about his past before you have had sex for the first time, but let me tell you he definitely leaves you wanting more after every time.

F= Favorite position (Goes without saying)

Missionary- him between your legs, your legs around his waist locked together. Up close and personal. He loves seeing your face full of pleasure.

Doggystyle- Remember when I said he loves holding your hips? He loves this position.

G= Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? or are they humorous)

He is mostly serious. It's a very serious moment of passion and intimacy for both of you.

I= Intimacy (How are things during the moment, romantic aspect.)

His hands never leave your body, he is very handsy and grabby but he always never leaves his lips off your body.

J= Jack off (Masturbation head canon)

It's not often that he does, in the line of work he does. But, when you are separated he may get one or two out of thinking of you. Or even calling you for help ;)

K=Kinks

Sam loves being dominate towards you. Choking you and edging you.

He also has a bit of a breeding kink. Just the thought of you being pregnant with his child makes him more turned on.

L= Location (where you guys would do the deed)

Sam is a very private guy, so any place that is private like his room is ideal.

But, he has taken the impala for a spin...if you know what I mean.

M= Motivation (What turns them on, or gets them going)

When you wear nothing but his shirt and he sees you with a book, immediately turned on.

N= No (Something they wouldn't do, or turns them off)

Anything that would bring you any pain. You are his love and seeing you in pain is his worse nightmare.

O= Oral (Do they like giving, receiving, both?)

Sam is an Oral god...he loves giving it and watching your face come from pleasure and knowing he is the one doing it.

He loves when you give him a blowjob, it gives him another time to relax.

P= Pace (Are they slow? Fast and rough?)

It really depends on the mood. He can certainly go rough and fast but if you requested gentle and slow. You got it.

Q=Quickie (Their opinion on it, how often would they have one)

Sam is a quickies fan even though he doesn't do them often. But, if you and him have time for a quick fix he is all for it.

R-Risk (Are they risky?)

In Sam's line of work, the risk is dangerous. He don't need it in the bedroom.

S=Stamina (How long can you last? How many rounds?)

Sessions with Sam are so hot and heavy, yall be lucky to have three rounds.

T=Toys (Do you guys own toys? Do they use them?)

You guys own a vibrator which is rarely used, You guys both can satisfy with what you get from each other.

U=Unfair (How likely would they tease)

Let's be honest, You would be the one that would that would tease. But, when Sam had enough of the teasing he would definitely let you know.

V= Volume (How loud are they)

Sam doesn't make much noise but expects a lot of heavy breathing. Low growls and grunts.

X=XRay (What's going on down there)

Sam is a big boy, and I don't just mean his height. You can expect that he is bigger than average.

Y=Yearning (How high is their sex drive)

Despite him big majorly quiet and hiding behind a book, Sam's Drive is higher than you would think.

Z=ZZZ. (How fast he would fall asleep)

He would fall asleep a bit after you did.

#supernatural #spn #spn fandom #sam winchester #jensen ackles #deanwinchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x female reader #sam winchester smut #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester drabble #sam winchester icons #sam winchester x plus size reader #sam winchester fic #supernatural headcanon #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural smut #jaredpadalecki #dean winchester x reader #jared padalecki #follow

[unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men]

Castiel taking to Y/N: "Did you get your baking done last night?"

Y/N looking confused: "I didn't bake anything last night Cas, why would you say that"

Castiel: "I heard you and Dean talking about cream pies and how Dean said he wanted to give you one"

Dean choking on his coffee, Y/N staring open mouthed

Sam laughing: "So Y/N did you give him what he wanted?"

Dean smirking: "Oh she did many times"

Castiel: "I believe we are not talking about baking"

Y/N: "I hate you all"

#incorrect supernatural quotes #incorrect spn quotes #supernatural incorrect quotes #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x plus size reader #castiel #castiel novak #sam winchester

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

DAY FIFTEEN: Make-Up Sex w/ Dean Winchester

a/n: Now that I feel better, though still albeit exhausted, I'm now literally running, jumping, fucking skipping to get caught up because somehow October decided to actually speed run it's own month like the hell???

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

TAGLIST: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

Being with Dean Winchester was challenging at times, because no matter how much he trusts you or how good things really are, he's always expecting the rug to be pulled out from under him. Even if sometimes he is the metaphorical rug.

You've had many arguments before, but none of them have hurt like this. You often found yourself in bed alone, usually because the boys were out hunting or catching up on lore, and you were honestly okay with that because duh— they were saving the world! But, sometimes you missed having some cuddle time with your boyfriend, but apparently he did not feel the same.

When you came to peel him away from whatever article he was reading on the computer, he snapped at you, saying some things that were very unnecessary. It had sent you back to bed angrier and more hurt than you had ever been before.

It only took a few minutes of harsh silence before he came stomping down the hallway and into your shared room. You didn't dare move a muscle, remaining on your side with your arms crossed and glare settled on the wall in front of you.

He took a moment to kick off his shoes and shuck off his flannel before shuffling into bed behind you, a heavy hand resting on your plush hip that was covered by the duvet.

"Sweetheart…" He began. "Go away, Dean." You said coldly, unravelling your arms to shove his hand off of you. 

"Look— I'm sorry." He rasped quietly. "Could've fooled me." He sighed. "I— didn't mean what I said, I'm just… tired. This case has been whoppin' me and Sammy's ass." He explained. "I just wanna catch this thing before it kills anyone else, and I ended up taking my anger out on you and you didn't deserve it," Dean took your body relaxing as a sign to be able to spoon you. "Fuck, honey. I'm sorry."

You chewed on your bottom lip thoughtfully. A part of you didn't want to give in, but the other part acknowledges that Dean never apologises unless he really means it.

"You really hurt my feelings, you know?" You whispered meekly. "I know baby, I know." He murmured into your neck.

You basked in his closeness, in the strength of his arm wrapped around your softened midsection. You shivered when you felt him place gentle kisses onto the exposed skin of your neck, the arm holding you pressed your back harder onto his chest.

"Let me take care'a you." He said seductively, his palm slipping up to cup your braless breast. You whimpered at the feeling, but nonetheless grinded back on his growing bulge as he stimulated your nipples.

"Please." You breathlessly begged. 

He was quick to turn you on your back, lips slamming down on yours. He devoured your mouth, his tongue demanding entrance as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your pajama shorts. He groaned lowly at the fact that you had no panties on.

"Was this what you were gonna give me to make me feel better?" He asked with an amused smirk painted on his lips. Your skin flushed but you nodded shyly. "If it would have helped you, yeah." You confessed sheepishly. "Can't believe I was such an asshole to my sweet girl." 

His fingers teased your damp folds, sliding a finger between them to collect your slick before prodding at your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat, a small whine leaving you as he joined your lips together once more.

It was as though he was trying to destroy you from the inside-out. His strong fingers worked your entrance open, the man slipping in a second finger. Your legs twitched around his arm, loud mewls passing between the both of you whenever he'd hit your g-spot. 

You pulled away from your spit soaked kiss to cry out. "Dean, baby, 'm gonna cum!" 

He slipped in a third and final finger. He twisted his wrist torturously, his thumb reaching up to rub furiously at your clit. Your hand gripped desperately at his wrist, holding it to your body as you desperately rode his hand. 

"There you go, sweetheart. There ya go." He talked you through your orgasm. "Dean… Dean…" All you could whimper was his name.

"Fuck." You heaved after taking a few moments to catch your breath. "You okay?" He asked gruffly. You nodded your head, your own fingers tangling themselves up in his spiky hair. 

"I need you in me." You said as you cradled the back of his head. "Don't know if I deserve it." It sounded as if the big bad Dean Winchester was actually pouting! 

"Ugh, just c'mere." You said with a grin, tugging your boyfriend over your body. "If you don't fuck me, then I'll be sad again. How does that sound?" You asked playfully. "Not good." He murmured with a matching grin.

He was quick to take off his jeans, practically falling over himself to get naked as you finally stripped yourself of your own as well. Both of you were as naked as the day you were born by the time he had his cock lined up to your entrance.

His tip teased your clit, which caused you to whine in displeasure. "Dean…" He chuckled lightly. "Sorry, honey." 

With his hands on either side of your head, he entered you, your head falling back in pleasure at the feeling.

"Jesus." He groaned. "Feels so good, baby." He praised. Tiny whimpers left you as he bottomed out, sheathed all the way to the hilt as your velvety walls fluttered around him selfishly.

"Shit! Please move." You begged. 

Dean would be damned if you had to beg for fucking anything tonight. Pulling out slowly, he slammed his hips into yours. A loud smack! Resounded throughout the room, a choked moan slipping out of you.

"Ah!" His tip brushed against your g-spot pleasurably. Your nails dug into his back as he pounded into you, holding onto the older man for dear life as he continually stretched you out.

Your velvety walls sucked him in greedily, like they were practically trying to keep him inside of you. You could feel that familiar coil in your stomach tighten continuously, a feeling that Dean had made sure you were familiar with for the past years that you've been with him.

Your pussy burned with overstimulation as you neared your end, and it made it harder for Dean to move in and out of you.

"You gonna cum, baby?" He asked through gritted teeth. "Y— yes!" You stuttered. "Cum for me then, sweetheart." Your hand slipped down to rub at your clit hurriedly, your back arching at the overwhelming feeling.

"Fuck!" You swore as you came, your chest pressed against Dean's. One of his arms held himself up as the other stretched over your back to keep your plush upper body anchored to him as you rode out your high.

"Holy shit." You gasped, your chest heaved with each quick breath you attempted to take. 

"Best apology ever." You said with a hazy laugh.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day fifteen #plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size!reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester kinktober #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester smut #smut #angst #fanfiction #nsfmeau

[youwerenevermeanttofeelalone]

Productive Ways to Make Up | Dean Winchester

✦ pairing — Dean Winchester x afab!female!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.1k

✦ request — Maybe taking charge of the plus size reader. Like hot angry rough sex. Spanking maybe? Idk that just seems like it would be a good one. Maybe just they get in a fight during the holidays. Like at the readers family’s Christmas party. Then dean takes charge of her and they have angry rough sex

✦ warnings — nsfw, teasing, hints of a fight, smut, spanking (reader receiving), angry sex, rough sex, fellatio, face fucking (reader receiving), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (please don’t do this), creampie, aftercare.

✦ author's note — changed this to a New Year’s party just to fit the date better.

════════════════════════

The fight got out of hand easily, as things often did with Dean. It was one of those fights that you didn’t know how escalated to this, on this day specifically when you needed him on his best behavior.

Your parents had been excited to finally see you for more than a couple of hours, happy that your hectic schedule had given you a break for New Year’s. You had to skip Thanksgiving and Christmas because you were out of town, your mom didn’t take it well. This party was supposed to be perfect for everybody.

Dean rarely made things hard for you, but he had to do it today, apparently.

You left early, making up an emergency with Dean’s brother. Poor Sam, you had to drag him into this just so your dad wouldn’t start hating your partner out of nowhere.

For the first time in a very long time, getting home was worse for your mood. Dean didn’t help, glaring at you as you peeled off your jacket as if you had done anything wrong, as if you started the stupid fight.

He grabbed you by the hips before you could leave the living room, grip tight and strong. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the bedroom. Or am I not allowed?”

“Watch it,” he warned.

“I need to call my mom and assure her Sam isn’t dying.”

Dean pushed you against the wall to stop you, trapping you with his warm body to the cold wallpaper.

“Dean…” You struggled against his hold.

“Oh, honey, you know what you’re doing, don’t you?”

In most circumstances, you would wiggle against his hands just to egg him on. But this time, you honestly simply wanted to annoy him into letting you cross the living room and hopefully find the warmth of your cozy bed where you could call your mom and take a nap.

Dean had other plans. You hated that you weren’t as against them as you wanted to be. After all, it was a more productive way to take out your anger than yelling at each other in the middle of the half-empty living room on New Year’s Eve.

Your breaths mingled as both of you opened your mouths to say something. Dean took charge, as he often did with these things, and leaned in to kiss you.

A hand of his came up to grip your chin, forcing your mouth open to slip his tongue past your red lips. You squirmed, feeling your skirt ride up at the movement between the wall and Dean’s bulk.

“Don’t be a brat,” he gritted out. Yet he traced the outside of your thighs with both hands, forcing your skirt to bunch up at your hips. Humming against your skin, he manhandled you toward the couch.

His hands fell on your ass. He made it jiggle with a light spank, laughing when you gasped in surprise. “That okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you consented.

He immediately spanked you again. “Count for me.”

“One,” you mumbled as the first slap landed. Dean hummed, you could picture the smile on his face, and did it again. “Two.”

“See how easy everything is when you listen to me?” He sounded almost condescending. Slapping you again, harder, he waited for you to count once more before rubbing his hand over the spot he had just hit.

He made you count to ten, careful not to make you cry. No matter how pretty you looked with tears streaming down your face, this was clearly about control, not a punishment.

Rubbing your ass, Dean ripped your pantyhose and spread your legs open. “Of course you’re fucking dripping already.”

He sat on the couch and brought you onto his lap. You would probably ruin his new pants, but by the way he grabbed you and pulled you into a sloppy kiss, that was his intention.

You moaned as he pushed his tongue against yours. Before you could start enjoying yourself with the kiss, Dean pulled away. He even laughed when you whined.

“Be patient,” he told you. “You aren’t supposed to enjoy this too much.”

You pouted, naively thinking it would convince him. Dean wasn’t in a playful mood, he just wanted to remind you who was in charge and why. His grip on you tightened, bringing you flush against him.

The tent in his pants brushed against your sensitive skin. He purposefully drove you to move your hips backward, then forward. You rested your hands on his chest, grinding against him of your own volition.

"You're enjoying this, huh."

Dumbly, you hummed. His laugh almost snapped you out of it, but it was too late. You cried out as he stopped you from keeping grinding. It bordered on torture, feeling the texture of his pants on your bare skin, rough and so readily available for you to get off.

Dean pushed you to your knees and undid his pants in haste, pulling his cock out of his underwear swiftly. He petted your head for a moment, then tapped his cock against your cheek. “Open up.”

You did so, resting your hands on your thighs in expectancy.

He caressed your cheek before shoving his cock into your mouth, only careful not to get to your throat for a moment. As he hit your throat, you gagged from the force, then relaxed as your brain registered what was happening.

He groaned as you began to hollow your cheeks, thrusting his hips up and choking you with his cock. You gagged once again, balling up your fists. Not touching him was worse than the sensation in your throat, that one you weirdly enjoyed, something about him causing you to gag and slobber all over his cock simply did something to you.

He knew.

“Should have known this would shut you up.” He rutted his hips, groaning deeply as his cock slipped down your throat.

He grunted as your tongue slid along his cock, gripping your face tightly so he could fuck your mouth at a quicker pace. The only indication you got that he wanted to come was him pressing your face to his pelvis.

Before you could taste the familiar salty cum, he pushed you off his cock and caressed your neck with his thumbs as he regained his breath.

"On your back."

You understood he meant on the couch simply because you were sure he would never fuck you into the floor when your backs were so ruined from all the hunting. So you laid on the couch you had fucked on more times than you could count and waited for him to get inside you.

Dean showed you two fingers. "Keep these warm for me, yeah?"

You nodded and opened your mouth, eager to suck on his fingers. Dean cackled, shaking his head.

"Can't leave this pussy unattended, honey." He teased at your entrance, gathering the slick dripping down your labia. "So good for me," he mumbled to himself.

Sliding his middle and ring finger inside you, Dean hummed to himself. "Knew you'd be warm and ready for me."

Teasingly, he curled his fingers. You whimpered.

"More." You couldn't help yourself.

He started shoving his fingers in and out, thrusting like he had done this a million times before. He almost had. The lewd sounds bouncing against the walls made your skin grow hot, feeling yourself getting more aroused at the wet echoes.

You squeezed around his fingers and rolled into his hand. Dean tsked, shaking his head. He tried to hide his proud smile from you as best as he could, but the cockiness always won over. His thumb grazed your clit as he wiggled his digits inside you, crisscrossing them.

"You know what? Go ahead, fuck yourself on my fingers. Can't do all the work for you."

Rutting against Dean's hand, you allowed yourself to enjoy the tendrils of pleasure every time his thumb made contact with your clit and his digits became buried inside you. He would stroke against your movements when you would get too complacent, reminding you he was still in charge. As if you would have it any other way.

You gasped out his name, hands floundering in search of something to hold onto. Dean removed his fingers before you could even grasp your orgasm.

Taunting you, he licked his fingers clean. "You would have made your mess already if you hadn't been so difficult earlier. You know that, right?"

You mumbled a reminder, "You were difficult too."

"Take that back," he demanded, wrapping a hand around his hard cock.

You shook your head, frustrated to no end as Dean started to pump the cock you should have been riding already.

As if reading your mind, and somehow agreeing, he roughly grabbed your thighs and forced your legs open enough to slot himself between them. He slapped his cock against your clit, smirking when you jolted. He did it a couple more times, only stopping when he dragged his tip along your slit to wet it.

Dean coated his cock all over with your wetness, using his fingers to gather some more for good measure. The emptiness inside you grew. All of this was not only unnecessary but only dragged your so much-needed pleasure.

"Gonna fuck some manners into you, honey," he announced in glee as he pushed inside you.

"Uh-huh."

He hovered over you to kiss you, sticking his tongue into your mouth while holding your legs open. You panted as he thrust into you with little care of pace or rhythm, only worried about fucking you stupid.

"I can feel how badly you want to come already," he boasted, relentlessly pumping his cock into you like he would die if he didn't reach as deep as humanly possible. "Hold on," he insisted, almost desperate. "You gotta wait until I tell you to."

Just as you were going to hum in acknowledgment, he pulled out and forced a desperate cry out of you. Dean grabbed your hips, guiding you onto your knees and hands.

Pressing his chest to your back, he pushed back in. His hands moved to your belly, searching for the hem of your top; as he found it, he rode it upward. Some of his fingers were ice cold, leaving goosebumps all over your skin as his hands reached your breasts.

He pulled on your breasts as he pistoned into you, quickly and harshly, pushing your face into the couch. You gasped for air, whining as you ground back against him, chasing permission to come.

Dean wouldn't relent that easily. He dropped your breasts, wrapping an arm tightly around you whilst resting his other hand on your thigh. Slapping your clit, he started to pant in your ear. "You're so fucking close," he told you, as if you didn't feel like you were on fire.

His fingers drew circles on your clit, applying as much pressure as your desperate humps and his hurried thrusts allowed him to. "Come on," he encouraged you, "let go. Make a mess all over my cock."

His thrusts only slowed down long enough for you to ride your high, coming so close to using him to get off that you hoped you would remember to plant the idea of trying that out into his head. He picked up the pace again, taking advantage of your pulsing walls and your half-relaxed state.

"Inside?" he asked breathlessly.

"Yeah." You moaned at the overstimulation, hoping he would just come already so you wouldn't have to go through more of it right now. Maybe later.

Not only did he fill you with cum but he pushed it deeper with a couple of pumps, moaning through a string of curses. His embrace loosened around you, but Dean didn't let go.

With his chest against your back and ragged breath in your ear, Dean coaxed you into laying flat on your stomach. "You okay, baby?"

You hummed. "Yeah, all good."

He kissed your shoulder and slowly withdrew from you, slipping out. "Gonna clean you up," he told you before you could ask if something was wrong.

Cleaning you up with a damp rag, Dean caressed your skin soothingly. "Can you sit up and drink some water?"

You gave it a try, groaning as you turned around on the couch. Sitting up was especially daunting as your sore ass made contact with the cushioned seat.

"I..."

You looked up at him, glass in both hands.

"I'll run you a bath, then we'll call your parents and invite them over for dinner this weekend."

"Really?"

"Really."

By the end of the night, you called your mom from your warm bed, head on Dean’s chest while his fingers traced your back.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester smut

[sittingbesideyoulikeasilhouette]

Make Things Even

Pairings: Dean x plus size reader

Synopsis: you and Dean had a love hate relationship but what happens when you sneak lust into the equation? What happens when Dean accidentally walks in on you playing with yourself?

Author’s note: I wrote this in 3 hours on my phone instead of going to bed. This is my first SPN fic, please tell me what you think!!! P.S Sammy is the sweetest lil wingman in this lol

You slowly blinked your eyes open and turned to see 10:04 staring back at you on your alarm clock. You stretched out your limbs and your muscles ached in protest - clearing out that vamp nest with the boys a couple of days ago really pushed you to your limits so you all christened today “rest day.” The boys could tell how worn out you were and Sam had been talking non-stop about going to the movies so today you were all officially unplugged and forbidden from going on or looking for cases.

You got up, put on your slippers, and followed the smell of bacon to the kitchen.

“Morning princess,” Dean called out from his place at the table, setting his cup of coffee down and peering up at you. You rolled your eyes and scoffed.

“If anything, I’m a goddess.” You made your way to Sam who was offering you a plate of bacon, eggs, and pancakes.

“Here you go, Goddess,” Sam jokingly said putting the plate in your hands. You smiled and Dean rolled his eyes before going back to eating his breakfast.

As you went to sit at the table, the spot opposite to Dean, you saw him sneak a peak at you. You were sporting some tight, short, velvety black shorts and a tank top and Dean made sure to stare a bit too long at both your ass and your tits before pretending he didn’t spare you a second glance. You knew Dean loved sex but you also knew he sought out sex with thin women and you.. well, you were not. You’d grown somewhat comfortable with your body over the years and you weren’t scared of wearing tight clothing anymore but you’d heard Dean say a few offhanded fat jokes so you knew the chance of you two ever having anything was null. And, you were okay with that, really, because even though Dean was the most attractive man you’d ever laid your eyes on you also realized you’d never be fully comfortable with him to have sex. So, you decided that not giving a shit about what you wore around the bunker was the way to go and even though sometimes he’d look at you like he wanted nothing more than to have his way with you, he’d always grab his keys, say goodbye with a “don’t wait up,” and come back with one or two small hickeys on his neck that no doubt a petit brunette gave him.

“Something caught your eye?” You asked Dean with a cheeky smile and he spared a second glance at your tits before looking back up at your face.

“Nope.”

“You sure?” You asked again, looking up at him from under your lashes and making sure your tits bounced a bit as you reached for the syrup. Again, he looked down at your tits but this time you swore there was a slight sparkle in his eye. You knew you’d never have sex with the man but that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy torturing him a bit. When he looked back up at you he knew you’d caught him staring so he awkwardly coughed and grabbed his fork.

“Uh yeah, yes. Yes, I’m sure,” he put a piece of bacon into his mouth and you decided to give the guy a break.

“Thank you for breakfast Sam,” You called out to him as he made his way to sit next to Dean.

“No problem, I figured I’d be up before either of you anyway. You two are so similar honestly - you both love sleeping in and are cranky without breakfast. I can expect little scowls every morning before either of you are fed.”

“I don’t scowl,” You and Dean said in unison while scowling at Sam.

“Uh huh, like I said,” Sam laughed and started eating his breakfast. You looked at the boys eating and suddenly got a bit self conscious; they were both well over 6 feet tall and muscular meanwhile you were a chubby and soft 5’7 eating the same breakfast they both were. You knew Sam meant nothing by serving you all the same portions, in fact you loved that he never called any attention or made any distinctions based on your weight, but it didn’t stop your brain from overthinking.

“Everything okay? Are you not hungry?” Sam asked you with a concerned tone. You were about to answer when Dean responded instead.

“Of course she’s hungry.” He said it offhandedly while reading the paper, he probably didn’t even realize what he said or how it sounded but it sent your brain into overdrive and you wanted more than to not be there at all. Sam quickly looked over at Dean, knowing exactly what it sounded like, and you could tell he was about to tell him off but you cut in instead.

“I’m just tired, I think I’ll head back to my room to rest.” You pushed your plate forward. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Dean put the paper down and look up at you.

“But you just woke up?” Dean called out to your retreating form as you made your way across the kitchen. His voice sounded confused and also.. sad?

“I’m going to rest just after waking up kind of like how you keep drinking after downing 7 beers. Not everything makes sense, Dean, it just is,” you called back and you didn’t realize quite how harsh you sounded until you’d already made your way out of the kitchen. Whatever, Dean had thick skin and he’d get over it; you’d get over it too.

* * *

A couple hours later a small knock startled you out of the book you were reading.

“Come in,” You called from your comfortable spot in bed and you looked up to see light, sandy brown hair and a pair of beautiful green eyes peering at you from behind the door. Dean hesitated there before finally taking a couple steps inside your room.

“How’s your book?” Dean making small talk? Sam must have put the fear of God in him.

“You came in here to talk about my book?”

“No, I came here to apologize,” he said, looking at the floor with his hands in his pocket. He looked nervous and a little helpless.

“It’s fine Dean.”

“No it’s not,” he scratched the back of his neck and looked everywhere except at you, “I was a complete ass back there and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out I swear, it’s just Sam and I are always starving after a hard case and I know the vamps were rough so I just meant you were hungry because duh you took down like 6 vamps but then I realized that it sounded like I was talking about you and your body and I would never talk about you like that. Your body is fucking perfect and I opened my mouth and just made a fucking mess. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.” Dean finished his apologetic rant but one thing kept ringing in your ears. Your body is fucking perfect.

“You can apologize but you don’t have to lie Dean.”

“I didn’t lie,” he said defensively and finally looked at you. You don’t know why but that just pissed you off even more.

“My body is fucking perfect? C’mon, seriously? it’s probably only just tolerable by your standards,” you shot back and saw his face etched into perfect confusion.

“What? What the fuck are you talking about? Tolerable? I know you caught me staring at you earlier, so you know that’s not true”

“Yes fine I have big tits and some ass but I’m still fat”

“Who gives a fuck?” He nearly shouted at you. This conversation was equally confusing and infuriating you. When the hell did Dean Winchester decide he was attracted to bigger women?

“I don’t but you do.” You held your ground.

“What are you talking about?” You could tell he was aggravated too.

“Dean, when is the last time you fucked someone who wasn’t a size zero?”

“I haven’t yet but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to” he responded without skipping a beat. You both stared at each other and you refused to be the first one to break eye contact. Dean gave you an easy out and dropped his gaze down to your body. God, you swear the room went up 20 degrees. Dean Winchester was lusting after you, a size 16? Absolutely not, it couldn’t be. Just as Dean made eye contact with you again Sam came excitedly barging in.

“Okay the movie starts at 4 and it’s 1:12 right now. The movie theater is like 30 minutes away but we should account for traffic and snack time so we should leave at 3, sounds good, right?” Sam looked at you and Dean with a smile on his face, completely oblivious to the situation he’d just diffused.

“Yes Sam, sounds good,” Dean answered in a clipped tone and pat his brother on the shoulder before turning around and walking out of your room. You saw Sam mutter a small ow and clutch his shoulder before he looked over at you.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to come with us?”

“A French film? No thanks Sammy, I’d rather stay here and read a book or watch trashy American TV,” you giggled holding up your book.

“Okay okay, we’ll bring you back some popcorn, promise” he said turning around to leave.

“Hey, does Dean know it’s a French film?” You’re surprised Dean would ever agree to that.

“He better, I talked to him about it for like an hour,” Sam said as he shut your door. Now that you were alone you actually had time to think about everything that happened in the last 10 minutes. Dean was attracted to bigger women? Dean was attracted to you? You felt like your entire world had shifted and you had no idea which way was up. You didn’t know if this meant that you and Dean would ever become anything but now that you knew your feelings could be requited, there was at least a possibility and that intrigued you and terrified you all at once.

* * *

The beginning of the end came at 2:50.

“Hey I looked it up on the theater’s website and for sure there will be subtitles” Sam confirmed as he made sure he had his phone and wallet in his front right jacket pocket. Dean, who had been previously looking for his keys, immediately stopped and looked at his brother.

“Subtitles, Sam?”

“Yes Dean subtitles. I told you this was a French movie.”

“French? Like a French movie?” Dean asked with a hopeful smile.

“No Dean not a French movie, it’s just a French movie. C’mon dude I talked to you about it for like an hour.”

“Sammy I don’t feel good,” Dean said grabbing his stomach.

“No, you’re not flaking out on me right now. We’re leaving Dean.” Sam said sternly pointing to the door.

“C’mon man, I’m not sitting through a 2 hour French movie that doesn’t even have any porn.”

“You suck man, the worst,” Sam called out to his brother as he grabbed the keys and made his way to the garage.

“Leaving now, bye!” Sam called out after he’d made his way to the top of the stairs and heard your faint little bye in response. He couldn’t see Dean anymore and figured he’d gone to his room to listen to some music. He smiled knowing full well he’d actually told Dean they were going to watch an action movie and telling you they were watching a French film but deciding that what you two need was some quality time to resolve all the tension that had been building over the past few months.

Your little argument with Dean had put you in a mood but you were also .. turned on? You were, decidedly, very confused and your best option was going to take a cold shower. Yes, that’ll help you told yourself as you grabbed your towel and made your way to the bathroom.

While you were in the shower you couldn’t stop thinking about all the new possibilities. Was Dean going to openly check you out now or was he actually going to act on it? Did you even want him to? Oh, who were you kidding, you’d been fantasizing over that man’s fingers and cock being inside of you for months and now that there was a small chance, you felt your body come alive. This shower was supposed to help take your mind off Dean but you hadn’t had sex or touched yourself in months so you decided the best thing to actually clear your mind was making yourself cum. You had the bunker to yourself, right? You could make an hour of it and play with your candles and your vibrating dildo. You were always pretty loud but now there was no reason to be quiet so you made up your mind, shaved everything, and quickly finished showering.

Unbeknownst to you, Dean was 3 doors down to the left, in his room with his head phones on full blast, trying to take a nap. He thought about going back in your room to talk but decided against it. It seemed like you really thought he was turned off by your body and that rubbed him the wrong way. He was pissed off at himself for every making you feel that way and he knows he’s probably made some stupid offhanded comments about weight or size but he’d never ever talked about you. He realizes now the impact of his words on you would be the same regardless of who he was talking about and he truly wishes he could take it all back and start again but he couldn’t and now you were probably still in your room reading your little book and hating his guts.

You skipped over to your room, which was only one door and across the hall on the right, and were about to close the door decided against it. No one is here, why should I close the door?

You decided to let that play into your little voyeurism kink, even though there was no one here to see you, and walked over to your nightstand from which you pulled out a lighter, your dark purple candle, and your 5 inch flesh colored vibrating dildo. You turned it on briefly to make sure it was charged then you set everything on your nightstand and dropped your towel.

You considered turning on some porn on your laptop but decided against it. You were already turned on and fantasizing about Dean would be more than enough.

You laid on your back and the chill of the air came in contact with your warm skin causing you to shiver. You closed your eyes and put your right index and middle fingers in your mouth, you started slow but then you imagined it was Dean’s fingers instead and he wanted to see how well you’d be able to take him so you put your fingers deeper into your mouth and made sure to coat them in spit. You slowly made your way down your chest and then you took your right nipple between your slick fingers and began twisting it. You couldn’t help but moan out loud, imagining it was Dean’s fingers instead of yours. You had only just started playing with yourself but you were already so fucking wet, maybe a minute more and you’ll start dripping on your covers. Knowing how wet you were just imagining Dean made you let go of your right nipple to start playing with your left.

“Oh fuck yes” you moaned out loud and felt yourself dripping down your thighs. God you weren’t a fucking teenager anymore, you were 27 years old, but you knew you weren’t going to last very long. You let go of your nipple and turned over to grab your candle. It was dark purple with sparkles and you knew when the wax hardened, it would look like little galaxies were all over your body. You lit the candle and closed your eyes. You partially liked wax play because of the surprise of the hot wax splattering on your body so you imagined Dean was holding the candle over you saying if you wanted him to make you cum then you’d be a good girl for him while he painted your body. The first blob of wax hit your right upper rib age near your tit and it felt exhilarating. You let out a loud and languid moan as you felt the wax hit your skin then quickly harden you slowly moved the candle a bit more up and center until you felt the next bit of wax fall onto your sternum. “Fuck, yes. Oh fuck, thank you,” you moaned with your eyes closed and the Dean in your mind smirked and called you a good girl for thanking him. You kept moving the candle around your torso and your thighs with your eyes closed and moaning at all the utter ecstasy. You were soaked and teasing yourself, working yourself up until you couldn’t take it anymore; you weren’t going to stop until you felt like you had to stuff yourself with your dildo.

Meanwhile, Dean was still in his bedroom with no idea of what you were imagining him doing to you just a few doors down. He couldn’t fall asleep so just as he decided to change the CDs in his Walkman, he took his earphones off and faintly heard your voice. He looked at his closed door waiting to hear you again. Did you call out to him? Probably not, you were pissed and the undefeated champ of holding a grudge so he knew you wouldn’t be talking to him for a few days at lea—

“Oh fuck, oh fuck”

Okay that was definitely your voice, loud and clear. And it kind of sounded like you were in pain? He wasn’t sure but he wasn’t taking any chances. He jumped up from his bed, grabbed his handgun, and slowly and quietly opened his door. He started making his way down the hallway to your room. Your door was open so all he had to do was aim and then he’d be able to kill whatever was harming you. Dean briefly leaned by your door frame, gun raised and ready, then he turned to look in your room and —

“Oh yes, right there oh fuck” You moaned loudly. Your right index and middle fingers were fingering your pussy and your hand and covers looked soaked. The way you had both of your feet for purchase on the bed and your knees open and bent perfectly framed the scene as you quickly fucked yourself with your fingers. Dean dropped his arm, gun in hand, but he couldn’t look away. He knows he should leave and pretend he never saw this, but he was mesmerized. Your skin was painted purple and in that moment he swore that became his new favorite color. He could hear the wetness of your pussy clenching around your fingers and very quickly felt his jeans were too tight.

You blindly started searching for something on the bed and when Dean saw you grab a dildo that looked very similar to himself, albeit a couple of inches shorter, he couldn’t help but imagine he was about to fuck you and he nearly moaned.

“Oh fuck, I’m not going to last long” you moaned and the Dean in your mind only looked at you and smirked, telling you you’d take whatever he gave you while the actual Dean looked down and saw himself tenting in his jeans. He should leave, he thought, but when you lined up the dildo with your hole and practically shouted out how fucking good it felt to finally be filled as you stretched yourself out, he knew there was no earthly or godly force that could take him out of that room. The slick sounds of you fucking yourself hard and fast coupled with the loud and dirty moans falling from your lips were making Dean dizzy. He lightly palmed himself over his jeans for slight relief but then you turned on the vibration and the way your moans got higher and airier, he knew you’d be cumming soon and his cock only stiffened in his pants.

“I’m gonna cum, oh fuck I’m gonna cum,” you called out and Dean swears his brain stopped functioning for a second. All he could see, hear, or think about was you. Your face slightly scrunched as you came and your moans were nothing short of pornographic. Porn was now ruined, Dean knew that you were the only thing that could ever satisfy his desires now. You slowly stopped fucking yourself with the dildo, turned off the vibrator, and threw it on your bed. You looked completely and utterly relaxed. Your breathing was quick, there was a slight sheen of sweat mingled with purple all over your body, and your chest was falling up and down up and down but you looked pretty? No that didn’t do the scene before him justice, you were “beautiful”

Your eyes sprung open the second you heard the word. You saw Dean standing there and you screamed while grabbing at anything and everything to cover yourself.

“No, no I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Dean yelled as he ran out of your room and into his. He quickly locked the door and ran to his bed while you ran up from your bed to lock your door. Your reprieve from all the madness was very short lived when you discovered you weren’t alone. You wanted to be mad that Dean was there and you almost allowed yourself to be self conscious about your body but you recall seeing the large tent in Dean’s pants and decided against it. Who knows how long he’d been watching you for, it doesn’t matter, because he was massively turned on regardless. You were filled with a confidence you’d never known before so you grabbed your black robe, tied it around your body, fully covering yourself and made your way to Dean’s room.

Your loud knock made Dean jump in his bed, he was trying to think how he was going to apologize himself out of this one but now you were at his door and you were probably going to kick his ass all while he still had a boner. Fuck.

“I’m sorry, I’m really really sorry” he yelled hoping that was enough to deter you for now but you kept incessantly knocking.

“Open the door Dean.”

“Can we please please talk later. Later, I promise” no woman had ever terrified or turned him on like you did. Here he was suffering the consequences of his actions while he was the most turned on he’s ever been in his life.

“Open the door, right now Dean Winchester.”

Dean was getting up to obey your order before he even realized what he was doing. He unlocked his door, ran back to his bed, and grabbed a pillow to cover his cock. You heard the click of the door unlocking and then a small shuffle. You opened the door and saw Dean sitting on his bed with a pillow covering his massive erection. When Dean saw you in that robe, imagining you were still naked underneath, he felt his cock throb and had to look away. You walked into the room like you owned it and closed the door. You walked over to Dean’s desk and sat at the comfy chair he had there.

“I’m so sorr—”

“Stop apologizing Dean. Get up,” You ordered and you saw Dean struggle with staying seated or obeying you.

“Why?” He questioned in a small voice. Here was a 6’3 hunter who was scared of nothing, looking terrified of you.

“Because we’re going to make things even”

“What do you mean? Uh I don’t think -” he began but you cut him off.

“I’m not telling you to think, I’m telling you to obey. Now get up.” You stared into his beautiful green eyes and he knew better than to test you.

“Now. As I said, we’re going to make things even. I’m going to walk you through getting undressed and then you’re going to touch yourself until you make a mess all over yourself. Got it?”

Dean immediately stood up straight and knew he would do everything and anything you asked of him.

“Yes ma’am”

“No that’s no way of addressing me. Do better.” You saw Dean’s eyes slightly glaze with what you could only describe as submission and desire.

“Yes Goddess.”

Who wants part 2?!?!?? Leave a comment if you do pleaseeeeeee <3

#dean winchester x plus size reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural fic #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fic #sam winchester

[siampie]

Chapter List for Get Off The Highway

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, 18+ contains smut (not sure about that one, never wrote it before), pining, angst, fluff, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

[Starts season 8] You have been hunting the supernatural for a few years now. You got into it by accident. A camping night gone wrong when you were in college. You had barely escaped but some of your friends had not. And since then, you had despised camping, you were terrified of Wendigos, and you jumped right into the hunting world. In need of help during a vampire case, you turned to fellow hunter; Garth Fitzgerald; and asked for help. He sent it to you in the form of the infamous Winchester brothers. And one seems to have a problem with you. You just can’t figure out why.

List of Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4 (Coming soon)

#dean winchester x plus size!reader #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut

[hotpeoplesimp1]

Dean Winchester Oneshot

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem plus!sized reader

Warnings: MDNI, not plot, pure porn. Oral (f receiving), praise kink, thigh slapping though minor, soft!dom Dean, Dean because he is a warning, boob play, dirty talk, p in v, no protection (which is stupid, wrap it before you tap it), insecurities, body image issues. I think that’s it, let me know if I missed anything.

Summary: nothing. Just smut

Feedback is always welcome as long as it’s respectful. This is my first post so be lenient please. Have a wonderful day!

——————

“Fuck, sweetheart… You’re soaked.” Dean breathed out from above me. His green eyes blown with lust and hunger.

My body laying down on the bed, my heart pounding in my chest. Feeling extremely vulnerable and open, but also needy and desperate. Biting my lip in anticipation as he looks stares at my bare, wet pussy. Trying to close my thick thighs, my insecurities creeping into my mind. But he wasn’t having that. He grabbed my thighs and spread my legs.

“No, no.” He tsks. “Don’t you dare try to take this view away from me.” He all but growls. Leaning down and kissing me roughly, his tongue swiping over my bottom lip. I can’t help but groan softly, his hand squeezing at my waist, his other one beside my head, using it to support his weight above me. Lifting my hands up and threading my fingers through his hair, kissing him back just a feverishly.

I still couldn’t believe him of all people, Dean Winchester, liked me. This Greek God of a man, who’s the most amazing person I know. It makes no sense why he would want me. Especially considering the girls he usually goes for, the skinny, model looking ones. While I’m not “fat”, mostly because of hunting, I’m not thin either. I’ve got thunder thighs, a softer, squishy stomach, bigger breasts, and stretch marks.

Before I can get too lost in my thoughts and my overthinking, he trails his lips down my jaw. Sucking and nibbling as he goes. Arching my back into him. One of my hands trailing over his broad chest, his shirt thrown somewhere in the motel room along with my clothes. His hard on pressing against my lower stomach.

“Dean…” I whimper. His lips sucking at my collarbone. Tightening my grip on his hair. His every touch makes my skin tingle, my nerves alight as if I’m on fire.

He simply hums against my skin, smirking. Gliding his lips down my skin, to my breasts.

“God, look at these beautiful tits.” He groans. My face flushing. His calloused, strong hands on my breasts now as he squeezes at my flesh. Pushing them together, as he takes one of my nipples in his mouth. Sucking harshly. My back arching more into him as I moan loudly, bucking my hips. A rush of heat going straight to my core, wrapping my legs around his waist. Tweaking my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging softly once in a while. Sending a shudder down my spine. Twirling his tongue around my areola, then my nipple before sucking at it again. Once satisfied with the amount of attention given to one tit, he moves to the other, repeating the same thing while his hand groped and squeezes my other breast.

“Please, Dean.” I whine. I’ve got no clue what I’m asking for, just that I’m desperate for it. He chuckles lowly against my skin, sending vibrations through my body. Gliding his skilled mouth down my ribs and stomach. Littering my soft skin with kisses, as if trying to show that I’ve got nothing to be insecure about. My breath hitches when he moves down to my pelvis.

“Wh-what are you doing?” I ask shakily, breathless. Leaning up on my elbows.

“What it looks like.” He answers, still smirking. His strong hands holding my legs open, giving him access to my dripping cunt. “You trust me, right?” He checks. Wanting to make sure I am in fact ok with this and comfortable.

“Yes.” I answer without hesitation. Causing his smirk to morph into a full blown grin.

“You sure? You ok with me eating this pretty little pussy?” He teases. Making me clench around nothing.

“Yes… Please, Dean.” I whimper. My hand in his hair, tugging it slightly, making him growl in response. Sending another bolt of electricity down my spine and to my core.

He lifts my legs over his shoulders, kissing along my thighs sensually. Taking his time, his eyes closed in ecstasy. Getting more impatient, I start to squirm. Before I can complain, he licks a stripe between my folds. Letting out a shuddering moan, both my hands in his hair now, tugging at it harder. I’ve never felt so good.

“Fuck… You taste as good as I thought you would. Could spend the rest of my life like this.” He murmurs against me. Looking up at me with his beautiful green eyes, watching as I react. Wrapping his lips around my clit, sucking softly. Gasping and screwing my eyes shut.

“Eyes on me, baby.” He scolds, slapping my thigh lightly to get my attention. I jolt in surprise at the action, opening my eyes and looking down at him. My lips agape in silent moans, and my brows furrowed in pleasure. He then dived back into my pussy, eating me out like a starved man. Plunging his tongue into me, making my hips buck to get more. Moving his tongue to my clit, drawing lazy patterns on it. It doesn’t take me long to realize he’s spelling his name, the notion making my heart flutter.

I gasp when I feel one of his fingers tracing my entrance. Mewling when he slides it in, rolling my hips. “Fuck, Dean!” I whimper. Feeling him curl it in just the right place.

“God, you’re so hot like this.” He praises. My pussy clenching around his finger, causing him to groan softly. “Been dreaming of this. Making you moan my name over and over ‘til you can’t take it. Of having this perfect pussy all to myself and show you just how fucking perfect you are.” He admits.

My eyes widen in shock, never having expected that. Feeling my stomach erupt in butterflies, my face flushing. I can’t believe he… God… I’m snapped out of my thoughts once again when he slides another finger in. Groaning at the mix of pain and pleasure as his thick fingers stretch me out. His tongue and lips still on my clit, doing wonders.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Wonder how you’ll take my cock.” He growls. Sending vibrations through my body, clenching around his digits. He slowly starts to pump them in and out, still lapping my clit with his tongue. Making dirty, sinful sounds that I should be embarrassed about, but can’t bring myself to care. Hearing him slurp against my cunt like it’s his favourite meal does things to me. My nerves on fire. He starts to pump them faster, harder, curling them once in a while and hitting my G-spot. That familiar heat growing in my belly.

“God- fuck, I’m gonna cum.” I warn. Arching my back more, grinding against his face and fingers. Tugging at his hair harder, gripping tighter. Throwing my head back in bliss.

“Do it. Cum on fingers like a good girl.” He encouraged. Sending me over the edge. My muscles tense, tightening my thighs around his head. Crying out his name, followed by profanities and praise. He keeps his fingers in, letting me ride out my high, still working his mouth over my sensitive clit. Slipping his fingers out and lapping up my juices, not missing a drop.

“Good girl.” He murmurs. Licking another stripe along my pussy. Then making his way back up my body, kissing me feverishly. Tasting myself on his lips but not caring.

“Dean…” I whimper pathetically. Trailing my hands down to his belt and unbuckling it.

“Someone’s impatient.” He teases, smirking. In retaliation I start to palm him through his jeans. Dean groans and grits his teeth. Dropping his forehead to my shoulder, peppering kisses over my skin. Quickly unbuttoning his pants and helping him tug them and his boxers down. Discarding the fabric with the rest of our clothes.

My eyes widening when I see how… well endowed he is. Wondering how the hell that’s gonna fit in me. Sensing my worry, he kisses me.

“I’ll go slow.” He promises. I nod, leaning up to kiss him again. Placing my hands on his broad shoulders, he lines up his cock. Looking into each other’s eyes as he slides in slowly. Gasping softly at the burn of him stretching me out. My breath getting caught in my throat. Resting my head against the pillows as I get used to his size. His hands on either side of my head, his muscles straining. Letting my eyes flutter closed.

“You can move…” I breathe out. Looking back up at him, seeing his jaw clenched, the vein in his neck bulging. Panting above me. Yet he doesn’t move just yet.

“Give me a minute, sweetheart…” He groans. “I move now, I’m gonna lose control and start pounding into you.” He huffs.

Feeling bold, I lean up again. “It’s ok. I trust you.” I whisper. Kissing his neck slowly. He moans and starts to move. Slowly at first, pulling back until only his tip his inside me. Then pushing back in. He does this only a couple times before picking up his pace. Slamming deep inside me and hitting my G-spot, making me cry out and moan. Digging my fingertips into the skin of his shoulders.

“Fuck… take my cock so well. So-… tight. Can feel you clenching around me…” he growls against my neck. Tilting his head down to watch as my tits bounce from the force of his thrusts. Moving his one hand to grab the headboard, his other grabbing my thigh and lifting to get a new angle. Making my eyes roll back in my head and practically scream his name. “Fuck, Dean!”

“That’s it, baby. Let me hear you.” Deb encourages. Sucking at my neck as he pounds into me relentlessly.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop!” I plead, feeling that coil tighten in my stomach.

“Trust me, I have no plans on stopping.” He assures. Causing me to squeeze his cock again, making him moan.

“M’ gonna-… fuck… I’m so close…” I whimper. Screwing my eyes shut.

“Good girl. Make a mess all over my dick.” He grunts into my ear. Still panting and groaning above me. His permission making my climax crash over me. Seeing stars and my eyes rolling back. My body shaking with pleasure, raking my nails down his back. His thrusts stutter as he gets closer, moaning loudly as I finish.

“I’m gonna cum…” he warns.

“Fuck. Cum, Dean. I want you to cum inside me.” I whimper shakily. My words sending him over the edge, spilling into me and covering my walls with his spend. He collapses on top of me, though supporting most of his weight on his elbows as to not crush me. Kissing my neck, jaw, and then my lips. Moaning against his. The kiss slow and lazy.

He pulls away, pulling out of me. I whine at the loss of the feeling of him, feeling empty. Though he stays hovering above me. Both of our bodies covered in sweat, my hair sticking to my neck and forehead, both of us panting, hearts pounding. Looking up at him with a dazed grin.

“You’ve got no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He breathes out. Wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him in to kiss me again.

“I really like you, Dean.” I whisper softly.

“I really like you, too.” He grins.

#dean winchester #dean girl #fanfic #one shots #spn #dean winchester x female!reader #Dean Winchester x fem plus!sized reader #Dean Winchester smut

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Before I Met Angels - Pt 1 - Then...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus!Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester arrived on your doorstep with his cheap suit and the promise of a ghost-free future. Playing pretend love interest left you both with something a little more lingering than the ghost.

Words: 2.5k

A/N: This was born of a Nonny request for some oral smut and some insecurity/comfort (which is Part 2) but I couldn't not write the back story so here it is. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Canon-typical action/adventure, talk of ghosts and dead people, canon typical violence, profanity, some sexual tension, kissing, and a bit of softness.

***MINORS DO NOT ENTER OR INTERACT***

Dean Winchester had been in your house for over two weeks now, having arrived on your doorstep with his brother Sam after a handful of men in your town had mysteriously died.  It had started a little over two years ago with your boyfriend, Danny, who had died of a heart attack moments before you were going to sleep together for the first time.  Six months ago, other men who you had started dating or who had asked you out started dying as well, their hearts exploded in their chests.

When Dean showed up, it was in a cheap suit and an FBI badge, and the promise of a future without whatever was plaguing you.  It quickly became apparent that he and Sam weren’t really FBI when they started laying lines of salt around your house and carrying your old fire poker or your cast iron skillet around with them.  With talk of ghosts and other supernatural things, you learned that the Winchester brothers were hunters of those things that went bump in the night, guardian angels, if you will, for all who were afflicted by such things.

“I’m no guardian angel, sweetheart.  I’ve met some of ‘em though.”  He replied when you said this to him.   “They’re assholes, lemme tell ya.”

You had laughed but the concept of angels existing wasn’t something you had been prepared for.  But really, how could you be prepared for any of this?

Over the course of the first few days, Dean and Sam staked out your house, taking readings with a strange whining piece of equipment that Sam explained read ghost energy.  The prognosis: your house was haunted, but the ghost remained elusive.

“Maybe it only goes after people I want to be romantic with?”  You fielded, after a discussion about the house’s history.  “You said yourselves that all of the people who died of that exploding heart thing had been people I’d been dating or about to date.”

“You could have a point,” Sam said thoughtfully.  “So we just need to replicate that scenario.”

“You saying I got to get frisky up in here?”  Dean quizzed and you blushed, feeling awkward about suggesting he do something he clearly wouldn’t enjoy.

“I mean, I could…”  Sam began to offer but Dean carried on talking.

“Alright, I got this.”  He nodded at you with a smirk that you couldn’t read at all.  “Let’s get this done.”

He decided that snuggling on the couch would be a good start and see if that prompted the ghost to appear.  The first day, nothing happened, but Dean came back every evening and tried again.  Each night he and Sam came back around sunset and you made them dinner.  Each night Dean would sit back on the sofa with his arm around you and you would snuggle into him as you watched TV; Dr Sexy was his favourite show.  Sam waited either in the car or in a room upstairs as if he was a guest.

Gradually you two settled into a routine where small gestures of affection began to creep into your behaviours:  Dean would stroke his hand down your back to settle on your hip as he passed you in the kitchen, and you would absently touch his forearm when you spoke to him.  It only took a couple of days, but you completely fell under his spell – fake though your interactions were supposed to be.

You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt for him, he was way beyond anything in your league but every time he touched you he lit a fire in you.  Every soft smile, every glance, every time he held you against him on the couch at night was fuel for that fire.  He seemed to enjoy your company but he was just doing his job, simply acting out a role to bring an end to the whole haunting thing.  The haunting thing that didn’t seem to be happening, or so you thought until last night.

Curled up on the couch with Dean for what was the twelfth night in a row, you had started to fall asleep with his arm draped around you, his fingers drawing abstract patterns on the skin of your arm.

“This doesn’t seem to be working,” he said after the re-run of Dr Sexy had finished.  “I think maybe we need to kick things up a gear.  Whadd’ya say?”

You didn’t know what he had in mind but you were a little drowsy and so far in over your head that you simply nodded, receiving a bright grin as a reply.

“You tell me to stop and I’ll stop, okay?”  He whispered into your ear, his lips brushing against you as he nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent just below your ear.  “Mmmm, you smell fantastic.”  He spoke at normal volume, clearly this was a show to get the ghost to present itself.

You sighed as he kissed your neck, and when his hand snuck under the hem of your top you stiffened, pushing a hand against his chest as if to stop him.

“Relax, sweetheart.  I’ll be good to you, I promise.”

You stroked his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath and wondered how his skin felt.  When your fingers slipped under his shirt and danced across his bare abs he inhaled sharply, pulling back from his attention on your neck to look at you.

There was a hunger there in his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss you.  You sighed as his lips met yours, so deeply absorbed in how he made you feel that you didn’t realise the temperature in the room was falling.  His tongue slipped into your mouth and he cupped your face to kiss you properly.  You moaned deeply, succumbing to the heat pooling down in your core.  It was so easy to believe this was real.

“Atta girl,” he whispered when he pulled back.  “You’re doing so well.”

“I’ve never been kissed like that before.”  You practically mewled.

“Well I’m going to do it one more time and then I’m going to ask you to follow me, okay?”

Anywhere.  You nodded as he pulled you to your feet and cradled your face in his hands.  His second kiss was consuming but still slow and measured.  He stroked his hands down your sides and up under your shirt, stroking the skin of your waist and back, and pulling you tight against him.

“I wanna have you so bad,” he said, breathless, resting his forehead on yours but very aware of the changes in the room.  “To be continued….”  He whispered, leading you up the stairs to the guest room where Sam was hiding.

“Dean!”  Sam yelled.  “Hurry it up.”

“I know, Sammy!”  He yelled back.  “We’re on our way.”

The air was charged with static.  You could feel it bristling the hairs on your skin like a bad thunder storm about to happen.  Ahead of you on the stairs, you saw Dean’s rear as he led you quickly by the hand.  Glancing behind, you saw a glitchy shape of a man which bore the face of your dead boyfriend, Danny.

“Danny?”  You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“It’s the dead boyfriend!”  Dean said to Sam as you both crossed the salted threshold of the guest bedroom.

“I thought he was killed by the ghost first.”

“So did we.”  Sam said with a frown, looking at Dean in confusion.  “And he was cremated already so what the hell are we gonna do now?”

Dean turned you to face him, tearing your eyes away from the ghost that waited on the far side of the salt boundary.

“Do you have anything of his that could be tying him to this plane?  Lock of hair?  Blood stain somewhere maybe?”

“I don’t know,  Maybe.”  You wracked your brain for anything you had kept of his.  “He gave me a locket early on in our relationship that I never really wore, but after he died I couldn’t just throw it away.  He said it was a keepsake but it’s just got a photo of us in it.”

“That’s got to be it.”  Sam said.  “Where is it?”

“In my bedroom.  Jewellery box.”

“I’ll get it,” Sam rushed to the door, “he’s after Dean, not me.”

Once Sam crossed the salt with his iron fire poker, Danny’s ghost attacked.  It knocked Sam against the wall, hard, and sent him skidding back into the room.  The line of salt was broken and Danny’s ghost came for Dean.

“Goddamnit!  You need to get outa here” Dean said, brows raised, almost begging.

“But he’s going to kill you.”

Maybe if you could reason with Danny, he would just leave.  Maybe if you asked him to move on to wherever ghosts went, that he would see you were ok without him.

“He’s gonna try.”  Dean scooped up his shotgun, pumped it and stepped up beside you.

“Danny, please listen to me.”  You tried to reason with the spirit of your dead boyfriend.  “You don’t need to do this.  Please don’t do this.”

The ghost advanced, paying little heed to anyone except Dean.  His eyes, so filled with malice and hatred, never left the hunter.  For a second, you thought maybe you could stand between them and be safe but the closer the spectre got, the more you realised that he was too far gone.  Unreachable.

“Run!”  Dean pushed you aside and lifted the shotgun, aiming it right at Danny’s chest.

You backed up against the wall and skirted along it as Danny advanced on Dean.  You had to find the locket, but what were you supposed to do with it when you had it?

In your room, you fumbled with the clasp on your jewellry box, dropping the box on the floor.  Chains and earrings spilled out, jumbling up together, snagging into a knot as you tried to pull Danny’s locket free.

The booming sound of the shotgun was deafening.  It was so loud you felt it in your chest cavity and the shock of it made you feel dizzy.  Dean could be heard goading the ghost, taunting it to come and get him before the gun went off again.

In the doorway, Sam appeared looking a little worse for wear.  You held the jumble of gold and silver up to him, panicked that you couldn’t separate them.

“What do I do?”

“We have to burn it.”

“I can’t separate them.”

“Then we burn it all.”

Sam snatched up the metal trashcan and you dumped the twisted clump on top of the paper.  A generous squirt of fuel and a book of matches later and the whole can was ablaze.

Danny’s ghost appeared, in flame, moving towards you as if to claim you but Sam pulled you out of the way as the last of the flames consumed the spirit, leaving behind whisps of smoke.

Dean was sat on the floor of the guest room, bruised and bashed but very much alive.  He gave you a grateful smile and a nod as he got his breath back.  When he stood he hugged you, rubbing both of your arms to soothe you, and kissed the top of your head.

“I think we got him,” Dean said as he stood on your porch ready to head back to the motel for the night.  “But if it’s alright with you, I wanna do one more night to make sure we haven’t missed anything.  Tomorrow?”

You had thought you would never see him again once your haunting was taken care of, but when presented with an opportunity to spend one more evening cuddling Dean Winchester, how could you refuse.  The thought of being alone that night was overwhelming but you felt pathetic asking him and Sam to stay with you.

“I think that’s a good idea,” you smiled weakly, hoping you didn’t seem too needy or too eager to have his hands on you again.  When he had kissed you, it had made you burn with desire for him, and now you couldn’t let go of that heat.  The memory of ‘to be continued’ played whirligig in your stomach.

“Alright, sweetheart.  We’ll see you again tomorrow.”

Dean stepped off the porch and down into your yard before you crumbled under the weight of your emotions.

“Wait!”

He and Sam stopped and turned, Dean looking at you with worry, Sam with sympathy.

“Would you stay with me tonight?”  You felt embarrassed to ask, but the words were out now.  “I don’t want to be alone.”

Dean shuffled his feet, looking at Sam somewhat awkwardly before returning his gaze to you.  His smile was strained, as if he didn’t know how to let you down gently.

“Tell you what,” Sam cut the silence, “I’ve got some research to do anyway, and we missed a call from Jodie, so I’ll head back to the motel and I’ll swing back around tomorrow and pick you up.”

“Sounds like a plan.”  Dean patted Sam’s shoulder and followed you back into the house where you both settled on the couch as was your routine.

The sound of the TV blended into the background, secondary to the steady but quick thu-thump of your own heartbeat and the whoosh of your pulse in your ears.  The couch was soft beneath you, perfectly contrasting the firmness of the man you were partially wrapped around.

Dean looked down at you, catching you looking up at him from under your eyelashes.

“If you keep lookin’ at me that way, that ‘to be continued’ is gonna happen a lot sooner that you think.”  He said with a cocksure smirk.

You grinned, reaching up to slide your fingers over the stubble of his cheek, guiding him so you could lay your lips on his.

Dean sighed through his nose as he delved into your kiss, his arms slipping around you to hold you tight against him.

Whatever chemistry you two had generated over the past couple of weeks was sure to fizzle out once you’d both gotten it out of your systems.  Him acting like he was interested in you, all the affectionate touches he had coached himself to give during that time, the closeness you both had engineered over that time.  It was all bound to drain away, but in the meantime you closed your eyes and succumbed to the desire burning in your chest that told you to have him while you could.

And as Dean sunk himself into you on the soft couch with the TV playing Dr Sexy in the background, you didn’t care if it was just one time, you didn’t care if he would be gone tomorrow, or the next day.  As he sighed your name and made you feel amazing, you knew you would keep this memory forever.  The night you loved your guardian angel.

Read Part Two...?

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus!reader #dean winchester x plus reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester on the hunt #cloudy's writing #dean x reader

[fatecantstopme]

Not Good Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: You overhear Dean say some hurtful things about you to Sam and decide you need to change, much to Dean's dismay.

Warnings: cursing, mutual pining, mentions of violence, body issues/esteem issues, past trauma, illusions to eating disorders and sexual assault. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dom/sub vibes, dirty talk.

You didn't like to think about your life before the Winchesters. Most of the time, it was easier to pretend you didn't have a past--no dark and morbid history to share, no pain and trauma still lingering deep within you.

Sam and Dean were the only ones you'd felt comfortable opening up to, and even that took years. Life had not been kind to you, and the scars on your body and in your mind were the proof.

Eight years ago, your hellish life took a turn for the better, but only after you almost lost it. You'd been walking home after a late night filled with bad decisions, when you were attacked. The man was fast, vicious, and cruel--taking what he wanted from you and leaving you for dead.

As fate would have it, the Winchester brothers were in town hunting a nest of vampires, and had been prowling around downtown waiting for one to make an appearance.

It was Dean who heard your screams, your cries for help, your sobs. It was Dean who came running into the dark alleyway without a thought for his own well-being. It was Dean who dropped to his knees beside your beaten and broken body...who took his jacket off and draped it over you to cover your mostly exposed form. It was Dean who gently scooped you into his arms and carried you to his car...and it was Dean that stood beside your hospital bed until you opened your eyes again.

Sam had eventually tracked down the man who had attacked you. It turned out, he had attacked several other women in the downtown area over the previous few months. Dean had been surprised to discover the man was just that--a man. Not a shapeshifter, a ghoul, a demon...not a vampire or a werewolf...just a man. His status as a human did not, however, make him any more safe from your avenging savior.

You'd never asked Dean exactly what had happened to your attacker, and he'd never talked about it. All you knew was he would never hurt anyone ever again.

It was unlike Dean to trust a stranger, and certainly out of character for him to confide in one, but there was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He felt as if he'd found a kindred spirit in you, someone who could understand him in a way even his brother couldn't.

Once you were on the mend, Dean made you an offer--one you were thankful you didn't refuse. You joined the brothers on their adventures--saving people, hunting things, the whole nine yards.

Overtime, you had become an integral part of their small family unit. Either brother would have died for you and you for them. There had been more than one close call for each of you over the past eight years, and more than one monster brutally slain to protect you.

You were closer in age to Sam, only a year younger than him, but Dean had always been the one you were closer to. Just as Dean had seen a kindred spirit in you, you had seen one in him. He understood you, he respected you, and he cared about you more deeply than anyone in your life ever had.

In the long years you'd spent in their constant company, you'd begun to change. The darkness that lived inside you seemed to fade, as if being near the Winchesters brought a light into your life you didn't know you needed. The mental scars you'd carried began to heal, even if the ones on your skin would always be visible.

There were still days where the darkness would rise within you, dark thoughts rolling through your mind, bringing you to your knees with a pain you could never describe. There were days when you would look in the mirror and hate the reflection gazing back at you--seeing the girl you had once been instead of the woman you now were.

There were moments when you'd forget all the progress you'd made, mind focusing instead on all of your flaws, all of your failures. The worst part was many of them lived only in your mind--you knew no one but you could see them, but that didn't make them any less real to you.

Lately, you had been struggling with self-esteem issues you'd long since buried. You'd thought you'd come to terms with who you were and what you looked like--accepted the body you had. Weight had been a struggle for you your entire life, and for a long time, you turned to terrible habits in order to lose weight and attempt to keep it off.

Those habits had ended eight years ago, but the issues they'd covered did not. Today was one of the bad days. One of the days you stared in the mirror and hated the image you saw--the softness, the curves, the fat. That was the word that kept repeating in your mind, fat, fat, fat.

You tried desperately to block it out, to remember why you loved your body just as it was, but those thoughts wouldn't leave you alone. The darkness inside you was too much to battle, the pain of hating yourself too much to cope with.

You'd been thankful for the bunker the day the three of you had discovered it, but you were even more grateful on days like today. Days you wanted to spend holed up in your room, refusing to face the outside world.

As much as you wanted to lay in bed for the entire day, your grumbling stomach soon became too much to ignore. You knew you needed to eat--there could be no more starving yourself, no more binging and purging--you needed to eat.

You dragged yourself out of bed and tugged on a pair of sweatpants before cautiously opening your bedroom door. You listened for the sounds of either brother moving around. Upon hearing none, you made your way slowly towards the kitchen, intent on making yourself a sandwich and retreating to the safety of your room.

Just before you rounded the corner to head into the kitchen, you heard Dean's low voice rumbling from inside. You froze in place, pressing yourself against the wall, not wanting to be seen or heard. You fully intended to creep back to your room--you really did--but the sound of your name leaving Dean's lips held you in place.

"(Y/N)'s not strong enough," Dean hissed. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was angry, very angry.

"Oh come on," Sam snapped. "She's been doing this for eight years. She's more than capable."

"Are you insane? I mean, really and truly crazy? She'll get herself killed!" Dean's voice had risen in volume and you heard Sam shush him quietly.

"Don't wake her up," Sam chided.

You heard Dean's annoyed sigh and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You knew what they were fighting about. You and Sam had a conversation a couple days ago about you hunting on your own. You'd asked for his thoughts and Sam had been honest and supportive. He said you were more than capable of hunting on your own, should he or Dean not be available to go with you. Your hunting skills were certainly not on their level, but if the case was simple enough, you would be fine.

Clearly Dean did not agree with his brother's assessment of your abilities. "She's not strong enough, or fast enough, or physically prepared to hunt on her own. She's just not, okay? She's different from us...she's not built like we are."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Sam asked incredulously.

You bit your lip to keep from whimpering aloud, Dean's words having cut straight through you like a hot knife. You blinked back your tears as you moved as quickly as possible back to your room without making noise.

Dean's words repeated on a loop inside your head, echoing your own darkest thoughts about yourself. Even Dean thought you were too fat, too weak, too useless to do anything on your own. You realized he likely only allowed you to hunt with him because he felt sorry for you--a pitying friendship you didn't ask for.

Despite the irrationality of your thoughts, you could not escape them. You couldn't fight them off, either because you didn't have the strength or because you were afraid they were right. Your mind once again played tricks on you, dragging you down into the darkness--but this time you succumbed, allowing your own tears to drag you into a nightmare fueled sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam and Dean's conversation had continued in the kitchen. Neither of them had noticed your presence, both too upset with the other to focus on anything else.

"Look, (Y/N) is my best friend. Other than you, she's my favorite person...hell, I like her more than you sometimes," Dean confessed. "I just--I don't want to lose her. If we let her go out there without backup and something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself. I'd rather her never hunt at all, but I think she'd kill me if I told her to sit out on a fight just because I'm terrified of her dying."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he regarded his brother. Dean was not known for his vulnerability, nor for sharing any of his deeper emotions, but Sam could see something simmering just beneath the surface--some emotion beyond rage and fear lurked in his brother's green eyes.

"What are you really saying, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean looked at the floor for a long moment before answering. "When we met (Y/N), I was instantly drawn to her--like a moth to flame. I don't know what it was, but I felt connected to her in a way I'd never felt before. That feeling has only grown in the past eight years and now I can't imagine living life without her. I don't want to imagine it. A world without (Y/N) in it isn't a world I want to exist in."

Sam exhaled slowly, realization crossing his features. It was rare for Dean to care for someone so deeply, but when he did, he became irrationally protective. Sam was painfully familiar with that particular side of his brother's nature. He also knew what it meant, what Dean was really saying--even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

"You should talk to (Y/N)," Sam urged. "Both about how you feel, and about why you don't want her to hunt alone."

"What do you mean, 'how I feel'?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You know exactly what I mean." He didn't give his brother a chance to respond. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked out the door, claiming a need to workout.

Dean watched Sam walk away, and a feeling of mild terror settled into his bones. He'd come very close to admitting how he really felt about you and it scared him. Hell, his feelings scared him. The fact that he was foolish enough to fall in love was bad enough, but the fact that you were the one who'd stolen his heart made it so much worse.

He'd told himself he would never fall in love, never get married, never settle down--this life wasn't conducive to any sort of domestic bliss. Part of him didn't think he deserved that kind of happiness, but the main issue was the danger of loving you so deeply. He knew the risks, knew how it would turn out--bloody, like it always did.

In his mind, the only way he could keep you safe was to pretend all he felt for you was platonic friendship. He could protect you on hunts and his guard would never be down around you, so he could protect you in every way. He'd seen how far you'd come, how strong you now were, and there was no way he would be the reason the world lost your beautiful soul.

No one could ever know the truth, not even Sam. The only way this didn't end bloody was if you never even suspected Dean loved you. No monster would be able to use his love for you against you, no monster would ever hurt you just to get to him. For you, for your safety, he was willing to break his own heart.

**********

It had been three days since you'd overheard the conversation between Sam and Dean. The first two days, you'd remained secluded in your room, claiming a migraine any time either of the boys came to check on you.

This morning, however, you'd woken up with a goal. You showered, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. As you were fixing yourself some breakfast, you heard someone enter the room.

"You're up early," Sam said warmly.

You turned to glance at him with a soft smile. "I wanted to get a head start on the day."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "You're feeling better, I take it."

You nodded. "Yeah, that headache was brutal." You felt bad for lying, but it was easier to fein a migraine than it was to admit what you'd overheard and the dark thoughts you'd been plagued with.

"Well, I'm gonna go for a run," Sam said cheerfully. "Any chance I could entice you to come with me?"

You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Not unless someone's chasing me."

He chuckled and ducked out of the kitchen, taking a bottle of water with him. Sam always asked if you wanted to join him on his morning runs, but he knew you were unlikely to ever agree. You hated running almost as much as Dean did.

You ate your breakfast quietly, contemplating your plans for the day. You had decided to start a new routine today, a routine you intended to continue until you felt better about yourself or until you could get Dean's words out of your head, whichever came first.

After breakfast, you went into the library to do some reading, intending to allow your stomach time to digest your food. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed, but Sam had returned from his run, showered, and was now eating his breakfast at the table while scrolling through the latest news stories on his computer.

Dean, unsurprisingly, was still not awake, despite the fact that it was 10am.

You closed your book and stood up. "I'll be down in the gym if you need me," you said to Sam as you crossed the room towards the door.

"You'll--what?"

You gestured towards the hall behind you. "I'll be in the gym."

He looked perplexed, but didn't comment on your sudden desire to workout. He could tell something was a little off with you, but he had the feeling you wouldn't want to talk about it, so he decided to let it go. After all, it's not like going to the gym was something he needed to worry about--it wouldn't kill you (unlike some of your previous bad choices).

When you reached the gym, you looked around and sighed. You'd always hated working out. It was a reminder how out of shape you were and how imperfect your body was. Sure, hunting kept you relatively healthy--you had surprising stamina and endurance, but the weight just never seemed to fall off. You'd begun to feel like your fat was holding some kind of grudge against you, intent on making your life miserable for some perceived slight.

You sighed again and walked over to the treadmill in the corner. You stared at it for a few minutes, deciding whether you really wanted to use it. You'd always hated the treadmill, but you needed to start somewhere, so you hopped on and started to walk at a brisk pace.

Thirty minutes later, you switched to the stationary bike, wanting a change from the monotony of walking. Twenty minutes after that, you were bored out of your mind. You decided to try something else. Maybe lifting weights would do the trick.

About two reps in, your headphones died and you groaned in annoyance. You tugged them out of your ears and tossed them to the floor, opting instead to blast your music loudly through the bluetooth speaker Sam kept down there.

Alanis Morissette's voice now carried down the hall, but you couldn't be bothered to care. She was your go-to when you were feeling angry or upset, her music always making you feel better, especially when you scream-sang along.

After a few more reps, you decided to work on your boxing skills. Sam had taught you years ago, mostly as a way to teach you some fighting skills. You wrapped your hands to protect your knuckles, settled into your stance, and began hitting the punching bag. The release of frustration you felt was almost immediate and you realized you should have just done this from the start.

Upstairs, Dean was just returning from running an errand. He'd woken up and been distressed to find they were out of bacon and beer--his two main food groups. He'd gone to the grocery store to restock and was now happily cooking an excessive amount of bacon for his breakfast.

"You know you should eat something besides bacon, right?" Sam teased him.

"Nothing is better than bacon, Sammy. Nothing." Dean scooped the rest of the bacon onto his plate with a look of glee.

"Heart attack on a plate," Sam muttered.

"Oh shut it," Dean grumbled as he bit into his first piece. He moaned obnoxiously, causing his brother to roll his eyes dramatically. "Where's (Y/N)?" He asked, words garbled by the bacon he was still chewing.

"What?"

Dean swallowed. "Where's (Y/N)? I stopped by her room before I went out and she was gone."

"She's in the gym."

"I'm sorry, she's what?"

Sam shrugged. "She's in the gym. She went down after breakfast."

"Why?"

"I assume to work out," Sam said lightly.

Dean groaned. "Obviously, smartass, but why was she gonna work out?"

"I don't know, dude. Why don't you ask her?"

Dean looked down at his plate. "I will once I finish my bacon."

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment further.

Once Dean had finished his breakfast, he made his way down to the gym, a feeling of dread settling into his stomach. He couldn't really put a finger on why, only that he didn't like the feeling.

As he neared the gym, he heard 'You Oughta Know' blasting down the hallway. He didn't hear your voice over the lyrics until he actually entered the room. He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so worried about you.

Your back was to him as you continued to pummel the absolute shit out of the punching bag. Dean had to admire both your form and the power you exuded. But as he watched you, that feeling of dread began to creep higher into his chest, wrapping itself around his heart.

He called out your name, but you couldn't hear him over the music. He spotted the speaker and walked over to turn it off, plunging the room into a shocking silence.

You spun around, surprised to see Dean standing beside the speaker. "I, uhh, I called your name," he muttered sheepishly.

"Oh, sorry. I was kinda in the zone."

He nodded. "Yeah, I noticed. So, uh, whatcha doin'?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Working out...as one does in a gym."

He winced, feeling like an idiot. "I know that, but what I don't know is why."

"Why what?"

"Why are you suddenly working out in the gym for two straight hours? You hate the gym."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression. Your eyes were dark and your jaw was set as you regarded him. "You can't think of any reason?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. "No...hence why I'm asking."

You gestured to your body. "Because I'm not strong enough or fast enough or physically fit enough to hunt...sound familiar?"

Dean winced, eyes widening with realization. "(Y/N), I--"

You held up your hand. "No need to apologize, Dean. I realized you were right. I am weaker than you and Sam, I am slower and heavier and fatter--I am completely less physically capable than either of you. So obviously, I need to do something about that. Hence the gym."

Dean stared at her, anger darkening his features. "None of that is true."

"Of course it is, Dean. You said it yourself. I'm just agreeing with you."

"Of course you're not the same as us, (Y/N), but that has nothing to do with your body or your weight or your ability. We're men, and large ones at that. We're physically built different than you, but that doesn't mean you need to change anything about yourself to be more like us."

"Well clearly I do, or you wouldn't have found my body so unacceptable--you wouldn't have told Sam I'm not capable of hunting on my own."

Whatever thread was keeping Dean from yelling finally snapped. "Your body isn't unacceptable! You aren't weak! There is nothing wrong with you--nothing!"

You were stunned into silence by the intensity of his words. You didn't know how to react or what to say.

Dean sighed deeply, feeling the anger drain out of him at last. "You didn't hear the rest of our conversation, did you?" His voice was barely a whisper, but you could hear the raw emotion in it.

You shook your head.

"You should have stayed...you may have learned something."

"What would I have learned?" you asked quietly.

"You would have realized that your interpretation of my words wasn't at all how I meant them. You would have heard me tell Sam how terrified I am of losing you, how that fear makes me want to keep you out of this life--away from hunting entirely. You would have seen that I love you just the way you are--that I don't want you to change a single thing about yourself. You would know that I am the problem, not you...it was never you."

"Dean..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. "You...you don't need to try and make me feel better."

He stared at you, green eyes full of fire. "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to be honest about my feelings--to make you see you the way I see you."

"Why now?"

He was taken aback by your question, and it took him several moments to respond. "You know how I feel about romantic attachments...I worry about losing the person I love most, simply because they were unlucky enough to be loved by me. The fear of losing another person I love or have them be used against me is a pain I'm not sure I can bear. But you--you deserve better than my fears. You are the light to my darkness, my reason for living. I can't stand the thought of you believing I think less of you, not when I would burn the world down to keep you safe."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" you whispered, a glimmer of hope sparkling in your voice.

Dean took a step towards you. "If you think I'm telling you that I've been in love with you for years, that I love every single part of you inside and out, that I don't want you to change a single thing, that I think you're perfect...then yes."

You exhaled sharply, breathing ragged as you stared into his soulful green eyes.

He crossed the short distance between you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body, not caring about the sweat staining your body.

He practically crushed you against him, holding on more tightly than you'd ever imagined he would. After several moments, he loosened his grip on you so he could gaze down into your eyes. A small, lopsided smile graced his lips and his eyes fluttered shut. As his lips grazed against yours, you sighed softly, causing him to immediately deepen the kiss.

His hands dug into your soft flesh, seemingly reveling in the feeling of your body in his arms. His kiss was everything you'd imagined it would be and so much more--you felt safe, loved, and cherished. You didn't know you could have those feelings from a single kiss, but here you were, drowning in emotion, his love the life raft saving you from darkness.

When you finally parted, Dean rested his forehead against yours. "Do you believe me, (Y/N)? Can you see how much I love you? How badly I need you?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I believe you."

He sighed happily, breath mingling with yours. "Will you let me show you?"

You pulled away from him slightly so you could see his face better.

His eyes were dark with hunger, his gaze almost predatory. If you didn't know him, you would be frightened.

"Let me show you, sweetheart," he begged softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Let me show you how much I love your body--how badly I've wanted to touch it, mark it, make it mine. Let me touch every curve, kiss every scar--bite and lick and suck every pleasure point until you're a moaning mess in my arms. Let me make love to you the way you deserve."

No man had ever spoken to you like that, and you felt your toes curl at his words. If he could spark your body alive with nothing but words, you wondered what he was capable of doing with his body.

Your breathing was labored and your voice husky as you murmured, "How could I ever say no?"

Dean smirked and he tugged you to him again, lips crashing against yours. You felt his hands all over your body, clutching any part of you he could reach. His mouth left yours, lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking gently against the sensitive skin. He licked the column of your throat and groaned softly, muttering "salty" in a devilishly sexy voice.

You pulled away, suddenly remembering what you'd been doing when Dean interrupted you. "Wait--I-I need to shower first."

Dean groaned in annoyance. "No you don't."

You started to peel him off you with a light chuckle. "Yes, I do. I feel gross."

He pouted adorably. "For the record, I would make love to you on the sparing mat, right here, right now."

You laughed. "As hot as that might be, I really want to shower...I'll even let you join me." You shot him a wink and ran toward the door.

He realized what you'd said and turned to run after you, chasing you all the way to the showers. You giggled when he caught you, tugging you to him to kiss at your exposed neck and shoulders.

"Shower!" you squealed.

He groaned. "Fine, fine."

He practically dragged you into the bathroom, turning away from you to turn on the water before tugging you into the shower with him.

"Dean, our clothes--"

"They'll dry," he grumbled, fingers tugging on your shirt to lift it over your head.

You allowed him to remove it, neither of you paying attention to where it landed as he tossed it out of the shower. He did the same with his own shirt and jeans, followed by your leggings.

He spun you around, so your back was pressed against the cold tile, water spraying across your chest. He unzipped your sports bra and you allowed it to fall to the ground, revealing your heavy breasts to his wanton eyes.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, lips attaching to your pert nipple.

You ran your hands through his hair as he continued his gentle assault on your breasts. His lips didn't leave your chest, even as his hands trailed down to slowly peel off your underwear.

He slipped two fingers between your folds, collecting your slick and pressing firmly against your clit. You moaned softly at the sensation, head falling back against the tile.

He removed his fingers, slipping them between his lips and sucking them dry. "I need more," he murmured hungrily.

He dropped to his knees and grabbed your right leg, slinging it over his shoulder before you could utter a word. You started to complain that you needed to wash the sweat off first, but he ignored you, tongue sweeping between your folds without a care.

Any protests you may have had were lost as he worked his magic on your pussy. Your fingers twisted into his short hair, head back, mouth open, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you. You were thankful for the tile you leaned against and his strong arms holding you in place as he feasted on you.

Your legs began to shake and you cried out his name seconds before your orgasm hit you, sending you spiraling into bliss. Dean didn't want to stop, but your hands weakly tugged on his hair and your legs began to buckle, so he pulled himself up to keep you from falling.

"Delicious," he whispered against your mouth as he pressed another kiss to your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer to you and he shifted to press his body tightly against yours. You gasped as his still clothed member brushed against your thigh and your hands instantly slid down his body to rid him of the annoying fabric.

"Wanna touch you," you begged softly.

He groaned, but pulled away from your reach.

"Dean," you whined.

"Shh, let me wash you first," he insisted.

"But--"

He cut you off with a kiss. "Let me worship you before you touch me--I wanna make this about you."

Your expression softened and you leaned into him. "I love you, Dean."

Your voice was a low whisper, but he heard it all the same. You hadn't said the words earlier, a fact he had been trying to ignore. Hearing you say them now nearly had him throwing all his plans for the next week out the window--wanting to do nothing more than worship you from dusk to dawn for the foreseeable future.

"Dean?" you whispered warily, concern filling your eyes.

He used all his self-control to push his own needs and wants aside. "I heard you, baby," he assured you. "I heard you."

His kiss was gentler this time, sweeter even, and it warmed your body from the inside out. He broke away, panting, a whispered "I love you" pressed into your skin as he made his way down your body and back up again.

After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed the shower gel and loofa and slowly began to lather you up, washing your body in a surprisingly sensual way. When he finally decided you were clean, he helped you under the spray and made sure all the suds were rinsed off.

"Can I touch you now?" you begged.

He smiled warmly. "I suppose I can allow it." He forced his voice to be steady and calm, despite the desire screaming inside of him--begging him to take you well and properly.

You sunk to your knees, gaze lifting to meet his. You gave him a shy smile before taking his cock in your soft hands. He was larger than average, but you weren't afraid of the pain. Instead, you focused on giving him the same intense pleasure he had given you.

When you wrapped your lips around his cock, his head fell back and a groan escaped his parted lips. His fingers danced across your scalp, gathering your hair to one side so he could see you properly.

"Shit, sweetheart," he mumbled. "You're taking me so well."

You moaned around him, pleased with the praise he offered you. You continued to work him, using your tongue to caress and tease him in ways he'd never experienced before.

He wasn't at all surprised by your skill, but he was surprised by how damn good it felt. Sure, it had been a while for him, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a blow job that made his knees weak--if ever.

"Shit, baby," he whispered. "I'm so close--gonna cum for you."

His fingers raked through your wet hair and he used his other hand to lean against the tiles behind you. His hips jutted forward slightly as you relaxed your throat, taking him as far back as you could.

You flattened your tongue against his cock and flexed it, repeating the motion a few times before Dean's grip on your hair became painful and he exploded into your throat with a cry of your name.

You swallowed everything he had to give you, not releasing him from your lips until he pulled away, forcing the two of you to separate.

Dean leaned back against the shower wall and pulled you towards him, trying to support his weak legs while also helping you up. Once you were on your feet, he tugged you into him and placed a feverish kiss to your lips.

He panted heavily when he finally released you from his tight grip, allowing you to suck in some much needed air.

"Where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

You smirked. "It's a natural talent."

He grinned. "Well I fucking love it."

You laughed and leaned back into him, capturing his lips in a sweeter kiss. "So what are your thoughts on continuing this elsewhere?"

"Well my plan was to make you moan my name for the next several hours...I don't care where we go, as long as you're willing to let me ruin you."

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily and you moaned softly, biting into your bottom lip to keep the sound from being too loud. "My room?"

"My room is closer," he murmured into your shoulder.

You smiled and backed away from him, causing him to pout. You turned the water off and continued to back out of the shower. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around yourself, which only served to upset Dean.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Your eyes widened. "Putting on a towel so we can go to your room..."

"Did I say you could hide your body from me?" His tone was shockingly dominant and a spark of need went straight to your core.

"No," you whispered.

"I didn't think so." He stepped forward, dominance oozing from every pore in his body. "Drop the towel. Now."

You gasped softly, but heeded his command. The towel fell to the floor and he took yet another predatory step in your direction.

"Don't you ever hide yourself from me again. I wanna see every inch of your body." His hands grabbed at your hips roughly, tugging you towards him forcefully. "You're mine, do you understand me? Mine."

While the idea of someone owning you would normally piss you off, in this context it was a shocking turn-on. You swallowed thickly as you stared up into his heated gaze, suddenly unable to move, or even breathe.

He leaned down to kiss along your jaw towards your ear. He breathed slowly against your skin, causing you to shiver and clutch his arms for support. "Is this okay?" he whispered, voice still gruff, but much more loving.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to form actual words.

"Baby, I need you to tell me with your words. I need you to say whether this is okay or not. I don't wanna do something you're not into."

You turned your head a little so you could see his bright green eyes. The look in his eyes was reflected in your own and there was no doubt or fear in your voice when you answered him. "I'm very into it."

Your reassurance was all he needed to fall back into the dominant role. "Then you'd better get your ass into my bed before we have a problem."

You turned to open the door, yelping slightly when his hand smacked your ass. You shot him a surprised look and he looked slightly sheepish.

"Sorry, baby...I couldn't resist. You've got a great ass."

You smirked at the compliment and gave him a little wiggle before rushing into the hallway and making a beeline for his bedroom door.

He was surprised by your teasing action, but it only made him smile. He chased after you, mumbling, "Oh you're in for it now, princess."

You giggled as you landed on his bed, crawling up towards the headboard as he came through the doorway. He shut the door behind him and stalked to the edge of the bed, fiery gaze locked on you.

"It's unfair how sexy you look right now," he growled. "Makes me wanna fuck you senseless--make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."

You gulped, trying to hide behind false bravado. "Are you going to do that from the other side of the room?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be a brat."

"Why don't you come here and do something about it."

Dean practically jumped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him in seconds. His cock was hard again, pressing against your thigh--a reminder of how badly he wanted you.

"Not so mouthy now are you?"

"Dean, I--"

"Hush," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you. He shifted just enough so his cock brushed against your core, and you gasped into his mouth.

"How badly do you want me right now, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice rough with need.

"I've never wanted you more," you answered honestly.

He groaned lowly. "How do you want it? You want me to fuck you into this mattress or take it nice and slow?"

"Fuck me into the mattress," you begged softly. "Please."

"Jesus--I love when you beg for me," he growled.

"Fuck me, Dean," you pleaded. You weren't above begging, especially when it came to him.

Dean gripped his cock in his right hand and lined himself up with your entrance. He started to push in, trying to move slowly to avoid hurting you as much. "You're so fucking tight, baby," he whispered against your lips.

You gripped his biceps harshly, nails digging into his skin. The stretch was unbelievable, both painful and pleasurable all at once.

"You okay?" he whispered softly.

You nodded.

"Babe," he said in a warning tone.

"I'm okay--keep going."

He continued to push into you and your back arched as his cock brushed against your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, and Dean struggled to remain motionless until you told him it was okay to move.

"I need you to move, Dean--please."

He pulled himself up slightly and started a very gentle pace, still allowing you time to adjust. The last thing he wanted was to make this painful or uncomfortable for you. He didn't give a damn about his enjoyment--all he wanted was to watch you fall apart over and over again.

"Your pussy feels incredible, baby," he groaned. "I could stay here forever."

He began to move more quickly and your breathing became more erratic as you reveled in the pleasure of the moment. Your moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on as he slid into you again.

"I love the sounds you're making, sweetheart. I wanna hear you."

He picked up his pace and shifted you into a new position so he could get even deeper inside you. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, pussy clamping down on his cock in response.

"Shit--" he groaned. "You're squeezing me so tight--taking my cock so fucking well, gorgeous."

Your back arched again and your head was tossed back, pressing into the pillows at the head of the bed. Your hands twisted in the sheets, unable to reach his arms or his back as he slammed into you repeatedly.

He knew you were close, but he wasn't ready to feel you cum yet. "Look at me, baby."

He waited until your hazy eyes met his.

"Don't cum until I tell you to, understand?"

Your eyes widened. "But, Dean--"

"Not until I give you permission," he said firmly.

You nodded rapidly, not wanting to risk your orgasm altogether.

"Good girl."

You moaned loudly and your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, causing him to echo the sound.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You like it when I praise you, huh? You wanna hear about how much I love this pussy? How I've been thinking about fucking you for years? How I've craved your body?"

You were practically breathless beneath him, unable to formulate a response or even acknowledge his words.

"Your pussy is fucking perfect," he continued. "Made for me. And this body? Gorgeous and soft and fucking delicious. Can't believe I get to touch you like this--make you feel so good."

"Dean, please," you begged breathlessly.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You whimpered, but continued to focus on staving off your impending orgasm.

"Who owns this pussy, baby?"

You didn't answer--too focused on not cumming until he gave you permission.

His grip on your legs tightened, bringing your attention back to him. "That's it, pretty girl, look at me. Tell me who owns this pussy."

"You," you gasped out.

"That's right. This pussy is mine. I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this--make you moan and whimper and scream. No one else."

"Only you," you cried.

"Fuck--" His breathing had become ragged and he had begun to struggle to keep himself from orgasming.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum!" you begged.

Dean decided to take pity on you. "Cum for me, baby."

"Dean!" you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you. The pleasure so white hot and blinding you nearly blacked out.

Dean helped you ride out the waves of pleasure before lowering himself back down to hover over you. He placed soft kisses to your heated skin and whispered, "You're so damn beautiful when you cum."

You were gulping down mouthfuls of air, but you heard his whispered words. "I love you," you murmured.

He groaned softly. "Love you more."

He picked his pace back up, intent on giving you another orgasm before allowing himself to cum.

It didn't take long for him to work you back up, letting you hang on the precipice of blissful pleasure once more.

"You feel so good beneath me, baby. I love watching your pretty face as you fall apart. I just can't get enough of you," he admitted.

Your nails dug into his back, indicating you also couldn't get enough of him. "Dean, I need more," you pleaded.

"Touch yourself for me, baby. I want you to cum before I fill you up."

You lowered your hand down and slipped it between your bodies. You found your clit with ease and began to gently toy with it, sending pulses of toe curling pleasure up your spine.

"Fuck, yes. That's it baby. God, this pussy is addicting...don't ever wanna stop."

"So close," you whimpered.

"Yeah, sweetheart? You wanna cum?"

"Please, Dean."

"How badly?"

"Dean," you whined.

"Be a good girl and tell me how badly you wanna cum for me and maybe I'll let you."

"Please-please-please," you begged. "I wanna cum so bad. I need to cum, Dean, please!"

As much as he loved prolonging your orgasm, he couldn't bear saying no to you. "Cum for me, sweetness," he whispered into your ear.

Your body began to shake as the dam broke once again. You cried out as the pleasure invaded all of your senses, overwhelming you completely.

Dean began to chase his own high, desperately needing to fill you up with his seed. "You're the only woman who makes me lose control," he whispered into your skin.

You were surprised by his words, but they warmed your heart. Dean wasn't the kind of man to lose control often, so the fact that you made him do so was a massive ego boost.

"I wanna feel you fill me up, Dean," you murmured. "Need your cum inside me."

"Fuck," he growled, teeth grazing your pulse point.

His hips began to stutter as he reached his peak. Your nails scraped along his back, giving him the last push he needed to fall over the edge. He came with a guttural growl of your name, ropes of hot cum filling your pussy.

His arms started to feel weak as his orgasm came to an end, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you beneath his larger frame. You couldn't have been bothered to care if he'd literally smothered you--you were too fucked out to form coherent thoughts.

After a while, Dean managed to pull himself off of you, only to collapse on the bed beside you. He reached for you, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you into his chest.

"You're so damn incredible, (Y/N/N)," he whispered into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses there. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard--and you managed to do it twice."

"I can't feel my legs and my head is fuzzy," you mumbled. "So I second all of that."

Dean chuckled softly and held you even tighter. "I love you," he murmured. "More than you'll ever know."

"I think I have some idea," you whispered back. "And I love you just as much."

Dean smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. He knew he should get up, help you clean up and all that, but he couldn't get himself to move and you weren't complaining. In fact, your breathing had evened out and he had a feeling you'd be asleep soon.

He kissed your shoulder one more time before resting his head comfortably on the pillow, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Just as sleep threatened to claim him, he heard his brother's voice from the other side of the closed door.

"While I'm super happy for you both, I have one request. Next time the two of you decide to fuck each other's brains out, could you at least have the decency to wait until I'm gone? I can't un-hear any of that!"

You laughed lightly and you could feel Dean's laughter rumbling in his chest from behind you.

"We'll do our best," Dean called back. "But no promises! She's simply too hot to resist--you never know when I'll get the urge to ravish her."

You laughed even harder, but you reached behind you to lovingly smack his hip.

"Ohh gross, dude!" Sam grumbled before walking away, leaving the two of you alone again.

"You're so bad, Dean Winchester."

"I didn't hear you complaining when I was making your legs shake ten minutes ago."

You tossed him a grin over your shoulder. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."

He matched your grin. "Touché, my love. Touché."

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #supernatural #supernatural smut #dean winchester x plus size!reader smut #dean winchester x plus size reader

[hauntedwitch04]

Baby

Words: about 3k words

Warnings: smut, daddy/baby kink, DEAN FUCKING WINCHESTER (yes he is a warning himself because he is damn hot)

Author’s note: Hi loves! Here the second day of my kinktober. I enjoyed writing this so much. I love Dean and I love the idea of him into dirty talking so, you are welcome ;)

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 2: Dirty talking

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Do you like it baby?" Dean says as he looks at one of the loves of his life. With one hand he touches her gently, and whispers a few more compliments. The scene that paints itself before you is awkward, to say the least.

You can't help but snort as you watch your boyfriend "make love" with his car again. Feeling observed Dean immediately turns and looks at you, not immediately understanding what is wrong.

"Are you okay?" Seeing your face, which at the moment was not exactly the picture of happiness. You, unable to bear that situation any longer, get up from the garage counter on which you were sitting and quickly leave.

"Hey, baby, where are you going?" asks Dean following you, not understanding the reason for your discouragement.

Upon hearing that per name, fury ignites in you like a match that quickly sets a whole unsafe building made of ruined playing cards on fire. You turn toward him, anger erupting inside you, as he looks at you shocked.

"Don't even try to call me by that name Winchester! First you call your fucking car that and then your girlfriend! Are you kidding! I'm worth less than that piece of junk! If that's the case you might as well stop looking for me because you and I are done!" You scream shocking both Dean and you. When you finish an awkward silence falls between you, to say the least, so you quickly run to our room, and lock yourself in, too embarrassed to confront Dean right now about what you had said a few seconds ago. Slowly you make your way to your bed and sit down, thinking again about what had come out of your mouth. It had never occurred to you to yell like that at the oldest Winchester man, even before we started dating and were just two friends-enemies at work.

Inside you know you're a little sorry you said those things about Baby, after all, you love that car too and along with Dean and Sam, you have many of your fondest memories with them inside that car, but today has been a particularly heavy and difficult day for you, because all day long, since this morning, you've been craving to make love to Dean. You feel your cheeks immediately get hot at the idea of what you've been wanting to do to your boyfriend well since this morning, before being interrupted by Castiel, due to an emergency.

You had tried to forget the wet feeling in your panties, hoping that by merely passing time, your desire would subside until this evening, but instead seeing him move in his workshop had only inflamed even more the passion I already felt inside you.

You know you were wrong to yell at him like that, but at that moment I felt like I was going crazy, and you just wanted him to look at you and read in your eyes everything you wanted to do with him, instead of just looking at the car. For more than half an hour you had been thinking of all the ways he could take you on the hood of that car, and he was just thinking about how to polish it better. You're a little shocked by this fact because usually the one of the two of you who is usually the more resourceful in these things is him, and not you, and yet it looks like Dean Winchester had become a priest today.

You realize you are lost in your thoughts when you hear someone knocking at the door, already knowing who it was.

"Come in." You say in a whisper, so softly you're surprised I heard you, and yet, the door opens and shows your Dean in all his glory.

"Ehy" He says in an unsure voice as he looks at you waiting for your answer. You see pain shining in his eyes, from what you had said earlier probably, and immediately you feel guilty. You look into his eyes and wave to him to come and sit next to you. He pauses for a moment before doing what you had told him.

As soon as he rests on the bed you feel the warmth of his body immediately warm me, and unconsciously you move closer to him seeking comfort.

"Sorry" You say at the same time, and then look up and stare into each other's eyes and let a light laugh break free, and lighten the air a little.

"I'll start." Dean affirms and then takes a deep breath and begins to speak. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize how I was neglecting you, and I know I'm a dickhead and for that I apologize. I promise I will look at my car less and commit to doing more things with you that you enjoy. But you must promise me that next time you will tell me sooner if something bothers you and not just after so long. I love you and I want you to be okay, I don't want you to suffer anyway, and I don't want to be the cause of your discouragement especially, so please talk to me." He concludes the talk as he takes your hands and leaves a sweet kiss on both of them.

Again a wave of guilt makes its way inside you, as with your right hand I take his chin and again cause his gaze to rest in your eyes.

"You are not the one who should apologize. The fault is really only mine. Of course I would like you to look at Baby less, but I understand what it means to you, and I enjoy spending time with you fixing it and getting to know it. Today your car has been nothing more than the innocent victim of my anger and impatience." You confess, as you gently caress his cheek with your other free hand. He immediately places his face in your palm and enjoys that contact as he frowns.

"What made you so angry?" He asks curiously, before changing his expression and becoming very frightened. "Is it something I did?" He asks fearfully, and you shake your head slightly amused.

"You didn't do anything." You say, lowering your gaze. "On the contrary, it's something you didn't do." You continue in a low voice, thinking he doesn't hear you, but as always luck is not on your side and he looks at you even more confused, trying to understand the meaning of your words, like a puppy learning commands for the first time.

"What wouldn't I have done love? If you try to explain, I might find a solution. "He says, trying to be convincing, but immediately you feel your cheeks get hot and you imagine you have turned the color of a bell pepper. You stammer incomprehensible explanations for a few minutes before taking a big breath closing your eyes and deciding that the omelette was now done. You close your eyes before opening them again and looking down at your hands, while in a low voice you confess to Dean what seems to be your biggest secret.

"Do you remember this morning when Castiel arrived?" You ask unsure, not looking at him. He takes your hands and tries to lower himself to meet your gaze.

"Of course I remember." Responds the older Winchester, not understanding where this speech is actually going.

"Well, do you also happen to remember what we were doing before Castiel came along?" You go on in a whisper, thinking more and more that it was the wrong idea. He pauses for a moment, trying to bring back the images of this morning, not understanding what you are referring to. Then, like lightning in a clear sky, an image appears before his eyes.

You lying under him as he kissed your neck and you moaning his name like a prayer. His hand was under your shirt and was caressing your breasts, while he was positioned between your legs, making sure that you felt his presence in the most sensitive spot on your body. Remembering that scene, everything immediately seems to make sense now in Dean's mind and like a puzzle everything seems to take on a sensible shape.

You meanwhile had looked up, sensing this important silence on his part, and now as you are staring at him, you notice that his usual little mocking smile seems to be forming on his lips, and you realize that he now knows, too.

Dean slowly approaches you, before moving your hair away from your neck with a hand gesture as light as a gentle gust of spring wind. Soon after, you feel his lips settle, light as a butterfly on a flower, on your neck. You cannot help but let out a silent moan as you feel every muscle in your body relax and melt under his touch, as you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure of that moment. You bend your neck slightly, giving him the chance to have access to more skin, and so he slowly begins to leave a trail of kisses along every inch of your skin, until satisfied with his work he pulls away, licking his now red and swollen plump lips, to go whisper something in your ear. At the loss of that contact you let a soft moan escape your lips, and you hear him smile against your ear as he strokes your face with his hand.

"Is my poor little girl sad because this morning Daddy didn't finish what he started? Were you in such a bad mood because you didn't get my cock? Oh poor my needy little girl." Dean whispers in your ear as he takes your earlobe between his lips. You can't help but moan, not caring that either Sam or Castiel could come in at any moment. You immediately feel your panties get wet, just hearing his words. The hunter's hand travels and passes from your face, to caress your breasts over your shirt, to pass over your belly and finally reach the beating heart of your pleasure. With an expert gesture he gets his hand into your pants, which even you cannot understand how he managed to do it, but the only thing you know is that within seconds you feel his fingers caressing your pussy. You just repeat his name like a mantra, as if it were the only certain thing in your mind clouded by the pleasure he is giving you, just with that simple gesture and his words.

"Oh feel how wet you are baby. You like what I'm doing to you, don't you? Do you like it when I talk dirty to you?" he asks, but you can't answer, so you just nod, but he, not satisfied with your answer, withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, sucking on them as if they were the tastiest lollipop he's ever tasted, so much so that you let out a moan of approval.

You look at him and immediately can't help but let another involuntary sound escape from your mouth of pleasure at seeing him perform that impure act. He looks at you smiling and brings his fingers back into your pussy to collect some more of your fluids, and this time when he takes his hand away, he rests his fingers on your lips, and with his piercing green eyes he stares straight into your eyes.

"Suck baby, I want you too to know how good your pussy is." He says, in a rough and sensual tone, so keeping your gaze fixed in his eyes, you wrap his fingers between your lips and begin to suck lightly, to increase more and more the eagerness with which you do it. He cannot help but be pleased as he watches you. You feel by now that a lake has formed in your panties, so you let go of his fingers, and ask him in a whisper.

"Please Dean, I need more." You beg him, as you begin to undo his pants with one hand. He immediately stops you, laying his large rough hand on yours, while the other takes your face in his hands and brings your eyes back to his.

"What do you want baby? You have to tell me, or how can I give it to you." He says, with a mocking smile plastered on his face. You blush again, as you gather your courage.

"I-I need you Dean." You say at the end, finding no other words to say it.

"Oh my little girl is embarrassed? Is she afraid to say she wants my cock inside her? You don't have to be ashamed baby, if that's what you want you'll get it, but you have to tell Daddy well what you want first." He explains as he slowly strips you of the various garments you are wearing. First he takes off your T-shirt, then your pants, next he moves on to your bra and last your panties, letting the cold air of the room come in contact with your warm center, making you shiver, and making your mind unable to think of anything else but him fucking you so hard that he slams the headboard of the bed into the wall, so hard that it leaves its mark. You look at him begging him not to humiliate you like that, but you know deep down you like it when he talks like that, and he knows it too so he lets you go.

"Please Daddy, I need your big cock inside my little pussy. I need you to fuck hard just the way you know how, please Daddy." You beg him as again you start to undo his pants, but this time he doesn't stop you and lets you do it, smiling contentedly.

"That's right, my little girl needs to be fucked every day or she goes into withdrawal, doesn't she baby?" He says, as he watches you wrap your lips around his member and can't help but moan at that scene.

"That's right baby, you're great. You like sucking my cock, don't you?" He asks as he gathers all your hair into a messy tail, imposing the rhythm he likes best. You nod, trying not to choke, and he can't help but smile in satisfaction. "You like it when I talk to you like that, don't you, baby? I bet if I stuck two fingers in your tight pussy now this one would be all wet and hot the way I like it."

"Dean please I need you." You beg him at last, pulling away from him slightly. The man nods and as if you weighed nothing he throws you down on the bed. By now you are both naked, you feel his body on yours and can't help but draw him closer to you. You feel his cock brushing against your entrance, when with a firm gesture he enters you, making you both scream with pleasure.

"Oh God, baby, I swear I could live inside this pussy. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Having my cock inside you all the time, ready to fuck you whenever I want." Dean moans close to your ear as he continues to move inside you with firm, fast thrusts, not letting you have even a second to rest. You feel your body vibrate with pleasure as sounds come out of your mouth that you can no longer control. Your hands grip the covers of the bed tightly as you bite Dean's shoulder hard, trying to wake up anyone within a five-mile radius.

By now you can no longer conceive the conception of time, everything seems confused, and the only thing you understand is that you are getting closer and closer to your orgasm. Your hands move to the back of the man on top of you, scratching his entire back.

"Dean, please don't stop." You whisper in his ear, before tossing your head back, praying that he won't play with you and let you achieve pleasure.

"My baby girl is about to have the orgasm she so longed for. You want to come on top of my cock baby, don't you? God I could come just imagining your pussy clenching around my cock." He replies, as he increases the speed to help you achieve what you so longed for.

"Dean- Fuck, I'm cumming." You scream, reaching for the pleasure. You close your eyes, and for a moment you really feel like you are touching heaven with your finger. Your whole body quivers and can't stop stopping, and you only manage to return to your body after a few minutes.

In the meantime, he had made a few more movements, fast and bumpy, and had reached orgasm as well. You spent a few moments still, catching your breath, Dean lying on top of you, before moving to your side on the bed and surrounding you with his arms.

You spend a few minutes like this, enjoying the silence that hovers like a comfortable blanket over your bodies after that moment of passion, before Dean ruins, as is his wont, that moment.

"Honey, are you really jealous of my car?" He asks, in what sounds like a serious tone to you, so you turn to face him, but he continues. "Because you know I love that car, but you're definitely the one with the best body." He says, winking at you. "Should I start calling you my little race car?"

"Dean, one more word and I swear I'll cut your balls off."

"Received message."

TAGLSIT

@river-rat69 @ladysparkles78 @samanddeansannoyingsis @ash04w3 @l3viathanpup @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @that1nerd20 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @hi-my-name-is-riley @shodowbane09 @supernatural-lvr

#dean winchester x plus size reader #deanwinchesterxreader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester smut #supernatural x reader #hauntedwitch04's writing #kinktober 2023

[zepskies]

Show Me - Part 2

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader || Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy (background)

Summary: Dean meets your infamous ex-boyfriend at a fallen hunter’s funeral. You just forgot to mention that he’s a hunter as well. Maybe because he still has the power to get under your skin…in the worst of ways.

AN: I know I said I'd release this on Wednesday, but I thought I'd get this out a bit early. Here’s Part 2! **Read Part 1 here.

Word Count: 5,300

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, angst, body insecurity, hurt/comfort, body appreciation.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: “A Thorough Reminder”

It’s a few hours’ drive back to Lebanon.

Dean stops at one of your favorite restaurant chains for takeout, though he notices how you only eat about half of what you ordered. Even he managed to eat all of his bacon cheeseburger, and that was after an entire afternoon of snacking and day drinking.

“Thought you were hungry,” he says.

You shrug as you package up the rest of your dinner and lean back in the passenger seat.

“I don’t know. Guess I don’t have much of an appetite today.”

You’re normally a stress eater, by trade. But today, a familiar anxiety has crept in, taking root in your chest, and creating a mental block between your throat, your brain, and your stomach.

Despite what some people might like to believe, Dean does notice the small things, when it matters.

He glances at you, catches the way you rub at your tired face and release a small sigh.

“You okay?” he can’t help but ask.

You nod absently. “I’m fine, Dean.”

His lips press together. That doesn’t sound like fine. It sounds a lot like Winchester fine.

“I didn’t know he was a hunter,” he remarks.

You both know who he’s referring to. You look over at him, resigned, and a little annoyed.

Dean’s palms lift halfway off the steering wheel as he shrugs.

“You made it seem like he was a normal Joe,” he says. “Some dude you met in Miami.”

“We did meet in Miami,” you confirm. Part of you falters with another sigh. You don’t want to talk about this, but you suppose you might as well get it over with. Dean deserves an explanation.

“Okay, here it is,” you begin. “Carter came into town on a job. I caught wind of it not long after he did, and when we eventually ran into each other, we agreed to work the case…”

And you and Carter were good together, at least on the hunt. There had been a certain rugged charm and confidence to him that had drawn you in (apparently, you had a type). When he’d asked to stay with you for a few days, you hadn’t been able to say no.

“I thought it was because…he wanted to see more of me,” you explain. Your expression turns dry. “Maybe that was part of it, but mainly, he was broke. He literally couldn’t leave. Not until he scored some cash.”

Dean doesn’t want to think about how that guy charmed you, luring you in with what he thought you might want to hear. Though he processes all this with a nod. You’ve filled in most of the gaps, and he thinks he knows where this part of the story leads to: the one thing you did tell him about your ex.

“So you helped him get a job,” Dean supplies. His wry gaze meets yours. “At the local strip joint.”

“As a bouncer,” you specify. “He wasn’t qualified for much else. As it was, he needed me to talk to the manager for him. It was a Miami club run by Latinos. They weren’t going to hire a random white guy off the street who didn’t even speak Spanish.”

“Not until you finessed them,” Dean smirked.

You flash him a small smile. “I’m good with people.” 

You hadn’t realized it at the time, under the haze of a hunters’ romance, but everything with Carter had been at his convenience, and whatever he needed from you. A hunting partner. A bit of money (a loan, he’d claimed). Some good food and a place to stay, free of charge. Not to mention a warm bed.

The giver in you had been all too ready to oblige.

“And when he got enough money to hit the road, he asked me to go with him,” you continue. “My grandma was still alive at the time. I had never left the city for more than a few days before, in case she needed me, but she told me to go. To live my life…so I did.”

You turn to Dean then. You suck in a breath as your eyes begin to sting.

“It’s my biggest regret,” you say. “She was gone by the end of the year.”

Dean sobers. His eyes soften, and he reaches across your thigh for your hand. You lace your fingers with his.

“I told you, she basically raised me,” you say. You brush away a tear from your cheek, sniffling. “…I should’ve been there.”

Dean raises your hand to his lips. “That’s not on you.”

You shake your head instead of answering. You’d been on a hunt with Carter when you got the call from your grandma’s neighbor. For almost a year, you’d lost what you hadn’t realized was precious time.

Meanwhile, you’d become what you’d thought was a partner, both on the Job and in life. Turns out, you’d been more like a sidekick, allowing Carter to tell you where, when, and how. It took your grandmother’s death to snap you out of the trance. 

So you went home, picked up the pieces of your life…and you started again, somehow.

“A few months later,” you say, squeezing Dean’s hand. “I met you in a dirty bar in Las Cruces.”

He shoots you a more amused look.

“You mean you tried to hustle me,” he says.

Your lips curve into a grin. “Oh, please. You knew what you were getting into.”

Dean chuckles at that, tossing his head back against his headrest.

“Well, not exactly,” he says. Your hand is still tucked in his, and his thumb draws back and forth across your fingers.

He hadn’t known you were a hunter at first. He’d noticed your curves in those tight jeans and fitted top, your red lips, the shade of your hair, the perceptive gleam in your eyes—he’d liked it all.

Still, after he watched you hustle a guy out of all his money that night, just to give him $30 back so he could afford to get home…he’d known then that there was something special about you.

Then you’d slid into the seat next to him at the bar. Your English had been as smooth as your Spanish, and he’d been all too willing to get hooked into a game of pool with you.

He hadn’t known then that he was staring into the face of his future. 

“I knew I wanted you in my bed that night,” Dean says. His easy smile is flirtatious, but his eyes are honest, finding yours. “I just didn’t count on you being even more badass than I took you for.”

Your cheeks warm as you fight a deeper smile, shaking your head.

You lean over as far as you can with your seatbelt on and press a kiss to his cheek. You linger there, with your hand reaching out to caress his face. You don’t want his eyes to leave the road, but you want him to know what he means to you right now. 

After you pull away, he gives you one of those grins, and his eyes are dancing. It makes him both a giant dork, and incredibly charming all at once.

Not for the first time, you’re grateful to know this man—let alone be with him.

And yet, Dean knows.

Something’s not quite right with you.

He feels it in his gut when you two get back to the bunker that night. You shower quickly and alone, and you took a change of clothes into the bathroom with you, like he’s never seen you naked before.

By the time Dean finishes his own shower and gets dressed, you’re getting ready for bed as you putter about the room. He eyes your long pants and sweatshirt.

“You cold?” he asks, while digging in his dresser for a clean pair of sweatpants.

You spare him a glance, but you don’t fully turn to him while you go through your skincare routine with your hair clipped up.

“No, I’m good,” you reply.

“So why the long johns,” he quips, gesturing at your pants. He can’t remember the last time you wore anything but a shirt and underwear to bed (or less). He catches the look on your face in the dresser mirror: a slight pause, a press of your lips, but your face is otherwise guarded.

“I guess I am a little cold,” you say. You head to the bathroom again to finish the rest of your nightly routine, but you don’t see the way Dean’s frown follows you.

He later waits for you in bed. He pauses in his iPad scrolling when you slip in beside him under the covers. You've let your hair back down, nice and wild the way he likes it.

You heave a sigh. “Good night.”

“Hold up,” Dean says. With a hand on your shoulder, he stops you from facing away from him. He leans in and caresses your cheek with his thumb. You give him a small smile.

And he gives you a slow, purposeful kiss. He pulls away, just enough to see your eyes, beautiful and warm. He leans in again and angles into a new kiss, one that deepens with a spark of heat. He props himself up with a forearm above your head, digging into your pillows.

His thigh slots between your legs. For a reason you don’t want to name, you fight the instinct to press your center against him. His hand on your cheek slides down your neck, down the front of your close-necked shirt, between your breasts. He finds purchase on your hip and squeezes soft, tender flesh.

That’s when you stop him with a gentle push on his chest.

You slowly break from his kiss and lick your lips. Your eyes are apologetic.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m just…I’m tired,” you say.

Dean nods and lets out a sigh through his nose. He shifts more fully onto his side, lifting his weight off of you, and brushes your hair back from your face.

“You sure you don’t have anything you wanna talk about?” he asks.

You raise a brow at him. “Like what?”

“Like how you’re letting that asshole get back into your head,” Dean replies.

His gaze feels heavy on you, and you pause, staring back at him in soft shock.

“I’m not—”

“Look, I know you. And whatever this is, it’s more than what we talked about in the car,” he says, with a firm, yet gentle gaze. “If there’s something else you need to get out, you can tell me.”

Dean has worked hard to help you through the mental roadblocks you’ve had in the past—about you being comfortable with yourself, and with him. He’s not going to let some dipshit like Carter undo all of that, unraveling you with a single thread.

But your mouth works as you start to get annoyed, and even a bit angry at his accusation.

“Just because I don’t want to have sex, doesn’t mean I’ve got a problem, okay Dean? I just want to sleep,” you say tersely.

Dean’s jaw clenches at your tone. His head quirks, and he nods.

“Fine,” he says. “We’ll sleep.”

He turns around and shut off his beside lamp, casting the room in darkness. You huff and turn onto your side, away from him.

You cover yourself with the blankets up to your shoulders, but the longer you lay there in silence, the more that guilt prickles in your chest, along with the tightness of anxiety that welled up when he started to touch you.

Fuck, what’s wrong with me? you think, trying to work through the emotion clogging in your throat. You haven’t felt like this in years…

Slowly you turn back towards Dean. By now your eyes have adjusted enough to see the outline of his broad back in his gray shirt. You steel yourself with another shaky breath, and you scoot forward across the bed. Your curled hands rest against the middle of his back, where you also press your forehead. You feel his body tense up a little.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper in the dark.

After a beat, you hear him sigh. Dean reaches out to turn the lamp back on, filling the room once again with soft light. He turns and finds you haven’t moved, though you stare up at him with shining eyes.

His own soften. He takes one of your hands and presses the back of it to his lips.

“Talk to me,” he says, and he waits for you to gain your courage.

After another couple of steadying breaths, you begin.

“There’s too many things I didn’t realize at the time,” you say. “He didn’t force me to go with him, to stay with him… Even when I felt like shit inside, I thought he was right about me. I thought he needed me, and that made everything else okay.”

You sniffle, and a tear rolls down your cheek. Dean’s hold on you tightens a fraction. He’s listening intently, but in his silence, there’s anger. He wishes he really had broken that guy’s hand. Or at least his goddamn mouth.

“I mean, what the hell was I thinking?” you ask, laughing a bit through your tears. “I always thought I was stronger than that, you know? I just realize now that…I must not have liked myself very much.”

Dean lets go of your hand, just to dry your face. He’s no stranger to looking in the mirror and not liking the man staring back at him, but he doesn’t think that’s your problem. 

He caresses your cheek, shakes his head, and he offers a rueful smile.

“Nah. You just have a habit of fallin’ for poor sons of bitches who don’t deserve you,” he says.

You read between his self-deprecating lines there, raising your brows at him.

“Hey. That might be true, but you better not be lumping my boyfriend in with the rest of them,” you say firmly. Your arms slip around his waist, and you press yourself in close.

Dean chuckles and welcomes you into his arms as well. His hand tangles in your hair, and his lips find your neck with a deep inhale.

He knows what kinds of thoughts are likely plaguing your mind, just like he knows that whatever he says will only go so far. He presses a kiss to your neck that grazes with teeth. You let out a little hum of surprise. He smiles and begins to move down, letting his lips brush across your skin.

“I’ll just speak for myself then,” he says. His hand trails lower and brushes the side of your breast. “If you need me to remind you how beautiful you are, how goddamn sexy…then I got no problem showing you.”

His hand moves down the soft slopes of your body and comes to rest at the curve of your waist. Hearing your faltering breath, Dean pulls back so he can see your face.  

“Let me take care of you for a change,” he says. His lips pull at a grin, and it makes you smile in turn.

You take his face in your hands and bring him down to you for a kiss, languid and a bit devouring. It makes heat lick up Dean’s spine.

“Okay,” you whisper, close to his lips. “Show me.”

His grin deepens, teeth shining. “Yes, ma’am.”

This man is nothing if not endearing, and it earns a giggle from you as he moves down your body. First, you help him with getting your sweatshirt up and over your head; the collar is close to your neck and he doesn’t want to choke you (yet).

His gaze focuses on the rise and fall of your chest, the familiar sight of your full breasts, waiting for him to touch and tease.

Before he can start to follow through with his mental plans, you sit up with him and your hands dive under his shirt, both to start inching it up, and to feel him. His stomach clenches under the soft graze of your nails, but he gently pushes you back down onto the bed.

“What’d I just tell you?” he chides.

You give him an incredulous smile. “What, I’m not allowed to touch you?”

Dean reaches up to pull his shirt off from behind his neck. It’s a smooth move, and your eyes roam over his chest, and lower still.

He smirks. “Just be a good girl and wait your turn.”

You bite your lip to stifle a laugh. You let him finish undressing you by peeling off the sweatpants. You were getting hot in those anyway.

He leaves your panties on for now, but he travels back up to slot himself between your open legs. With a forearm braced above you, he starts again from the top.

He caresses your cheek, and begins with a trail of warm, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

You sigh at the attention, tilting your head to make room for him. The sound of your voice is just one thing that he loves (and you know it), but Dean also loves the smoothness of your tan skin. He doesn’t mind a few faded stretch marks here and there, the lower he gets. He’s got a few scars and worry lines himself.

What matters to him is the sounds he’s able to pull from you as he nips and licks down between your breasts. He massages and teases one with his hand, while his tongue lavishes attention on the other. He earns a breathy sigh, a moan when his lips find the hardening buds, your knees starting to bend and squeeze his waist. He already feels the dampness of your clothed core brushing his thigh.

“Already squeezing on me, huh? I’ve barely touched you,” Dean teases. He nips at a plush spot on your left side, below your breast—something you might’ve been insecure about, if his thumb wasn’t also still distracting you by swirling over a nipple. His hands are sinfully good (something you love).

You utter a small moan and grasp his wrist just for something to hold onto as his mouth continues worshipping every curve of your body. Even the parts you’d usually rather him steer away from.

Dean senses your tension, however, when his teeth graze your soft stomach. He glances up at you, finding a bit of insecurity in your eyes.  

“Here’s the thing,” he says, and his lips move against your skin. “You act like I haven’t already seen and conquered every square inch of you. Like I haven’t torn you apart, time after time.”

He sits back up, and his hands squeeze your hips and thighs and ass. He moves up to look down on you with almost predatory focus. Like he’s trying to determine what part of you he wants to devour next.

It’s a look you’ve seen before, though it still makes your face warm and your pussy clench on nothing. Your mouth parts with an unsteady laugh. 

“You’ve got a point,” you nod. Dean shoots you a smirk, but he still takes your hand from where it’s been tangled in the sheets. He presses a kiss into your palm.

“You don’t gotta hide from anybody,” he says. “For damn sure, you ain’t hiding from me. You're too damn beautiful for that.”

You smile up at him, softer now as you thread your fingers with his.

He soon lets you go though. Because his hand moves down and down, to brush his fingers along your clothed core. You breathe deeper in anticipation, but his grin tells you that he’s not going to make this quick.

“Dean,” you implore him.

“Yeah, baby,” he answers. The pads of his fingers stroke and press into you. You lean into his touch, wanting and craving more. But he doesn’t give it to you just get.

He keeps teasing you, brushing your clit through the soaked fabric of your panties. It’s sort of what you want, and yet nowhere near enough. You can taste the edge of pleasure, just starting to make you squirm against his hand.

“You’re killing me here,” you whine.

“I’m ‘a need you to be patient,” he says. 

You laugh, both incredulous and frustrated. His grin is damn near insufferable now.

Dean’s fingers move your panties aside, but they do no more than brush against the wet seam of your pussy. You hum and try to press into his hand. He doesn’t heed your unspoken demand.

He thinks you’re sexy as hell like this, writhing and waiting for his touch. He just wants to savor that for a bit longer—that he’s the only one who gets to see you like this. He’s the only one who gets to tease you, to be with you, to love you. 

You’re getting impatient though. With a ragged sigh, you sit up and hook a hand behind his neck and pull him down into your kiss. He chuckles against your lips when he feels your hand sliding from his chest to the generous bulge in his sweatpants. You stroke up and down the full length of him with a practiced hand.

“I get it, baby. I do,” you pant, “but I need you.”

He falters for a moment, grunting when your hand slips into the front of his pants and boxer briefs and takes his cock firmly in hand. Your touch is soft and warm and you know how to elicit a shiver running down his spine.

Dean has a plan though, and he forces himself to focus through gritted teeth. He takes your wrist, carefully guides it out of his pants, and pins it beside your head, using his strength against you. It’s as frustrating as it is hot, making your skin flush as you stare up at him. 

“We’re not there yet,” he tells you. Amusement gleams in his eyes. “But I like the enthusiasm.”

Without warning, he pulls away from you. He sits up on his knees and grabs the nearest pillow. He grasps your thighs and raises you up enough to slide the pillow underneath your ass, which he bares after snatching off your panties. You yelp and the suddenness of your underwear sliding off your legs. He tosses them elsewhere.

“What, now you’re speeding things up?” you remark.

Dean raises his brows at you. “What gave you that idea?”

He shifts down the bed and sinks down between your thighs. You lean up just on your elbows so you can try to figure out what he’s about to do (though you have a pretty good guess). For a delicious moment, you feel his warm breath against your pussy. You clench in anticipation…

Until he veers further down the inside of your thigh. His hand moves smoothly underneath one of your thick thighs and hooks it over his shoulder. He starts with wet kisses from the inside of your knee, steadily moving up your thigh. Your eyes close as your breathing shallows.

You force yourself to take deeper breaths as the gentle feeling of his lips, and a hint of teeth, continues to make your body tingle with pleasure. You feel warmth and wetness pooling between your legs. Your core is already throbbing with need.

Just as Dean draws near to the apex of your thighs…he changes course, starting the same path of kisses up your other leg. You blow out a shaky sigh and have to clench your hands into the sheets. His name falls from your lips, both a reverent sigh and a plea.

You know what he’s doing. He’s worshipping your body in the sweetest of ways. You knew he was going to take his time with you, working you up, but this is both heaven and hell.

“Would you relax?” he says, chuckling into your skin.

You release a breathy giggle. “Yeah, right. I love and hate you right now.”

Dean’s shoulders shake with near silent laughter. His free hand soothes up and down the thigh he holds propped up on his shoulder.

“As long as it’s more of the first one, we’re good,” he teases.   

You groan, but eventually you relax against the bed. You realize now that you’re more comfortable, more focused more on the pleasurable sensations he’s giving you than on how exposed you are right now. You smile begrudgingly, as you realize that’s probably what Dean wanted all along. 

Just when your body is starting to settle into this, you gasp when you feel his tongue finally lick a warm stripe up the seam of your pussy.

Your head raises, and you see your man’s mischievous green eyes and the edge of his smile between your legs. Your mouth opens to say something petulant, but you cry out when his fingers slip past your wet folds and find your clit.

He knows where you’re most sensitive, what’s going to have you even more slippery and pulsing with need. His tongue replaces his hand, licking and sucking at your clit, while his fingers slip into your tight entrance and fuck into you slowly.

“God, Dean,” you breathe. Your nails dig back into the mattress.

You feel his voice reverberate inside you when he says, “Relax…”

He's already hooked your thighs over his shoulders. The pillow under your raised hips just gives him even more leverage to work you over. His mouth is noisy and makes you blush down to your neck, but you can’t help fisting a hand into his hair and clenching tight as he brings you right to the edge…

And he tumbles you over. His fingers brush deliberately and firmly against that sensitive spot deep inside you, until your inner walls quiver and your legs shake around his head.

Then you’re coming all over his hand. Your whimpers turn into a moan of release as warmth travels from your center, throughout the rest of your body. His tongue doesn’t stop, and your skin tingles, causing a shiver to run up your spine and arch your back as you moan. 

He doesn’t pull away until your clit becomes oversensitive, and you start to squirm away from his hold. When he finally gives you reprieve, your body sags on the bed and your head rolls to the side as you try to catch your breath.

Dean’s panting hard too by the time he’s done. He has to wipe his mouth, nose, and hand, but he still strokes your thighs after he guides your legs off his shoulders and back to the bed.

Since you’re incapable of speech at the moment, you tug more gently on his hair to get his attention. He greets you with a grin as he takes in how wrecked you are.

You smile back and beckon him with a curling finger. “Come ‘ere.”

Dean obliges you, moving up your body to prop himself up on a forearm, next to your head. You grab his chin and bring him down to you for a searing kiss. You shudder a little, as you can taste yourself on his tongue. The press of his fingers along the small of your back brings more tingles across your skin.

You feel him hard and heavy against your thigh. You let your hands run down his back as well. Down the slope of his spine, and under the waistband of his sweatpants.

“I need you,” you whisper, in the small space between your faces.

“Yeah?” he pants, though his tone is teasing. “Where?”

“Inside me,” you reply. Your thighs squeeze his hips, pressing his length against your center and earning a groan out of him. “Fuck me ‘til it hurts.”

Dean’s grip on your hip tightens. He drops a biting kiss to your throat and nods. He quickly gets the rest of his clothes off, then he directs you to move onto your side. You’re a bit confused at first, but you oblige him. He kneels between your thighs, straddling the bottom one, then hooking your top leg over his.

He pushes his cock into you slowly, making you both breathe harder as he stretches you and finds his way home.

This angle is different, but it’s good. You feel him bottom out deep and snug inside. Already your inner walls respond to the feeling of him, and you tighten on reflex.

Dean makes a sound of pleasure and presses his forehead against your shoulder for a moment. 

“What’s this, like doggy style?” you ask.

“Kind of,” he says, giving you a grin. “This way, I can still see your pretty face.”

You can’t help a giddy burst of laughter, even though your face warms. Yes, he still manages to make you blush when he talks like that.

Dean smirks in amusement. Once again, he swipes a thumb across your cheek and presses a kiss to your lips. You hold him there and lick into his mouth. When he starts to move, rocking out, then back inside of you with ease, you shudder at the feeling of him. Your thigh curls tighter around his hip, and he squeezes your soft flesh there.

“I happen to like a little give,” he says, with a lusty gleam in his eyes. “You know why?”

You’re already panting for breath. His slow strokes make you feel every inch of him, but you lick your lips and meet his hot gaze. You start to smile as you humor him.

“Why?” you ask.

“Call it a ‘soft landing,’” he grins. “Makes it feel that much better when I fuck you good and deep.”

Your mouth falls open, this time more in shock as you blush further and shiver in arousal—not only at his words, but the sound of his voice, and his sincerity. You unintentionally clench on his cock, and he groans. He gives your ass a heavy smack. You jolt with a gasp.

“Keep that up,” his voice deepens, rough with pleasure. “’Bout to fuckin’ wreck you.”

All you can do is nod and hold on tight for the damn ride.

He builds up the pace, until he needs a hand on the headboard for balance. The old mattress creaks to the tempo of his pounding strokes, and he’s hitting your G-spot with every single one of them. Your toes curl and you grab onto his thigh to help keep both of you steady.

You feel that coil starting to tighten, but you’re not quite there. You reach down between your bodies and massage your clit in time with his thrusts. Your eyes close on a gasp.

And the coil eventually snaps. Your inner walls spasm and flutter around him, making his hips stutter.   

“That’s it, baby. Let go for me,” he grits out. He chases his own release as well as yours. “So fucking sexy like this, coming apart for me.”

He's spurred on by the way your voice echoes in his ears. A few more hard thrusts, and he’s spilling into you. He fills you up with his warmth and makes a shiver run through your body.

You’re gripping his thigh so tightly you’re probably giving him bruises, but it’s not unlike the fingerprints you often find on your ass and hips (and probably will find tomorrow).

You finally twist onto your back and relax. Dean catches himself against the bed before he crushes you with his weight. You welcome him anyway, with your hand soothing up and down his back.

“You okay?” he asks. Somehow, his gruff voice is still soothing to you. 

You smile, giving a teasing squeeze on his arm. “Much better.”

He chuckles at that. His skin is dewy and sticks to yours, but you don’t mind. In turn, he brushes your now frizzy hair away from your face and neck, so it fans out on the pillow instead.

After he untangles from you and rolls onto the bed at your side, he lays there on his back and tries to regain his breath. You turn toward him and press a kiss into his shoulder.

“Thank you…for reminding me,” you say.

For making me feel beautiful, wanted, loved…

You try to blink past the sting of tears, but you know your eyes are shining.

“I love you,” you remind him.

Dean’s face warms and softens. He reaches over and takes your hand. Again, he presses it to his lips. 

I love you too, that gesture says. Then he smiles. 

“Any time you need a little show and tell, I’m here.”

AN: 😮‍💨 Well then! lol I hope you liked this! For me it was equal parts fun and cathartic, being a plus-size girl myself. 💗💗

I was definitely thinking of that scene in 9.13:

Mala: "What can I say? Sometimes it's nice to feel a little give."

Dean *has an epiphany*: "Oh. Yeah, I get that. A little extra cushion for the, uh..." *fist pounding motion* (lmfao)

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "Get Stuffed":

Summary: Dean enjoys the way you cook Christmas dinner with a Latin flair, even if Sam likes to tease him about his insatiable appetite. You remind Sam about the true reason behind one of Dean’s biggest quirks.

▶️ Next Story: Get Stuffed

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Comfort 

You finally get to sleep in your own bed once again. Just to have a nightmare about the traumatizing hunt the night before. Seeking reassurance you decide to crawl into bed with Dean.

Warnings: none! just some nice fluff. Rating: anyone can read this! Word count : 345

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A/N: I am taking requests for any character! feel free to ask

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Nightmares weren't unusual for you, you actually had them very often doing this job. But, you never had one like this.

You woke up in a cold sweat, and you could feel and hear your heart pounding in your chest so hard you would think it would explode. You had a nightmare about the last hunt you had just a night before, Your first vampire hunt. You were so confident that you had it, but you underestimated how quick and strong the bloodsucker was, and you could still feel the vampire's grip on your shoulders, its breath on your neck. So, close to getting what it wants. Luckily, Dean was there just in time to kill it and get you out of there.

You were so close to death, and that scared you more than anything. How life your life could have taken in a instant.

Quietly, you got out of bed and went down the hallway. You walked down a few doors and made your way outside Dean's door. Knocked on his door gently, seeing if by a good chance he would still be awake at this hour. A minute passes with no response and you open his door just to hear light snores and Dean deep asleep in his bed, his arm holding the pillow. You didn't want to be alone back in your room, so you quietly walked toward his bed. Lifted his cover carefully so he wouldn't wake up and slowly laid beside him with your back to him. Already feeling at ease from the nightmare you just had, you closed your eyes inviting darkness to take you once more. Just to feel an arm wrap around your waist pulling you towards them.

"Did you have a nightmare?" You could feel your heart jump as Dean's gruff voice rang out, cutting the silence in the room. You turned in his arms and could see his eyes sleepily open and looking straight at you.

You nod your head, "Yeah, I just don't want to be alone right now." He let out a hum and pulled you closer to him. "I'm here now, and I will always protect you," He said before closing his eyes again and falling into deep sleep again.

You stayed where you were for a moment, watching the green-eyed hunter sleep. You could feel yourself smile while watching him sleep peacefully. You finally turn around, your back facing him. His arm is still wrapped around your waist, and you close your eyes. Thinking all about the good moments you had with Dean.

Let's just say, that sleep. Was the best in your life.

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