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#supernatural dean winchester x reader smut
hauntedwitch04 · 3 days
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Hero
Dean Winchester x reader
Words: about 1.6k words
Warnings: smut, possessive!Dean, swearing, kinda voyeurism, male reciving, not proofreaded
Author’s note: Hi loves! New day new kink, tbt not my best work but I hope you like it, your witch Becky
Requests are open I Ask
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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023
DAY 12: Tit-fucking
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Dean had seen Hell, but no torture could match this moment for him.
You went out as usual to celebrate yet another hunt that saw you return home victorious to some seedy bar nearby. None of you, Dean, and Sam had dressed up for the occasion, indeed looking like an ordinary Friday night, but for certain the elder Winchester knew he was going to have quite a bit of trouble when he saw you leave the room a few hours earlier. You were wearing a simple tank top under the usual shirt that is now in common use among hunters, almost in recognition of each other, but that 'outfit so unreasoned was capable of making poor Dean take trips far beyond the pure and chaste thoughts a friend should have about you.
Sam is sitting at the bar sipping his beer while talking to a very pretty girl; you, on the other hand, probably caught up in the alcohol a bit, are having a good time, dancing along with a couple of girls you met earlier while getting drinks, and Dean can't help but stand there watching you ecstatically. Hunter watches you move your body to the music, as your form brushes against the bodies of the other girls, and he can't help but think if it wasn't his body that yours is moving next to.
He dreamed of being able to touch your breasts, caress them and love them, before starting to bite and suck them so as to leave obvious marks, and let everyone see that they were only his, that you were only his; he dreamed of seeing your tits jump at the same rhythm with which he would fuck you, hard and mercilessly; he dreamed of falling asleep on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, and of finding you there when he would wake up because of yet another nightmare.
Too lost in the far corners of his mind, imagining you under him while he tortures your nipples with his mouth, he does not notice that you are approaching him quickly and with fear in your eyes.
As soon as you touch his arm, with a gentle touch, he awakens from that daydream and stares at you, not understanding this sudden change of emotions on your part.
"Hold your ground." She whispers in his ear, before changing expression again and smiling at him with a sweetness that Dean feels melt over the chair in that provincial bar as if he were standing before the goddess of beauty herself.
"Love I finally found you! I couldn't see you anymore and I got worried, luckily this gentleman accompanied me." You say in a squeaky voice, as you point to the man just behind you, who looks at you as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat, who lays his gaze on the hunter once you tighten around his arm with a look mixed between anger and resignation, ready to move on to the next victim.
Dean immediately understands the situation and feels a sudden rage invade his body, in the need to protect you and affirm to the other man that you are not merely a doll good for satisfying his desires, but that you are his to preserve and love, even if the contact of your chest with his arm is enough to short-circuit his brain for a few seconds.
He feels your breasts against his elbow, your skins touching, and for a moment he is sure he would have come in his pants if it were not for the threat in front of you.
"Good thing he was there baby, I was starting to worry." Dean says as he gets up from where he's sitting and moves his arm that you're holding tightly, behind you, to hold you against his chest, to make you feel safer even though selfishly he can't complain about feeling your chest pressed against his. He knows perfectly well that if he looked into your eyes, he would see everything he wants from your cleavage, but after all, he is still a gentleman and this is not the time.
"Well buddy, since I'm so nice to bring your lady back to you, you might thank me by letting me take a ride with her, don't be-" The man begins to say with a grin on his face, before being interrupted by Dean's fist making contact with your face. You look shocked at the hunter, who in response holds you even tighter to him, while gesturing to his brother that he would take you out, or rather to the motel, since Sam was more than busy minding his own business anyway.
Once outside you find yourself in the parking lot, get into the car and start driving. You stand silently beside the man watching him grip the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. At some point without explanation Dean pulls over and gets out of the car, walking over to the first tree and starts punching it. You immediately get out and stand between him and the poor unfortunate object on whom the hunter has decided to unload his anger by grabbing his wrists.
"Hey, it's okay, you can relax now." You whisper, trying to reassure Dean, who shakes his head.
"You don't know how much willpower I'm using right now not to drive the car back and hit that son of a bitch so hard that I would send him straight to Crowley with a one-way ticket." He comments, as he closes his eyes and prays to any listening deity to give him the strength not to kiss you right now, and ruin your whole friendship.
"Hey I know, but we're here now, he's not our problem anymore." You retort, wrapping your arms around his waist, trying to appease his ire with a hug, but he jumps back at feeling your chest make contact with his again, knowing you would surely feel his erection pressing against your belly.
"I can't even touch you now? What is it with you that that man touched me?" You ask shocked, as you see him shaking his head vehemently.
"No, it's not that. It's just that if you touch me-" He pauses for a moment, to swallow and look you in the eye, and then within a second blow all plans not to ruin your friendship and pounce on your lips like a hungry man. You let him take full control of the kiss, letting you press against the tree as his lips from yours move down your neck, to your shoulder. "-I don't know if I can control myself." He finishes, returning to look into your eyes.
"Who said I want you to control yourself?" You counter, only to kiss him in turn, then kneel before him, unfastening his pants.
"Baby, we can't here, someone might see us." He comments, as he watches you lower his boxers and take his member, already stiff, in your hands before leaving a couple of kisses on the tip.
"Then we'd better hurry up." You retort, winking at him as you begin to move your hand back and forth on his cock, eliciting moans of pleasure from him. You continue this for a few minutes, until you are satisfied with your work, and you lower your tank top slightly so that your breasts come out.
Dean's eyes widen as he sees you rest his member between your breasts and for a moment that this is yet another beautiful dream from which he will wake up as usual with the most painful erection of his life. Instead he feels the soft skin of your chest in contact with that of his member and realizes that it is all real, in fact for a moment it feels like he is going to orgasm right away as he tries to hold back. You squeeze his member between your breasts and he begins to move back and forth creating a friction that Dean would not know whether to describe as hellish or angelic.
After a few minutes managing to find some sort of inner balance to avoid coming right away, Dean finally opens his eyes, to see you looking at him with a satisfied smirk as your hands resting on your breasts squeeze them, causing him to curse.
"Baby, you're going to kill me like this. How did you know my greatest weakness?" He comments, gritting his teeth as he hears you giggle.
"You were never very good at hiding that you were looking at my tits Dean, and this seems to me the best way to thank you for always being my hero in shining armor." You respond as you feel him coming closer and closer to orgasm, so you squeeze his cock even tighter between your tits and increase the speed until he comes releasing all his seed onto your breasts. You stay still for a moment, until you bring a finger to catch some of the cum that was on your chest, and bring it to your mouth, to taste it. Dean that sight almost picks you up, leading you back to the car, opening, however, not the driver's door, but the back seat.
"But how, I thought someone would see us here?" You tease him as he throws you on the seat, and he lies on top of you, kissing you fiercely.
"Let them watch, what is certain is that I will not spend another second of my life without knowing how you groan my name as I fuck you so hard that you forget yours as well."
What can I say, this night certainly promises to be fun.
TAGLIST
@river-rat69 @ladysparkles78 @samanddeansannoyingsis @ash04w3 @l3viathanpup @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @that1nerd20 @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @hi-my-name-is-riley @shodowbane09 @supernatural-lvr @imaraccoon @shhdontlookk @justawinchesterwhore @deansbbyx @xbugsyx @newtdumbledoorstarksoot @afcnds @biahz1
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waynes-multiverse · 3 days
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Plastic Hearts – Part 23
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Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader
Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.
Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak
Word Count: 5.7k
A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂
<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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23. Every Breath You Take
“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.
“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.
“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.
“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”
“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”
Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.
He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.
“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.
Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”
Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”
“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.
“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.
But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.
Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”
“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.
Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?
“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.
Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”
“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.
“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.
But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”
Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”
Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.
“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.
Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”
Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.
Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”
“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.
Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?
He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.
“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.
Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.
“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.
Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”
Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.
And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he’d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?
But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.
However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.
But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.
Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.
“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”
“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.
He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.
Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.
Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.
Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.
“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”
Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.
“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”
See? Wine.
“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.
“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”
“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.
“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.
“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.
There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.
Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.
And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.
On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.
“Dean, please…”
That was the fourth – like clockwork.
Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.
Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.
“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”
“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”
“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.
“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.
“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”
But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.
She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”
“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.
Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.
But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?
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With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.
She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.
He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.
All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.
However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.
Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.
Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.
But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.
“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.
“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.
Oh.
“Uh…”
Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.
The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.
“Dean? Dean!”
Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.
He does know how to make an entrance.
Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”
“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”
“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”
“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”
“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.
The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”
With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.
“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.
“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.
“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”
“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”
Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”
As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.
“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.
Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.
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“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.
“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”
“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.
“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.
Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.
“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.
Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.
“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.
“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”
Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.
“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.
“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”
At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.
“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.
Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”
Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”
“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”
Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.
“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.
“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.
“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.
Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”
“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”
Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”
“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”
Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.
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Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.
Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.
“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”
“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.
“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”
“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.
Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.
“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”
“Yeah, I get it…”
Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.
But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.
And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.
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“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.
“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”
“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”
“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”
Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”
“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”
“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.
Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.
“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.
With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”
“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”
“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.
“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.
“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”
“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.
“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.
“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.
“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”
“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.
“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”
Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.
“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.
“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”
Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.
“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.
Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.
“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”
Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”
Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”
It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.
“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.
“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”
“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.
Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.
“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.
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24. Don't Dream It's Over – May 4
Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔 But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉
TAGS:
Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey
@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies
@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444
@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus
Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi
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bunnysbrainrot · 8 hours
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A Lesson in Manners
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Relationship: Dean Winchester x f!Reader
Content: Romantic tension, protective Dean, alcohol consumption, a weird guy ft. the way Dean handles it.
Summary: After a long, exhausting day of hunting, Team Free Will unwinds with drinks at a nearby bar. You're enjoying your time until a stranger decides to pester you, but that won't go unnoticed by Dean.
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The signature purr of the Impala faded as Dean turned off the ignition, releasing a heavy sigh, a defeated and tired noise. Whatever nasties they have down here in Georgia have been difficult. All signs in this case were pointing to a djinn, but without getting in closer, there was no way to be completely sure.
That risk was left to Sam and Dean, as they had told you yesterday, when the research finally fell into place.
Sam's lips pressed into a thin line as he stared at his laptop screen, his brows twitching. He deadpanned and looked to his brother, "Djinn. How the hell didn't we think of that yet?"
Dean matched Sam's frustration with a scoff. He simply shook his head.
Djinn were unfamiliar to you still. Though you had done a fair bit of research, helpfully guided by Sam, and learned quite a lot. But, you also knew that research and experience were very, very different for a hunter.
"Awesome, so... what?" Dean inquired, raising a brow at Sam. You sat in the small armchair in the boys' motel room, looking between them. "We gonna go into blood-sucking paradise-dream-world again?"
Sam flashed a quick smile, "Let's just hope it doesn't come to that. Do we have any more lamb's blood?"
Dean's expression changed to annoyance, "Not after that dickbag Balthazar used it for that stupid parallel-universe crap." He crossed his arms over his chest and threw his head back in thought. "And where are we supposed to get it, anyway? We're in the middle of friggin' nowhere."
"Cas?"
"If we could even get a hold of him."
"I'm sure he's still listening, Dean. I know he's been here and there for a while, but-" Sam explained.
Whirling to face his brother, Dean countered, "'Here and there'? Sam, we basically wait three to five business days for him to give us anything. If he's so focused on Heaven right now, let him stay up there."
You had seen Dean's rising upset with his friend for a few weeks now, seeing the angel's presence less and less. Castiel didn't indulge any details, and kept recollections vague - but, the lack of transparency had been taking a toll on the group.
He’d been absent for two weeks now. Nothing.
Dean's lengthy sigh showed his stress. He brought a hand up to his brow; Sam rolled his head to stretch his neck in the passenger seat.
"I need a fuckin' beer," Dean breathed.
You laid a hand on his shoulder from the seat directly behind his - Sam was more conversational on long drives, so sitting on the left side gave good distraction in the long hours on the road. Dean craned his neck to you, looking to you expectantly.
Because as much as he didn't like to admit it, Dean craved the moments when you touched him.
You couldn’t tell if you spooked him, judging by the way Dean froze in his seat, eyes boring directly into yours. A grin spread across your face, "Let's get shitfaced."
Dean shook his head and pointed to you, "You don't wanna get to shitfaced level with me, sweetheart. Just a few beers. Plus, I’ve seen you get tipsy even after one."
Each of you started stepped out of the Impala, respectively stretching your achy legs, or arms, or backs or neck and everything else. No matter the hunt, the soreness remained the same. You released a groan as you lean backward, flexing your stiffened spine. Dean neared and landed a gentle pat between your shoulders to get you moving along.
You noticed how quickly Dean pushed ahead to open the front door, before you had the chance to lift a finger. He looked into the cracked door - an assessing glaze cast over his eyes. Always on the lookout for danger.
Who could keep you safer than Dean Winchester?
After all of his impressive feats so far, it’d be hard for someone not to admire Dean. Saving the world was easier on the drawing board, and with having been to hell and back, you couldn’t fathom the willpower he gained to push past it. Not a semblance of that traumatic experience showed in that handsome, stoic face.
Dean pressed the door ajar to make way for you and Sam. You scanned the tables and stools at the bar; patrons scattered around in clusters, each chattering and laughing amongst themselves.
The thick smell of liquor filled the air. You noticed the hints of whiskey, oddly reminding you of Dean, and the way that scent mixed with his cologne. You memorized that smell from his occasional hugs, or times where you’d sit together, and you’d wondered if he could hear your heart hammering in your chest.
Sam led the way toward a taller table in the corner of the joint, settling in a stool closest to the back emergency exit. You eyed the stool at the outer side, but a creeping feeling dawns on you - someone is staring. Settling into your stool, you took the chance to swivel around, looking for the source of that persistent feeling.
At the bar, a man with a scruffy beard had his eyes trained on yours, roving over your form in the chair. You exhaled, fighting back the feeling of disgust, and turned back to Sam, plastering on a terse smile.
“What is it?” Sam asked, his brows furrowing in concern.
You paled slightly, the man’s stare still honed in on your back, “Dude at the bar has a staring problem.”
Sam leaned casually to reach for his pocket, craning his head for a swift second. A glint in his eye told you he’d found the perpetrator. Footsteps approached from behind - a familiar pattern, one you’d heard every day, and without turning you’d known it was Dean. A careful brush of his hand between your shoulder blades eased you, a gentle reminder he was here.
“Bottoms up, buttercup,” Dean teased, placing a shot of amber liquor in front of you, himself, and then his brother.
Three lime wedges rested on a plate, along with a salt shaker. You glance at Dean with a ‘seriously?’ look, and he gave a signature Winchester grin. You did say you wanted to get shitfaced. And hell, it could help with that looming creep. You licked the back of your hand and sprinkled some salt.
“To figuring something out,” you proclaimed, raising the shot glass. The boys follow your lead before clinking them on the table, and tossing their heads back.
The tequila burns the back of your throat, but the lime helps you ignore it. Sam held a steady face while Dean grimaced at the burn.
You giggled softly, “Can’t handle tequila, Dean?”
He flashed a toothy grin, and a quick middle finger. Your giggle evolved into a bright laugh that drew one from Sam, too.
“Bet you couldn’t handle pool, though,” countered Dean.
Sam eyed you from the side and threw a knowing smirk. You’d never back down from a challenge, especially when it was Dean testing you. There was a desire to beat him at his own games, to show him you could match his skill and then some.
Then there was the chase of it - cycles of teasing comments and passing glances, but never a break in the tension.
Your voice lowers, “I’ll take you on any day, Winchester.”
The jest made Dean grin. The chase was on again.
Sam stayed behind when you and Dean claimed a vacant pool table, letting you set yourselves up for the perfect one-on-one.
Dean nodded to you and eyed the cue ball. You bend at the waist over the table, and felt the creeping feeling again. It radiated along your spine to the nape of your neck, as if your body was set ablaze under the stranger’s stare.
Until suddenly, you had company.
“Say, think you could spare me a game when you’re done, beautiful?”
The voice matched the face. It was nasally with a copious amount of douchery; another entitled asshole who got involved when he wasn’t wanted.
Across the table, Dean’s brow twitched.
“Listen bud, we’re just getting started here. Plenty of other folks in here who can play you,” the edge in Dean’s tone was a warning in and of itself.
You hitched a breath awaiting the man’s reaction.
Out of the corner of your eye you spotted Sam sliding off his barstool, slowly making his way closer to your pool table. He idly looked at his phone, but kept a watchful glance.
“I’m sure you’ll have the time for another one, right, baby?” The stranger’s words slurred stupidly. He didn’t address Dean with meeting his stare, and instead fought to have yours. He closed the gap between you two further - the smell of alcohol lingered on him, thick and nauseating.
You bark, “You’ve got ten seconds.”
“Oh…. hic… ten seconds ain’t enough for me, sweetheart..”
Dean’s voice was taunting, probably trying to pull the dickbag away from you, “It’s plenty for us.”
Finally, the man looked to Dean, straightening his posture at the height difference. He was lean, but couldn’t hold a firm stance, by the looks of it. The man scanned Dean top to bottom before turning back to you.
Before crossing a crucial line.
A foreign hand stroked your spine, making you recoil. Anger contorted your features as you warned him yourself.
“Try that again, fucker,” you spat with disgust. You could still feel the touch on your back. Gross.
The man’s lips tug into a smile, and the anger continued to brew. Of course, you were not the only one with that bubbling rage. Dean has closed the distance before you could register he’d moved at all.
Dean loomed over the man with a haunting glare. To add fuel to the fire, the man had the gall to grin at the threat, raising his hands to Dean’s chest.
“Come on, jus’ gavin’ a lil’ fun,” said the stranger.
In one swift motion, Dean collected the man’s wrists with one hand, and delivered a hook with the other.
The blow knocked his head to the side. Other patrons turned to the scene unfolding - some turned back to their drinks, some kept staring. You gasped when Dean landed another strike, sending the man tumbling to the floor with a resounding thud.
“Dean, that’s enough, he’s-“
He didn’t react to your objection.
Behind the commotion, Sam’s eyes widen with shock, though he smiles with satisfaction at the takedown.
A final shove put enough distance between you and the pathetic drunk. You turned to see the bartender giving Dean a stern look, but they return to filling a pint glass.
You panted softly while the stranger walked away, bracing his bloodied chin with his hand. You looked to Dean and found his attention back at the pool table, letting out a frustrated grunt. There wasn’t a way to thank him. No need. The man had made great strides in protecting you, enough to reassure that you didn’t have to offer thanks. It came naturally, protecting one another.
Sam made his way back to the table and returned to his stool, shaking his head in disbelief, a smile on his face.
What a night, right?
It was Dean’s voice that brought you back to your senses. That same voice that calmed you, that ignited your body to its core.
“Alright, sweetheart, you go first.”
——
“Dammit, whathefuck- that isn’t fair-“ you protested. You’d lost, but kept trying to knock the striped pool balls into the pockets, insisting that there was some sort of rule to let you go until you were fully done, including the cue ball.
Sam handed you a glass of water, which you sipped on immediately. Your fingertips slowly grew numb against the cold glass.
Dean chortled as he collected the pool balls, “Shitfaced and pool don’t mix well, do they?”
You let out a tipsy laugh and shake your head at him. The moment stilled, where the rest of the scene faded away. Dean scanned you over, and held a too-long look. A small spark lit behind his eyes.
“Let’s getcha home.”
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Thank you for reading! I liked this idea, and I think it could easily have a second part. Vote in the poll or me know in the comments if you’d like to see where this goes!
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am3ricanpsycho420 · 10 hours
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the things i’d let him do to me are insane
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take-it-on-the-run · 18 hours
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The need to write a Dean jealousy angst time skip consequence fic is gnawing at every fiber of my being
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The Most Innocent Sinner
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Rating: 18+
Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk
Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo
A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!
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From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all. 
Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.
It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.
For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.
The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.
The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.
Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.
She didn’t want to hide anymore.
It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.
Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.
Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.
Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.
After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.
“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.
“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.
With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.
Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…
“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.
“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”
Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.
Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.
Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.
Ah shit. He was in love.
Him, in love?
It was the first time.
… Wait a minute.
He was in love with her.
This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.
Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.
This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.
And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.
“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.
SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.
“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.
It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.
In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.
Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.
And that was when he saw them.
There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.
Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...
Dean came across the largest box.
It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.
It couldn't be that big... right?
And oh my god.
“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”
Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...
Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.
“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.
“I love the view…”
Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.
It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.
"Oh. No."
The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.
Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.
“What is this?”
Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.
His question only made her more uncomfortable.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”
“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.
“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.
Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.
Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.
Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.
“I want you to watch me.”
“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.
“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.
Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.
“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”
“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”
Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...
Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.
It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…
Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.
“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.
“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.
Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.
“How do you want me to use it?” 
Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.
“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.
“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching. 
And he could see it all.
It was better than everything he could ever imagine.
The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.
“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.
“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.
Another groan whistled through his teeth.
“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”
He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.
His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.
“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”
As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."
"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."
"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”
It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good. 
In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.
It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.
Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.
“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.
“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.
“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”
“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.
“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”
“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”
“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?” 
Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.
A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.
“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”
Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”
Babum.
The words he never said back before.
Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
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fatecantstopme · 4 months
Text
Spell Bound
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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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wildgirllz · 1 year
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Your camera roll if you hunted with Sam and Dean.
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crushedbyhyperbole · 2 months
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Whiskey on the Tongue
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.
Words: 2.2k
A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.
It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.
I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.
Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.
*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***
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Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg.  It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.
The door to his room in the bunker was closed.  Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it.  You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book.  The very book that was in your hands right now.
“I need that book back, Dean.”  Sam grumbled.
“Not now, Sammy!”  Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.
“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean.  It’s important.”  Sam became more insistent.
“I said NOT NOW, SAM!”  Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.
Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away.  Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed.  Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee.  You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.
He was going to hell.  Straight there.  Do not pass go.  Do not collect two hundred dollars.  And he probably deserved it.
He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans.  If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room.  Bobby was always protective of you, his niece.  You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.
“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped.  Do you hear me, boy?”
Bobby Singer.  That man did not mince his words.  And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel.  Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.
You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg.  The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.
Dean decided he could die like this.  If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.
He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.
It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk.  You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells.  You said he quieted the noise in your head.  Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home.  You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way.  Not that slutty was bad.  Dean liked slutty.  But that wasn’t you, you were different.
A drink.  That’s what was missing.  Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.
He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions.  A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.
The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move.  Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.
“Where’s yours?”
The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.
“Don’t pout.”  You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.
Dean’s jaw went slack.  The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry.  He had never seen you like this.
You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside.  He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.
Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid.  You leaned in.
Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt.  You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way.  The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were.  His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.
He refused to lick where you had been.  He couldn’t.  As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…
“Don’t.”  He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.
You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt.  He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.
“Bobby…”  Was all he could say through his constricting throat.
You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”
Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain.  The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan.  He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.
His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled.  He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.
Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths.  He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them.  Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening.  Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this.  You had intended this from the beginning.
He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down.  Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.
Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy.  You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.
While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped.  You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time.  You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat.  You weren’t disappointed.
Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal.  Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other.  Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet.  Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare.  Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.
“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”
You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot.  Fuck, he was good with his tongue.  Everything about him was good except his image.  Bad boy Dean Winchester.  He was every woman’s wet dream.  He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen.  But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.
Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid.  Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.
Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot.  You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life.  He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm.  When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down.  He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while.  You were a beautiful mess.
“That’s my girl.”  He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself.  “Are you ready for me?”
You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.
From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it.  He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.
When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms.  It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you.  You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have.  Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this.  God, he hoped not.
Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips.  His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.
“Tell me what you need.”  He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.
“Just you, like this.”  You sighed.  Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.
His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it.  It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on.  He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.
You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you.  When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.
Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.
“Shot.”  You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.
He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said:  What can I say?  I don’t miss.
When you moved to sit, he stopped you.
“Here, lemme get that.”
“Thanks.”
He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs.  Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved.  Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest.  You were both content.  Both had goofy grins on your faces.  Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.
A loud knock at the door started you.
“Are you done?”  Sam said.  “I need that book.”
“NO!”  You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.
“Bobby’s gonna kill you.”  Sam called back through the door.
“I KNOW!”  Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.
There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again.  In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.
Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name.  Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.
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alexsoenomel · 3 months
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POV: Texts between You and Dean Winchester
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Bonus if you like Pedro Pascal:
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This is what happens when I can't sleep
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aesthetic-babyyy · 6 months
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Protective~ Dean Winchester imagine
Warnings// angst, fluff and cock blocking
Word count// 1400
(Gif from Pinterest)
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You Sam and Dean had just finished a pretty rough ghoul hunt, once you guys had all showered the remnants of the night, dean suggested you guys head out for a few drinks to celebrate, once you got to the bar Dean and you slide into a booth, deans arm wrapping around your shoulders pulling you into his side “you get the first round Sammy” Dean said smirking at his brother, Sam rolled his eyes “fine but you’re next” he said walking to the bar
“So how you feeling after you’re first ghoul sweetheart” you looked up at your boyfriend “well I’ve gotta say I won’t be chasing one for a very long time, much prefer a simple salt and burn” Dean chuckled kissing the side of your head, “alright beers are severed” Sam said sitting down with the drinks “thanks Sammy” you said taking a drink out the bottle
You and the guys were having a great time talking about passed hunts before you’d met them “he just looked at me all upset and said ‘I lost my shoe’ all because he lost the damn rabbits foot” Dean laughed finishing his second beer, “alright my round boys just another beer?”you questioned getting up “yeah thanks Y/N” Sam said “yeah me too thank you sweetheart” you hooded moving to the slightly crowded bar you quickly got the bar tenders attention “hi three beers please” the man nodded “that’ll be 12 bucks gorgeous” he said placing three beers in front of you, you nodded handing him a 20 dollar bill, the bar tender went to get your change leaving you standing for a few minutes
“what’s a beautiful girl like you doing at a place like this” a man grumbled out from one of the bar stools, he looked to be a drunk creep no younger than mid 50s “I’m here with my boyfriend and friend” you said back hoping he’d back off at the boyfriend comment “ah bet your boyfriend doesn’t treat you like I would” the man said moving closer to you “look buddy I’m not interested I’m in a relationship” he didn’t seem too happy with that “you better watch yourself you bitch I’m giving you a choice the only thing you should be saying is yes sir, because that’s the only damn thing you’ll be saying when I’m pounding you in front of your little boyfriend you slut!” he spat out, “is there a problem here miss?” The bartender asked returning with your change “no everything’s fine thanks” you said grabbing the change stuffing it in your pocket before taking the beers back to the winchesters
“Hey sweetheart everything good? You were gone a while” Dean said grabbing his beer and pulling you back to your place at his side “yeah fine just waiting for my change” you answered quietly, you could see the man from the bar staring at you his hand holding his glass tightly in his grasp as he wouldn’t break eye contact “I’m gonna head back to the motel after this one guys I’m pretty tired” you said feeling uncomfortable either the stares the man wa giving you, dean nodded “yeah I think we’ll all head out then, you good with that Sam?” Dean questioned, Sam nodded
Once you guys finished your drinks you made your way to the exit, from the corner of your eye you seen the man get up, following your trail to the exit, starting to feel scared you grabbed deans hand tight, Dean turned to look at you concerned “you okay Y/N? You hands really sweaty” you nodded to answer him too nervous to even speak, you thought the night air would make you feel better but knowing the man was following behind was just making your feel sick, before you could get into baby dean stopping you, both hands on your arms as he looked at you “sweetheart my job is lying for a living, I know somethings bothering you and I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what it is” Dean asked alerting Sam “what’s going on?”
Sighing you looked behind the brothers to find the man staring at you from behind a car “there was a guy at the bar, he freaked me out a little bit I didn’t care too much until he sat staring at me for the last hour so I wanted to leave but he followed us out here” you said, your heart pounding in your chest, Dean got an angry look on his face as he turned searching the parking lot “where the hell is he!” Dean moved to look around finding him quickly, Dean stormed over “hey! The hell do you want jackass? You think you can harass my girlfriend I wouldn’t find out” Dean grabbed the man by his shirt “not my fault she’s a whore man, just wanted a little taste of her sweet p-”Dean didn’t let him finish his sentence before he was released punching him in the face “my nose!” The man yelped but dean wasn’t done yet, Sam was holding you in a hug blocking the fight from your eyes
Once dean was done teaching the man a lesson in how to respect women he walked back over to you and sam “alright he’s down, let’s get back to the motel” Dean said getting in the drivers seat. Once you guys made it back to the motel you followed the brothers back to the room, Sam went into the bathroom leaving you and Dean alone
sighing dean sat on the bed you two would be sharing, he started to wrap his bloody knuckles you let out a shaky breath before sitting beside him and taking his hand “I got it” you said taking out the rubbing alcohol and rubbing it on his wounds, Dean flinched slightly at the sting “why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He asked softly you looked up giving him a small smile “I just didn’t want to bother you, I just didn’t realise how big a creep the guy was till he followed us out” dean nodded “sweetheart if someone or something is ever bothering you I don’t give a rats ass how by or small, you tell me and I will take care of it” you nodded “yeah I will I’m sorry dean” Dean was shaking his head “you have nothing to be sorry for Y/N you did nothing wrong” you wrapped your arms around deans shoulders pulling him to a hug, we wrapped his own around your waist holding you close to him
You pulled away to give him a small kiss, however a small kiss with Dean was never really just a small kiss, this one being no different as Dean was swiping his to tongue along your bottom lip, you parted your lips allowing dean to explore your mouth, you moaned quietly when dean pushed you slightly to lay back on the bed as he moved to lean on top of you as you continued to make out, deans hand was tugging at the hem of your shirt, and just when you were about to take it off the bathroom door opened, the younger Winchester emerged in his pyjama pants and shirt “seriously!” He yelped turning away
Dean sighed moving to stand up “relax Sammy were decent” you chuckled as you moved to get up and get changed in the bathroom, Dean following close behind “seriously don’t guys I don’t want a repeat of the hunt back in Chicago” you giggled “I promise Sammy we’ll keep it PG” you and Dean changed into your sleepwear, Dean sporting the same as sam, minus the shirt, he found them to be annoying when it got too hot in bed, you in a pair of shorts and deans old led zeppelin shirt
When you both emerged from the bathroom Sam was already tucked in for the night, all lights off minus the one in the bathroom, you and Dean made your way to the bed getting in either side Dean quickly grabbed your waist tugging you close enough so you could rest your head on his bare chest and tangle your legs together “we’re definitely getting our own room next hunt” Dean whispered kissing the top of your head, you chuckled at his remark closing your eyes “whatever you say Winchester”
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Hi there!
just a short little Dean Winchester imagine to fill the void
Thanks for reading!
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hauntedwitch04 · 7 months
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KINKTOBER
Hi! Here is my kinktober masterlist, it's my first time trying to do this trend, so I hope you like my writing. I'll later post a question for you all to anwer, to see who you want the last one about. Hope you like it. I'll try my best <;33
Requests are open I Ask
My masterlist
Join the Taglist
Buy me a coffee - Patreon submission
SPECIAL KINKTOBER TAGLIST
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Hate sex with Regulus Black 
Dirty talk with Dean Winchester 
Sex pollen  with Azriel  
Daddy kink with Steve Harrington 
Body worship with Rhysand 
 Size kink with Sam Winchester 
 Orgasm denial with James Potter 
 Public sex with Nyx Acheron
 Somnophilia with Regulus Black 
 Thigh-riding with Cassian
 Breeding with Remus Lupin 
 Tit-fucking with Dean Winchester  
 Caught masturbation with Steve Harrington 
 Innocent with Remus Lupin
 Brat taming with Eris Vanserra 
 Toys with Sirius Black 
 Mommy kink with Nesta Acheron 
 Lingerie with  Rhysand 
Overstimulation with James Potter 
Face sitting with Sam Winchester 
Praise kink with Sirius Black 
Corruption with Priest!Sam Winchester 
Shadow play with Azriel 
Spanking with Remus Lupin 
Car sex with Dean Winchester 
Threesome with Nesta Acheron and Cassian 
Omegaverse with Dean Winchester
Cockwarming with Eris Vanserra
Phone sex with Sam Winchester 
Bondage with Azriel 
Roleplay with REGULUS BLACK (chosen by you)
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supernaturalistthings · 2 months
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Roadhouse
Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18 contains smut
Summary: You have had feelings for Dean Winchester for a while and never thought you guys would be more than friends but on a case Dean's jealousy gets the best of him and the truth comes out.
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You set your takeout box on the desk and sigh, putting a hand to your head to rub between your eyebrows looking for some kind of stress relief. Detective Bass eyes you and sets his takeout box on the table separating the two of you and leans in, setting one of his hands on the table. His gaze is intense and it puzzles you further.
“We will figure this out” he finally says
He was partially correct, he just had the wrong “We”. You and Dean would figure this out, you had been on this case for two days now and still hadn't pinpointed what exactly was attacking the women in this town. You were utterly exhausted, this cheap pencil skirt keeps riding up, the fluorescent lighting is giving you a headache, and the autopsy results are starting to blur.
“Hey you want to turn in” he says, reaching around the table to rest his hand on your thigh. Don't get it twisted, Detectives Bass’s sharp features, dark hair, and lean build could make any woman's head turn however you have had a certain hunter on your mind and had for a while now. As if on cue you hear a familiar voice say
“Hope i'm not interrupting” Bass’s hand flinches back as Dean stands in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. 
He tensely walks forwards and takes a seat on your side of the table. Straightening his suit out as he does. He sends a look laced with daggers into your profile and you tense. You know he's as annoyed about this case as you were and try to let it go.
“You're not, we were just finishing up actually” You reply. You stand up and start to gather the files on the table when you look over. Dean's eyes aren't on you but on the detective across the table, His jaw is locked and his hand is clenched in a fist so hard that his knuckles are turning white. You turn your attention back to the papers and then look up and make direct eye contact with the detective. He was looking directly at you with his hand running over his bottom lip and chin, if you didn't know better you'd say that was lust in his eyes.
“Well it's been a pleasure working with you tonight Agent Seager…” he says referring to you, “... it's just been wonderful” He reaches a hand out intended for you to take, and you do. You shake his hand and he looks so deeply into your eyes, he might be able to see through you.
The silence is interrupted by Dean clearing his throat and standing and reaching his hand out to shake the detective's “Pleasures all mine” their hand meets and the tension is palpable. Dean is intense right now and it makes Bass shift on his feet. Your confusion was probably written on your face. Dean drops his hand but not his gaze and you put your hand on his upper arm to break the match. Dean looks at you annoyed, rolls his eyes and starts making his way towards the door with you following behind. You try to match his pace as you two hastily head toward the exit.
The big exit doors open and as soon as they do Dean turns back and without saying anything grabs your hand and starts literally walking you to the car. You're struggling to keep his pace and your mind is racing at his touch, but also his demeanor and why it is the way it is. You both come upon the car. You open the door and get in and slam it behind you, fueled by Dean's attitude. He does the same and you finally cut the tension as the engine roars to life and he pulls out of the parking lot.
“What is your issue?” You say snarkily
He says nothing and stares at the road ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
“Whatever” you say after realizing from the length of his silence that he had no intention of answering your question. You sit and contemplate what you could've done to annoy him so much and anticipate seeing the motel come into vision. But it doesn't. A run down roadhouse does. Probably even the gnarliest bikers wouldn't even touch this place yet, here we are. You snap your head in his direction the second he parks and say
“What in the actual hell are we doing here?” He rolls his eyes and looks over in your direction in one swift motion. He looks down your entire body and back up again to meet your eyes. This isn't unusual. You have caught him doing it before but never so blatantly and certainly not while harboring such annoyance for you, or what you thought was annoyance. You had always wondered if it meant anything to Dean the way you hoped it had.
It was hard to care that he was annoyed with you when he looks as stunning as he does. His tie is now loose, his jaw is sharp, his hair is slightly tousled from running hand through it occasionally on the drive to the roadhouse. It was possible you were also giving him a subconscious once over and he must have noticed. He smirks and his eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes.
“I'll forget you let Detective Bass have the pleasure of undressing you with his eyes if you join me for a drink” he says still smirking and with a bluntness that stirs something inside of you but you're quick to retort 
“I didn-”
“Yes or no..” he says interrupting and without breaking eye contact, still smirking.
Your mind is racing with all the possibilities right now, swimming with all the endless ways this night could unfold. All you can say is
“Yes” with that he grins a jackpot smile and opens his door to get out you're too stunned to move when your door opening breaks you from your thoughts. You turn and see Dean's hand stretched out for you to take. You follow your eyes up and meet his green ones and they're a shade that you've never noticed before with an apparent sparkle. You take his hand and allow him to lift you out of the seat of the impala. He shuts the door behind and you and you take one last glance at each other before you both head hand in hand into the rundown roadhouse.
He opens the door for you and and you're confronted with a loudly playing “Night Moves’ by Bob Seager, rainbow strobe lights and the smell of cheap beer and cigarettes. You look over at Dean with a look that says really? and he says 
“Oh cmon, give it a chance” and with that he takes his hand that was previously holding yours and grabs your waist and pulls you to him. You're tucked firmly into his side and he walks the both of you over to the bar and orders a beer, a shot of whiskey for himself and a tequila cran for you. Your favorite, he noticed.
The first round comes and goes and so does a second and half of the third before you need a bathroom. You wait for Dean to finish a genuinely engaging story, all of them have been you love just talking and getting to know him without the thought of the world's doom on your shoulders. Right now it feels like only you two matter and every word that spills from his beautiful lips fuels this. You say you'll be right back and he smiles as you silently slightly struggle to lift yourself off the seat, It felt like you had been on for way too long.
You make your way to the bathroom and open it up and find it's not as gross as you were expecting. Shocked and pleased, you head to the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is slightly disheveled from running your hands through it while talking with Dean, your dress shirt had opened an extra button and your skirt was becoming a little too short. You looked kinda hot in a messy sort of way but you decided to straighten yourself out and splash some water on your face to hopefully offset the alcohol coursing through your system at the moment.
You rest your hands on either side of the sink and try to compose yourself with use of your reflection when the door you thought you locked behind you opens and shuts. You quickly turn around to face the intruder and are met with Dean. He's staring at you in a way that takes your breath away and urge to curse him out for barging in. He looks at you the way you've always wanted him to look at you. He’s breathless himself when he slowly reaches his hand behind him to turn the lock on the door.
His eyes don't leave yours. He takes a few steps forward until you can feel each other's breath fanning over each other's cheeks. You can't think of anything else other than the hue of his green eyes, the few freckles he has, and how kissable his lips look.
“You drive me crazy… and you have for a while now” he says as he lifts his hand to brush some hair from the sides of your face.
“What-” you say, feeling like you're gasping for air.
“I can't see you with anyone else… ever'' there's a brief silence and then he tilts his head and whispers against your neck  “i adore you… you have no idea what you do to me..” his hands slowly and tenderly grasp your waist and you’re having trouble deciphering if this is actually happening or if that third tequila cran has you hallucinating on the sidewalk somewhere. All you know is his hands feel really real on your waist and his breath on your neck travels all the way down to where you want him most, that also feels very real.
“Say anything..please… I'll take anything right now…” He pulls back without taking his hands away from your waist, thankfully, the feeling is electrifying. His face has a tinge of worry of doubt and you can't stand it.
“I feel the same…” You say taking the sides of his face into your hands. You watch as the doubt is erased from his face and that jackpot Dean Winchester grin creeps its way onto his face once again.
“...I have for a while now” you say with your own grin. Proud of stealing his line and finally admitting your feelings to the man you adore. He leans in, sealing your lips and in this moment it feels fate. His hands move from your waist to the sides of your face as if he can't possibly get enough of you. The kiss is passionate, tender, everything you both ever wanted. Your hands ignite wildfires across each other's bodies as you explore and feel what you had both wanted more than anything for a long time now.
He places his hands on the sink behind you, caging you in and breaks the kiss to look down and steady himself. He feels ravenous right now and it's taking everything in him to not rip your clothes off and take you right here. You're not making it any easier as that is exactly what you want right now, it's exactly what you need. He looks up with his mesmerizing green eyes and says
“You have no idea how bad I want you right now...”
“Nothings stopping you...” you say in a whisper hovered against his lips while you regather the sides of his face into your hands. He kisses you again but this time with no sign of an end or hesitation. You pull his tie with both hands until it's undone and throw it to the floor. The kiss is feverish and intense. You love the feeling of him and he feels the same.
You start to undo the many buttons on his dress shirt and he starts to do the same to you almost as if in a race. You fling it off his shoulders and pull it down his strong arms. You help him slide yours down your shoulders and sneak a quick glance as it falls to the floor. You're both panting, desperate for air but even more desperate for each other. He carefully moves his hand over your breasts through your bra and just like that you're a moaning mess. 
“I want to see you… all of you” he says as he puts his hands back to your waist and turns you so you're facing the mirror. He unclasps your bra while standing behind you and slides the straps off your shoulders and as you watch as it falls off your frame onto the floor. He's kissing your neck and has his hand on the other side. His free hand is trailing its way from your nipple, to your stomach, to the ends of your now very ridden up pencil skirt.
He pulls it up all the way to your stomach and starts rubbing you through your panties. Soft circles to match the soft wet kisses all over your neck, the other hand moves down your chest and cups your breast and massages. His touch is euphoric and all you want is him. You can feel that all he wants is you from his hardness pressed onto your backside.
“You'll never want another man after what I'm going to do to you… I can promise you that sweetheart…” he whispers against your neck, while continuing to place soft hypnotic kisses, and rub circles over your clothed clit. You can see yourself unraveling through what glimpses you can catch in the mirror. You're rested against his toned chest with your head thrown back and eyes screwed shut moaning and gasping out Dean's name. He has just found his new favorite song.
When he pulls away, you snap your head to look in the mirror just to catch his devious eyes before he turns you once again to face him. He leans down and simultaneously reconnects your lips and lifts you so you're resting on the edge of the sink. His hands are on your thighs and he's standing between them. You guys are kissing all over each other. It's heavenly. You're both grinding against each other and you start to undo his pants and tug them down. He helps and pulls them the rest of the way down.
He's already hard and he's big. Bigger than you'd ever had. You take him into your hands and start pumping him eliciting a string of moans and grunts that only fuels you more. He’s wanted this for so long and it was about to happen. He takes himself from you and looks at you with a question, are you sure? You nod wanting nothing more. He smiles and kisses you again. He hooks a single finger around your panties and moves them to the side. He slides himself along your slick folds, relishing the feeling.
He slightly pushes the tip in and moves in and out slowly giving you time to adjust. He's panting and gasping at the tightness. You're grasping at his shoulders and loving the sensation. He pushes in further and you're singing his name in praise. He starts to move and then moves feverishly. You both have wanted this for so long you can't get enough. Youre hand are running everywhere over eachothers bodies and hes holding you in his strong arms as he fucks you. You can feel yourself unraveling and judging by the slight sloppiness of his thrusts, he's almost there as well. You tighten around him and cum which seems to set him over the edge and the next thing you feel is him spilling out of you. 
You're both a mess and simultaneously rest your heads on each other's shoulders trying to catch your breath.
“That was-”
“Amazing” he cuts you off and picks himself off your shoulder still breathless and gives you a quick kiss. Neither of you move, unsure if you ever wanted to leave this bathroom, this moment. You just stay in eachothers eyes for a bit.
“We should get going” you say with a smile crossing your arms around his neck
“So eager for round two?” he replies with that signature smirk grabbing your waist and pulling you off the sink to stand. He holds you there.
“If that's what it takes to get us out of this place faster than absolutely” you say with a laugh and it earns one from him as well. You both redress yourselves, helping each other along the way. You’re both smiling and giddy and it's just comfortable.
You both go to walk hand and hand out of the roadhouse bathroom and as soon as the door opens you're both greeted with an embarrassingly long line of skeevy bar patrons, all shooting daggered stares you and Dean's way. 
“Worth it” he says while looking at you, dare you say lovingly.
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samsno1 · 4 months
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Celebrating
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
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hi, heres what i promised to the dean girls! i don't know what to say, this is long and i don't know if the smut is good enough, might edit later, also, dean in this red jacket is my favorite
Summary: It had been a while since you got some and at night of celebrating a successful hunt you expected to finally, after a long time, get laid
Warnings: SMUT, piv, unprotected sex (wrap it up), finger sucking, jealousy (? if you squint), oral f. recieving, fingering, dean is so in love ohmygod, english is not my first language, not proof read (if i forgot anything let me know)
Read it on AO3
WC: 4.7k
You can learn how to change Y/N for your actual name here
enjoy!
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It was difficult for you to find anyone willing to spend the night with you in the current settings of your life, having to lie about what you do, who you are…Basically create a whole new personality just to be able to bring someone to your motel room. In that sense, it was frustrating, both sexually and mentally to be put in this scenery but, either way, saving lives was more important than getting laid, even if you were thoroughly stressed beyond comparison by your inability to find a guy (or girl). 
You, Sam and Dean had gone to California for what you discovered, after great questioning and piles of research, was a simple salt ‘n burn of a poor ghost of a roadkill and was haunting that particular highway and crashing trucks of drivers who were mildly intoxicated behind the wheel.
After finding out where the bones were buried you went to the cemetery and started digging up the grave. Shovel after shovel of dirt fell behind you while you panted in exhaustion until you hit something hard at the bottom of the hole you dug up.
You harshly broke the wooden casket, revealing the remains of the ghost and a putrid smell hit your nose like everytime it happened when you had a salt ‘n burn. You scrunched up your nose and threw the shovel on the ground beside you, reaching with a hand towards Dean for him to help you get out of the hole.
“There it is.” You say proudly as you stare down at the decomposed body being covered with salt by Sam while Dean reaches for the alcohol in the bag and the lighter in his pocket.
You three watch as the bones light up in an orange fire, burning away what’s tying the poor soul to this world, the heat radiating in your skin. After some time you bump your shoulder with Dean’s, making him look at you.
“Let’s go, I need a shower so we can go out and celebrate” You say with a grin as you turn back to walk towards the Impala and Dean follows suit along with Sam, the fire slowly extinguishing itself behind you.
You opened the door to the backseat, the creaking of the hinges echoing through the night, getting inside and closing the door with a thud. Dean and Sam sat in their designed seats at the driver and shotgun, respectively, and you drove into the night towards the motel.  
“I saw a bar not far from where we are staying” Dean said and you hummed and Sam nodded. “You two might have to come back alone, you know” He suggested with a smirk and Sam scrunched his nose and let out an amused huff and you chuckled dryly, a weird nausea bubbling in your stomach.
Deep down you wished Dean could see you the way he sees the bartenders and strippers in bars or clubs you three often go to. You didn’t know if he thought you were too rough, too scarred, both mentally and physically. You usually dressed up nice, using makeup from time to time when you noticed your eyebags were getting darker or when your lips looked too pale. You also tried your best with clothing, well, the best someone could do when you were a hunter. Either way, you never looked like those girls, they were absolutely stunning, even for you, and you couldn’t compete with them.
You shook your head. You were probably thinking these things because it had been some time since you last got laid. Tonight was your night, you were feeling it, you were taking someone to your room.
Dean turned the car off after parking and you got out, going to the trunk to get your bag.
“You guys meet me in my room? I’ll most likely take longer to get ready” You said with a grin and the boys nodded. You took out the keys to your room and got in, throwing your bag over your bed and going to another bag you had in your room, where you kept your “fancy” clothes and makeup.
You took out a beautiful black dress with long sleeves that ended in your mid thighs. It was a dress you thrifted when you went on a hunt alone a while ago and never had the opportunity to use it. When you tried it on, though, it hugged your curves in all the right places, made your body look amazing and you felt as confident as one could feel.
You left the dress over the bed and rushed to the bathroom to take a shower, smiling to yourself. You took your time, washed your hair thoroughly and finished it off in the usual way. In the hunting life you often get your hair very dirty almost everyday with blood, dirt, ectoplasm…you name it. So, keeping it lucious and healthy was a process that you grew fond of doing to recollect some of that normalcy that hunting didn’t give you.
You came out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your body and picked up an underwear set that was, well, sensual to say the least and dropped the towel to the ground to put it on, the dress going over it, careful not to mess up your hair in the process.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and whistled in surprise at your own appearance, you looked good. Time for makeup.
You didn’t do much, a simple concealer, contour and blush with mascara and a smokey eye was enough to drop any man to the ground.
You decided to put shoes on because, first, if you really had to walk back, heels weren’t helpful, second, you didn’t have your heels with you at the moment.
While you were finishing up you heard a knock on your door. You opened it and there they were, Sam and Dean, practically on the same looks, just cleaner, waiting for you.
They both eyed you up and down, drinking your appearance in, Dean dropping his jaw slightly as he stared at your exposed thighs. Sam let out an impressed sigh and cleared his throat.
“Wow Y/N you look…amazing” He said and you smiled, looking down, feeling a tad bit embarrassed.
“Yeah…” Dean agrees, half on earth, half in his head trying to get rid of the thoughts of those beautiful legs wrapped around his neck while his nose deep into your–
“Well, thank you, I hope it isn’t too much.” You said.
“No, n–no, ha, it’s not, at all,” Dean said to quickly, finally grasping the courage to look into your eyes, the beautiful colors drowning him and your shy smile making him want to smash his lips to yours that moment. He cleared his throat. “Shall we go?” He offered.
“Yes, let me just get my phone” You said and went inside for a couple seconds, coming out with it and your wallet. “C’mon!”
You passed through them and went towards the car. Sam elbowed Dean to make him turn to him.
“You are staring at her like she’s a cheeseburger and you haven’t eaten in days, man” Sam teased and Dean frowned at him “You were practically drooling”
“I–I was not, okay? She just looks…pretty, that's all” Dean said, ignoring Sam’s ‘Yeah, right’ and going to the driver's seat in the Impala, you already sat down in the backseat. After Sam got in you all went to the bar and you felt particularly excited this time.
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“Okay, every single one who tried to flirt with me was a disaster” You said, coming back to the table with a sigh, Sam and Dean almost laughing at you as you handed them their beers. “Seriously, who do I have to kill to get laid in this shit”
You took a swig of your beer and looked around once more, trying to find a decent man for you to take back tonight when you eyed a handsome black haired guy a few feet away. You smiled to yourself and got up from your seat.
When you walked up to him you didn’t see it but Dean was fuming with jealousy, this feeling bubbling up inside him that made his fists unconsciously clench over the table. He tried flirting with other women that night, chatting them up like he usually did but it all went down the drain the moment his eyes darted to you again, a guy practically snuggling up to you while you gently pushed him away and refused his advances, either not finding him attractive or just not feeling a spark.
He should be the one you looked at, he knew everything about you, how you liked your coffee, your favorite drinks, the faint lines that would appear around your lips when you smiled, the way your eyes lit up when you were talking about something you enjoyed. He knows you.
Sam noticed his brother’s demeanor and called out to him to snap him out of his jealous haze. Dean turned his eyes to Sam and he had this stupid smirk on his face, sipping the beer once again to hide his amused smile.
“What?” Dean snapped, his hand wrapping around the bottle, the cool glass doing nothing to ease his temper down, his knee going up and down under the table with nervousness.
“Nothin’” Sam answered and finished his beer, getting up and leaving a couple dollars, enough to pay for the beers he drank. “I’m going back, y’know, tired. Tell Y/N”
Dean nodded, he didn’t know if Sam meant for him to tell you that Sam went back or that you’ve been in his dreams for months now, not all of them cute and fluffy, some made him wake up with a hard-on, sweating and longing for you.
He looked in your direction and you were coming back with an annoyed face, arms crossed in front of you, feet stomping the ground. Dean made a confused face and when you got back to the table you sat down on the chair with a scoff, his eyes never leaving you.
“He has a girlfriend” You murmured and then realized you were one man short “Where’s Sam?”
“He called in, tired” Dean said and you hummed. He had a weird look on his face, something you couldn’t make out what was. You sighed and looked down.
“I think we should go too, this night was disappointing to me” You breathed out a laugh “I’m impressed you didn’t find anyone, I saw some girls eyeing you”
“Nah, I’m fine,” He said and finished his beer. You widened your eyes at him but didn’t say anything, just nodding hesitantly in shock. “Let 's go?”
He said getting up and you mirrored him, pulling your dress down a bit, Dean’s eyes on you all the time. He bit his lower lip and mentally told himself to cool it.
As you two walked towards the car you couldn’t help but look at him up and down, silently appreciating his figure. His strong jawline, his green eyes now dark thanks to the night, his slightly crooked nose that made him look unique.
When you got into the car, in silence, you drove back to the motel and you felt an unmistakable tension in the air and you were worried you might’ve done something to upset the man. You started to fidget with your fingers over your lap, the street lights going past the car through the window as Dean sped up through the pavement.
His hands gripped the wheel, holding back the urge to pounce on you right there and then. When he parked the car and reached for the door handle you held his wrist.
“Wait! Dean, is something the matter?” You asked, big eyes looking into his as he looked at you, noticing the trouble behind those beautiful orbs. He wanted to punch himself in the gut for making you feel bad. “What happened?”
“Nothing it’s just…” He trailed off and looked at your hand wrapping his wrist. His other hand enveloped over it and your skin flared up with goosebumps. He felt warm, rough, his strong grip comforting. You took your hand away from his wrist, allowing his hand to wrap over your and pull you into him.
You yelped and was about to question him when you felt his plump lips against yours, his other hand hesitantly holding your cheek and you melted. It took you a while to process what was happening. Dean Winchester is kissing you. Though, when you did, your free hand went to the back of his neck to deepen the kiss.
Everything felt like a fever dream and you were afraid that if you pulled away you’d wake up and Dean would be gone. His lips had a taste of beer lingering from the night out, they were full and smooth. You felt like you were drowning in this feeling until Dean pulled away, seeking a breath of air.
You looked between his eyes, your breaths molding into each other from the closeness. You moved the hand he was holding up his chest, to his shoulder, up to his cheek, his eyes closing and his head snuggling against your hand, his fingers fidgeting around your wrist.
He opened his eyes, a thousand feelings swimming behind his green orbs as you both communicate in silence, an agreement, a revelation. You smiled and pulled him in again, this time with no hesitation. His hand went down your arm slowly, your skin warming up where his hand passed by, and settled by your waist, pulling you closer. His tongue teased your bottom lip and you eagerly opened your mouth with a low moan.
At that, he smirked into the kiss and pulled you over his lap, the steering wheel digging into your back, his hands both placed at your hips as you unconsciously rocked against him. He let go of your mouth again and you stared down at him.
“I wanted to do this so bad” He whispered and you smiled, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck mindlessly. He placed a loving kiss at your jaw and pulled away again while you hummed, content.
When you looked at his face again there was a frown and he was avoiding your eyes. You grabbed both his cheeks and made him look at you.
“What was that thought, hm?” You ask lightly as to not push him away. You didn’t want this to end, not ever. He seemed nervous.
“What does this mean to you?” He asked and you furrowed your eyebrows. “To me, Y/N,” he continued, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs “you’re everything, I mean, you– you’re perfect. You’ve seen everything I’ve done and never let me down, you’re beautiful and so much more. If to you I’m just a way to get off then–”
You cut him off with a peck on his lips.
“Stop. Right there.” You started, looking deep into his eyes. “Dean I– you are everything I’ve ever wanted, needed. You mean more to me than words can describe, you’re not just a one night stand, you’re my dream”
When you finished, he didn’t waste a second to wrap a hand behind your neck and steal your lips again, his mouth addicting. There was so much passion, feeling and desire pumping through your veins.
Your dress was high on your thighs and one of his hands squeezed the flesh hungrily, making you groan in his mouth. He went further with his hand, his thumb caressing over your covered sex and you opened your mouth in a whimper.
Dean attacked your neck with kisses and hickeys, his teeth leaving a pattern over your skin as his hand ghosts over where you need him the most.
“Dean…” You say, a beg behind your words and he pulls away, both his hand and his mouth, making you shiver from the lack of contact and the cool feeling his saliva left behind over your neck.
“Sweetheart, as much as I’d like to have you in the car,” He said, his voice rough and deeper with lust, his pupils wide as he opened the door, a cool breeze coming in that did little to nothing to cool your skin off. “you deserve a bed, another time” He finished, leaving an open mouthed kiss under your ear.
Another time. You nodded, words failing you as you stepped out of the car, adjusting your dress and hair the best you could to seem decent. Dean stood up behind you and let a hand linger on your waist, eager to touch you at all times and all ways.
You both walked towards the door of your room, Dean’s fingers tightening on your skin the longer it took for you to get the door open. The moment you were able to open it, he pushed both of you in, turning you around and pinning you to the door inside, closing it with a loud noise behind your back and his lips were on your again, his hands roaming over every inch of your skin.
You yelped in shock but soon reciprocated the touches and kisses, your fingers wrapping around his jacket and pulling it off, his hands momentarily leaving you to drop it to the ground. When his hands came back he grabbed both your legs and lifted you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips for support, his fingers digging into your skin yet again.
Your hands pulled on his hair, your tongues battling in a messy kiss when you feel your body move to the bed, your body being gently placed over it.
Dean pulled away, standing up fully and you took him in with a bite of your lip. He unbuttoned his flannel, slowly and you lifted your dress over your hips, lifting them off the bed to help, revealing your panties and over your head to take it off completely and throwing the fabric away.
Dean’s breathing got heavier, the confine of his pants bothering him as he finally discards the flannel, torso naked to you. You drink his defined physique with hooded eyes and he smirks down at you, his head going close to the waistband of your panties, eyes never leaving yours as he leaves kisses from your hips to your stomach to the valley of your breasts until he came face to face with you again, a smile lingering in his lips making one of your own appear on yours.
Your hands grab at his cheeks and pull him in again as he holds you by your waist, pulling your near naked torso into his. His fingers ghost over every inch of new exposed skin as if he was memorizing every atom of your being like you were going to disappear.
Your hands start to explore over his chest, the strong muscles flexing against your palms, your nails scratching at his wide back and shoulders.
His hands travel behind your back to unclasp your bra and you let him, letting the undergarment go loose against your breasts and Dean takes it off. He drinks the view in, staring and you start to feel self-conscious and take your hands to cover yourself up. Dean catches onto that and kisses you again, one big hand grabbing at your right breast and you whimper in his mouth.
“I always knew you were beautiful” He whispers against your lips and pulls back to look at you again “But you are the most perfect thing I’ve ever laid eyes on”
This time you turned away from him with a stupid smile on your face.
“Says you” You say and turn to him again, your hands over his shoulders and moving towards his back “Your back is a perfect place for my nails to dig in” You whisper seductively on his ear and leave a hickey on his neck. He groans and lowers his head to wrap his mouth around one of your nipples, the warm feeling against the sensitive nub making you arch your back into him and your fingers to tangle in his hair.
“Dean, fuck–” You moan as he gently bites your nipple and moves to the other breast, his eyes looking at you from below and drinking in your noises.
One of his hands sneaked up your inner thigh and teased your clit over your panties and you shivered, a smirk on his lips against your breast. He slowly took your panties off, discarding them on the ground and now you were completely bare below him, vulnerable.
His middle finger pressed over your clit and you arched again.
“Dean, please…” You beg, your best attempt at puppy dog eyes looking down at him and he adds his ring finger, starting to do slow circles over the sensitive nub as he kisses up your neck, your noises of pleasure egging him on.
He lowers his fingers to your entrance and he slips both in with no restraint given your wetness, the feeling making you let out a moan and grab onto his shoulders as he hooks his fingers inside you, touching that special spot.
He smirks smugly and continues his ministrations, your pussy clenching and tightening around his fingers making him groan.
“You’re so wet” He mumbles “I wonder how you taste like” He gives your nose a peck, your mind too drowned in pleasure to respond to his words. He kisses down your body, his fingers never leaving you, until he's facing your cunt. He places both your legs over his shoulders, your thighs resting around his cheeks, the light stubble leaving a tingly feeling behind.
He leaves a lingering kiss over your clit and you buck your hips, looking for more friction. He teases a bit more, biting and sucking at your inner thighs, everywhere but where you needed his mouth to be. You took charge and grabbed at his hair, pulling his face closer and he complied.
“Oh, fuck!” You groan.
His tongue licked at your sex and your loud moans echoed through the walls, the warm muscle doing wonders against you and the mix of his fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge, your eyes fluttering close in bliss.
“Dean, God” You moan as he squeezes your thigh. All the ministrations send shivers down your spine, your core tightening inside you, that familiar rush of warmth spreading through you. Your thighs try to close, forgetting Dean’s in between and he hums against your cunt, the vibrations making you feel like you were in heaven. “I’m cumming”
“Cum for me princess” He mumbles and you let go with a chant of his name. The feeling washes over you, making you feel lighter for a couple seconds, Dean helping you ride out your orgasm. When the stimulation becomes too much and you whine and squirm away, he gets up from his knees, chin glistening in your juices. He took his fingers out, a grunt scaping your throat at the emptiness. It was a sinful sight.
He crawled over you again, his middle and index finger teasing at your bottom lip.
“Open up” He said, voice deep and demanding and you obeyed, opening your mouth and letting his fingers in. You lick your juices clean off his fingers, never breaking eye contact, humming and moaning against his digits as Dean bites his lips with force. Your hand travels down to unbuckle his belt and he takes his fingers away from your mouth to kiss you.
Once you got the belt open, Dean backed away, taking his shoes off and unzipping his pants. Meanwhile, you drank in his appearance. His hair was a mess, a thin sheen of sweat covering his skin, his arms flexing as he lowered his pants along with his boxers. He was divine.
When he dropped the jeans his eyes drifted back to you, catching you staring and he smirks.
“See something you like?” He asks, closing the gap between you again, smashing your lips to his in yet another breathtaking kiss.
He completely lies you down on the mattress, his elbows supporting his weight over you as his cock bumps against your sensitive sex and you gasp, hand gripping the back of his neck.
“Fuck me” You say, bluntly and whiny but he gets the hint and aligns his member to your hole.
“Yes Ma’am” He says and starts to insert himself inside you, an immediate groan coming out of both your throats, his forehead dropping to the nape of your neck as his fingers dug into your hips, holding himself back to not slam into you at full force. You felt amazing around him, the warmth of your walls made him never want to go away.
“Oh my God” You moan as he slowly goes deeper, his cock throbbing inside you. Once he bottomed out you were breathing heavier than ever, pupils blown and nails teasing at his back. “Dean” 
“I’m right here sweetheart” He reassured you and left kisses over your shoulder to distract you. You grinned at his sweetness and rolled your hips against his, a sign that he could move.
“Move, please, I want to feel you” You mumbled and he obliged, instant pleasure going through your body.
“God, Y/N” He moaned close to your ear as he went faster, your moans getting louder.
He smashed his hips against yours, eyeing the way it went in and out, being deliciously consumed by your cunt, glistening with your slick and cum. He stared at you, your fucked out state, the way you were a moaning, whimpering mess beneath him and he felt proud to be the reason you were like this.
You felt every inch ripping your insides, Dean’s hands roaming through your body as his lips left bite marks and kisses around your skin. His lips wrapped around your nipple and everything just added more to the pleasure when his tongue circled around your nipple.
“You’re so pretty” He groaned after pulling away from your breasts and felt that familiar feeling go through him as your pussy clenched tighter around his cock. He was close and he knew you were too. His hands traveled both down to your lower body, one pressed over the skin under your belly button and the other circled your clit messly.
When he pressed down over your lower belly you felt him impossibly deeper and grabbed at the sheets underneath you to ground yourself to reality.
“Jesus– Fuck Dean, please!” You moaned incoherently as that bubble inside you was about to pop “I’m gonna cum, baby, please” You moaned again and you knew he was close to, his hips stuttering and losing rhythm.
“Cum with me Y/N” He said and not even seconds later you unraveled beneath him, your high hitting you like a bus, a loud moan rippling through your throat and Dean pulled out, cumming over your stomach, his chest heaving with his breaths.
Dean forced himself to get up and get a wet towel to clean you up in the bathroom, coming back and gently wiping away the fluids. You were spent and at the same time as happy as you could ever be.
You adjusted yourself in the bed while you waited for Dean to come back from the bathroom after discarding the towel, his naked shadow visible thanks to the light inside. When he walked out he smiled at you and snuggled beside you, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping an arm around your waist.
You were both silent for a while until he spoke up. 
“I love you so much” He said “And no, this is not post sex haze, I’ve loved you for so long” He admitted quietly above you and you felt your heart beating ten times faster at his words. You looked up at him and placed a gentle hand over his cheek to make him look down at you.
“I love you too, dumbass” You say with a chuckle and kiss him deeply again, pouring all the love you knew you felt towards him into the kiss.
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A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo.
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little-diable · 2 months
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Not a Ghost - Dean Winchester (smut)
I feel like my Dean fics are always just pwp, but I always try to weave in some plot points, promise. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: For the past ten years, Dean had been forced to accept that she was dead – dead because John hadn't been able to rescue her in time. But what happens when he stumbles upon her in a bar? Not a ghost, but alive and breathing.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, reunion, John is a dick as always
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.3k words)
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“You’re staring, it’s getting creepy man,” Sam murmured his words as he gulped down another sip of his beer, eyes following his brother’s line of sight. Dean didn’t reply, eyes fixated on a woman standing a few feet away. The bar was crowded, packed with people neither Sam nor Dean wanted to interact with, and yet Dean’s eyes had been following her around ever since they had stepped into the bar almost an hour ago. “Dean, c’mon man.”
Sam’s hand met his brother’s arm, hoping to finally gain his attention, but Dean barely reacted. The older Winchester brother had his eyebrows furrowed, hand wrapped around the beer bottle he had barely drank from. It wasn’t the first time Sam had caught his brother admiring a woman, god, Dean was famous for loving “frisky women” after all, and yet this was something new, something Sam couldn’t understand. 
“Excuse me.” Dean rose to his feet, leaving his confused brother behind without explaining a thing to him. Sam could only watch Dean move through the crowd, coming to a halt in front of the woman whose face Sam hadn’t seen just yet. It was too loud for Sam to pick up on the words Dean spoke, words that forced the woman to slowly turn towards him. 
“What the fuck?” With the words rolling off Sam’s tongue, he jumped to his feet, full of confusion, not understanding what was going on. But before Sam could reach the two, she had tugged on Dean’s hand, pulling the man out into the cold. 
“How is this possible?” Dean’s words dripped with confusion, arms crossed in front of his chest as if he was trying to protect himself from her. It was too dark for (y/n) to pick up on the tears welling up in his piercingly green eyes, overwhelmed by the sadness washing through him, the sadness he had tried to swallow for the past decade. 
She wasn’t supposed to be here, wasn’t supposed to be breathing, wasn’t supposed to be alive. 
“How is what possible? You have the fucking nerve to speak to me again after ten fucking years of silence? You packed up and left, Dean!” Her angry words left Dean choking, taking a step back as if she had pushed him. For a second neither of them spoke, engulfed in silence and the sound of Sam slowly stepping closer. The taller brother kept his distance, yet he found himself just as overwhelmed by his emotions, unsure how to react.  
“What are you talking about? You are supposed to be dead, I mourned you for ten years, and now I find you here, alive.” Dean’s words dripped with anger, but Sam could clearly pick up on the sadness that thumped through his brother’s veins. This was fucked up, another level of fucked up.
“Dead? Dean, why should I be dead?” No longer was (y/n) close to screaming, she took a step closer to Dean who struggled to keep standing still, body begging him to move away from her. If Sam hadn’t been with him, he would have been sure that this was just his mind fucking with him, hallucinating the woman he had once been engaged to, the woman he had mourned for a decade. But as much as Dean wanted to speak up, to explain what was going on, he couldn’t, too choked up. 
(Y/n)’s now glassy eyes flickered to Sam’s, desperate for an explanation as she watched the taller brother take another step closer to interfere. He kept his voice calm as he spoke up, eyes flickering between Dean, who kept staring at her, and (y/n), “It was a Tuesday evening, dad came home after his hunt with you and told us that you died that day, that he had burned your body because there wasn’t any time to lose. He explained every detail, how you had been torn to shreds, how he had tried to save you, but was too hurt himself to react quick enough. I stitched him up that evening, he looked horrible, littered with scars, so there was no doubt, he must have told the truth.”
The gasp that left (y/n) was almost louder than the sob that tried to leave Dean, reminded of the day that haunted him every single night. Tears dripped down both their cheeks, eyes now unable to break contact. 
“He, uhm,” she had to clear her throat, trying to wipe away her tears with her sleeves. “That day he told me that you no longer wanted the engagement, but didn’t know how to tell me and that you left that night with Sam. I was so angry, so I also packed up and left, I couldn’t stay. John was with me for a few weeks.” Both brothers could still remember how they had packed their things, how Dean had been driven on by the need to disappear from the house that reminded him of (y/n), and how Sam knew that he couldn’t stay away from Dean, not knowing if he’d try to hurt himself. They hadn’t tried to get in touch with John for a while, guided by the anger of him not being able to save (y/n). 
“I will kill him.” Goosebumps rose on Sam’s skin at the tone of Dean’s voice, an unfamiliar tone, full of hatred. But Sam couldn’t blame Dean for his anger, he had been right there, watching his brother suffer for years on end, trying to drown his hurt in alcohol and one-night stands, addicted to hunts and the distraction they offered. Before Sam could even try to speak up, (y/n) had slung her arms around Dean’s waist, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. 
……
“It’s alright, Dean, I won’t let you leave. I promise.” Her voice echoed through the apartment, eyes set on Dean’s face. Sam had made his way back to the motel he and Dean were staying in, while Dean had driven (y/n) and himself back to her place. Neither of them could stop touching one another, still not believing that they were reunited after all these years. 
“I don’t know what to believe if I’m being honest, sweetheart. Deep down I always knew he was fucked up, but this? All for what?” Only now did Dean pick up on the hesitation tugging on her features. He rose to his feet with a huff, hand combing through his hair as he growled a raspy “Unbelievable”. 
“In those few weeks, he stayed with me, he tried to convince me that he was the better choice, that you had nothing on him. Of course, I didn’t give in, I guess that’s why he eventually left. And I haven’t heard from him since.” She didn’t dare meet his angry gaze, fumbling with her shaking fingers. (Y/n) tried to stop herself from crying once again, knowing that as much as she had struggled the past years, Dean has had it much worse, mourning the person he had wanted to marry. 
“I should have known, he was always fascinated by you, some weird obsession I should have paid more attention to. I am sorry, sweetheart, so sorry.” Dean’s hand found her chin, forcing her to lift her gaze. She didn’t get a chance to reply, words stuck in her throat as Dean kissed her breathlessly. The moan clawing through her urged Dean on, pressing her against the kitchen island. 
(Y/n)’s fingers found their way to his hair, tugging on his roots with as much strength that forced a growl out of Dean. They couldn’t part, didn’t want to break the kiss, it had been too long since they had gotten the chance to communicate their emotions in a raw way like this. But as much as they wanted to keep on kissing one another, they were also desperate for more, for Dean to bury himself deep inside of her. 
“How do you want me?” (Y/n)’s hazy eyes found his piercing green ones, tongue running along her lower lip. She pondered over his words, not once in the past ten years had she believed that she’d get another chance to be loved by Dean Winchester, and now she didn’t know what she wanted. Too many things she needed, too many choices he offered her. His fingers worked on her shirt, tugging it over her head, groaning as his eyes found her chest. Within seconds he had ripped her bra from her frame, lips finding her hardening nipples. 
“Fast, rough, fuck, I don’t care. I just need you inside of me.” She had ached for that familiar stretch, had ached for the feeling of his cock filling her, something she had thought of for all these years. Dean hummed, letting the sound vibrate on her skin as he palmed her breasts, while he nudged his hardening cock against her clothed cunt. Curses ripped through (y/n), head rolling back to let go of another heavy moan. 
Without another warning, Dean pulled away, turned her around and pressed her front down against the cold surface of her kitchen island. With quick fingers he had pushed her jeans and panties down her legs before she heard him unzip his jeans, before she heard him fumble with a condom wrapper, knowing that as much as he wanted to feel every part of her, they couldn’t risk anything, not now at least. 
“I’ll give you fast and rough, baby, but after that I’ll take my sweet time with you.” Dean had pushed into her before she could reply, forcing a deep moan out of the both of them. Both their bodies needed to adjust to one another, even though she was dripping for him, folds covered in her arousal, her cunt still struggled to take all of him. Deep breaths left them both, minds torn between the sweet sensation and the overwhelming wave of emotions clashing through them.
“Move, please. Fuck me like you would have done all these years.” The growl leaving Dean made her breath hitch in her chest, fingers reaching for the edge of the kitchen island to hold on. He pulled out of her only to thrust into her with more force, set on leaving bruises on her hips with the ferocious pace he was about to build. 
(Y/n)’s walls clenched around him, fluttering with every thrust that had her seeing stars. No other man had ever fucked her like Dean. Dean, the one she had always loved. Dean, the man she had wanted to grow old with. Dean, the man who had mourned a woman who had waited for his return for all these years. If there was one thing (y/n) was determined about, it was making things right, making up for all these lost years. 
Their bodies met with every thrust, allowing Dean to fuck her deep, hard, fast. It was perfect, cheesy almost with their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. Dean’s fingertips were buried in the flesh of her hips, set on leaving bruises that matched those the kitchen island would leave behind. He was focused on marking her up, claiming her like he had done over a decade ago. 
“Jesus, sweetheart, you feel so good. I dreamt of this almost every night.” Dean’s raspy voice left her groaning, eyes squeezed shut to try and hold on. She didn’t want to cum just yet, didn’t want to let go when Dean fucked her this ruthlessly. (Y/n) was too choked up to reply, wanted to tell him how she had always dreamt of him, of the way he touched her, but she couldn’t, she could only moan for him. 
“You’re still so fucking tight, squeezing me just right. You’re close, aren’t you, baby?” An almost silent “Yes” managed to leave (y/n), coaxing a chuckle out of Dean as he let his fingers find her clit, rubbing her bundle to push her over the edge. She loudly moaned for him, giving into the call of her arising high with her eyes squeezed shut, walls clamping down on his cock. 
Dean kept fucking her, forcing his cock deeper into her with every thrust. Moans kept clawing through the both of them as (y/n) came on his cock, allowing Dean to fuck her through her high in search of his own. He kept thrusting into her, head rolling back as his cock twitched, about to fill the condom. The curses leaving Dean made her walls flutter once again, knowing that he’d fuck her all through the night. 
With a huff, Dean pulled out of her, throwing away the condom as she slowly turned around, facing him. He moved back towards (y/n) with a smile glued to his lips, hands cupping her warm cheeks to pull her in for a slow kiss.
“You’re still wearing it.” (Y/n) murmured the words as she reached for his hand, looking at the ring she had pushed onto his finger as he had asked her to marry him, wanting Dean to also wear a ring. Tears welled up in (y/n)’s eyes, thinking of all these years they had lost, years they could have spent together rather than apart.
“Of course I do, I couldn’t take it off, I didn’t even try to.” (Y/n) gave him a soft push back, redressed herself quickly before disappearing in another room – only to reappear seconds later. His green eyes found the ring he had bought her over ten years ago, unable to bite down his smile as she came to a halt in front of him, eyes finding his. 
“If you will still have me, I’d like to start wearing it again.” A choked sound left Dean, lips finding hers as he took the ring from her, pushing it back onto the finger it had once rested on all too comfortably. 
“I’ll always have you, sweetheart.”
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apocalypseornaw · 25 days
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What's Mine
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Dean Winchester x Reader
You and Dean have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks until you run into your ex on a hunt and Dean makes it a point to let it be known he isn't giving up what's his..you
The breath was knocked out of you when your back hit the dirt, Dean's body on top of yours was a familiar weight and he'd somehow supported your head to keep your neck from slamming at a weird angle when the two of you landed.
“You ok?” He asked breathlessly and you managed a smile “Had worse” you felt the heat of the flame from the open grave hit your side and knew Sam had torched the bones. Good thing too that damn ghost had tossed you and Dean both like a frigging ragdoll.
“You two good?” Sam called out and Dean who was still currently on top of you smirked “Been in a lot worse positions” you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the chest “Shut up and get off me Winchester” he got to his feet and helped you to yours before grabbing his chest playfully “Oh come on sweetheart. You're killing me here. You know you want me”
You felt your face warm at his teasing. Did you want him? Hell yes, who wouldn't? Did you have no clue where he stood due to months of flirting, light touches and getting so comfortable with each other you regularly ended up in each other's beds if one of you had a bad night.
“Oh yes. Let me ravage you in the middle of this graveyard covered in dirt and ectoplasm” you shot back and he grinned “Oh I'd take ya anyway I could have ya” you rolled your eyes and walked over to the grave where Sam was already filling in the hole and picked up a shovel. Dean joined the two of you and in no time the grave was back covered.
You looked from Sam to Dean “I need a shower” you announced only to be met with Sam saying he needed food and Dean saying he needed a drink. You laughed “There's a bar not far from our hotel. Sign boasted the best wings as voted by some traveling foodie. Let's hit the showers then we can grab some food and a few drinks before we hit the hay”
Dean grinned “That's my girl” and Sam shook his head “You two need to get a room” Sam was sick of the little dance you and Dean were stuck in as much as you were but you refused to make the first move. You knew how Dean was when it came to commitment.
You'd known both brothers for years and had started hunting with them full time after Bobby died then moved into the bunker full time after your last breakup.Sam was your best friend. You loved them both and refused to let your feelings for Dean come between that. He'd eventually make his feelings known, wouldn't he?
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You walked in the bar between Sam and Dean, feeling Dean's hand at your lower back. It was a habit he'd long since started doing. Whether it was when the three of you were on a hunt, you went to the grocery store with him or something as simple as walking in a bar. When you'd asked him about it hoping he'd use the opportunity to admit anything he'd instead told you that he just liked to keep a hand on you. Something about in public places it keeping any pervs from thinking about looking your way.
You tried to ignore the instinct to lean into his touch. Was it possible he didn't want you like you wanted him? Maybe he really did just see you as a good friend and you were reading too much into things.
—--------------
Dean felt your back tense under his hand as Sam cleared the way to a booth on the back wall. “You good sweetheart?” He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. You nodded but didn't give a verbal response. He was sure he'd blocked your head from taking a blow but maybe your back or ribs had taken a hit you hadn't admitted to?
He'd make a point to ask you before all of you settled down for the night back at the hotel.
He watched as you sat down on one of the benches then looked between him and Sam “Who's going to the bar?” He raised his hand slightly “you want your usual?” You nodded “Yes please” when you gave him a small smile he felt one slip onto his face in return but didn't miss Sam rolling his eyes. His little brother had been on his ass for weeks. The last threat had been “If you don't make a move I'm gonna start hitting on her for you. It's pathetic man”
—-------------
After Sam had eaten an extraordinary amount of wings for his usual appetite and you and Dean had split an order of mozzarella sticks you had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Normally one or both of them would walk you and wait outside the door but this once you'd convinced them to let you go alone.
When you got back out of the bathroom you saw that both of them had gone to the bar so you headed that way. You were almost to them when you heard a voice call your name you froze dead in your tracks, you'd recognize that voice anywhere. Your ex boyfriend Dominic.
The same ex boyfriend who'd broken up with you because “Ain't no way you're not sleeping with one of the Winchesters. They've never made a habit of working with any other hunter with the exception of Bobby yet you're always welcome to join them”
You turned to see him walking towards you. He was a fairly good looking guy. He was about six foot, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. You'd been hurt when he accused you but now there was a whole different level to that hurt considering it seemed the Winchester that you did now have feelings for would never want you.
“Hey Dom” you greeted with a smile. “How ya been?” He asked and you shrugged “You know the life, still breathing so I'd call it a win”
—------------
Sam knew you should be out of the bathroom by now. He had hoped Dean would use the night out to admit his feelings. He turned to look around for you and spotted you talking to someone, no not someone your ex. That was Dominic. This should be interesting.
He glanced at Dean, trying to consider if he wanted to do this or not but then he saw your shoulders tense and knew you well enough to know when you needed a rescue. “Isn't that Dom?” He asked if off handedly but Dean spun around fast enough a few people looked their way. “Yeah it is”
The muscle in Dean's jaw was clenched hard watching you talk to your ex and Sam knew it was now or never. “She doesn't look too comfortable. Maybe one of us should go over there?” He stood like he was going to but Dean grabbed his shoulder “Let me”
—-----------------
What had started off as friendly enough turned not so friendly the moment Dom noticed Sam and Dean at the bar “Which one is it?” “Which one is what?” You asked because you honestly had no idea what he meant. “Which Winchester are you fucking?”
Before you could open your mouth to respond you felt a strong set of arms slip around your waist and heard Dean's voice say “That would be me. Why? You got a problem with it?” You cut your eyes up at him so he used that moment to bring one hand up to cup your chin and when his lips met yours the entire bar could've caught fire for all you cared.
You'd thought of kissing Dean so many times, dreamt of it but good lord the real thing couldn't be described. He rolled his tongue against yours, exploring your mouth and letting you taste the bourbon he'd drank. His hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You felt heat roll through your stomach as he pulled away from you leaving another light kiss on your lips before turning his eyes back to Dom.
“What was the issue of who she's with? Didn't you break up with her?” You could hear the venom in Dean's voice and felt his arms tighten around you protectively. This was new.
Dom shrugged “Yeah I broke up with her because I figured either you or your brother was fucking her” his eyes slid down to you then back up to Dean before he added “Or both of ya”
You felt Dean tense and knew you needed to diffuse the situation. Dom was strong, yeah but Dean was on an entire different level. He could easily kill him and not break a sweat. You gripped Dean's arms to stop him from moving “Baby,let's get Sammy and leave” you hoped you using a pet name for him that you normally wouldn't might get through his head.
He nodded “Yeah. Let's get back to the hotel” he slipped his arms from around you and grabbed your hand instead, lacing his fingers with yours. You took a few steps away and thought that was it, that Dom would use what brain cells he had and let it go. Instead he said “Does she still make that little sound right before she…”
He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Dean had dropped your hand and landed a solid punch before you could blink. Fuck. “SAM!” You shouted over the quickly growing crowd.
You didn't want to get close enough to get caught in the crosshair. Dean would be careful of you but add in enough drunks and adrenaline and accidents happen. “I got him” You heard Sam's voice before you saw him grab Dean's shoulder, ducking the thrown punch “C'mon he ain't worth it”
Dean looked up and met your gaze. You saw him take a deep breath then nod. “Yeah let's go” he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. Sam handed the nearest waitress a few twenties but by that time some drunks had helped Dom to his feet. He was holding his broken nose “So i was right. She's been fucking you”
You squeezed Dean's hand, silently begging him to not be baited. He pulled you into his side then turned to face Dom. “If I would've had her in my bed back then she would've kicked you to the curb long before you split and for the record she doesn't make any small noise with me” you felt your face warm when a chorus of “Ooohhs” went through the bar.
You spotted the bouncer headed in your direction and Dean must have too because he waved towards the door “I'm leaving. I'm leaving. This asshole needed to learn some manners”
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The short ride to the motel had been in silence. You followed Sam into the room and headed for the door adjoining your room to theirs.
—-------------
You felt Dean grab your hand before you made it to the door “Can we talk?” You cut your eyes at Sam then nodded “Yeah. Come on” you walked into your room and waited until you heard Dean close the door to turn and face him.
“I'm sorry you were put in that position to have to defend me” You blurted out and he looked stunned for a minute then shook his head “I'm not. That guy's a fucking asshole. He never deserved you” you smiled slightly “Helluva punch and helluva kiss”
He smirked “I meant it” “The punch?” You asked and he rolled his eyes “The kiss you brat” you grinned “Oh really? What about the she doesn't make any small sound with me part?”
He pushed off the door, walking towards you with almost a predatory look. The same thing that made demons run the opposite direction had the ability to make your knees weak in the best way. “That sounds like you're doubting my abilities sweetheart?” You shrugged nonchalantly despite your heart pounding in your throat “Not like you've made a move to show me your abilities”
—--------------
He stopped just shy of touching you “Let me make myself clear if we do this that's it. You're mine, I'm yours. I don't want one night or just sex. I want all of you” “Good” you replied and that was all it took. He closed the space between you and if you thought the kiss in the bar was something it had nothing compared to the way his lips crashed against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.
He backed you up to the bed and the moment the back of your legs hit it he eased you back on it, never breaking the kiss even as he hovered over you. Once the need for air forced you apart his lips moved across your jaw then down your neck “I've wanted you for so long” he spoke against your skin and you practically melted on the spot. “I'm yours Dean. I've been yours” you whispered and he groaned “Gonna be the death of me”
His hands gripped your shirt and before you could protest he ripped it right down the middle bearing your covered breasts to him. He bit down on one of them and when you moaned and arched your back he slipped his hands under you to relieve you of the bra as well, throwing it across the room. He looked down at you and the look in his eyes made your heart flip “You're so damn beautiful” he murmured before crashing his lips against yours again.
Your hands found his shirt so he broke the kiss long enough to slip it off and throw it, giving you access to his skin. Your hands smoothed over his chest, tracing the tattoo and small scars littered around it that even angelic healing didn't get rid of.
“I need more of you, please” he begged and you fucking whimpered hearing Dean Winchester sound that wrecked. “You have all of me Dean” you whispered and he left another searing kiss against your lips before moving down your body.
He slipped your boots off along with your jeans then panties leaving you bare to him before settling between your legs. He didn't give you time to adjust before his mouth found your core. The first lick was tentative, testing but when your hips bucked up into him he damn near growled before pinning your lower body down with one arm and diving in like a man starved.
—--------------
You were quivering under Dean. He'd already worked one orgasm out of you with his tongue alone and now had added two fingers into you as well. You were so close to that edge again and damn him he knew just what you needed. He turned his wrist to find that spot deep inside of you, running his fingertips over it as he sucked your clit into his mouth and you came again with a scream of his name on your lips.
Once you came down from that high you shoved weakly at his head “Please Dean, too much” he left one final kiss against your clit before leaning back to grin up at you “Worth the wait?” You nodded weakly “Please take your pants off and get up here”
He stood and slipped his boots, jeans and boxers off before crawling up your body, kissing and licking every inch of skin he could on the way up. When he crashed his lips against yours you could taste yourself on him and felt yourself clench especially when he moved to your neck to work your pulse point with his tongue and teeth.
“Dean, I will return the favor next time but please get inside me” He grinned against your skin “Yes ma'am” you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance and rolled your hips up towards him. He slid in slowly, a low moan leaving you both at the feeling of him stretching you.
Once you adjusted to his size you tapped his shoulder “You can move” he gave a thrust and when your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging in, he groaned “That's my girl” before setting a punishing pace.
—------------
You were folded damn near in half, your legs on Dean's shoulders as he pounded into you. You felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes from being pushed to that delicious line between pleasure and pain.
Your legs were shaking, your whole body felt like it was made of liquid. You'd never had this many orgasms fucked out of you and it seemed like he was aiming for one more before he let himself come. “Dean please. I can't take any more” you begged and he kissed your cheek “One more baby. Please. You've got one more for me”
His fingers slipped between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit and you felt that pressure burst again,your vision going soft from the pleasure coursing through you. His thrusts started getting uneven and you knew he was close. “Fuck Dean. You feel so damn amazing. Please come for me, fill me up” you sobbed, fucked senseless.
He groaned,burying his face in your neck as he gave one final hard thrust and you felt when he came deep inside of you.
—----------------
He slowly eased your legs down but stayed inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. When he pulled out he apologized at the low whine you gave before going to grab a warm rag to clean you both up.
After he was sure you were cleaned up and didn't need anything else he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you over on his chest. “No regrets on wanting me?” He asked and you felt your heart jump at the uncertainty in his voice despite having just fucked you senseless. You leaned up to look up at him “Why? You already sick of me?” You teased and his eyes narrowed “Don't even woman”
You laughed lightly “I'm sure Dean. You're who I want” “Good, because I'd hate to have to kill anyone who tried to take you from me” you shook your head “Not happening Winchester. You're stuck with me” He pulled you back on his chest and left a kiss on your head before saying “I've been stuck in a lot worse positions than having you in my arms”
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