#Jensen Ackles Drabble

[a1ecmcdowell]

( AFTERCARE ) . . .ㅤㅤFOUR !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ─ ㅤㅤㅤㅤTHE new rock band in town has some nerve, causing mayhem in the venue next to your studio every night. but how do you stay MAD at the lead singer when he looks at you like that ?

PART FOUR. sorry that u love me !ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤJENSEN POV!! fictional school lore. minor manipulation tactics. one (1) y/n and it DID upset me to do as much as it might u to see </3. reminder that this is a slowburn!!

parts will get longer, probably, as relationship develops.

ㅤㅤㅤ─ word count: 2.2k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤprev partㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤmasterlistㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤnext partㅤㅤㅤ.

ㅤㅤA/N. i did not ever expect to do a jensen pov but honestly i just felt like this one deserved it. he's such a little rat but i'd let him hit it raw ok. before you say girl stand up... ik u were thinking it too... i see u ...

laurel dance academy was fucking cute. a prestigious little building deep in the forestry of outer dallas, tucked away from prying eyes and wanderers, full of some of the prettiest girls that jensen had ever seen in his entire life. 

they were all just as hyperfocused on their education and practices as you were, which meant that the most he got for wandering down the long, winding staircases and stopping to look in every two way mirror was just a look. 

a look! he was fucking trespassing, and all any of the college aged women and scattered men did was eye him, like they were just as aware of how he didn’t belong as he was. 

dangerous, dangerous. he was already trying to think up ways on how to get away with this more often. 

at least he was here for a purpose, and not just in an attempt to get a look at you in your little leotard again. he wondered if you tossed it after he debauched it, or if you’d thrown it in the wash and figured that was enough to get the stain of him off of your skin and your clothes. unfortunately for you, it wasn’t going to be that easy. he rather liked playing with his toys more than once. 

the dean of the school, tracy geralds, had agreed to a meeting with him. it honestly was a long shot, making that request in the first place, but if powerless was going to become something other than a glorified garage band, he had to take some risks that didn’t involve squatting in an abandoned venue. 

they needed shows, concerts, fucking get togethers if they had to settle for that. and while they were still clinging the dust out of every nook and cranny inside of sunset blvd’s walls, they couldn’t do it there. 

laurel had a stage. it was more designed for an orchestra, really, or, you know — dancers. but it was the first idea he’d gotten in their pursuit for getting the band’s name out there. it had nothing to do with you, even though he’d gotten the idea from your affiliation at the school. it was just too damn easy. 

he raps his knuckles on the dean’s closed, cloudy glass door. he waits one, two, three seconds before deciding to twist the knob and invite himself in. what was she going to do, expel him? 

she’s an older woman, pale blonde hair streaked white in places. her eyes are deep brown, thin lines in the corners, and deeper ones around her mouth. her lips twitch upwards in a small, polite smile. 

“jensen, is it?” she asks, moving around neatly stacked papers on her desk to clear an open space in its center. “go on, have a seat. i’m not going to bite.” 

“hey, you never know,” jensen jokes as he steps further into the room, tugging the chair in front of her desk out just enough to slip in the open space. he collapses into the cushion, stretching his legs out as much as he could in the small area. “i should thank you. for meetin’ me like this.” 

tracy geralds picks a pen out from the container at the corner farthest from jensen, and clicks it a couple of times. “i wouldn’t do that yet,” she says, grabbing a paper from one of the file folders. he was throwing this. she wasn’t even giving him her full attention which, he wasn’t entitled to it, but how was he supposed to flirt his way into getting what he wanted if she wouldn’t look into his eyes? 

“i think i’m gonna put my trust in you, tracy— i can call you tracy, can’t i?” his lips quirk in that panty dropping grin he utilizes so often. that smile’s latest victim had been you, and he could still hear the sound of your restrained moans in his ears. “me n’ my crew aren’t gonna fuck too badly with your stage, if you allow us to use the space.” 

her steely, dark eyes flick up at him. “i’d appreciate if you didn’t say fuck here, mr. ackles; not when you’re trying to swindle your way into getting something you want for free.” 

“oh, i wasn’t expecting free,” he quickly interrupts, and his eyes fall to the curve of her button up shirt, gaze tracing the form of her chest— or, lack thereof. god fucking damn it. he had so little patience, and so did she, and he had nothing to work off of. 

her thinned lips press into an even thinner grimace. “you think i’m going to be bribed with the promise of your—” 

a knock sounds at the door before she can finish, and jensen is almost relieved. he’s not in the mood to get his ass handed to him by a woman twenty years his senior, telling him that all he had to offer was, in fact, weak as shit. 

“come on in,” tracy says, her near sneer of a grimace still directed at jensen. 

he was fucking throwing this. 

the door creaks open, and he can’t help but be nosy. he’s already here. he tilts his head back in the seat to look at who was stepping in. 

his smile doubles in size, becoming something more genuine and less forced, at the sight of you. 

your eyes fall down to his instantly before they ever glance at the dean, and he shoots you a wink before turning around again, legs spread and entirely too comfortable for someone who wasn’t necessarily welcome. 

“oh,” you say finally, three seconds too late. so damn cute, he can’t stand it. like a little bunny! “i’m sorry, i can come back later, dean ger—” 

“don’t worry about him. we’re all but finished here,” the dean says, and he has to physically bite back the scoff that raises from his chest. yeah, he’d thrown this shit completely down the drain. unless…

your eyes glance between him and the dean a couple of times, before you clear your throat. “the cd, with the sleeping beauty songs? it, um, isn’t playing the music anymore.” 

he’s never seen you look so sheepish before. the urge to tease you about it is right there on the tip of his tongue, but he shouldn’t right now. he’s pocketing the information for later, though.

“really?” the dean asks, and jensen looks at her again, seeing the shock written on her face. mixed in with it is the slightest hint of fond exasperation. no surprise that you were a damn teacher’s pet type. “it’s brand new.” 

you make a dismissive sound. he’s glancing between the two of you like he has any fucking clue what this means; like he has a right to learn it, either. “beats me.” 

“i’ll go and take a look at it after this,” tracy assures, “and might just make a request for another, just in case. can’t have our aurora without her tracks, can we?” 

aurora. 

no wonder you were a teacher’s pet, you were the lead of whatever the hell performance you guys were talking about. jensen didn’t know how performances worked when it came to dance, but he knew disney princesses — of course he knew disney princesses — and could context clue the shit out of it to assume that you being aurora was a big deal. 

“thank you,” you say, and the door creaks again, like you’re about to leave. 

that won’t do. jensen sits forward in his chair, elbows on his knees, head swiveling around again to look at you. you really are a cute thing, dressed in a pale pink leotard and a matching skirt. your hair was slipping out of the tight bun it was usually in, front strands falling in loose ringlets. 

the smile didn’t work on the dean, but he knew that it worked on you. “hey, sweetheart. no hello?” 

the silence is so fucking heavy that, for the first time in what must have been ages, jensen regrets opening his mouth. the smile on his face becomes less charming and so much more strained. 

you don’t say a word. something about that irks him; the way you stare at him like a deer caught in headlights, your pretty pink lips parted and unspeaking. 

the dean does, though, a hint of incredulity in her voice. “you know each other.” spoken like a question and a statement at once. 

“neighbors,” jensen explains, and the white lie rolls off of his tongue so easily that it could have been the truth. the best lies were part truth, anyways, weren’t they? he’s starting to relax in his seat again, realizing he could salvage this. it was possible. his eyes flit back over to the dean. “she’s actually why i thought of laurel in the first place. i know all about the grandeur of your auditorium from her.” 

you’re glaring at him. he feels it like fire on the back of his skull. dean geralds’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “i didn’t know you hung out with… such a crowd as this, y/n.” 

the dean’s eyes bounce between jensen’s heavily tatted hands, his rugged beard, his ( definitely ) mussed hair, and then to behind him. jensen turns, too, unable to resist seeing your expression at such an observation. 

your lips are curled in the most delicious scowl, your eyes full of hate and fire, as they fall to his. “surprise,” you bite out, and how pretty anger sounds in your voice. he’s heard nothing but that, until now, but it never fails to knock him off of his high horse every time. 

“well, in that case,” the dean sighs heavily, “you must know about the fact that he wants to share the school’s auditorium, i assume.” 

your anger deepens into vibrant red. your cheeks flush with it. jensen half wonders if it’s because you don’t want him infiltrating your space, or because you’re thinking about all the opportunities he’s going to get to see you now. he can almost see the memory of a few nights prior flickering in your eyes. 

“jensen’s a bit of a fool when he sets his attention on something,” you say, and he has to physically bite back the laugh that wants to spill out of his mouth because of it. “it’s all he’s been talking about. doesn’t shut up about it.” 

oh, you are fucking feisty today. he has half a mind to bring up the fact that he knew how to stamp out that fire in you, but he won’t. not in front of your dean, at least. 

“i’m sure you can enlighten me on why he wants laurel so bad, in relation to the tens of other actual venues in the vicinity?” jensen is not a popular person in this room, but he’s having too much fun seeing you on the spot, practically squirming against the door, to do the right thing and tuck tail. “all the information he’s given me is poor attempts at bribery and flattery.” 

ouch. whatever. couldn’t win them all. 

your lips upturn at the corners, though, and that makes everything but you in the room disappear. forget the old ass woman behind him, and the clicking of her pen, the scratch of the ink against whatever she was scribbling down. you were captivating. 

“his band’s trying to fix up sunset blvd,” you say, your shoulders lifting in a little shrug to punctuate it. “until then, they don’t have anything to perform in. i’m guessing that. i don’t know. he doesn’t tell me any of the whys on his goals.” 

hot damn, were you good. he could read each of your expressions like a book, and apparently, you could read his. 

“i assume he didn’t want to go far from home,” you add slowly, like you’re trying to piece together his motives as you spell them out loud, “and knew that i went to school here.” he didn’t. but pretty little lindsey from destiny dance studio spills everyone’s secrets when she has someone’s head between her legs. “and figured he’d take a chance.” 

the dean made a humming sort of noise behind him, contemplative in nature. this was farther than he ever would have gotten with her, because now that he’d gotten his eyes on you again, the idea of fucking his way into a deal with someone with more gray hairs than blonde made him didn’t sound like such a great plan anyways. 

the rolling chair she sits in groans, and he turns over his shoulder to look at her again, even if it physically aches to pull his attention from you and that fiery look in your expression. “thank you, dear. you may return to class. i’ll be down to check that cd out momentarily. and you,” she says, glancing at jensen now, “you’re incredibly lucky, mr. ackles, that the odds somehow fell into your favor.” 

the office door closes behind him at the same time as jensen’s heart stumbles in his chest. his mouth opens and closes a couple of times before it settles on a grin. “i’m very lucky, yeah. i’ll make sure to let her know how thankful i am.” 

and he planned on keeping that promise, at the very least.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFEEDBACK & REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! < 3

tags! @happyladyduck @casatoan @mo0nwalker @manicjk @stereotypicalbarbie @inpraise0fbacchus @fitxgrld @depressionbarbie2023 @n-o-p-e-never @star-yawnznn @suckitands33 @stoneyggirl2

support me ( n get early access! ) on patreon!<3

[figthoughts]

but like imagine dean fucking you with sam asleep in the same room… 18+

warnings: smut, caught in the act, (dean x fem!reader)

+

“mmmph-”

you moaned against dean’s hand as he rocked his cock up into you, his tip brushing against your cervix.

“shhh, baby…” he cooed quietly, glancing over at his brother asleep in the next bed over.

“shhh…” dean whispered, his cock twitching up into your cunt, “you wake sammy, babe, and he’ll be so mad.”

you felt your pussy tighten around dean’s cock again, nearing another orgasm at the thought of getting caught in such a compromising position. dean bit his bottom lip and scrunched his face, trying to hold in a groan at the feeling. he was barely keeping himself together.

you felt your pussy tighten around dean’s cock again, nearing another orgasm at the thought of getting caught in such a compromising position. dean bit his bottom lip and scrunched his face, trying to hold in a groan at the feeling. he was barely keeping himself together.

the quiet but lewd sounds of him pumping into your wet cunt filled the room, along with both your soft grunts and the squeaking of the motel bed.

sam let out a groan and rolled over to face you and dean. you both froze, watching and waiting for his hazel eyes to flicker open and catch you two in the act.

but they didn’t. instead they stayed shut. dean hesitantly slid himself back up into you, keeping his eyes on his brother. you watched sam too.

your thoughts started racing around in your head and you couldn’t deny it, some fucked up part of you kinda wanted to get caught riding dean.

dean’s fingers began rubbing your sensitive clit again, making you whimper as he thrusted in and out of you.

“shush, i’m serious.”

you pouted against his hand, “c-can’t… feels too good…”

he gripped your face tighter, “we’ll have to stop if you can’t keep quiet, baby.”

his words sent a flash of panic through your body, your head instantly shaking as you grinded on him, desperate to show him you can be good.

“that’s it. nice and quiet,” he said breathily, feeling you clench around him again.

you hissed and tried to hold back whimpers as you came all over his cock again, your juices leaving a creamy ring around his length as he pumped into you.

dean groaned at the feeling of you gushing all over his cock. his own release washed over him. he shot thick warm ropes of his seed deep into your cunt, making you whimper and clench again as his hips jerked up. he pulled you down against him and buried his head in your neck, letting out louder grunts and moans.

“can you guys shut the fuck up?” sam groaned. you felt a pillow hit the side of you as you laid flat on dean, his softening cock still inside you. you laughed softly in dean’s ear.

“sorry, sammy,” dean smirked as he rubbed your back. he moved his head to look over at his brother, who had turned away and pulled the blanket over his head completely.

dean laughed and pulled you even closer to him, wrapping his arms around you as he whispered in your ear, “oops.”

A/N: wrote and edited this high so ignore it if something’s grammatically incorrect or doesn’t make sense LOL anyways poor sam :( i’m laughing so hard

requests and feedback are welcome and encouraged!! thank uuu <3

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Pure Filth

Pic used: x - It has not been altered.

Summary: You and Jensen enjoy a brief interlude back stage.

Pairings: Rockstar!Jensen x Musician!Reader (You)

Warnings: Smut. Dirty imagery. Brief fingering. Unprotected PinV sex. Public sex (mostly - your backstage, people are around). Little bit of dirty talk.

Word Count: 801

A/N: Okay, so I'm for sure still working on Chapter 5 and 6 of The Quicksilver Princess and barring some sort of disaster, I'll post both chapters by next Friday.

But I still haven't been able to get Austin out of my mind. The man is an absolute sex rock god! and the concert is lingering in my mind. I know I'm not alone. I got this request from @kayyay1219 and I knew I had to write something else besides Whiskey, Neat.

Hope you enjoy!! ❤️

As always, of course, this is a single, multiverse version of Jensen. This is a complete and utter work of fiction. 😊

His head was thrown back, his pearl white teeth sunk deep into his plush bottom lip as you rubbed him through his jeans. His body still dripped sweat and the tang of it hit your nose as you buried your face in his neck.

You and Jensen had barely made it off the stage before he'd slipped behind some stacked up equipment boxes to slam you against the wall there, only partially shielding you both from the eyes of those who were running around backstage. 

It didn't matter. 

The rest of the band and the road crew knew how the two of you were together. You fought hard, fucked hard, and made incredible, electric music together.

That volatile combination was what brought endless, teeming crowds to your concerts and made the band skyrocket to the top of the charts over and over again.

So everyone just dealt with the fallout from it.

Jensen's lips were frantic and searching now; he breathed you in as he ran his tongue along your jaw before plunging it, wide and wet, into your open, waiting mouth.

As he inhaled you, consumed you, his hands were pulling at your clothes, shoving them up and out of his way so he could dimple your soft, yielding flesh with his hard fingers, squeezing you so tight it felt like he was leaving his fingerprints behind.

You pushed your hands up under the tank top he wore, running them over his sticky skin to his back, loving the way his muscles flexed and moved under your roaming fingers. 

He lifted your tight black skirt so it sat around your waist and then pushed your panties aside so he could swipe his middle finger and forefinger through your hot, wet slick, coating them quickly.

“Unf, fuck, fuck…” He chanted into your ear, before growling loudly as you raked your nails down his beautiful back, collecting him under your nails. The skin and sweat there made you feel dirty and clean at the same time.

You often joked with each other that the life you lived together was pure filth.

The way you loved each other was pure, even if it was dangerous. The way you clung to each other as Jensen slammed into you, acting as an alchemist, changing you from two beings into one. He was Plato, putting the two halves of your one soul back together, and it was pure. 

But the sounds you both made, the physical reality of the moment between you was filthy. The way he grunted as he desperately tried to get even deeper inside you, the way you sucked in too much air and let it slowly leak out of you in an earthy, whining sigh, the way your bodies slid against one another, slick with sweat - it was filthy.

The two of you together were pure filth.

In the hot, thick cacophony of backstage, he fucked you hard and deep, your leg held to his hip as he drove into you. His other hand was pressed tight against your clit, his fingers circling and creating a sharp and aching pleasure that you knew was about to explode.

He knew it too, and when he spoke his voice was rough, whiskey soaked and demanding, the same voice he used when he sang your songs on stage.

“I want everything from you, baby, squeeze me so fucking tight. Give me all your heat and all your screams.” 

He bent his head to lick the salt from your skin and suck on your neck, drinking you in like smooth, sweet tequila.

With his final thrust, you gave up all he asked for, screaming and clenching around him so tightly that he came instantly, his body rutting against you as your pussy milked him dry. 

You both stood on shaky legs and pulled in shaky breaths as he crushed you against the wall, the only thing keeping the two of you propped up.

Less than a minute passed before you heard your stage manager calling out to you both, standing far enough away that she wouldn't get an unsolicited peep show.

“Come the fuck on, you two!" She yelled at you. “The crowd's going ape shit for an encore!” She walked away, shaking her head indulgently.

You managed to help each other stand up straight; you tucked Jensen back into his jeans, and he pulled your skirt back down.

The way you could feel his cum slowly leaking out of you, staining your panties and wetting your thighs, was indecently filthy.

But the warmth in his shining green eyes as he looked down at you, and the way you could both feel your hearts pick up the rhythm of the drums as they called you to the stage - that was beautifully pure.

It was the Yin and Yang of your lives with one another and you wouldn't have changed that perfect balancing act for anything.

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Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

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Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

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[wayward-dreamer]

Ritual

Square/s filled: Marathon sex @spnkinkevents

Pairing: Jensen x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 885

Summary: Jensen and Y/N have a ritual that they always stick to whenever he comes back from a long filming schedule.

Warnings: Swearing, smut: dirty talk, implied oral sex (f receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it up people), rough sex, marathon sex, fluff.

A/N: trying to drabble my way out of a creative block. Happy reading! :)

Y/N really hated it whenever Jensen had to leave for a project. She always understood, and she never held him back because that’s not the person she was. She’d never stop him from doing what he loved most, but she could definitely lament about the fact that he was often gone for months at a time. They would see each other for a weekend every few weeks, whenever he was free or going to a Supernatural convention where she’d meet up with him if she could and wasn’t working herself. It was difficult but they made it work.

Plus their reward whenever he came home at the end of the whole project was the best part.

It didn’t matter how many times their phones rang, chimed with texts, whenever he returned neither of them came up for air until they were both satisfied.

Y/N had been out running errands while Jensen arrived home from his two-and-a-half month long shoot, where they had only seen each other on one weekend and spent a lot of nights having phone sex. As soon as she got his text, she rushed out of the store she was in after paying, and hurried back to the house, being careful on the roads despite her urgency. He had just stepped out of the shower when she dumped the bags by the door and jumped him, stripping him of his towel in one quick pull and pushing him down on their bed.

He turned and placed her on her back, drifting down between her legs as he pulled her flowy skirt off as he went down on his knees. It wasn’t long before his skilled tongue and fingers brought her first orgasm like waves over her body, her hands tight in his hair as his name fell from her lips in breathy moans. As he stood and flipped her over onto all fours, he stroked his shaft before he entered her in one quick shift of his hips, wasting no time in wanting to feel that euphoric bliss he only got with her.

Jensen’s thrusts were hard, long strokes into her clenching walls, his pelvis undulating against the curve of her ass as their pleasured sounds, words of endearing filth and the slapping of skin became the soundtrack to their vigorous love-making. The result of not having seen each other in so long. Her second release came just as quickly as the first, her fists pulling at the sheets underneath her convulsing frame as a shrieking moan escaped her. She felt her wetness flow over his cock, still hard inside her, but that wasn’t good enough for her. She needed to feel him let go; she needed to feel the warmth of his release.

Y/N hissed slightly as she shifted forward, feeling a delicious ache between her legs as he slipped out of her, turning around and placing her hands on his shoulders to push him down on his back before he could even question it. She straddled his hips, taking his length in her hand and pumping him a few times before she notched him to her waiting heat. A long, shuddering whimper left her as she slid down onto him, their eyes locked on each other as he groaned, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

“Fuck,” he husked, staring up at her in awe. “This view never gets old, darlin’.”

She hummed as a smile spread across her face, her hands planted firmly on his chest to use as leverage as she began to move, rocking her hips back and forth. They moved rapidly, chasing not only another burst of ecstasy for herself, but for him too. She could feel how close he was, the tell-tale signs of his grip tightening on her hips and his neck straining, veins pressing against the skin as his gaze darkened while he looked up at her. It was her favorite view of him.

“You gonna cum again for me, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice rasping and deep. “You gonna cum hard, soak my cock, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, as she threw her head back, eyes squeezed shut. “Want-want you to c-cum too-”

“Oh, I’m right there with ya, darlin’,” he reassured her, his hips beginning to move up to meet her thrusts. “Gonna cum so hard in your tight, perfect little pussy…”

Y/N felt her core tightening with every sinful word from his plump lips, the dam breaking before she could properly anticipate it, falling over the edge once more as her arousal covered him. It didn’t take him long to go over after her, a drawn out “fuckkk” escaping him as he grunted, ropes of his cum mingling with her wetness as it coated her walls.

Jensen smirked as he closed his eyes, basking in the feeling that washed over him as she rolled off, settling in next to him. They breathed heavily as he opened them, his green orbs meeting hers as they smiled at each other.

“I’m gonna need a couple minutes,” he chuckled, before he carried on, shifting closer to her, his lips hovering over hers. “But there’s no way I’m done with you yet, darlin’.”

She giggled, pecking his lips once, twice. She loved this little ritual of theirs.

“I’m counting on it.”

[imyourbratzdoll]

Dean meets waitress! reader and the two decided to bang in the car!

hello, sorry this took so long! I hope you like it.

warning - smut, sex in the car, creampie, hookup.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

Your waitress uniform was scrunched up around your waist, giving Dean a perfect view of his cock thrusting in and out of you. His pretty green eyes roll to the back of his head at the feel of your walls squeezing him. “Jesus!” Dean’s hands grip your hips, bouncing you on his throbbing cock. “You feel so good, sweetheart! I swear this is the best goddamn pussy I’ve ever had!” The growl that leaves him sends shivers down your spine, causing your walls to pulse around him and your back to arch.

“Uh-huh.” Your head feels fuzzy as you nod. His swollen tip hits the deepest parts of you, and your hips bounce faster, making the most of this experience. Your hands make their way to his hair, gripping it tightly as you feel your high approach. “C–Cumming, I’m gonna cum! Oh!” Your head falls back, and a silent moan escapes you as your walls tighten around his cock, and you let go.

“Fuck! Fuck! Jesus– shit! So fucking tight! I’m so fucking close!” He grabs your hips, pulling you down onto his cock as he pounds into you. He crashes his lips into yours, and your tongues fight for dominance as you both huff in pleasure. “Shit– shit! I’m cumming!” Dean grunts, nipping your bottom lips as he buries deep inside you. White spurts of cum shoot out of his thick cock and into you. You lean back into the car seat, both trying to catch your breath.

Slowly moving off of his softening cock, you begin to fix your uniform. Dean’s head rests against the backseat, watching you with hooded eyes. His hand lands on your thigh, squeezing it. You look up and give a curt smile. “Well, this was great. Thanks for the ride.” Opening the back door, you quickly hop out.

“Wait! Give me your number so I can call you!” Dean leans forward, looking up at you with those pretty green eyes. You smile, tapping his cheek softly.

“Nah, but thanks anyway.” And with that, you begin to walk back to the diner. Leaving Dean to watch you with a mix of shock and awe, watching as you continue to make sure you look presentable. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[jawritter]

His Good Boy

Summary: Jeff just loves to make Jensen suffer...

Rating: MATURE!!! THIS IS AN 18+ ONLY FIC!!!

Word Count: 710

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Jeffery Dean Morgan (I said what I said)

Written For: @spnkinkevents

Prompt: Free Space (Daddy Kink/Praise Kink/Sub-Dom)

Warnings: *whew, here we go* SMUT! Penatrative Smut, M/M, Dom!JDM x Sub!Jensen, Praise Kink, Daddy Kink, Control Kink, Light Bondage, Pain Kink if you know where to look, Cheating, Language. Orgasm Control. Shaming, Begging. (I hope that's everything, cause I feel like I'm missing something)

A/N: *chuckles to self while heavily debating on not posting this...* This is the first bit if Kinky smut I've written in a long time. So be nice, cause I've NEVER written this kinda smut before. Any who, this is completely unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine! Feedback is golden! Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

"Please let me touch it, Oh fuck! Please, I need to touch it!" Jensen begged through gritted teeth, any pride or shame he had left had been thrown out of the window a long time ago.

His body was shivering, his thigh and leg muscles burning. Small beads of sweat rolled down his naked body, creating little lines of moisture that disappeared into nothing on top of his burning skin. His erect cock stood hard, red, and dripping between his legs. It was heavy, tingling, and full. He ached to touch himself as he watched it bob up and down seamlessly as he rode Jeff's cock in the same steady rhythm that he demanded of he keep pace to.

"Oh no pretty boy, what did Daddy tell you? You're gonna ride Daddy's cock until you cum untouched, and you're so close, to close to give up now," John said, his voice steady and even as his dark eyes watched Jensen bounce on his thick length harder, desperate and ready to fucking explode as Jeff tightened the grip he had on the belt that kept Jensen’s wrist tide firmly behind his back.

Jensen sobbed back a moan as his head lulled slightly, and he quickened his pace, his legs were twitching and jumping as he strained to somehow get himself off before he lost his goddamn mind while he all but rutted Jeff's cock deeper into his tight hole, adding even more delicious pressure to his prostate, and making his dick leak more as it twitched hard. Jeff moaned at the sight, damn near blowing his own load too soon.

"Come on Baby, you're not gonna cry and give up now are you? Such a good boy, taking my cock so well Jay. You're so fucking close, just let go, let yourself cum."

"PLEASE, HELP ME DADDY, PLEASE! JUST LET ME TOUCH IT FOR YOU!" Jensen pleased, and John's hips jerked forward, causing Jensen to be thrust forward and down again on Jeff's dick. God if he kept begging like that he was gonna make him cum in that pretty little ass of his, and he was gonna have his cum dripping out of his pretty little used hole, and into those expensive boxers during ops again. He's pretty sure one of the handlers could even smell it last time. The shame, that is...

Jeff continued to fuck upward unto Jensen as Jensen’s desperation grew, and he rode and rutted Jeff's cock into him with vigor, his whole body vibrating with pleasure and pain. It was a site Jeff would surely commit to memory.

"Shhhh," he hushed him, "Don't want Dee and Hil to know your Daddy's favorite little cock slut, and they're just outside that door there with your fans. Don't want them to know either now, be a good boy and cum for Daddy."

Jensen growled as his perfect white teeth sank into his lower lip, and his cock twitched again before cum, hot and white shot onto Jeff's bare chest, and Jensen’s body twitched and jerked above him as he finally found his release. The chair Jeff was sitting in creaked loudly, but he didn't care much

"God Boy, such a good boy," John moaned as he helped Jensen from his own cock and onto his knees, his hands still firmly tied behind his back. Jensen was so weak and pretty, his body still cock drunk and shivering lightly. What a fucking sight.

"Now," Jeff said as he stroked himself hard and fast right in front of Jensen's pretty, panting mouth. "Open up, and swallow like the good boy you are."

And he did, he was always such a good boy, next time, he was going to have to let him touch it.

Jeff moaned at the thought as he came into Jensen’s hot, waiting mouth, bracing Jensen’s jaw with one rough hand as Hilarie knocked outside of the door.

"Jeff! Baby! Have you seen Jensen? The handlers need him at autos!" She called, Jeff smirked down at his favorite little fuck toy while he worked to free his hands.

"Na babe! Haven't seen him! Maybe Jared has!" He called back over his shoulder, and Hil cursed as she marched off to find Jared.

"Now go clean yourself up, you have a con to finish, and when it's over, if you’re a good boy, I might fuck you again later."

"Yes sir," Jensen answered breathlessly as he watched Jeff slip out of the room after cleaning himself up and dressing quickly.

And fuck he couldn't wait to be his good boy.

Forever:

@whittysunflower

@demongirl1996  

@as-lost-as-sams-shoe

@jensenslady79

@spnwoman

@stoneyggirl2

@unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men

@stixnstripesworld

@fullwattpadmusictree

@nancymcl

@christycreature

@whiskey-infused-dreams

@supernatural79impala

@deandreamernp

@forgetthisbull

@miraclesoflove

@slamminmine

@deanwanddamons

@rvgrsbrns

@chevyharvelle

@i-love-superhero-movies

@lyss-dw79

@magssteenkamp

@lemondropirwin

@squirrelnotsam

@hobby27

@spnbaby-67  

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@defenderrosetyler

@thecreatiivecorner  

@vicmc624

@busy-bee-angel-misska

@justanotherwinchester

@brilovesdeanwinchester

@idksupernatural

@lyarr24

@emoryhemsworth

@dean-winchesters-gardian-angel

@flamencodiva

@itmejado

@thoughts-and-funnies

@teresa-67

@hearteyes-j2

@peaches007

@bobbie3939

@vulgar-library

@writercole

@fairlyspnfanfic

@sexyvixen7

@spngi

@b3autyfuldisast3r

@donnaintx

@maliburenee

@the-family-business67

@agirlwithdemonblood

@captainsoldiergirl

@twinkleinadiamondsky

Jensen and Dean’s Babes

@deans-baby-momma  

@impalaslytherin

@perpetualabsurdity

@msmarvelouswinchester

@akshi8278

@love-jackles

@irmcpar

@pink-sparkly-witch

@deans-spinster-witchs-favorites​

@herstarburststories​

@mimaria420​

@deanwinchesterswitch​

@charred-angelwings​

@pascal-rascal424​

@myloversgone​

@fortheloveof-jackles​

@eevvvaa​

@bts-spnlvr12​

@jxackles​

@lassie-bird​

@samsgirl93​

@shawnie74​  

@kaz11283​

@mlovesstories​

@ladysparks78

[zepskies]

Wanderlust

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: Your wandering hands are keeping Ben up at night.

AN: My nightly daydreams led me to Soldier Boy this time. 😂

I was imagining the Break Me Down-verse for this one (shortly after Checkerboard), but it can also be general Soldier Boy x Reader.

Word Count: 650

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, innuendo, Sleepy Ben, implied smut.

You traced down his back with light, trailing fingers.

Lying next to him in bed, with scraps of moonlight filtering through the closed blinds in the window as your only guide, your mind was still drifting even though you should’ve been sleeping.

You couldn’t help yourself.  

You drew invisible patterns across his bare skin. Ben was warm, always warm, even though the AC was making the room almost frigid. You knew it was the ever-present radiator in his chest that made him your own personal heater.

You propped your head up better with an elbow on your pillow as you laid on your side. You then let your hand drift over every dip of muscle between his shoulders, every small freckle you knew just from memory, then down and down his spine.

You flirted with the idea of inching down the sheets, where his bare ass would greet you. From there, you supposed you'd decide what wandering direction your hand took next.

“If you don’t go to sleep,” his deep voice rumbled, “I’m gonna wake up and fuck you again.”

You bit your lip against a giggle, but you didn’t quite succeed.

“It sounds like you’re already awake,” you remarked.

Ben grumbled incoherently in response. He was tired, you knew. He’d just come back from a week-long mission with Butcher and Co. for Supe Affairs. Hence the long night you two spent catching up.

If you were honest, you were still tingling between your legs. Your thighs and ass were a little sore too. Likely they’d be sporting a few fingerprints tomorrow.

You didn't mind it so much though. You two now had a safe word for that kind of thing.

You smirked, sifting your fingers through his hair. It was getting long again. Maybe you’d trim it for him tomorrow, since you both had the weekend off.  

Your hand meandered down the back of his neck, just to begin dragging your nails up and down the slope of his back.

“What does that feel like to you?” you asked curiously. You often wondered how much his invulnerability affected the way he felt things, especially the way you touched him.

“Like a tease,” he muttered.

You applied some more pressure with your nails. Not the way you’d scored his back about an hour ago, when he’d had his sinful mouth all over your body, but enough to be more than a tease. Enough that it would’ve left an angry, red trail on your own “fragile” human skin.

Still, you weren’t able to leave any marks on him. Just a faint whiteness of pressure against his skin that soon returned to normal when you moved your hand away.

“How about that?” you asked.

“Like you’re playing with fucking fire,” Ben said, though you heard the smirk in his voice. “Go to sleep.”

You smiled too.

“We'll pick this up in the morning,” he made sure to add, though he was already halfway back to slumber, from the sound of it.

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, laughing lightly. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder. “G’night, babe.”

“Mhmm,” he responded.

He groaned deep in his throat and turned over onto his back. Your smile remained as your body tensed in anticipation, but all he did was slide an arm under your waist and curl you towards him, trapping you against his chest. His hand splayed against your lower back, heavy and warm.

His lips brushed your hair away from your forehead and lingered there. He closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale. You did the same, relaxing against him. Your hand came to rest against the steady thrum of his heart.

Moments like this with him still managed to surprise you…but admittedly, less and less the longer you lived and shared together.

A girl could get used to it though.

AN: Lol should she have pressed her luck? Let me know what you think of this one! 😉💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Next we have a fun, fluffy, angsty, smutty Christmas special, Love Actually:

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system.

▶️ Next Story: Love Actually

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

Including the BMD tag list on this, since that's what my heart was imagining. 😂

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @vavafaure1994 @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[waynes-multiverse]

Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY

Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH

A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)

Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)

Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles

Cruel Summer

“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”

As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.

But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.

“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.

Painfully hard.

“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.

“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.

“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”

Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.

Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.

I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.

Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.

Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.

Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.

On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.

A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.

But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.

Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.

Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.

“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.

A hunter gathering panties.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.

You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”

It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.

“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.

The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.

Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:

I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.

You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.

So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.

Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.

Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.

It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.

With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.

As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.

Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.

So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…

“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.

“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”

You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.

“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”

Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”

You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”

“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.

“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.

“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”

“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”

“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”

“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”

“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.

Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”

But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.

“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”

Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.

The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.

If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.

As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.

With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.

His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.

As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.

God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.

“Dean?!”

The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.

“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.

“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.

Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”

“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”

“Right, uhm…”

“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.

You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.

“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”

As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”

“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”

That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.

“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.

Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.

And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.

Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.

“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”

“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.

“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.

Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.

With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.

“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”

You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.

“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.

He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”

“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”

As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”

The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”

“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”

You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”

“Well, uhm…”

Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.

“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”

“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.

“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.

“You can do that,” you said with a smile.

“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”

You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”

Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.

“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.

You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”

“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.

“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”

“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.

He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.

You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.

“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”

Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”

Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.

With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.

“Hop on, sweetheart.”

And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.

Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.

The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).

And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.

As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.

With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.

His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.

Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.

You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.

As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.

“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.

Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”

Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?

But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”

You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.

“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.

You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”

Was it worth the words? 😝

For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥

PUT YOUR DIRTY THOUGHTS HERE

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey @deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies @agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @imsapphine @globetrotter28 @mxltifxnd0m @lacilou

[bunpuppe]

DEAN WINCHESTER──☆*:・ﾟlazy morning sex!!

tw/cw: somno!, sub(?)dean, fingering, p in v, cockwarming ❥ !!

SMUT UNDER THE CUT!!<3

Dean definitely wakes up with morning wood everyday. Sleeping next to you? Absolutely bricked up. He cant help it youre just so tempting when youre sleeping!!

Dean who wakes up, immediately feeling your ass against your already erect cock. Nose buried into your hair while he carefully maneuvers your panties to the side, just enough to stick his fingers in.

Dean teases your sensitive clit, softly rubbing it and ghosting over your slit. Your soft and sleepy whimpers not going unheard as he pushes two fingers in, wanting to make sure you were well lubricated before he fucked you.

His breath shakes as he slowly starts to move his wrist, making sure to press against that certain spot that makes you oh so sensitive. Dean quickens his pace, your sopping cunt squelching as his fingers move in and out of you. Based on your thighs shifting and your soft moans he decides youre ready.

Dean carefully removes his fingers and slides his boxers down just enough for his cock to spring out. Tip leaking precum just from pleasuring you. He grips your thigh and positions you comfortably before placing his grip on the base of his cock. Whimpering and shuddering from mere desperation.

As Dean rubs his leaky tip at your entrance he cant help the whines he lets out from the contact, tip sensitive. He slowly and painfully pushes himself into you, holding back a low growl as your pussy coats his cock in slick. You shuffle and squirm in your sleep, causing moans to elicit from both of you.

“F-fuck” He grunts, wrapping an arm around your waist and burying his face into your hair as he starts thrusting into you. Careful to maintain a slow pace to not disturb you, hips stuttering. He whines against your ear, unable to hold back. You stir in your sleep, trying to roll over but umable to do so.

As your eyes flutter open, you immediately feel Dean's cock stretching you open and lazily thrusting against your cervix. You whine and he shushes you, “Shh shh baby.. jus' needa be inside you so bad baby..” His nose nuzzled against your ear, face buried in your hair as his hips lazily slap into yours. You close your eyes, whining as Dean uses your cunt.

He's close, his pace increases a bit while he whines and groans into your ear. His grip around your waist tightens as he slams his hips into yours one last time nefore cumming. He shakily catches his breath and keeps his cock deep in your cunt, cum slightly oozing out at the base of your connected bodies.

Dean tiredly sighed, whimpering a “Love you s'much..” before drifting off to sleep, cock still nestled deep inside of you.

very lazy ending im so sorry

[pearlzier]

︵︵ DAY THREE ﹐ MIRROR SEX ☆

ᰍִ ꒰ KINKTOBER. ִ✧ㅤㅤ masterlist.

WARNINGS .ᐣ mirror sex. pwp. dirty talk. kinda mean!dean. afab!reader. p in v. dean doesn't pull out, dean cums in reader LMFAO.

NOTES .ᐣ uhhh what do u guys think of the layout, do u like it??? :3 tried somethin new!!!

"Y'CAN KEEP WHININ' ALL Y'WANT, but i told you to keep your eyes on the mirror, didn't i?" you whine and whimper when you feel dean's thrusts come to a stop. he'd been pistoning his hips against yours roughly, bucking them against your ass as his cock slid in and out of you in a steady pace. he would've kept going, if only you could just follow instructions and keep looking at yourself. he wanted you to see how good he could wreck you, make you a fuzzy mess by the time he was done.

and he couldn't make that point if you weren't even looking at yourself, could he? "s'not that hard to listen to me," he mutters, scoffing at the fact being full made you incapable of thinking properly. you let out a pathetic sound as his hand slides over your shoulder to grasp your jaw, your lips parting instantly with the squeeze and flex of his fingers that follows. it draws your attention up to the mirror and your eyes meet his green ones through the glass.

you look like a mess, hair mussed from being grabbed and tugged on by his hands—your legs trembling from having to hold yourself up. you don't have to worry about that one for much longer however, he's practically holding you up with his other hand whilst the other grasps at your jaw. "but, it's embarrassing—" you try to protest, voice whiny and weak. dean's eyes only darken more at that, and a soft smirk finds its way onto his lips.

"embarassin'?" he tuts quietly, thumb tracing over your bottom lip before he pulls on it a little and tugs it down, his head tilting. leaning his head in closer, he murmurs, "could make this a lot more embarassin' for you, baby, so i'd listen if i were you." forcing your head up, he coos, "that's better, let me see those pretty eyes. that's it." he thinks you look perfect like this, a mess because of him.

you scoff quietly, bottom lip trembling a little. your cunt clenches around nothing needily, missing the feel of him inside you. "mmh, i'm looking now, happy?" dean hums behind you, biting back a full on grin knowing you can see him in the mirror now that you're looking up. he rolls his shoulders in a shrug, lining himself back up with your cunt and sliding back inside with relative ease. you take him with no resistance, having grown used to being stuffed full of him.

"real happy," dean murmurs with a little roll of his hips, dragging his cock down your walls before pushing back up again. he repeats this a little, feeling your arousal start to drip down the length of him. with how he's propped the mirror up and how he's got the two of you positioned, he can see the way the head of his cock breaches your hole when he pulls back only to be buried to the hilt when he thrusts forward again. "looks like i ain't the only one," he grunts, shifting a little closer so the back of your thighs are flush against the front of his own.

all you can think, hear, see, is dean. he's right behind you, his hands are on you. he'd moved his hand from your jaw to grasp at your hips, so he could gain the leverage he needed to pound into you. you would've closed your eyes and felt the pleasure if it wasn't for the fact he'd stop if you weren't looking. now, you have to focus on the way his biceps flex from the pressure of holding you up or listen to the way he grunts and growls with every rock of his body up into yours.

it's embarassing for you, the way you whine and make loud noises because his dick is ramming into you and making your legs tremble. with ease, his hand slips down to circle your clit. "actin' like you don't get off on lookin' like a whore," he murmurs quietly, seeing the way you immediately squeal at the touch. you can't deny the fact you're just as into his as he is. even if using a mirror was completely his idea, you'd loved it from the moment he'd even brought it up once. needless to say, you didn't need much convincing to be bent over like this.

even still, you don't want to admit it. because that'll give him serious satisfaction to know that you like this as much as he does. the embarassment isn't all that awful, if anything, it makes you clench around him and coat his shaft with your juices. "i do—don't," you mumble, despite the fact you're sure you're about to cum from his movements and touches to your clit. he's practically drilling into you, considering the fact you hadn't looked away from the mirror for a whole now.

"yeah? you don't?" he asks, brow furrowing. he knows full well you're lying, because one, you're a shit liar when it comes to dean, and two, he can call your bluff from how you've been whining his name this whole time.

he reaches a hand out, leaving the one on your clit to continue circling and applying pressure to the bundle of nerves whilst the other grasps at your hair to tilt your head down to look further down at yourself in the mirror. it's a mixture of mess on your thighs, his pre-cum having oozed down the inside of the flesh and mixed with your wetness. your eyes widen a little and once again, you clench around him making him groan. "thinkin' y'can lie to me," for that, he only picks up the brutal pace further, the sound of skin against skin getting louder and practically bouncing off the thin walls of the motel.

the people in the other room can most definitely hear the two of you, but neither of you could, or would actually care. both of you are so close, he's sure he only needs a couple more strokes inside you 'til he's painting your thighs white with his cum—and you're sure you only need a few more thrusts till you're making a mess on him. "dean, nngh, oh.." and besides, you'd been relatively good for him this entire time, you're sure he won't make you hold off on your climax like he usually does when you've been acting up.

he's panting as he speaks, "look at yourself, baby," his hand moving off your clit whilst the other moves from your head to grasp at your hips again and drag you back down on him to meet his thrusts. "c'mon, that's it, look at yourself. lookin' so pretty takin' my cock like that. so warm, could stay here forever," you know he's close from how he keeps talking, needs to focus his mind on anything other than how his body tenses with the impending release.

"feels so good, looks so good," his hum that follows your words is a self assured sound. he knows how good it feels, looks, he gets to see you like this everytime he fucks you. but he's glad you get to see just how pretty you are when you're on the verge of climax like this. so, so pretty, whimpering and begging for him to go harder and make you cum. "gonna.. fuck, gonna come," you stammer, unable to hold off any longer. "can i? ca—can.. please," dean can't help but smile when you ask for permission like that, and he nods.

"yeah, sweetheart, go on," his eyes shut for a moment, breaking a rule he'd set for you. but really, neither of you care at the moment. you're both far too distracted at the moment to be paying attention to whether rules are being followed. "want you to watch how you look when you gush on my dick though, can you do that for me? for me?" he asks, his own tone the faintest bit begging. dean doesn't whine, or beg, don't get him wrong, but to watch you watch yourself as you come around him would get him that little bit over the edge.

"mmh, yeah, yeah—shit, nnh, like that.. gonna.." you gasp, thighs trembling and shaking as you have to grasp at the mirror to steady yourself. quickly, your eyes dart upwards to the glass to watch yourself too and you let out the prettiest moan at the sight. so fucked out, so dishevelled and messy. it's a perfect look on you. dean knows it too, he's grunting and growling the moment you lock eyes with yourself and eventually his thrusts start to stutter and become uneven.

"come with me, dean, please," you don't have ask twice, he's burying his head by the crook of your neck and biting, muffling his sounds as he rocks his hips forward that little bit more and gets over the edge. a warmth floods you, both from your orgasm and his own, and you feel so warm, his cock pulsing as his cum oozes out and fills you. the two of you stay like that for a moment, and you finally get to close your eyes, feeling the bliss and pleasure.

you hear a quiet murmur of his voice muffled against your skin, and you shift a little, his softening length still inside of you. "i said," dean speaks up a little, "we gotta do that again," and he means it. god, he'd do it again and again just to see the way you reacted to seeing yourself ruined by him. honestly? he was ready to go again right now.

ִ ֹ ★ @blue-d, @gibson-g1rl , @stevelacylovebot, @psychicnatural , @funkycoloured, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @soldierboycunt, @hrtsoldierboy, @beetlejenna, @venusiers , @v3nusasagrl , @imwetforyourmom, @pr3ttyf4wn, @pillwebb, @beridollie, @sl33pylilbunny , @sincerebabydoll, @angelicjackles, @deansbite, @beausling, @jasvtsc, @mattsdolll, @angelicp0etry, @cherrynflowergarden, @goofygooberspidey, @spookyysinsanity, @chrissdollie, @mgchaser, @yummycement, @gxldenlush, @morganwrites12672, @dayzeandhaze, @fallbhind, @jackleslvr. ꒱

[a1ecmcdowell]

( AFTERCARE ) . . .ㅤㅤTWO !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ─ ㅤㅤㅤㅤTHE new rock band in town has some nerve, causing mayhem in the venue next to your studio every night. but how do you stay MAD at the lead singer when he looks at you like that ?

PART TWO. should run for the hills !ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤincludes, proper introductions. sassy!reader. fictional locations. maybe improper ballet terminology. reminder that this is a slowburn!!

parts will get longer, probably, as relationship develops.

ㅤㅤㅤ─ word count: 1.4k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤprev partㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤmasterlistㅤㅤㅤ.ㅤㅤㅤnext partㅤㅤㅤ.

ㅤㅤA/N. this was going to be sm longer but i decided to split it up into two very sorry </3 it just feels right in my head! considering what the chapter titles are ... hehehe ( i am posting the masterlist today so u will see )

ㅤIT was routine at this point; getting out of class and heading to destiny dance studio before you made it home across the street. you practically couldn’t sleep without needing your muscles to feel like they were giving out first — so, like clockwork, there you were, again.

and there he was, again. 

he was a lot quieter — and much more reserved — when it was just the both of you. whether it was you leaving destiny, or about to head in, he was there at least once, a cigarette dangling from his plush, pink lips. 

he never spoke to you, though; never offered up the name of his, never made any effort to be anything besides the annoying lead singer of the band next door. all he did was watch, smoke curling around his mouth as his eyes drank you in. 

you passed him — an addition to your routine at this point — as you round the corner of destiny, key already having been plucked from your pocket. your hair was still tied in that tight bun from school that day, finding it easier to just wear it until dance practice rather than take it down and try to put it back up again. 

and all was the same, him lingering by the glass double doors of sunset blvd without so much as a breath in your direction… until, it wasn’t the same. his lips split as you stood outside in the chilly night, and for the first time in a week, words tumbled out of them.

“this place better be paying you for keepin’ ’em in business, at this rate,” he mutters, and on his exhale, the translucent gray smoke dances its way over to you.

you wave it away with your free hand, swatting at the dissipating smoke, and he’s got the audacity to stand there and laugh about it. his laugh is deep and throaty, probably rumbling in his lungs. 

“is something funny?” 

and there was that little quirk to his lips, dimples embedding his cheeks, as he turns that amused expression onto you. “you are such a prissy little thing,” he muses, fingers curled and tapping against one of his thick biceps. 

“because i don’t want to get secondhand smoke? makes me prissy?” the key is literally in the door, already twisted and unlocked. the only thing keeping you out here is that pull to him — the one that’s debilitating you from calling the cops on the band practically living in the abandoned building next to you. 

he shakes his head, one side of his nose and lip scrunching up as if he was thinking about it. “nah,” he says finally, “you’re a prissy little thing for many reasons, that’s just one of them, i think.”

you are bristling. this man who doesn’t even know you, is causing you more issues than anything related to dance in the last year, who could be in jail right now if you weren’t so generous— making assumptions about you like he had the right to? 

“i am not prissy,” you snap back at him, your words as venomous as a snake bite. you cross your arms firmly over your chest, your mouth puckered in a furious pout.

that just seems to make him even more amused; his leg falls from where it was braced on the brick wall behind him, letting his back collide with the wall as he snickers. 

“oh, and you’re proving it so damn well!” he exclaims, the sarcasm dripping from his words like the venom was dripping from yours. he drops the cigarette onto the ground, stomping its cherried end out with the toe of his boot. “standin’ there, fuckin’ pouting away… downright precious, lovebug.” 

lovebug, it seems, was your breaking point. something cracked like the facade of normalcy you were keeping up to maintain around him, and now he’d crossed that invisible line. or tried to, since you were finally yanking the key from the door to the studio, and stomping off inside. 

maybe, looking back on this moment, you would let yourself realize this moment for what it was. you would take the fact that, while you usually lock the door behind you, this time you didn’t. and you could blame it on your mind being preoccupied with your one-sided fury, but in reality, there wasn’t any way that it was an accident. 

there was that pull, and it sank its teeth into your unsuspecting skin. 

you’d only just sat your bag down on the ground by the entrance, just to the right of the balance beams, when the second set of footsteps starts to echo behind you. when the door latches for a second time. 

“so, this is the place that gets all of your attention,” his voice drawls, and you barely even get the moment to spin around, hardly even get your mouth open to tell him off, when he’s adding, “expected something raunchier.” 

your hands immediately fall on your hips, and he’d never admit it, but he thought it was adorable, and you’d never admit it, but you could tell what he was thinking just by the way his eyes fell to your clenched fingers around your waist.

“what the hell does that mean?” you ask, just as incredulously in your tone as your widened eyes were when they locked onto him. 

him, who stood there with nothing but a shit-eating grin on his face. his boots were going to scuff up the floor, and then how would you explain this? that the man staying illegally next door followed you, and you didn’t turn him away? 

“just the way you are,” he hums, shoulders lifting in another nonchalant shrug. “thought you’d have at least one filthy secret up in that pretty little head of yours, but… turns out you really are just a sweet little thing.” 

“i’m sorry, when did i start giving off the impression that you knew me, or that i wanted you to?” 

“i’ve always liked a challenge,” he pushes back, his large hands curling around the balance beam nearest to him, leaning over it like he was physically crossing the line that divided you both. “especially when they’re all dolled up like you are.” 

you decide, then, like a split second, rash decision, that the best method of dealing with him is to just ignore him. you bend at the knees to start to unzip your bag and pull loose your pointe shoes, and—

it’s almost indistinguishable. almost barely audible over the sound of her rifling around. but there it was; a sharp, guttural inhale. 

oh, jesus christ. “gonna have to give a man a little warning before you go getting on your knees for him,” his voice drawls, “not that i mind.” 

“i don’t even know your name,” you fire back, as if that’s the only comeback that you could even think of in your adrenaline-amped mind. he was getting to you, gnawing on your bones to the point of awareness, whittling you down. “and you’re standing there, accusing me of trying to—” 

“jensen,” he interrupts, his fingers tapping along the balance beam, trimmed nails scratching its wooden surface just enough for the sound to echo around the room, just like his voice. “and you never asked.” 

“i wasn’t ever planning on it,” you say, and you try to shoot him a glare from the ground, but all that does is make his eyes flare, bright and glimmering with something you didn’t even want to address. “was hoping you’d all be kicked out by now, so i never have to deal with you again.” 

his laugh is loud and echoing throughout the room, those dimples dipped into his cheeks as deep as his voice, the crinkles around his eyes only serving to make you angrier. 

“you would, huh? wish the worst for me?”

you don’t even dignify him with an answer. really, fueling whatever plan he had with following you in here was probably in your best interest. 

“don’t blame you,” he continues on anyways, as you’re kicking off your tennis shoes and lacing up the pointes, “i’d run for the hills too.” 

there’s something about how he says it, though, in that soft voice so at odds with the deep, rough one he usually bore, that makes you pause. not because you want to give him any more attention than he’s already gotten from you, but because of something far more concerning.  you didn’t want to run.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤFEEDBACK & REBLOGS APPRECIATED!! < 3

tags! @happyladyduck, @casatoan, @mo0nwalker, @manicjk, @stereotypicalbarbie, @inpraise0fbacchus, @fitxgrld !

support me ( n get early access! ) on patreon!<3

[figthoughts]

“that’s it, baby. taking me so well,” dean coos, slowly pushing his cock further into your mouth.

your eyes water as his tip brushes against the back of your throat, forcing you to hold back a gag as your fingernails dig into his thighs. he’s so big, you can barely breathe.

dean notices and smiles softly, “baby, you’re doing so good. c’mon, take it for me.”

he holds your jaw with one hand and gently rubs the back of your head with the other, trying to soothe you as he pushes the last of his member in, your nose brushing against the tuft of hair at his base.

you squeeze your eyes shut and try to breathe through your nose as you let out a soft groan, trying to adjust to his size.

dean lets out shuddered breath from the sensation and pulls his hips back to thrust, slowly moving them back in, his tip hitting the back of your throat with every movement.

you groan as tears spill down your cheeks and spit escapes your mouth, dripping down your lips and chin as you moan. your nails dig into his thighs more as your eyes stay shut.

“fuck,” he groans gutturally, “so fucking good, baby.”

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Call Interrupted

Summary: Jensen is on a call that seems to be stressing him out. Y/N has some ideas to help him de-stress.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. All smut. Oral (m receiving), unprotected PinV sex, slightly rough sex (it could just be classified as very energetic! 😉), very light spanking, very brief fingering, public sex if you squint.

Pairings: Jensen x Reader

Word Count: 1,358

A/N: So, sometimes my brain is just very unruly. I have a gazillion things I should be writing, requests that I'm so excited to get to, next chapters that I'm happy to continue with, etc. But did I write any of those this evening? No, of course not.

Instead, my stupid brain got caught up in a little conversation I was having with @suckitands33 about her post that I reblogged and added a few more pictures to. The conversation was regarding the picture of Jensen that I included in the title card above. That conversation wouldn't leave my brain, and this is what came out. It's all filth, of course. 😏 Enjoy! 🥰

The beautiful dividers here were created by @plum98

"I don't know, Shelia, what are the benefits?"

Jensen's voice was frustrated and stressed as you walked into his office and saw he was on a call. He had his AirPods in so it looked a bit like he was talking to himself. But he was obviously talking to his manager, Sheila. Discussing some upcoming projects, no doubt. 

You'd only come in to ask him what he wanted for dinner. But he seemed so stressed - his shoulders were rigid and he was holding his head in his hand - that dinner flew out the window. 

He needed some stress relief right now.

You walked towards his desk and he looked up and gave you a tight smile. You peered around his computer monitor to see if he was on a video call. But the monitor was black, so you were good to go. 

You spun him in his office chair so he was facing you instead of the desk. He gave you a quizzical look, but then you sank to your knees and reached for his zipper and the look became scorching hot. You got his zipper open and were reaching for the button on his jeans when he grabbed your wrist. He pointed a finger at his airpods, obviously telling you he was on a call. But you just shrugged and raised your free hand, putting a finger to your lips.

"Shh..." 

You pulled your wrist free of his slackened grip and unbuttoned him. You reached in and pulled out his heavy, half-hard cock, licking up the underside of it and making him clench his jaw and drop his head against the back of his tall, leather office chair.

You wasted no time in going down on him, bobbing your head up and down, quick and then slow. After a few minutes of alternating speeds, you wrapped your lips tight around the head of his cock, and sucked hard. He sank his teeth deep into his plump bottom lip as he fisted his hand in your hair.

Then you took him all the way in, letting him sink an inch or two down the back of your throat and then swallowing around him. His fist tightened in your hair and he pulled hard, as his other hand clenched into a fist that he pushed against his mouth as he tried desperately not to make a noise.

You came up off of him gasping slightly and slurping up the spit and come that still connected your lips to his cock.

You stood up and quickly shed your t-shirt and leggings. You wore no bra. You turned away from him as you pushed down your panties, bending over when they reached your ankles so you could pull them off, giving him a straight on view of your glistening cunt.

"Fuck." He groaned quietly. 

And then he spoke louder."No, no Sheila. I'm just uh...just thinking...it's good. Keep...keep going. I'm listening."

You giggled as you straightened up and walked over to him and climbed onto his lap, straddling him. You braced your hands on his thick, round shoulders and lined his cock up at your entrance. You nibbled on his lips as you sank down on him. It was almost impossible for both of you not to groan out the pleasure sweeping over your bodies. 

When you were fully seated on him, you began to unbutton his dark blue shirt, pressing your lips against every new inch of skin you revealed. 

When you licked his right nipple into your mouth and bit it gently he bucked his hips and you couldn't hold back anymore. You started raising yourself up and down slowly at first, but the exquisite stretch of his thick cock made you impatient, and you were soon riding him hard and fast.

You pushed your hands under his open shirt and gripped his shoulders again, using them as leverage to slam down on him. 

He squeezed your left breast in his hand and began to flick his tongue back and forth against your nipple. You sank your hand into his hair and moaned loudly. 

You slapped a hand over your mouth, but Jensen was quickly apologizing to Sheila.

"You know, Sheila, sorry," his voice was tight and incredibly strained, "sorry, I've gotta. There's like a weird, something with the call. I'm gonna have to call you back." 

He abruptly ended the call, slamming his hand down on the end button on his phone. He pulled his AirPods out, and you couldn’t help laughing. 

"Sorry, baby! I was trying to keep quiet."

Jensen gave a playful growl and easily pulled you off of him. He stood up and flipped you around, shoving his chair back, and quickly bending you over so you had to press your hands against the desk.

As you looked over your shoulder at him, he pushed his jeans all the way off and yanked his shirt off completely, positioning himself at your entrance. Before he sank into you, however, he brought his hand down with a soft slap to your ass; it was still hard enough to make it jiggle. You gasped and he reached over his body to slap your other cheek.

"Unh!" You grunted and dropped your head down to dangle between your arms where they were braced against the desk. 

Jensen spoke with a rough growl. "That was to punish you for disrupting an important phone call." He slammed himself into you, so deep you swore you could feel him in your throat.

He leaned down and slid his lips against the shell of your ear. "And this," he said moving in and out of you with a silky, languid rhythm, "is to thank you for it."

His thrusts were targeted, slowly sliding his cock along your convulsing walls to perfectly slam against your sweet spot. The pleasure was so thick that it was almost excruciating and you were soon begging him for more.

"Please, Jensen, harder, faster."

"Okay, baby." He placed kisses down your spine. "Hold on tight."

Your hands were flat against his desktop, and you tried to brace yourself there.

But he slammed into you so hard, your arms folded and you had to shove his keyboard and some papers out of the way so you could lay yourself across the desk.

He didn't stop, slamming against you so hard, you knew the fronts of your thighs would be bruised from the hard wooden desk. But you didn’t care, you wanted him to fuck you black and blue.

The coil low in your stomach was tightening and tightening until it finally exploded, making you scream and drag your nails over the desk uselessly, scratching at it without purchase.

Jensen still didn't stop, fucking you through your climax and the next one too, before he finally pushed his hands against your shoulder blades, crushing you into the desk while his hips pistoned forward, jackhammering into you until he let out a shout of ecstasy, shuddering and bucking into you over and over as he spurted hot and thick into your soaked cunt. 

His breath was hot and harsh against the back of your neck, until he finally moved to brace himself against the desk, slowly pulling out of you. He pulled his chair back over to him and sank into it so he could watch his cum slowly drip out of your pussy.

"Fuck." He swore, his voice ragged. He grabbed hold of you and pulled you back into his lap, turning you so you could rest your exhausted head against his shoulder. 

He let out a soft chuckle as he let his hand trail over your body, and up and down your legs. 

"Was this what you came in here for?"

You smiled and shook your head. "Actually, I wanted to know what you want for dinner. But you seemed stressed."

"Hmm." he said softly. "Well, mission accomplished. I'm not stressed anymore."

His smile was wicked as he ran his wandering hand over your pussy, sliding two thick fingers through the sloppy mess of your cunt. 

"And I definitely know what I want to eat."

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

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[wayward-dreamer]

Need

Square/s Filled: Mutual masturbation - @spnkinkevents​ 

Pairing: Jensen x Female!Reader 

Word count: 912

Summary: After a busy day on set, Jensen needs a little time with Y/N, even if they’re miles apart.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut: dirty talk, mutual masturbation, handjob, vaginal fingering.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

A/N: Hoping to get back into the swing of things a little more, so I’m going to be posting drabbles for a bit. Hope you all enjoy! :)

Jensen sighed as he walked into the apartment, throwing the keys on the table as he made his way into the kitchen. He opened the fridge, took out one of the bigger bottles of water and drank down two quarters of it before placing it back inside. The New Mexico summer was hot, nowhere near Texas level, but after working on set all day in the sun, he needed something to cool down. His eyes glanced around the empty studio, a frown settling on his face as he wished he had his girlfriend waiting for him once he got back rather than her being miles away in Austin.

He walked over to the bed, taking off his shoes and sitting back against the headboard, picking up his laptop to do some work before he decided to watch anything and distract from the things he was missing. His phone chiming had him reaching into his pocket, a smile instantly on his face as he saw who it was. Y/N had written “I miss you” with a selfie of her blowing him a kiss. His heart soared yet ached to know that she was thinking of him in that moment just as he was about her, and yet they wouldn’t see each other for a few more weeks.

I was just thinking about you. He replied.

Are you done for the day?

Yeah. Just got back.

He grinned as an incoming FaceTime call lit up his laptop screen, causing him to answer straight away.

“Hey,” she said, beaming as she saw him. “How was your day?”

“Long, tiring,” he replied, shaking his head. “Just glad I have a break tomorrow.”

She raised her eyebrows at that. “Really? So… you can stay up a little longer?”

He frowned, confused by what she meant before an amused smirk crossed his features. “What’re you up to?”

“Oh nothing…”

Just as the words left her mouth, she pulled the phone back, showing him that she was wearing his favorite lingerie on her. Hence why he always held back in tearing it off her.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, softly as he took her in. “You can’t do this to me when I can’t do anything about it.”

“Sure you can,” she stated, clearly placing the phone on the nightstand and shifting back on the bed.

She spread her legs apart, a mischievous grin on her face as her hand skimmed down her body, her fingers teasing over her covered mound.

“Fuck,” he whispered, watching every movement on the screen.

Slowly, she pulled down her panties, exposing herself to him and resuming her actions, a small moan escaping her as she felt her wetness against her fingers. Jensen bit down on his lip as he shifted against the bed, completely entranced by her every movement.

“Come on, baby,” she breathed, smiling. “Let me see you.”

He turned the laptop so she could get a better look at him, as he reached down and palmed himself through his jeans, feeling himself getting hard as he watched her. Slowly, he unzipped and pushed the material down along with his boxers, a gasp leaving her as she saw his length, the head of his cock thick and leaking pre-cum which she wished she could get a taste of.

“Fuck, I wish I could touch you,” she moaned, biting her lip. “You’re thinking about my hands aren’t you, baby?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Wrap your hand around that cock,” she instructed, her voice lowered into a sensual husk. “Imagine it’s mine stroking you, getting you nice and hard for me…”

He did as he was told, groaning as he pumped his hand along his shaft, his hips shifting against the mattress as he lost himself in the feeling. He opened his eyes, not wanting to miss any of her own pleasurable movements.

“You’re so wet for me, aren’t you, darlin’?” he asked, smirking.

She hummed, nodding as she met his gaze. “Wish it was your fingers, want them inside me, making me feel so good…”

“Rub your clit, sweetheart,” he ordered, his voice rough and deep. “Wanna see you cum on those fingers for me.”

She moaned as she circled her fingers around the swollen nub, her eyes never leaving his through the screen. They continued to tell each other what to do, what they wished they could do to each other if they were there. She thrust her fingers up to hit that sweet spot inside her, the one that he would reach every time and drive her absolutely wild when he did. His hand stroked as they both headed towards that blissful peak, moans and grunts escaping them.

They reached the edge together, his name on her lips as she felt her arousal soak her fingers, her name on his as spurts of his seed covered his hand as he came down from his high. They both looked at each other, content smiles on their faces as she picked up the phone, sighing as she laid back on the bed.

“That was amazing,” she started, as she gave him a pointed look. “But you’re not gonna make me wait another month to get it in person, are you?”

He chuckled, pulling his boxers up again, as he shared the same sentiment. He needed to see her as soon as he could manage to get away.

“Trust me, darlin’... after that, I’m gonna be there in a few days.”

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[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

→ premise: there existed no such cricumstances in which dean doesnt want your lips against his. bloodied, bruised, even with broken bones, a kiss from his girl makes it all better.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: tw: blood, fluff, but some sort of instense making out, established relationship, descriptions of blood and injuries, blood in mouth, nicknames [baby, sweetheart, my girl], reader is described a bit to have anxiety

→ a/n: as always i hope dean isn’t too out of character as i have never written for him! enjoy my loves :) and sorry its short.

A hunt had gone south they got the monster and it was done but Dean was injured, they were headed back to the bunker. That was all Sam spit out over the phone, normally you appreciated his ability to get straight to the point. Currently you were cursing it as he hung up shortly after cause he was the one driving back. You had a million and one questions running through your head and more than half of them weren’t good.

This was the part of the boys going off hunting and you staying back that you hated the most. When one of them got hurt or something went wrong and all you could do was sit there, a chill running down your spine as your blood boiled in your veins, anxiously pacing the living room, trying to not let yourself jump to the worst conclusions which you regularly failed to do.

You used to go on hunts with them and instead of you currently being the one riddled with anxiety, it was Dean. Once the two of you pulled your heads out of your asses (as Sam would say) and realized you’ve had feelings for each other for years, you got together. Being officially together seemed to make Dean's protective nature increase tenfold. He was even more terrified to lose you now than before. He began fussing over you whenever you'd get even the slightest scarpe or bump on a hunt. He would glue himself to your side the whole duration. Forcing you to normally stay back in the motel room when the hunt turned into a more dangerous situation than dean cared to put you in.

You loved Dean but it began to get a bit too tedious to deal with and even Sam made a comment on how overprotective he was being. In an attempt to make hunts go easier and ease your boyfriend's anxiety, once you all situated yourselfs in the bunker you suggested to him that you go out on hunts less, especially when they could now take Cas. Dean jumped at the suggestion but you couldn't blame him.

“I think that's a great idea baby” he said with a kiss to your forehead.

You still helped out, researching things when Sam needed the help, going through old books and files in the library, patching them up when they’d come back with cuts and bruises. You hadn't realized just how jittery you'd be however stuck in the bunker when he was out and especially when they went on far away hunts.

They'd go to the hospital when things were really bad, so you knew if the boys were on their way back then it couldn’t be too bad. The reminder did nothing to sooth your racing thoughts, your heart thumping so hard you could practically hear it pounding in your ears. You didn't know just how long you've been pacing back and forth, too afraid to look up at the clock and realize it's only been a few minutes since Sam called.

You don't hear the sound of baby pulling into the garage, your head is too clouded as you were damn near about to wear a grove down into the old floors. The sound of a door shutting loudly and two sets of heavy footsteps are heard down the hallway. Spinning so quickly on your feet you nearly lose your balance you turn to face the noise. Watching as the brothers emerge from the dark hall, Dean's arm rests on Sam's shoulder almost using him like a human crutch. You let out a small gasp making them stop and both of their eyes snap up to yours, weather you gasped in surprise at the state of your boyfriend or in relief you can’t tell.

“Hi sweetheart, We’re home” Dean tilts his head, his voice laced with his usual sarcasm and deep tone. He pushes off of Sam, clearly able to at least stand on his own, slowly making his way over to you a small limp in his step.

In the blink of an eye you’re rushing into his arms, your soft hands grabbing ahold of his beaten up face and crashing your lips against his. He grunts out a “fuck” in surprise or pain the word dying in his throat turning into a noise as his eyes fall shut and he grabs ahold of your hips. With a sharp tug he pulls your body as close as he can to his, his hands sliding up your sides. His bloodied lips against your plush ones, kissing you like a man starved, a kiss you’ve come accustomed to when he comes home from longer hunts. “Missed you” he hums in a hushed tone into the kiss for only you to hear, making your racing heart only speed up. His blood flows into your opened mouth as the kiss goes on, the metallic taste on your tongue foreign but you were far too relieved he was back in one piece to care about the blood coating your tongue.

Any pain Dean felt after the whole ordeal and from the bumpy ride back to the bunker seemed to fade from his body. He could care less about his brother's presence still in the room or the blood still dripping from his face and that covered his clothes or his split lip. It felt as if all the bruises that were forming on his body were already being kissed away as your soft lips slid against his. The taste of your mouth overcoming the taste of the blood in his, your scent calming his body, reminding him he's finally home again. Your body grounding him.

A rough deep cough stops the moment making the two of you reluctantly pull away, lips swollen and parted as you catch your breath.

“Before this gets any more R-rated maybe we should patch him up and you know clean him up” Sam suggested with a small light hearted chuckle as he walks off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You were grateful you remembered just yesterday that it had needed to be restocked. “Sorry Sammy” Dean calls after him, you turn your head away and follow up with a “Sorry not sorry” down the hall after him making a small smirk grow on your boyfriend's face.

Once he's out of eye sight, Dean grabs ahold of your face by lightly squeezing your cheeks and turns your head back to face him. Leaning down to begin softly kissing you again, groaning against your lips when the pain in his body begins to return.

“Who needs a first aid kit, all i need is my girl's kisses” He mumbled softly against your mouth, making you break out into a smile. A small tear slips down your cheek, your breath returning to your lungs and the chill in your spine fading as relief finally settled over your body knowing he's okay.

→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!

[zepskies]

More of This

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: Welcoming Russell home, where he belongs.  

AN: Here it is - bonus drabble time!~ This can be a stand-alone, but it’s really a snippet missing from Lost Time in the Every Second Counts-verse. Using the GIF above from 2x02 specifically for the hair flip. It did things to me... 😮‍💨 (But there are NO spoilers for 2x02).

Shoutout to @impala-dreamer who helped inspire this in our @jacklesversebingo chat. 😂

Word Count: 900

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smut and feels, small tinge of angst. Russell's hair. Tattoos. Everything really.

💜 Series Masterlist  

“Welcome home,” you whispered into his mouth.

All Russell could offer was a breathless sound, caught somewhere between an agreement and a groan of pleasure. He was being treated to a feast of the eyes as you rode him slow in the comfort and safety of your bed.

Your lips didn’t quite manage to connect with his in a kiss, with heavy breaths in between and a deliberate roll of your hips against his. He’d been letting you control the pace of him sheathing home with your every drawn-out thrust.

He was enjoying the show—your hair wild, your pupils blown wide with arousal, being able to palm at your breasts and tease your hardened nipples, kissing your flushed, dewy skin.

But you could feel him getting desperate. His hands moved down your body over soft curves, just for his fingers to squeeze into the flesh of your hips and ass, trying to ground himself in you. His eyes shut and his head fell back into the pillow. You bent down and fastened your lips to his neck, kissing and sucking hard there. He slid a hand up your back and buried it in your hair.

“Takin’ me so well, baby,” he said, his voice deep and rough, and a bit strained. “But you’re torturing me a little bit.”

You giggled breathlessly into his neck. Your tone was playful and coy when you replied, “What do you mean?”

You made a show of raising your hips, letting his hard length slide out of your wet heat all the way to the tip, before you slowly sunk back down. You shifted your hips along the way, until the thick head of him was nestled deep and pressing against your cervix. You both panted for breath. Even your arms were shaking while holding yourself above him.

“Yeah, think you’re trying to kill me,” Russell uttered. “Suppose there’s worse ways to go…”

“Fuck,” you muttered, releasing into a moan. The languid drag of his cock against your inner walls was good, but nowhere near enough at this point.

Maybe you were done teasing him, as well as yourself. Maybe you were done punishing him for taking one contract job after another, taking so long to get back, and making you worry about him and his safety. Your lips made their way back to his cheek, laying a sweeter kiss there.

“Okay.” You smiled against his skin. “How about you fuck me like it’s been three months, not three weeks. I wanna feel you come hot inside me—”

Russell wouldn’t even wait for you to finish the dirty whispers already setting his blood alight. His tattooed arm wrapped around your back and pulled you flush against his chest. He manhandled you seemingly without much effort, twisting you onto your back and having you laid out underneath him.

You let out a huff as your back met the mattress and made the springs squeak. Your head barely made it onto the pillow where his head had been, but your boyfriend wasted little time in grabbing your thighs and angling you just right, guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. (You didn’t need any encouragement.) He took you hard and deep, making sure he hit that sensitive spot inside you with every thrust.

You gasped and clung to his broad shoulders.

“Right there, sweetheart?” he said near your ear. His voice was rich and gravel. A shiver ran through your body, goaded along with every other sensation he was drawing out of you. You couldn’t even speak. Just a nod and a broken, desperate whimper. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip.

You were holding on for the rest of the ride. If nothing else, Russell had precision, and he was a master of his craft. And that was whatever he set his mind to.

His hand slipped between your bodies for a moment, his fingers searching, and finding, then massaging your swollen clit between thrusts. You cried out in his ear and damn near choked on your own breath, your nails biting into his shoulders. It didn’t take much longer for that tightening coil in your core to finally snap, your inner walls throbbing around his cock.

A curse and a ragged groan fell from his lips as his body locked up on him as well. You felt his body stiffen and the warmth of his release deep inside you. The sensation elicited another shiver down your spine.

You were on birth control, but it still made you feel a bit wild sometimes, whenever he came inside you. You relaxed underneath him with your knees bent, your thighs a soft cradle for his hips.

Russell kept himself upright with his forearms resting on either side of your head. His long hair had slid forward, the brown silky strands tickling your forehead as his panting breaths mingled with yours.

You attempted to brush some of his hair back behind his ears, but it fell forward again, tickling your nose. Russell allowed it on purpose, making you laugh lightly. He grinned in response, but he lowered further to capture your lips in a kiss. He didn’t mind this one being nice and slow.

Even when he parted from you, you still craved more of him. More of this.

You slipped a hand over his bearded cheek, an affectionate caress. A softer smile drew across his lips. He rested his forehead against yours, and he chuckled a little.

“It’s damn good to be home.”

AN: 🫣 Lol hope you enjoyed this one! ❤️‍🔥

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