#Jensen One Shot
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spnbaby-67 · 1 year ago
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Montana Stars
Just cute one shot between Beau Arlen and his girl, Y/N.
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No warnings needed other than Beau being adorable.
Under the Montana skies, Sheriff Beau Arlen and Y/N found themselves on a date night to remember. They sat on a cozy blanket, gazing up at the starlit sky. The air was crisp, and the only sounds were the gentle rustling of leaves and the distant murmur of a nearby stream.
Beau turned to her, smiling, "Y/N, I can't believe we finally made it out here. I almost forgot how It's so peaceful."
Y/N, nestled closer to the handsome cowboy, "It's perfect, Beau. Just like you said it would be."
Just then, he reached for Y/N's hand, fingers intertwining as they continued to admire the stars.
Breaking the silence, Beau whispered, "You know, my granddaddy used to tell me stories about these stars. He said each one had a story to tell, and if you listened closely enough, you could hear it."
"Really? What kind of stories?" With curiosity, y/n looked at him.
"Well, let's see... That one," he pointed to a bright star, "he always said that's the guardian star. It watches over us and keeps us safe."
She found herself following his finger as he pointed to the star. While she gazed at the brightest one."That's beautiful, what about that one?"
Beau smirked, "Ah, that one's the mischief-maker. It's said to be responsible for all the unexpected kisses under the Montana skies."
Y/N giggled as she turned to face him. "Is that so?"
He whispered as their eyes locked on each other, "You bet. But you know, those stars have been awful quiet tonight."
Y/N felt herself blushing, "Maybe they're waiting for the right moment."
The moment was perfect, the Montana skies serving as their backdrop, and the stars, their silent witnesses. In that embrace, Beau Arlen and Y/N shared a magical night under the stars, where words weren't always necessary to convey their feelings.
@deans-baby-momma
@jackles010378
@nancymcl
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spnfanficpond · 6 months ago
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) RPF Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jeffrey Dean Morgan Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Tahmoh Penikett, Mark Sheppard, Christopher Heyerdahl, Original Non-Human Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Protective Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Creature Jensen Ackles, Top Jeffrey Dean Morgan, Bottom Jensen Ackles, Shapeshifting, Faithful Steed, Best Birthday Gift Ever!, Mpreg, Revenge, Or Justice, Love, Schmoop, Jeffrey's The Good Guy, Mystery to be solved, Canon-Typical Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Eventual Happy Ending Series: Part 3 of The 2023 Birthday Collection Summary:
Jeffrey, the fairly benevolent warlord, is beginning to feel his age when he is invited to an introduction, that might lead to the possibility to cease some of the hostilities. However, it proves to be a trap. A young man named Jensen helps to free him, but in the turmoil of the escape they are separated, or so Jeffrey thinks. Could it be that Jensen is closer to him than he knows? Will this be the best birthday ever?
*****
Written for Jeffrey's 57th birthday. Part of the series, but it is a stand-alone story.
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deansbeer · 2 months ago
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୨ৎ ﹒ DEAN eatin' you out like a man who's starved. mhm. 🤰🏻
⎯⎯ warning(s) smut | oral sex ( F RECEIVING ) | pussy slapping | dean is a fuckin' tease but wbk | mild degradation | edging | rough sex | praise kink | DOM!DEAN | dean's a lil freak 'n loves when reader begs for him. ఌ︎ EIGHTEEN PLUS! ADULT CONTENT | minors do NOT interact.
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it's supposed to be a lazy day. nothing to do, nowhere to go, just the two of you tangled in bed. but DEAN has never been able to keep his hands to himself when it comes to you. and now, you're spread out underneath him, a complete mess, his broad shoulders keeping your thighs pinned wide as his mouth works you over like it's his favorite fucking meal.
"dean—fuck, i can't," you whimper, your hands gripping at the sheets as his tongue flicks over your clit, slow and deliberate. he's been at it for what feels like forever, switching between sucking, licking, and teasing until you're trembling, your body so sensitive you can't think straight.
he pulls back just enough to look up at you, and the cocky grin on his face makes your stomach flip. "can't?" he repeats, his voice low and playful. "nah, baby, you can. you're gonna."
you start to protest, but the words die in your throat when his fingers slide into you, curling just right, and his mouth is back on you, relentless. your hips buck against him, trying to escape the overwhelming pleasure, but his free hand presses down on your stomach to keep you in place.
"DEAN!" you cry out, your voice breaking, and that's when he does it—pulls his mouth away just enough to slap your pussy. not too hard, but enough to make you yelp, your whole body jolting at the sharp sting.
"shit," he groans, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he watches you squirm. "look at you, darlin'. so fuckin' pretty when you're like this. all worked up f'me."
"you're such an ass," you pant, glaring at him, but the heat in your voice is undercut by the way your hips roll, seeking more of his touch.
he smirks, his fingers sliding out of you only to deliver another quick slap to your slick folds, and you gasp, your back arching off the bed. "yeah?" he teases, leaning down to press a kiss to your inner thigh. "an ass who's got you drippin' all over the fuckin' sheets, baby."
"de, please," you whine, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. more of his mouth, his fingers, his cock—anything, everything.
"please what, baby?" he murmurs, kissing his way back up your body until he's hovering over you, his cock hard and heavy against your thigh. "tell me what ya want."
"you," you manage, your voice shaking. "just fuck me already."
his grin widens, and he leans down to kiss you, slow and filthy, letting you taste yourself on his lips. "thought you'd never ask," he mutters, lining himself up and sliding into you in one smooth thrust.
and just like that, your lazy day is anything but. <3
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artyandink · 1 month ago
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libidinal
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If Dean could curse every witch on this planet for dosing you and him with an aphrodisiac after ganking them, he would. His entire body was on fire— burning, and his mind was embarrassingly stuck on you. You, your thighs, lips, your ass. It all rattled about in his head like a broken record, and he craved you, craved the relief like crazy.
He knew that you were feeling the same things he was right now, the ache, burn, relentless want that you just couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried. Ugh, you needed him. Like you’d die if you didn’t have him. Dean felt the same damn way — trust him — like one touch and he’d break the damn best friend code of conduct.
You’d think both of you would have more control of yourselves, considering how you were both hunters who’d faced stuff like vampires and shit. "This is gettin’ on my nerves, sweetheart," he scoffed, eyes fluttering up and down you. You were too hot for this world— and that wasn’t just the pollen talking, but his drugged up mind couldn’t stop.
"Fuck this." he slowly took off his sweat-soaked shirt, looking for signs that you’d jump him. Dean rubbed the sweat off his chest, having no damn right to look that jacked and edible right now, ugh. He can't take all of this crap, including being quarantined in this damn motel room by Sam. It’s for a reason, though.
He groaned, aching, desperate, gesturing for you to keep away so he could resist this damned pollen’s effects. "Oh, m’ gonna kill Sammy if he doesn’t find a cure for this stat." Dean covered his ears, yeah, no. He acted as if covering his ears and blocking out all noise would stop the ache for you, well, it sure didn’t.
Pacing back and forth, he took one look at you— nope, look away, you looked too hot, nope. "Yeah, I’ll kill him." He winced when he got a very R-rated image in his head— he was desperate for you, you, for some relief, mainly sex.
He felt like every second without his hands on your ass was torture— he hoped he wouldn’t go to hell.
“Oh, I’m fine.” You breathed, sarcastic, giving him a look with raised eyebrows. “Just — you know — feeling like my body’s burning alive, I’m sweatin’, my brain hurts.” Your eyes were hungrily searching his bare chest, biting your lip— no, stop, even if you felt on fire and were sweating buckets.
“You’re clearly not,” he retorted. He would’ve found it funny that you were checking him out, but the need was so overwhelming, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from throwing you onto the nearest surface.
“So… no need to be sarcastic. M’ just trying to control myself.” He muttered under his breath, crossing his arms and keeping the distance between you. “Can’t say the same for you though, sweetheart, ‘cause I can see ya gawkin’.”
“Yeah, just quit it, you look like a five star buffet. A girl can’t help herself when she’s drugged up on an aphrodisiac.” You groaned, dabbing your sweaty-ass neck with a towel, not able to help the way your eyes hungrily drank in his chest. “I’m makin’ do with the view I’ve got while my pussy’s yellin’ at me right now.”
“Christ, darlin’.” He muttered. He felt all fuzzy inside when you said that, he hated how hungry the damn pollen made him for you, for your body. Dean’s eyes darkened, taking in the way you kept looking at him, how you were yearning for him like he was with you. His fingers gripped on the chair he was sitting on, and he leaned forward— he needed to stay on the damn chair.
“And what kinda things is it tellin’ you, hm?” He asked, voice lowering, growling almost. His cock was telling him to go over there, moan in your ear as he thrusted into you, that’s what— but he had to deny himself of such luxurious pleasures. How great.
“To throw away all sense of modern feminism and let you fuck me hard on the floor.” You breathed, moaning softly at getting the words out. “Or letting you bend me over the table. Eat me out on the bed, take me from behind on said bed.” Another desperate moan.
Shit.
Dean almost groaned out loud, damn you. You were going to be the death of him. He was so damn hard right now, and he gripped even tighter on the chair, he would break it if he wasn’t careful.
“Sweet girl, I know you’re not talkin' about feminism when you got your hungry eyes all over me right damn now.” He bit out, clenching his jaw. Dean couldn’t help the fantasies that were running through his mind, especially when you let those moans out.
“I know.” You murmured, nodding, levelling the playing field and taking your shirt off too, leaning back against the bed’s headboard. Shit. Your skin that glistened with sweat, glowing more in the shitty motel light, tits now on display for his hungry-ass eyes. Your head tipped back, eyebrows pinched together tight, lips parted ever so slightly. Shit.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered, eyes drinking in that perfect body of yours like a man who hadn’t had a drop of water in years. He’d seen you in a bikini before and almost lost it, but this view, this view was a sight for sore eyes. One that he was now staring at shamelessly.
His mouth hung agape as his eyes traveled from your chest to your face, he was desperate — all for you. “What’re you gettin’ at?” He asked, voice low and ragged.
“That I’m hot too. A woman can exist with her shirt off.” You scoffed, thighs rubbing together for any friction. C’mon, fuck, you got nothing— guess Dean’s cock was the answer, but not fucking your friend was the first cardinal rule of maintaining a best-friendship. “Oh, I’m gonna kill those witches even if they’re in the afterlife. I—” You let out a small whimper of frustration, the ache building. “God damn.”
“Damn right you’re hot, sweetheart.” he muttered, eyes locked to your thighs, practically drooling— maybe he wasn’t talking about the heat both of you were burning under. Dean’s tongue darted out and wet his dry lips, watching you as you rubbed your thighs against one another for friction. Damn it, it should be him being that friction, if that even made sense— he didn’t know, his brain was sludge. “I know, baby girl, m’ feelin’ what you are, I get it.”
He wanted to reach out and touch you so bad, but he had to get a grip. Sam could come back with a cure— maybe. Could he wait that long? Probably not.
You, however, simply did not have the patience nor the fucks to deal with Sam and his annoying lateness— you needed your best friend, he needed you, you had two holes he could put his dick into — you weren’t doing ass stuff on the first fuck — so it’s a win-win. “Dean, fuck this cure.” You whined, breath hitching as you yanked your sweats down, panties going with, pussy leaking and aching and so very empty. “Can’t wait, I can’t— c’mere. Fuck me, c’mere.”
Ok— yeah— yes, ma’am.
The sight had his eyes getting dark, nearly feral as he quickly stood up from his chair. The chair fell backwards and made a loud thud against the floor, but he couldn’t care less— not when you looked so damn delectable on the bed in front of him. Dean took quick steps towards you, practically ripping off the rest of his shirt.
He kneeled on the bed in front of you, practically pinning you to the bed. He couldn’t help himself. “M’ here, I’m here. Tell me what you want.” He huffed out, hips already bucking against the bed, moaning at the friction as he kissed over your bare tits and up your neck, licking up your neck, sweat on his tongue— yes, it’s disgusting, but he’d ponder on that in retrospect, right now he felt like an animal.
You guided his hand between your legs then kissed him, hotly, hungry, your lips devouring his, hand on the back of his head keeping him there. It was like a dam had broken, your breath harsh and heavy against his lips.
He grunted into the kiss, eyes slipping shut against the onslaught of your lips against his. His hand easily found its way down to you, the second you pushed him where you wanted him. God, his hand ached to be between your thighs.
“M’ here,” he breathed in between hot kisses. “M’ here, sweetheart, I gotcha.” The words were muffled, breathless, as he pushed your thighs apart, finding your wetness, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head. God, he was starved for you, as you were for him, it felt frantic, hazy, like relief that he was finally touching your skin that would go away instantly, as it wasn’t enough. Your scent had his eyes actually rolling back for a second, a pant and a whine leaving his mouth in quick succession as his free hand pushed sweaty hair out of your face, his own spiky from your hand running through it.
He ground his cock against the bed, feeling himself leaking — as were you — and these touches alone honestly had him feeling like he could embarrass himself right here, and come in his pants like a teenager before even getting the chance to fuck you properly.
You nodded against his lips, practically gone and inattentive to anything but him, leaning more of your body weight back against the headboard and pulling — yanking — him with you, panting, desperate. “Need you, baby, please.”
Oh, he needed you too, baby girl.
“Need you too, gorgeous.” he panted, letting you push him around between your legs and wiping sweat off his forehead briefly, wiping that hand on the sheets— shit, that left a pretty dark mark. He bit down on your bottom lip, groaning into the kiss. God, you looked so pretty, so needy and desperate, and you were all for him. He needed to mark you in some way, make you his in every possible way. He needed to.
“You need me inside this pretty pussy, baby?” He asked, his hand already gliding over your slickness, his eyes locked on yours. His fingers pushed inside you, a moan leaving both your mouths as he felt the lack of resistance on your cunt’s part, and how it sucked his fingers in — fuck, you were tight — and he worked your bra off so he could suck and flick his tongue against your nipples one at a time, moaning against the softness of your tits— mmh, that felt so good.
You nodded frantically, cause fuck yeah, moaning, lips still pressed to his as the pressure had you whimpering in relief. “Yes— yes, baby, d-don’t you stop, ok? God, feels so good.”
“I won’t, wasn’t plannin’ on it, baby doll.” he grumbled against your lips. He didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon, not when you felt this good around his fingers, when you sounded so damn pretty.
“Christ, I need you.” His words were nearly a whisper as he pushed down his jeans and boxers. He was so hard, so desperate for you, that he couldn’t hold back anymore. “You ready, baby?” Well, he certainly was, let’s put it that way. He’d been grinding on the bed the whole time he was on top of you.
“So ready.” You nodded, kissing him desperately, hotly again, panting, whimpering, the works. God, you felt like you were on fire, like it wouldn’t stop until you had him— it felt almost primal. Why wouldn’t you be ready, though? You weren’t a woman if you didn’t get soaked for Dean Winchester.
“M’ gonna take care of you, baby girl, I will.” He muttered against your lips, taking deep breaths. The words came out in a near growl and a grunt, he was hungry for you, starved, so he’d let you kiss him breathless, and he’d kiss you back just as fiercely as you.
He needed to give you the relief you needed, the pleasure, the release. He still rubbed at your pussy, all while he continued kissing you, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip.
You moaned against his lips, nails raking down his back, leg hooking over his hip— fuck the cure, fuck Sammy (though the poor guy deserves more credit), you just needed this right now, you felt like you could explode. Spontaneously combust. Lit match to gasoline. “God, don’t wait.”
“I won’t wait. Not anymore.” He grunted as he felt your nails dig into his skin, and your legs wrapped around him. He was so desperate to be inside you, and the sight of you just beneath him, the sounds coming out of your mouth, they just made him throb.
“I got you, I’m gonna take care of you baby doll, m’ gonna take care of you real good.” He panted against your neck, biting down on the skin as he slid into you, his mouth dropping open at the pure relief.
Your head fell back, a long, drawn moan leaving your mouth— you swore it felt like a cooling balm had been slapped on your bodies, or ice cold water. It just felt like a splash of pure relief, and you couldn’t stop chasing it, it felt like euphoria. “Shitfuck.”
“Oh, god,” he groaned, groaned, eyes squeezed shut. He hadn’t felt relief like this in so long, and your moans were like a damn symphony to his ears. He nearly felt like he was in heaven, that you were an angel.
“You’re so perfect — perfect.” He panted against your skin, placing kisses against your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder, as he found a pace. “Feels so good, darlin’, good girl.” It took all the effort in the world for him to not just lose himself and start pounding into you, just to say.
Good girl? You could’ve come right there. Squirted, even.
But no. Your leg hitched higher on his hip, clutching at his shoulder and at the headboard, your forehead pinched, eyes closed as you just felt it, couldn’t stop feeling, desperately letting shameless moans slip past your lips— as if you could control those.
“Yeah, that’s it — give it to me, baby.” he panted, his eyes taking in the sight of you, how you were falling apart. “Take it, take it all, just let me do all the work, yeah, good girl.” One of his hands trailed down your body, to the back of your thigh, holding it up, using it as leverage to push into you.
He wouldn’t last long, he couldn’t. Not with the sounds coming out of your mouth, the way you looked. “You’re so damn pretty when you give it up, baby.”
“Dean,” You couldn’t help but moan, over and over, paired with the occasional shameless “yes”, eventually bringing him in for a hungry, sloppy kiss, feeling the pendant on his necklace cool against your skin.
“Ah—” he groaned against your lips, his kisses almost violent, more teeth than tongue than anything else. God, his name on your pretty lips was sinful, but he wanted to hear it again and again.
His hands continued to touch you everywhere they could, not missing a curve or angle, and just taking in the pure ecstasy of it all. “You look so perfect like this — all for me.” he panted against you, the coolness of the amulet was almost refreshing against his over-heated skin, he’ll had to admit, and seeing it between your tits? God, another bonus.
Ooh, an idea. You used your leg hooked around his waist, plus some hunter training, rolling you both over, immediately gripping the shitty-ass fabric and plush of the pillow so you could begin to move up and down, hitting that angle without missing a beat. “Sh—Shit.”
Oh, oh wow, he had to take a few deep breaths. He didn’t expect you to suddenly roll the two of you over but he certainly wasn’t complaining. You looked so damn perfect on top of him, like a goddamn dream. He gripped onto your hips, helping you move, a moan leaving his lips as you kept up the pace.
“That’s it baby doll, good girl—“ he couldn’t help but babble. “Can’t keep my hands off you.” He panted, staring up at you. “Doing all the work, look at you— I ain’t gonna last, sweetheart, please tell me you’re almost there.”
“M’ almost there.” The sentence came out as a moan, seeing him in his glory, amulet on his chest, all ridges of muscle and soft skin, your other hand gripping the headboard as you moved, assisted by his hands on your hips, calloused pads of his fingers pressing into your skin. “P—Please, baby, a—almost there, so, so close—”
“Just— just come with me, please— please—” He panted, his hands gripping your hips so tight, he knew that he’d leave marks, but he’d deal with it later. Right at that moment, he was just lost in the feeling.
“Come on, give it to me, baby, I wanna see it, wanna feel it.” He was desperate, but a gentleman, he wanted you to reach it first. You were absolutely too gorgeous for words, and he was nearly going feral— his mouth went dry. “Good girl, good girl, good girl, c’mon — oh, c’mon—”
The coil in your stomach snapped as you came, pure, unbridled euphoria and uninhibited ecstasy, your eyes rolling back, hips stuttering and pressing into his hands as your thighs shook, but you kept on to get him there. “O-Oh, baby, c-c’mon, Dean, please— please—”
Sweet mother of god.
Your voice, your movements, your face, it all just pushed him over that final edge, and a loud moan tore out of his throat as he rode it out. “God, baby doll, god—” was all he could manage.
He didn’t even realise his eyes fluttered shut. He was panting heavily, his chest rising and falling, the amulet resting gently between his pectorals. “Oh god, baby girl, c’mere— come here.” He muttered, hands gripping your hips, pulling you down. He just wanted to feel you against him— wait, what? The burn wasn’t going, it just wasn’t.
“Dean.” You whined, letting out a frustrated moan. “S’wasn’t enough, I can still feel it. Still feel it, baby.” You panted, keeping yourself up. Well, of course this thing wasn’t a one-and-done. You already broke all the cardinal rules of friendship without compunction, but now you had to do it again? Wow. Great going.
“I know sweetheart, I know.” He breathed, eyes opening, and looking up at you, the corners of his lips slightly turned up. He could feel it too, it was like something was missing, and he didn’t know what it was.
He pulled you down, and held you against his chest as he caught his breath. One of his hands moved to the side of your face, and he gently guided you into a soft kiss, the other hand moving down and squeezing your ass. “God, I need you so goddamn much.”
“Mhmm. Need you too.” You whined, your kisses becoming more insistent, needier— ok, don’t blame you, it seems to affect women more. “Can you— need you t’ take over, Dean.”
A small smirk appeared on his lips as you began to become more needy. “Don’t mind if I do, sweetheart.” He growled against your lips. He pushed you off of him, and rolled the two of you over, so you were now beneath him again, and his body was above yours.
“You want me to take over, huh?” He questioned, his lips moving to your neck, leaving nips and open-mouthed kisses over the skin. “You want me to take care of you?” His hips started snapping against you, a groan leaving his lips, cause oh, Jesus.
Woah, ok, you could get used to this. Especially with how you moaned, nodding desperately, leaving red marks on his shoulders and arms, his amulet touching the valley of your now bouncing tits with every thrust again, head tipping back as his cock brushed your cervix, hearing his grunts and pants in your ear mixed with your moans.
He couldn’t help the smirk that stayed on his lips as you clawed at his skin. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? You like it when I take care of you?” He questioned, his mouth against your neck, his hips snapping against you, desperate to hear the pretty sounds leaving your lips.
“Tell me how much you like it, baby girl, go on.” His words were punctuated by a sharp bite to your shoulder, the other hand gripping your hip.
“Love it, Dean, fuck.” You gasped, your eyes rolling back, the knot in your stomach coming faster this time, scratching at his hips, the hot-ass dip in his back— anything you could reach, really, you weren’t picky.
“That’s it baby girl, there you go—“ he panted, his hips thrusting against yours, just pushing you closer and closer, his mouth against your skin still, leaving open-mouthed kisses and harsh bites.
The sounds you were making were just pushing him closer and closer, he was just desperate for you, and he couldn’t control the words that blurted out of his mouth. “God, you look so damn perfect baby, so damn pretty, so much better than I ever dreamed—“ Sure, he just revealed that he’d thought about this, but he still put your legs over his shoulders, leaning forward, splitting you in half and thrusting into you.
The new angle made your mouth fall open in a perfect ‘o’, and the feeling just overwhelmed your brain, made your body go positively wild, and you could swear some drool dribbled from the corner of your mouth. “D-Dean—”
Christ, he’s never seen anything so pretty.
He groaned as he took in the sight of you, your legs over his shoulders. “You like that, huh? You like it when I—“ his words were cut off with a strangled moan, you were just so perfect, he was never going to be able to get enough.
He managed to make a few more noises, some of them resembling your name, before he just dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “Baby— baby, need to come again in you, can I?“
You made a noise that sounded like a moaned yes, and you’d never known that being split in half by a guy would ever feel this good, your hands braced on the underside of your thighs. Well, that was a confirmation.
He groaned as he felt you nod against his shoulder, words being lost on him after that. That was a yes, a good, proper yes. He didn’t even know what he was saying, all that he knew was that he needed to give you it. So he just gave it to you hard, and fast, not letting up an inch. “Good girl, good girl, you’re doing so good, taking it so well, baby doll—” all the while, he panted against your skin.
He groaned against your skin, his mouth pressed to your shoulder. Hearing that, feeling you around him, he was done for, he was gone— “Yeah, baby, oh, you’re so good, so good, feels so damn good, I’m coming baby, I’m gonna—“
He let out a strangled moan, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode it out, burying his face into the crook of your neck, panting, grunting, smoothing your hair back as he spilled into you with a low moan.
You stroked his hair, helping him come down from it, feeling tired out— I mean, at least the pollen’s fucked out, right? Just… you hated witches now. You get Dean’s point— you didn’t before, but now you do.
He let out a weary groan, breathing still laboured and his skin was still flushed. When he came to and registered that you were stroking his hair, he let his head fall onto your chest, his head against your tits. Mm, like a pillow, feels s’nice.
“God, that was intense.” He whispered against your skin. “You okay, sweetheart?” He was spent, absolutely boneless and limp, and just content to lay there and bask in the aftermath of what you’d just done.
“Better than before.” You breathed, nodding, rubbing your cheek. “S’ not as sore as I thought it’d be, if I’m bein’ honest. But now I get why you hate witches.”
He let out a chuckle, which just sounds more like a quiet scoff, and he lifted his head up to look at you, a slight smirk on his lips. “Oh yeah? You get it now, huh?” His head returned to its original position after a few moments, and he nuzzled against you, an arm wrapping around your waist. “Not sore, huh? I didn’t go too hard on ya, did I?”
“No, but, uh…” You grinned cheekily. “Being carried to the bath would be much appreciated.” Oh, the little shit.
Of course.
He lifted his head to look at you, an entertained and amused look on his face. “Oh, you’re gonna be real cute, aren’t you?” He questioned, and then in a quick movement, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you against his chest.
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@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester
@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27
@lyarr24 @ximm19
@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester
@cheynovak
special tags for my boos: @jasvtsc @deanswidow @beausling @titsout4nicholas @figthoughts
@deansbite
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lostalioth · 4 months ago
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𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬
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→ 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.
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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.
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→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!
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floralscented · 2 months ago
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dean winchester x angel!reader — innocence is a virtue.
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or, how on earth is he supposed to corrupt you? you? or, dean's newest passenger princess is killing him slowly and violently.
cw, fluff but with sexual elements. mostly fluffy though. reckless driving DO NOTTT do this!! professionals only!! dirty minded!dean. honestly just horny!dean really. innuendos galore.
word count : 2.9k
notes, guys can i be so honest i have not even gotten to the seasons where angels come into spn. this is all based on the lil bits n pieces i know of the future stuff ok. ik i'm a fraud but BE GENTLE IF IT'S OOC OR ANYTHING < /3
req. by anon & in honor of kas's dean & angel fics bc i LOVEEE them
★ ˚⋆
dean, honestly, had never met someone quite like you. when he'd told cas in passing that he was about the most naive, innocent thing he'd ever met, all he did was give him one of those looks he reserved only for dean. he thought, then, that it was just because he was being a bit of a shithead, and cas was telling him without telling him so.
very quickly, he found out how wrong he was about both of his assessments.
the day you came down to earth and graced everyone, literally, with your presence, dean was smitten. never before had he met someone so sweet. so honestly pure. until you, he thought that purity was nothing but an ideology based on impossible feats. a pipe dream and a half for the faithful. no, the reality was that he just hadn't met you yet.
sam was pouring himself into research, too focused to realize that dean was all but whittling away in his starvation, so when he offered to go grab some cheap shit from the diner a few minutes from the motel, all he got in response was a mumble of agreement and a wave of his hand from him.
but you, who'd been sitting on the motel bed, stiff as if you had something stuck up your ass holding you in place, turned to him and asked to come with. that struck dean off kilter immediately, because he hadn't been asked for anything in a long ass while. sam just usually assumed he'd be writing shotgun wherever they went. john — no, he'd never ask his son anything, usually buried that sentiment in harsh demands and orders. cas asked him lots of questions, but permission was not often one of them.
and when he looked at you, read over your features and saw the genuineness in your wide, expectant eyes... god, how could he say no?
so you sat there in the passenger seat. dean had to buckle you in with a joke that flew right over your head — another joke you would not get, even though he was fucking killing it with them right now — about not wanting to send you flying if they got into a wreck.
you proceeded to unbuckle and buckle and unbuckle again a few times, seemingly fascinated with the click of the mechanism. dean wanted to be annoyed. genuinely. if sam had started pulling this shit, dean would have pulled over and drove a few feet ahead as a warning to cut it the fuck out.
but with you, it was adorable in its own right. god, it was! somehow it surprised you, every time it clicked, even if you'd already done it eight times. like, how did anyone expect him to get pissy at you when you were doing those sharp, surprised gasps every few seconds? a few more times and he'd be pulling over to give you something to gasp at, he thought idly.
and then winced, scrunching up his face, when he realized how deep in the gutter his head was. no, he wouldn't touch you. wouldn't even try to plant that idea in your pretty little head.
dean didn't want to corrupt you. if there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he wanted to keep that pretty little head as clear as his nose was, alright? he wasn't going to be the one to break you into what this world was, its hardships and its cruelties — and its more deviant pleasures.
but fuck, you made it so hard to keep his head straight.
you did this thing, he realized too, on that silent, clicky drive, where you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth when you were in deep thought. thought about what, fuck if he knew, because if you said something to him in the moments that he watched you do it, he'd never know. he was watching your mouth but not to listen.
dean was about to start reprimanding himself in his head, for what must have been the third time already, when you said something, nearly making him slam on the brakes in his surprise.
"how are you doing this?" you asked, as if that wasn't the vaguest question he'd heard in his entire life.
dean blinked a couple of times as he waited for elaboration that never came. he switched hands on the steering wheel, resting his right loosely over the gearstick. "doing..." he trailed off, shaking his head slowly in a gesture to make you keep talking, "what, exactly?"
you did not catch the hint, and he was probably a fool for expecting you to. it took a few more seconds of you staring very intently at his thighs for you to speak up, and by then, he was fucking squirming in his leather seat, trying to not let it get to either of his heads that you were so blatantly staring at his dick.
"this," you answered, twinges of frustration evident in your tone. he couldn't blame you. he was getting frustrated in this car ride, too. "making it move."
christ. he was going to hell. he was going to hell again, this time because of his own drifting thoughts.
"you're gonna have to be a little more clear, dove," he managed through his teeth, voice strained, "'cause i don't think we are on the same train of thought right now."
another blink, and another few seconds pass. your hand shot up in his direction and he flinched, honestly flinched, convinced from the filthy thoughts circling in his head that you were about to grab him by the—
"this," you repeated, and he almost bristled at the attitude, almost told you off about virtues or whatever, when he finally got it. your arm stuck out in gesture to his legs, which pushed the gas pedal and rested against the doorframe, as he drove.
dean closed his eyes briefly, metaphorically swapping his metaphorical wrist for his headspace. he was not, was not, the person that should be introducing you to this world.
dean shifted again, bringing his left leg closer to the leather seat as he readjusted into more of a comfortable position. he hadn't even realized how tense he'd gotten on this short car ride until now. he was as straight backed as you were, and breathing just as slow. "driving?" he asked anyways, like an idiot.
"driving..." you repeated, like the word was as fascinating to you as the process was. "how?"
the diner sign was right there. it was teal and glowed, retro in style, announcing benny's bistro as open.
he drove past it.
dean knew that you did not sign up for a driver's ed course with him with your question, knew even more that he was risking his baby for a pathetic attempt at flirting with someone who did not even know the definition of the word, but to hell with it. you'd asked to come along with him, and therefore placed yourself in his hands for his guidance. the least he could do was make some sort of effort, couldn't he?
"c'mere," he grumbled once he'd pulled baby off into an unassuming back road, parking it dead in the center. you'd need all the open space. he patted his spread thighs a couple of times.
your stupidly pretty pink lips sucked into your stupidly straight teeth. fuck. "why?"
"just—" he cut himself off when he realized he was about to get snippy. you didn't deserve snippy. he was just hungry and horny and you were pretty and he was...
he was pathetic. looking for reasons to get you into his lap. he'd already been to hell, what are they gonna do, drag him back by his ear?
"just do it," dean finished on a sigh, his hand dropping to the front of his leather seat, grabbing the handle and shoving the seat back as far as it could go. there you were, staring at his dick again, making him feel hotter and more bothered.
he felt his heart stop solidly in his chest when you started to climb over the middle console, so oblivious to the faceful of ass he was getting. dean was practically praying to god at that point. he knew he'd been a shit until then, and definitely a sinner by every means, but if he could grant him a little fucking strength—
you plopped your happy little ass right between his muscular, jean-clad thighs. you were warm, was his first thought. he was screwed, was his second.
"what now?" you asked him, that innocent lilt to your voice as you did, and he felt like a dirty little freak for wanting to bend you over the steering wheel moments before ( who was he kidding? for still wanting to bend you over the steering wheel ).
dean took both of your hands and placed them on the steering wheel. once he'd closed your fingers around the wheel, he dropped his hands to your thighs.
"this one," he patted the left one, and nearly went molten behind you, when you lifted that thigh and placed it on his palm. "nuh uh," he tried to lightly correct, "this one you don't use. jus' keep it out of the way." dean's voice was strained in his ears, in his throat.
you slipped your thigh out of his grasp, pressing it up against the inner of his own thigh, your foot tucked around his ankle. you were so trusting and compliant. he was so, so screwed, and so, so awful for thinking about breaking that sweet naivety.
"this one," he said, patting your right thigh, and when you didn't move it this time, he smiled, just a little, to himself. "you use to make it move."
the flush on your cheeks that followed his tease was so damn pretty it took his breath away.
he lifted his leg, not able to reach the pedals with you sat between them and his seat all the way back. he pointed his boot at the left pedal, knowing you were watching each of his movements intently. "that's the stop pedal. push it down to stop." he repeated the process he'd done with your legs, boot pointing at the right pedal as he explained it. "that's the ignition."
pause.
"that's the go," he corrected, sparing you any momentary confusion and any more questions, he hoped. dean could not keep sitting here idle with you between his legs. "makes the car drive. harder you push, faster it goes."
hell, hell, hell. he wasn't going to hell, because he was already in it, strung up and burning.
"i'll handle the gears," he added quickly, when he caught your head turning downward to the shift stick. "don't wanna overwhelm that pretty little head of yours, dove, with too much at once."
dean rested his right hand on the gear stick, his left hand gripping the handle on the driver's door for dear life. he needed the support; you were driving him up a wall with his claws out, and you were about to be driving him. driving his baby. it took a lot of coaxing from sam for dean to let sam behind the wheel. all you did was ask how do you make it move? and he was letting you drive.
you. who did not even know what a car was. who was learning how to drive literally that moment.
god help him. he'd prayed more in this fifteen minute drive than he had in years.
you pressed down on the gas pedal, and the car revved all pretty and loud. dean watched with bated breath as the response to your efforts registered in your head, the way your eyes lit up in that curious glimmer, the fucking teeth biting on your lip.
once you let up, he pushed on the gear stick's release, and tugged it down from park to drive. the car slowly began to move down the dirt path.
you slammed the brakes so hard that his head knocked into the back of your shoulders. "fuck, dove, gentle."
and you were, when you shifted your foot over to the gas pedal again. you pushed it down on it tentatively, the car starting to glide down the dirt road, the sound of pebbles grinding beneath the tires.
"better," he mumbled in your ear, leant forward to keep his eyes on the windshield. it's not that he didn't trust you, he just... yeah, he didn't trust you. "just like that, dove."
the praise, though, goes in one ear and out the other, because the gentle ease of baby's tires along the road is interrupted by you slamming the gas. the tires squeal. clouds of dirt and dust puff out from behind the car as it takes off.
dean's heart went from in his ass to in his throat in a manner of a second. "whoa, whoa, whoa!" he exclaimed, a nervous laughter bubbling out of his throat. "slower, slower, will ya? crashin' in the middle of nowhere is the last—"
you hit the brakes again, still hard but less this time. just enough to send his head knocking into your shoulder again as the car slowed.
slowed, but still headed toward the ditch. "right, see your hands?" he asked, chin nuzzling into the plush spot between your neck and your shoulder so he could see better. "twist 'em. nice n' gentle for me, to your left, yeah, good girl. makes the whole car move, yeah? jus' keep it on the dirt, not off "
you follow his instructions, and dean feels a swell of pride at this. maybe he should have gone into driver's ed or some shit. he was a good ass teacher.
"like this?" you asked, drawing him out of his self glazing. your voice, soft and hesitant, breathless with your excitement, has his chest heaving.
"yeah, dove, jus' like that," he rasped, his left hand moving from the doorframe to rest where your thigh met your hips. the car kept its slow pace down the long dirt road, and for the first time since you'd gotten your hands on the wheel, his heart doesn't feel like it's pounding in his throat. "no, no, don't stop. keep goin', you're doing so good for me."
his phone starts to buzz in his pocket, and like that, his self indulgent driver's ed lesson comes to a screeching halt. "you jus' keep on going like this, alright?" he asked you, patting your hip with his hand before he reluctantly let go.
he definitely answered the phone with more attitude than necessary. couldn't help it. he was having a great time. "what, sam?"
"everything alright?" sam asked, and then dean felt like a prickhead for giving him shit at all. "s'been thirty minutes."
dean sighed, his eyes lifting again to look out the front windshield. a stop sign was quickly approaching, and you didn't even need his guidance for that. you were slowing to a stop all on your own. he was so fucking proud, it was sick. "all good. long line at the burger place."
it was dead empty, four miles back.
"we'll be back in a few, alright? chew on one of your books or somethin' while you wait, make 'em useful."
"dean—"
he hung up before he could hear sam's sighed response.
his hand fell to your waist again, squeezing lightly to stop you from lifting your foot off of the brake just yet. "play time's over. calvary's callin' us back."
dean pushed the gear stick into park again before he moved both of his hands to your hips, helping guide you back into the passenger seat.
he adjusted the seat again, his hands finding their typical place on the wheel. he did a very illegal u-turn at the four-way intersection and headed back down the road that you'd driven him down.
"have fun?" he asked after a beat, eyes flicking over to see you. you looked so pretty in the orange glow of the sunset, your face lit up in deep gold.
you turned to meet his eyes, and he had to look away quickly, the bright glimmer of adrenaline in them knocking all the wind out of him. "yes."
"good." dean meant it. there were so few things he'd risk everything for, but that toothy smile of yours jumped to the top of that list.
"dean?" your voice rung out again, earning him another glance your way in acknowledgement. "what part of the car was in my back the whole time?"
dean faltered, eyes blinking in a bout of surprise and lips parting, searching for a response he did not have. his eyes dropped down to his lap for a second, dread and embarrassment pooling like ice water in his stomach at what he hoped wasn't— yeah. yeah, it was.
"i dunno, dove," he mumbled through his teeth, staring straight ahead, fingers tapping on the steering wheel, doing basically anything to not meet that curious look of yours. especially knowing you'd have your lip in your teeth all over again. "might have t'take it to the shop, while we're in town... get it checked out or somethin'..."
he was so damn screwed.
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tags, @figthoughts @jasvtsc @titsout4nicholas @deanswidow @deansbite
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jasvtsc · 2 months ago
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beau arlen x innocent!reader.
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warnings! mdni! smut. pillow riding. beau watching the reader. mutual masturbation. guided masturbation. age gap. fingering. fem!reader. innocent!reader. softdom!beau. slight corruption (not in the bad way tho). most likely grammar mistakes.
word count! 1.8k
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dating the sheriff was definitely… exciting.
beau was older than you by A LOT, but it wasn’t one of your main concerns. he treated you right. he loved you to the moon and back…
and he was just so fucking hot.
the first time you saw him, your panties literally experienced their first flood.
sure, you had a few boyfriends, but it was never– that. his piercing emerald eyes, his broad shoulders, his handsome features and the way he carried himself. you were in awe and so much frustration, trying to figure out what was happening to you.
so when somehow you did end up dating him? yeah, it only got worse.
you had your own waterfall whenever your eyes landed on him. whether it was him trying to fix his truck with his sleeves rolled up, him manspreading and leaning back in his chair whenever you came to visit him in his office, or every time he was putting on his hat — you were a mess.
and the fact that you never had sex before only made it worse.
a few boyfriends? it never went past the phase of innocent kisses and holding hands shyly as if you were both carrying some kind of disease. growing up in a sheltered house definitely didn’t help. church every sunday, no boys allowed in the house after dinner, curfew and absolutely NO SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE!! it was one of the main rules in your home, and it stressed you out to the point where you weren’t even thinking about trying to at least pleasure yourself — you were scared that it’d be some kind of sin and your soul would be dragged to hell.
you were a good christian girl.
but that changed as soon as you started dating beau.
date someone your age, they said. nahh, you were in for the good ol’ cowboy with that strong drawl and a few silver streaks in his hair.
however, you couldn’t help but be scared. you literally knew nothing, and he already had so much experience. it was actually kind of intimidating for you. you were scared that maybe you wouldn’t be able to satisfy him enough or you’d do something wrong. that’s why you’ve been trying to avoid any intimacy at all cost.
and beau didn’t notice at first. he wasn’t with you for your body or physical pleasure. he was with you because you made his heart beat faster and charmed him with your cute little smile on your pinky lips with those sparkly eyes.
however, he did notice it at one point. well, more like he assumed it from the beginning. he knew you were innocent and that you’ve never really tried anything– you couldn’t keep anything from him even if you wanted to. also, you wanted to make sure he knew what he was in from the beginning. and fuck, was he going to hell for trying to make you lose some of that innocence. but he just wanted what was best for you– and that was helping ease some of your frustrations cause you were clearly a walking time bomb.
but how did he figure it out though?
well, after coming back from one of your dates, beau was driving you back to his place, his hand draped over your bare thigh because of how high your lavender sundress rolled up, giving it light squeezes from time to time. however, he decided to get more daring and slowly made his way up with his fingers. you didn’t seem to notice, too caught up reading something on your phone. but then, you widened your eyes and looked at beau, who had the same expression on his face as you. why? his fingers brushed against a damp spot on your panties.
it made his heartbeat falter, and he blinked a few times. so you did get excited around him. that’s why, as soon as you got to his place, he practically crashed his lips on yours, slamming your back against the wall and gripping your thighs tightly, lifting you and making you wrap your legs around him. he groaned and rubbed his already rock hard erection against your clothed core, making you gasp into the kiss.
fuck, that was getting serious.
“beau, i—“ you broke the kiss and looked at him with wide eyes like a deer caught in headlights. and just by that, he knew you were scared.
“i know, baby. i know,” he reassured, stroking your cheek with his knuckles, a soft smile on his lips. “we don’t have to do anything you don’t feel ready for, y’know?”
“but i want to. i just don’t want to do… that serious stuff yet,” you whispered and looked around as if someone would hear. beau chuckled lowly, then moved a strand of hair out of your face and cupped your cheek.
“then what do you want to do, darlin’? i’m all–“ but then he cut himself off and smirked as he got an idea. “you know what, actually, i know what we’ll do.”
with that, he carried you to his bedroom. he put you gently on his bed and gave you one of his pillows. you looked at him dumbfounded, tilting your head back, a faint pout on your plush lips that just made his cock strain against his jeans even more. fuck, he just wanted to know how it would feel if you were to su— not now, beau.
“we’ll try something new, ‘kay? something easy so you don’t freak out. do you trust me, baby?” he asked, stroking your hair. you nodded, looking at him like he was your everything, which made his heart warm up with even more love for you. he smiled and kissed your forehead. “good girl. now, get on that pillow and show me what a skilled little rider you are,” he patted your ass and then moved away from the bed, sitting down on an armchair nearby.
and once again, you were dumbfounded. “huh?” you asked, watching him manspread, his hand draped over his thigh and the massive bulge in his pants.
damn, you got even wetter.
this sight itself was enough to make you start moving your hips. slowly, you moved back and forth, trying to ease some of that feeling that pooled in your lower abdomen. and beau, seeing that, smiled widely, palming his crotch with his right hand, biting on the left one as it was formed in a fist.
“yeah. keep goin’. just like that, baby,” he praised, adjusting himself.
your mouth was practically watering because of that. you picked up your pace, grinding more fiercely against the pillow, enjoying the way your pussy was gliding on it, the fabric of your dampened panties only adding to the delicious friction.
soon, small gasps and pants started coming out of you. you moaned quietly and closed your eyes, your head tilting back. however, you were quickly reprimanded by beau and his stern voice.
“nuh-uh. eyes on me, baby. i want to see your pretty face when you ride that pillow,” he almost growled, the ache in his pants making him feral.
immediately, you obeyed, his dominance adding to your arousal. quickly, you tilted your head and looked at him. but when it was harder to keep up with your movements, you decided to shift. so you moved, and now, you were facing him while grinding your heat against his pillow.
beau groaned and palmed his dick harder. however, when that didn’t work, he huffed and unbuckled his belt. then, he unzipped his pants and lowered them down with his boxers, his massive cock freed from the refrains. you widened your eyes even more, letting out a whimper that made his erection twitch.
you bit your lower lip and observed him intensely as he stroked himself a few times, spreading the leaking precum and then pumping his cock to match the pace of your grinding.
“yeah. grind that little pussy on my pillow. imagine my face laying there after tonight, getting a good whiff of how desperate you were for someone to teach you how to pleasure yourself. i bet you’re gonna be humping your pillows more often now, am i right, baby? like a little puppy in heat,” he chuckled, licking his lips. then he spat on his hand and moved it back to his huge cock, pumping it even more aggressively.
“now, move your hand down, baby,” he instructed, watching as you obeyed his every word. “yeah, just like that. good girl. you’re so good f’me, baby, do y’know that?”
you whimpered, again.
“you make such pretty little sounds. jesus christ,” he panted and squeezed his dick harder. “now, move your hand under your panties— just like that, and rub your clit,” you were mindlessly listening to every word he was saying. as soon as your fingers landed on your swollen bud, slipping beneath the soaked fabric, and applying just a tiny bit of pleasure, your body jolted up and you gasped loudly.
beau grinned and increased the pace at which his hand was moving. “you’re doing so well. i’m so proud of you, baby. move your fingers faster.”
at this point, you weren’t grinding the pillow, but your hand as your fingers moved aggressively over your engorged clit. you were panting more frantically, your eyes wide and glazed from the pleasure.
and the sight of beau coming, only made it worse. his cum shot up on his shirt and hand, making him grunt lowly. he eased himself from his climax, seeing that you were struggling to get some relief. so he decided to take matters into his own hands.
he got up and kneeled on the bed, basically yanking you on your back. he tore your panties off and replaced your fingers with his, his calloused thumb rubbing your clit with experience. and then, you moaned loudly, arching into his hand as he snuck his fingers between your slick folds, propping your entrance. you almost screamed when he put his finger inside you, rubbing your velvety walls.
“fuck, you’re so soaked,” he groaned, feeling his cock get hard again. “yer gonna cum? f’me?” he asked with a smirk, adding a second finger.
and that was enough to make you come hard for the first time in your life. you moaned loudly, pressing your heat to his rough hand as your juices flooded his calloused palm. he kept whispering praises, helping you ride out your pleasure until you were spent, trying to catch your breath with the fucked out expression on your face.
beau smiled and moved his fingers out of you, making you whine in protest at how empty it suddenly felt. he licked his fingers clean and hummed in contentment.
“delicious. however, next time, you’re riding me.”
and to seal the deal, he grabbed his hat from the edge of the bed and with a playful smile, he dropped it on your head.
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a/n: sooo yeah, my first smut ever💀 y’all better lmk what you think cause i have no idea if it’s good or not
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༄♡tags: @beausling @titsout4nicholas @deanswidow @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @figthoughts @fitxgrld @a1ecmcdowell @hrtsoldierboy @10ava01 @angelicp0etry
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foolinthera1n · 16 days ago
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oh so close
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after a tough case, you and dean both need some stress relief. luckily, you have each other.
cw, smut! oral (f!receiving), praise kink, needy!dean, kind of softdom!dean, dirty talk, unprotected p in v (wrap it before u tap it folks), slight overstimulation, (sorry if i missed anything else!)
note, this had taken me literally so long to write because i cringe at every other line, but oh well. anyways, here is my first smut - any feedback would be appreciated!
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but now, but now somehow
my words roll off my tongue right onto your lips.
*
lips. teeth. dean.
those are the only words going through your head as dean's hands squeeze your hips, tugging you closer to him with one swift movement, his mouth never leaving yours.
the hunt had been rough, and you knew that you both needed some stress relief, feeling the need buzz beneath your skin.
you knew dean felt the same way, you could hear it in his gruff tone when he told sam goodnight, not uttering another word as he pulled you into your shared motel room. you could see it as his darkened eyes bored into yours when he shut the door, swiftly locking it behind him. you could feel it when he grabbed you, crashing his lips to yours harshly. but like hell were you complaining.
you moan as dean nips at your bottom lip, groaning against your mouth, his hands winding into your hair tightly. you feel him kick off his boots, and take the hint to do the same, keeping your mouth locked with his. your own hands creep up over his strong shoulders, nails digging into the smooth skin at the base of his neck for a moment before slipping up to tangle in his hair. you gasp into his mouth as dean's hands suddenly come up to your shirt, tangling in the hem of it before ripping it harshly over your head, the display of strength making your knees weak.
with one last suck of your tongue, he pulls away from your mouth, trailing his lips across your cheek, along your jaw and down to your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin of your pulse point. the sharp sting makes you gasp, your head dizzy from the blurry line of pain and pleasure.
"sorry, baby, y'just feel so good," dean mumbles into your neck, soothing his bite with a swipe of his tongue that coaxes a needy moan from your throat. "fuck, need you, sweetheart, need you s'bad."
"dean," you whimper breathlessly, head spinning as his lips continue their onslaught of your neck. "please-"
"yeah, yeah, i gotch'a.." he mutters, sucking below the corner of your jaw before bending down, tapping the back of your thigh. taking the hint, you wrap your arms around his neck before hoisting yourself up. dean catches you easily, his arms going under your thighs and big hands splayed over your ass.
as soon as your legs are secured tightly around his waist, dean starts walking you over to the bed, lips still working incessantly at your skin. as the feeling of pure need boiling in your blood becomes too much, your hands slip down to grab dean's face, pulling him back up to your mouth.
dean groans into the messy kiss, his hands squeezing your ass before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed. you land with a gasp, pushing yourself up on your elbows as he stands above you, tearing off his flannel and t shirt, tossing it behind him. tilting your head up to look at him again, your heart stutters at the sight above you.
dean is towering over you, his shoulders tensed, hands in tight fists and jaw clenched, but oh, his eyes. his piercing emerald eyes were looking down at you like he wanted to devour you.
you both stay still for a moment, just taking each other in, the only sound in the room being your labored breaths as you just stared at one another. dean breaks the moment suddenly, practically pouncing on you with a sound that almost sounds like a growl.
perfectly chapped lips crash onto yours as calloused hands latch onto your waist, caressing your skin in gentle movements that counter the rough attack on your mouth. you moan into his mouth, body arching up into him on instinct, your hands wrapping around him and grasping at the hard muscles of his shoulders.
weak pleas of his name are swallowed by his wanting mouth, your words not reaching him as he loses himself in you like he so desperately needs to. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, almost as if to distract you as his hand snakes up from your waist under the arch of your back, his fingers expertly unclasping your bra.
finally accepting he needs air and wanting to see your bare skin for himself, dean pulls away from your lips, holding himself up on his hands over you. you lay there panting under him, watching his eyes follow the movement of his hands as they pull your bra straps from your shoulders, ripping it from your body.
when his hands move down to your worn down jeans, you push yourself up onto your hands, tilting your head to attach your lips to his neck. you suck harshly at the smooth skin at his collarbone, pulling a groan from him that only fuels the flood between your legs.
"dean..." you whisper against his skin, relishing in the way his hands stutter at your waistband. your lips continue painting his neck, trying to convey what you want with your teeth and tongue.
"shh, i know, shit, i know, baby," he mutters, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment before they open again as his shaking hands undo your jeans and start to tug them down your legs. you help him by lifting your hips, one hand wrapped around his shoulder and the other one planted on the mattress to hold you up as your lips stay attached to his neck.
as soon as you kick your jeans away, dean's hands are gripping your waist, effortlessly lifting you and moving you to rest your head on the pillows. you lay back, lips parted and swollen as you pant heavily, eyes wide and needy as you watch him.
"fuck, look at you, sweetheart," dean whispers, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes rake over your nearly naked body, his gaze making you shiver. he leans over you again, breath fanning your face before he's gone again, dipping his head down to trail hot, wet kisses down your neck. "my pretty girl, all laid out and needy f'me--god, how did i get so lucky, baby?"
you can only moan in response, your head dropping back onto the pillows to give him better access to your skin as your hands dive into his hair, tangling in the short, spiky strands. dean's lips burn a trail down your neck and along your collarbone and all you can think about is how much you need him. how much you crave his touch, his gaze, his attention, his everything. if he wanted you to, you would sit still for hours, never moving a muscle as he painted himself into your skin, proving to you, himself, and everybody else that you were his.
you're snapped out of your aching thoughts when dean nips at your hip bone, causing you to yelp slightly. you lift your head from the scratchy pillows, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him.
"you with me, pretty girl?" dean asks, your hips gripped in his hands where he draws soothing circles into your skin with his rough fingers. "thought y'left me there for a second."
you shake your head, your tongue slipping out to wet your lips, fingers curling into the sheets below you when dean's hungry gaze tracks the movement. "m'here, was jus' thinking for a moment," you reply, your words already sounding slurred.
"m'kay good. 'cause i wanna see those pretty eyes locked on me when i make you feel good, yeah?" he croons, hands squeezing your hips ever so slightly. you nod, a soft groan escaping your lips as you let yourself fall back onto the bed, your head resting on the coarse pillow.
dean grins at your response, lowering his gaze between your legs as his hands spread your plush thighs, the sight making him let out a groan of his own. "fuck, sweetheart, you're soaked," he breathes, almost in awe as his hands tear off your panties, making you gasp at the sudden action.
"dean- oh-" you start to protest but are cut off as dean dives between your legs, flattening his tongue and licking a long stripe up your core, making your hips cant up off the bed. "oh shit-"
"don' move," dean mumbles from between your legs, the vibrations of his voice pulling a whimper from you. as if to enunciate his point, his large forearm moves from your thigh to wrap over your hip and your stomach, pinning your hips to the bed as his mouth wrecks you.
he swirls his tongue around your sensitive bud before sucking it between his lips, making your hands fly to his hair, gripping the short strands as if it's your lifeline. he sucks again, ripping a cry from your chest, and with a nudge of his broad shoulders, he lifts your thighs around his head, one hand gripping the plush fat of one, the other still holding your hips to the bed.
"oh god, dean-" you moan breathlessly, back arching off the bed when his tongue slips down to prod at your sopping entrance, the sensation shooting sparks of pleasure up your spine. "so good, feels s'good-"
his response is a deep groan, tongue moving back up to lap at your clit like it's water in the desert. your hands tighten in his hair, desperately trying to pull him closer, needy whimpers and whines falling from your kiss-bitten lips. you try to gasp for air, but cut yourself off with a broken moan as he plunges two fingers into your heart without warning, pumping them in tandem with his tongue.
"oh fuck, dean, please-" you babble, eyes rolling back as his fingers brush that gummy spot deep inside you.
dean kept his pace up, his tongue never slowing as he pumped and scissored his fingers inside you, almost as if he was trying to unravel you from the inside. you could feel the familiar tension building in your stomach, your back arching in a weak attempt to get away from him as the pleasure became nearly blinding.
"I can't, dean, I can't, shit, feels t'good-" you whimper, gritting your teeth and tossing your head back as you feel yourself get closer and closer to the edge.
"yes you can, baby," dean urges, lifting his mouth from your aching core just enough to speak, his eyes lifting to watch you as his fingers never break rhythm. "c'mon, cum for me sweetheart."
his rough words are all it takes for the band in your stomach to snap, dean's name leaving your lips in a cry as he sends you barreling over the edge so hard you swear you see stars behind your eyes. dean's fingers slow but don't stop, gently working you through your high as he presses kisses to your quivering thighs on his shoulders, whispering soft praises against your skin.
"that's my girl..shit, you're fuckin' drenching me, baby," he mutters, eyes glued to you as you come down from your release. "so good, such a good girl, hm?"
you whimper in response, your brain still too fuzzy with pleasure to respond properly. when you start to come down, his fingers still working at you are suddenly too much, oversensitivity making my legs twitch around his head. when you finally open your eyes, you lower your hooded gaze to dean between your legs, moving one of your hands from his hair to weakly grasp at his wrist, stopping his movement and getting his attention.
"need you, please dean, need you t'fuck me," you plead, your hand still in his hair tugging sharply to try and pull him up to you.
he grunts at your tug, obeying you and pulling his fingers from your quivering heat and bringing them to his mouth to lick clean as he crawls back over you. "mm, fuck pretty girl, y'taste like heaven," he groans, dipping down to capture your lips with his, shoving his tongue into your waiting mouth to make you taste yourself.
you moan into his mouth, the filthiness of the kiss making your toes curl as your teeth clash with his, his tongue swiping along the roof of your mouth as if to memorize the feel of it. you arch up into him, digging your nails into his scalp, your hips rolling up into his, whining into his mouth at the press of his arousal into your soaked core.
your shaky hands slip from his hair, lightly dragging your nails along his shoulders and down his toned chest, one lingering over the anti-possession tattoo inked into his skin while the other one falls down to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with his belt.
dean groans against your mouth, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away with a soft pop, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.
"off," you rasp out, fingers fumbling with his belt buckle. dean makes a noise of agreement as he pulls away just enough so that you can both pull air into your lungs, ending up with you panting into each other's mouths as dean's hand drifts down to help you with his belt.
with a joint effort, you manage to undo his belt, both of your hands coming down to tug at his waistband with a frustrated whine. dean grunts in frustration as well, sitting back on his knees as he tries to maneuver out of his jeans and boxers.
as soon as the offending garments are far enough down his hips, you push up onto your knees, grabbing his shoulders and tugging his mouth back to yours. he makes a surprised sound and you use the opportunity to hook your foot around the back of his knee, gripping his shoulders tightly, and in one swift movement, you flip him over so he falls flat on his back, your legs straddling his hips.
a gasp leaves his slack, kiss-swollen lips as he falls on the bed, his lust blown eyes staring up at you so dark you can barely see the evergreen you love so much. as soon as his brain catches up, he kicks his jeans and boxers off his feet, letting them fall to the floor. you eagerly reach down between you, grasping his aching cock in your hand, pumping him a few times as you watch his face contort in pleasure below you.
"shit- baby, please," dean gasps, the air punched from his lungs when you swipe your thumb over his leaking tip. you don't respond, bringing your free hand to continue stroking him slowly as you lift your thumb to your lips, sucking his precum from your digit. he groans again, the sound strained as his hands fly to your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin with the effort to not thrust up into your tempting heat. "c'mon, need you 'round me, sweetheart, please.."
though it's not the first time you've heard these please fall from his lips, hearing dean winchester beg for you, knowing he's a man who doesn't beg for anyone, breaks your barely kept self restraint.
you stop pumping him, leaning forward and bracing one hand on his chest as the other guides him to your entrance. you both let out a low moan as you sink down onto his length, the familiar stretch making your breath catch in your chest.
slowly, you take him in, desperate to feel every inch of him as your gummy walls suck him in greedily. dean lets out a soft groan at the intense feel of you around him, the sound making you clench around him, which causes his grip on your hips to tighten. after a few painstaking moments, you finally lower onto him fully, the plush of your ass meeting his hips, punching a broken moan from your chest.
dean watches you from below, his plush bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he fights the urge to thrust up into you, to move your hips, anything to feel more of you around him, to feel you come apart on him. "c'mon, sweetheart," he groans, the high pitch tone of his voice sounding dangerously close to a whine. "need you t'move, baby."
you nod at him, a low whine escaping your throat as you start to rock your hips back and forth on him, earning a moan of approval from him below you. you work his cock inside you until the burn of the stretch turns into simmering pleasure, climbing up from your core to the tips of your fingers that dig into his chest.
dean seems to decide that your pace is too slow for him, and with no warning, he grips your hips tighter, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down at the same time his hips thrust up into you. the sudden action makes you cry out as his harsh thrust causes the tip of his cock to hit your cervix just right, your eyes rolling back into your head.
"shit- dean," you gasp, the air punched from your lungs as he slams you down onto him again, his cock deliciously kissing your cervix with every thrust. you move your hips as well, trying desperately to keep up with his rhythm but you can't, your thighs trembling around him as you cry out above him.
"that's it, fuck, so good, baby, such a good fuckin' girl, taking me so goddamn good," dean praises, his voice strained and breathy as he fucks up into you without abandon. you can only moan in response, but next thing you know, dean sits up abruptly, wrapping his arms around you, and the world is spinning.
he flips you with ease, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and waist lowering you back onto the bed, his cock never slipping from you. as soon as your safely placed on the mattress again, dean starts pistoning into you again, plunging into you like a man possessed. his head drops to your neck, chest pressed against yours as his teeth and tongue paint every patch of skin they can reach.
your reduced to a babbling, gasping mess as he pounds into you, the heat of his skin pressed against yours and his hot breath against your neck making you dizzy. your hands fly to his shoulders, nails dragging down his back as his cock hits that gummy spot inside of you.
the shock of pleasure from him hitting that spot forces a high pitched sound that resembled his name from your lips, making him nip at your neck, growling into your skin.
"oh, right there, huh? that the spot, baby?" dean huffs into your ear, angling his hips to hit that spot over and over again, so good you feel like your floating off the bed.
"uh huh, right there, right there- shit, so good," you moan, throwing your head back, eyes rolling into your skull and lips parted as your jaw goes slack from pleasure. you claw at his back, the sharp pain only spurring him on as he bites at your collarbone, fingers digging into the sheets next to your head.
"yeah, that's it baby..you're close, I can feel it- you're, shit, squeezin' me so fuckin' tight," he groans, tongue soothing over a bite mark left from his teeth.
you nod to the best of your ability, a loud, broken moan being pulled from your lips as one of his hands reaches down between you to rub his thumb in tight, almost harsh circles on your aching clit. it's almost too much, the blinding pleasure making your skin crawl, the band in your stomach getting dangerously close to snapping.
"oh fuck, dean, m'close, 'm so close-" you whimper, weakly lifting your hips the best you can to half-heartedly meet his thrusts.
"i know, baby, i know," he breathes into your ear, his thumb speeding up on your bundle of nerves, making you see stars behind your eyes. he lifts his head from your neck, smashing his lips to yours again, making you moan into his demanding mouth. "cum for me, pretty girl, c'mon, soak my fuckin' cock."
his words, muttered against your slack lips, send you flying over the edge with a scream of his name. your back arches under him, your nails digging so hard into his back you're sure you've drawn blood, but the thought is lost on you as your vision practically goes white with pleasure. you feel yourself gushing around his length, the blinding pleasure and slight overstimulation making a tear slip down your cheek.
"fuuck, good girl, baby, good fuckin' girl," dean grunts against your mouth as he feels you come apart around him, the intensity of you squeezing around him causing him to follow you over the edge with a groan of your name. you feel him twitch before he spills inside of you, the hot sensation of his cum filling your oversensitive cunt causing aftershocks to flow through you, making you moan weakly.
when he's finally spent, his hips slow to a stop, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as you both just lay there, catching your breath and coming down from the intense moment. your head is dizzy, and you can feel a few stray tears slipping down your cheeks as you lay there, spent.
after a few moments, dean lifts his head from your shoulder, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek gently, his touch a stark contrast to what just happened. he mutters your name softly, but you're still too blissed out to do anything but hum, your eyes still closed as you pant softly.
he says your name again, his thumb stroking your cheek softly, trying to get you to open your eyes, "c'mon, sweetheart, look at me. let me see those pretty eyes."
reluctantly, you do as he says, your eyes fluttering open with great effort to look up at him through your lashes. a smile breaks out onto his face, his thumb still stroking your cheek affectionately.
"there's my girl," dean whispers, leaning down to softly press his lips to yours just for a moment, to ground you, bring you back to him. his brows furrow in concern when he pulls back, his thumb wiping away the stray tears that had leaked from your eyes. "you okay? i didn't hurt you, did i?"
your pounding heart swells with affection at his concern, and you manage the strength to smile up at him, shaking your head and leaning into his touch.
"no, it was perfect," you whisper, your voice slightly hoarse from your earlier vocalization. "i needed that."
he smiles at your answer, shifting his hand to brush some of your sweaty hair from your forehead, pressing a kiss there to your heated skin. "yeah, i needed that too," he agrees, nuzzling his nose against yours with a soft sigh.
you relish in his affection for a few moments, both of you just laying there, sharing soft kisses and taking the other in. eventually though, the stickiness between your thighs becomes uncomfortable, and you start to squirm under him.
"not that i don't love this," you whisper softly, your eyes fluttering open to meet piercing green staring back at you. you gently lift your hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over his cheek before you move your hand to his hair, fingers brushing through the short strands at the nape of his neck. "but we should get cleaned up."
dean hums in agreement, eyes slipping shut for a moment at your ministrations, opening again as he presses open last kiss to your lips before slowly lifting himself up and gently pulling out of you, making you wince.
"i know, m'sorry, sweetheart," he mumbles, gripping your thigh with his hand, tracing comforting circles into your heated skin. once you're seperated, he pushes up onto his knees before leaning down again, wrapping his arms under your back and lifting you into his arms.
you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck as carries you, resting against him as he walks to the motel bathroom. you feel an overwhelming sense of both relief and affection as his thumbs gently stroke the skin of your back while he carries you, and you turn your head, pressing a soft kiss over his pulse point, letting your lips linger against his skin.
"love you," you whisper into his skin, hoping that he doesn't just hear your love, but feels it along his spine, under his skin, and in his bones, wishing you could carve it into him until he knew he deserved it.
"i know," is his response, and you smile against him knowing that even when he doesn't say it back, he loves you. you feel it in the way he craves you, the way he protects you and keeps you safe, and you feel it in the reverent way he touches you, as if you are the only altar he will get on his knees for.
that is how you know dean winchester loves you, and you will spend the rest of your life proving to him that he deserves that kind of love too, even if it kills you.
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a/n: ok, so here it is! this took me so friggin long to write but its finally done (thank god). just by the way, this was all written at like 3 in the morning on various days, so I am very sorry if this sucks. but anyways, thank you for reading and if you have any feedback, pls let me know!
p.s - I know i'm not like a big writer or anything but if anyone wants me to start a taglist lmk!
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deansbabyangel · 15 days ago
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wanna wear my jacket? — a dean winchester drabble
summary: reader gets cold during a hunt, and dean takes the chance to tease her before giving her his jacket.
includes: fluff, pet names (sweetheart, angel), protective dean vibes, playful banter.
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the wind was biting as you trudged through the woods, every step crunching against frozen leaves. you pulled your arms tighter around yourself, wishing you had grabbed an actual coat instead of your trusty flannel.
“you okay back there, sweetheart?” dean called from up ahead, turning to look at you. the smirk on his face told you he already knew the answer.
“fine,” you huffed, even though your teeth were practically chattering.
he raised an eyebrow, slowing his pace so he could walk beside you. “fine, huh? ‘cause you look like a popsicle.”
“i forgot my jacket, okay?” you admitted, pouting a little as you tried to rub warmth into your arms. “it didn’t match my outfit.”
dean let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “your priorities, angel. they never fail to amaze me.”
before you could come up with a sassy reply, he was shrugging off his leather jacket and holding it out to you.
“here,” he said simply.
you blinked up at him, wide-eyed. “but, dean, what about you? you’ll be cold.”
“sweetheart,” he drawled, draping the jacket over your shoulders, “i’ve been through worse than a little cold. plus, watching you turn into a human icicle ain’t exactly my idea of a fun night.”
the jacket was warm, smelling like leather and faint traces of his cologne. it was so big on you that the sleeves hung past your fingertips, but you didn’t mind one bit.
“thanks, dean,” you murmured, a shy smile tugging at your lips.
“don’t mention it,” he said, ruffling your hair affectionately. “but if you ever leave your coat behind again, i’m making you wear one of sam’s hoodies. no more fashion statements on hunts, got it?”
you giggled, wrapping the jacket tighter around yourself. “got it, boss.”
dean smirked, slinging an arm around your shoulders as you both continued walking. “good. now let’s finish this up so i can get you back to the bunker and warm you up properly.”
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a/n: aaa this is so soft i could cry!! pls let me know what you think + feel free to send requests my way!! i love writing fluffy dean moments <3
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dollsltt · 2 months ago
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MAMA, A BIRD BEHIND YOU.
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⠀⠀ ᡣ𐭩 ⠀ ⠀⠀angel!reader x dean winchester
sum. just angel!reader having a staring problem, and perturbing dean’s sleep with it.
includes. fluff, pet names (duck, duckling, sweetheart), it’s my first drabble have mercy, english is not my first language.
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Dean jolted awake, his heart felt like it wanted to jump out of his chest. He wasn't sure what had disturbed him so much —a nightmare, maybe, or that weird squeaking sound the bunker floor made from time to time— but something felt... off. He blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the drowsiness and blurriness in his eyes. Then he saw you.
You. Fuckin' duck. He thought.
You were standing perfectly still in the corner of the room, your hands clasped together in front of you, staring deeply at Dean.
"What the fuck-" Dean wanted to yell at you, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't used to it. It was maybe the fifth time this week you'd taken it upon yourself to wake him or Sam with your eerie, silent presence. "Duckling, what are you doing here?" he asked as he sat up in bed.
You stared at him for another few seconds, blinking slowly. "You were asleep."
"Yes, I know. It's what people do at night." He rubbed his face, trying to make sense of the situation, and maybe trying to talk some sense into you. "Why are you always just... standing there? Watching me like a damn freak?"
You tilted your head slightly, as though considering your words. "You looked peaceful."
Dean froze, caught between a sense of confusion and sheer disbelief. "You woke me up because I looked peaceful?"
"No," you corrected, your voice as calm as ever. "You woke up on your own. I was merely observing."
"Observing what, exactly?"
For brief moments, you hesitated. Your expression was hard to read, since you just kept staring at him, but that question seemed to have made you think.
"Humans are... fragile. They take on too much. They carry the weight of their sins even unconsciously. I was ensuring that you remained unharmed."
Dean stayed just like you for a few seconds; still and staring, blinking slowly as if the gears in his brain were being dusted off. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, trying to find the words.
"So you were angelically babysitting me?" he said, confused. How was he supposed to take that? Sure, it was... Cute, in a way. His chest tightened fondly at the thought of how much you cared for him, even if you showed it in such a weird way.
But still, it was fucking terrifying to be jumpscared by two shiny eyes staring at his soul in the middle of the night.
"Yes." you said, matter-of-factly, a tiny smile gracing your face, which only made Dean feel his chest tighten even more.
"Listen, sweetheart– I don't mind you watching me sleep, okay? Even if you look like a freak, I don't mind, but you should try to kick that habit. It's not very... uh, how do I say it? Human." Dean tried to explain it as simply as possible, but it was hard when you were looking at him with those big eyes, all wide and paying as much attention as if he were an exotic animal. "You scared five lifetimes out of me standing in that corner like an extra in horror movie. I'm just saying, others might react worse than me."
You blinked and looked down at your hands. "I didn't intend to frighten you. I'm simply drawn to your existence." You said softly. "If you would rather, I may go."
Dean shouldn't feel bad, but he did. It was like scolding a puppy for chewing on a shoe. He knew you were getting used to the Earth and how humans coexisted with each other, it wasn't entirely your fault you were a social misfit.
"Stay if you want," Dean flopped back onto his pillow with a groan, covering his face with his upper arm. "But I'd recommend you try doing other things while Sam and I asleep, believe me, anything is better than watching two idiots snore." He yawned.
Dean peeked out from behind his arm to watch you move toward the door, though you threw one last glance over your shoulder.
You hesitate, moving your lips as if you want to say something else. Finally, you nod. "Very well. Sleep well, Dean." Your gaze lingered for a moment, soft and curious, before vanishing down the hallway.
As soon as you left, Dean exhaled noisily. "Angels," he muttered, covering his head with the blanket. "Fucking weirdos."
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a/n: hii hiii hello this is my first drabble, hope y’all like it :) i’m doing sam’s version soon cuz my boy deserves to be disturbed by the angel too
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figthoughts · 2 months ago
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helping beau relax after a stressful day at work
— smut, est. relationship. (beau x gf!reader) 18+
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
imagine beau getting home to your apartment after a long day, a deep sigh rumbling from his chest as he sits down on the couch, almost defeatedly.
“what’s wrong, my love?” you ask, seeing the exhaustion etched on his face, taking a seat beside him.
“just a long day, darlin’. don’t worry about it,” he replies, pulling you into his arms, caging you against his chest.
“you say that, but i do worry. i care about you, beau,” you smile, searching his eyes as the soft-spoken words leave your lips. you plant a tender little kiss on his cheek.
he hums with a tired smile as you plant another kiss. and another. and another. you kiss your way along his bearded jaw, your lips eventually finding his.
beau kisses you back lazily, letting his eyes flutter shut as his body melts into the couch, but as you slip your leg over his thighs and settle in his lap, it’s like a flip switches. he kisses you back hard, with a desperate intensity to it.
“so tired,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling at your shirt, “just been wanting to come home and see you. more than anything, darlin’.”
you sense the emotion behind his words; you can tell he’s had a rough day. you know he needs a little lovin’ right now.
you let him slip off your shirt, his mouth attaching itself to your neck, sucking and biting at your skin gently. he pulls at your bra straps and you nod, giving him permission to continue undressing you.
he pulls the rest of your clothes off, along with his, with such reverence in his gaze as he looks at you. his eyes widen as you settle in front of him on the floor.
“oh, sweetheart. you don’t have to do that, you’ve worked all day too,” he breathes out, his fingers tenderly pushing back some hair from your face.
“don’t have to, want to,” you correct him, taking him in your hand, your eyes locked on his.
he gasps at your soft hand wrapping around his cock and the shivers that run down his spine as you begin to pump him. you watch his shoulders begin to relax and the tense expression on his face slowly disappear.
“mmm, are— are you sure?” he asks again, his tone lazy and tired, his southern drawl coming out a little.
“positive,” you reaffirm.
beau rocks his hips a little as you pump his hardening cock, quiet and needy moans falling from his lips.
“ahhh… sweetheart, that feels so good…” he coos lovingly, watching you from the couch in awe.
you smile up at him, watching him through your lashes, enjoying his gaze that’s so full of love and affection.
as you take his hardened cock into your mouth, a deep moan erupts from his chest. beau’s hand comes to rest on your head, not guiding your movements by any means, but just out of desperation to touch you, to have the comfort of your body against his, even in that small insignificant way.
you bob your head up and down his length, your tongue swirling over his sensitive tip, tasting his precum as he watches you in a mixture of adoration and fascination.
“fuck, darlin’. feels so good. you look so beautiful like this,” he mutters, his free hand gripping the couch.
you hum around his cock, enjoying how the vibrations make beau’s hips jerk up towards you.
deep and strangled groans fall out of beau’s mouth as he gets closer, twitching against your tongue. you grab the base of his cock, jerking off what you can’t fit in.
beau bites at his bottom lip, trying to stifle his moans as they get louder. his grip in your hair gets a little tighter, now guiding you along his member. you let him, seeing the neediness and exhaustion still haunting his features.
“ahhh… oh, god— mmm, feels so good. don’t stop, baby…. please…” he whines out, his eyes locked on you.
you bat your lashes up at him, moving up ‘n down his thick cock faster, your hand still wrapped around his base.
he whimpers as he fights off finishing right there in your mouth, “ahh ahh, darlin’…. w-where?”
you look into his desperate eyes as you pull him out of your mouth with a ‘pop’, your hand still jerking his sensitive pretty pink cock. you stick your tongue out and open your mouth, answering his question.
he nods in response and grabs ahold of his length, jerking himself off quickly, “fuck, darlin’… gonna cum in that pretty mouth of yours…” he grunts out, hisses and groans flying past his lips.
he lets out a deep pathetic moan as he finishes, his warm ropes of cum covering your lips and tongue as he milks his cock for every last drop.
your eyes stay locked on his as he shoots his load into your mouth. a small smile grows on your face as he slumps back into the couch, a tired but satisfied look on his face, “oh, jesus. baby, you’re so—” he shakes his head, unable to find the words to describe how strong his love for you is.
you obediently swallow, wiping the drops above and below your lips into your mouth, your tongue teasingly wrapping around the tip of your finger. beau groans again, watching you tease him as you swallow his cum.
“so damn beautiful,” he comments, “thank you, babygirl. i— i really needed that.”
you nod, shifting on your knees in front of him with a smile. you tilt your head and look at him as he smiles back at you, “i know. you looked like you needed it, baby.”
he hums again, watching you crawl back up onto his lap. his hands find their way to your waist, “is it my turn to make you feel good now, my darlin’? i’m dying to return the favour.”
you smile widely and shrug trying to play coy, but the excited squeal that escapes your lips as beau pins you down against the couch gives away just how eager you are.
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A/N: first time writing for beau !!! the daddy issues in me are SCREAMING for a piece of him like actually it’s so bad.
requests and feedback are welcome!! reblogs are appreciated!! thank youuuu!!!
✩ taglist: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4nicholas @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @atenea585 @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @jackleslvr @winchester-whiskey @artyandink @emeraldcrs @freyabear @a1ecmcdowell @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity
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thesilmarillionblog · 2 months ago
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WICKED MIND ─ Dean Winchester
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When he wakes up in the middle of the night, Dean can't resist masturbating while thinking about you.
+18! (Minors DNI), smut, male masturbation, wicked and dirty thoughts, kinky (it's just smut, sorry)
Word Count: 1187
A/N: English is not my first language. divider credit
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Dean grumbled in frustration and opened his eyes again, unable to sleep well. He felt like a child who was struggling to fall asleep. It was an unbelievable agony to be so exhausted and yet be unable to sleep. Since he was busy with practically everything every day and coping with every bizarre one, he was positive that his body screamed for some rest.
It was about three in the morning when he looked at the clock. God. His eyes burned. Throughout his thirty-five years of life, Dean had never experienced insomnia, but now he did.
When an idea struck his head, he scowled. Years had passed since he'd jerked off to quickly fall asleep. Dean was unable to stop thinking about how terrific it felt. Why not? He had read and understood his body to help his eyes get the rest they required, and he didn't have drugs to use at the moment. Moreover, he hadn't gotten off for fun in quite some time. These days, Dean's sexual life is actually active, and he hasn't needed to help himself lately. 
Plain and simple, things had changed. It would be just to get some sleep. Nothing more. To tell himself that he didn't like helping himself would be a lie. It was always enjoyable.
After inhaling deeply, Dean moved the blanket away from his body and slightly lowered his boxers to reveal his partially hard cock. He assumed that he might not be able to sleep because of his cock. It didn't matter though. Now he would take care of this. 
Dean spat in his palm, then wrapped his cock with his rough fingers. His head turned to his cock, and his abs tightened. He licked his lips and started pumping himself, eager to get it done very quickly. His thoughts were instantly filled with pictures of you as he stroked his cock. 'Fuck' he thought to himself. Now, that was unexpected.
Realizing it would be tougher than he had anticipated, he spit into his hand a little more before tightening his fingers around his cock. He had a cock that was hard enough to keep him awake, but it was clearly stubborn. Come. On. Dean's thumb stroked his already hard cock's purple head as he bit his lips fiercely. He was now about completely erect. Almost.
He was taking heavy breaths, nearly grunting, as his mind started to play games on him. Dean couldn't stop picturing your ass and physique. It was difficult to not notice or forget the picture of you playing 8-ball pool yesterday. You looked lovely there.
It was enough to make his cock completely hard. Just think about how you bent before you took your shot and how the stick waited between your fingers. 
When Dean could no longer resist his demons, he gave up and allowed his thoughts to take control, concentrating on the pictures that were racing through his head. At that point, it didn't matter how awesome his hookups were. There was something unique about the way your ass appeared as you bent your body. Perhaps it was because the two of you were simply buddies. It was Fobbiden's thrill that made him feel like this. After all, the forbidden always tasted delicious. 
Dean considered lifting your dress up and putting your underwear aside. What color would you be wearing? Most likely green or pink. After all, you were fond of pastel colors. Pink would be preferable. 
As he visualized your pussy, his fingers tightened around his aching cock harsher. Dean had no doubt that you would take him well. However, he would make sure you sucked him well before giving you a hard fuck on the table. God. It would look great with your little mouth around his cock. He heaved his balls after groaning as his thumb continued to touch his cock's head and lingered around the thick veins. Dean grunted while he drifted off into his own thoughts. Whether that was the appropriate thing to do or not didn't matter to him. 
He needed that.
You would get moist there from the way he would fuck your mouth and throat. He would spill against your face and throat since he knew you would also like finishing him off and tasting him. He would push your head to his cock and put his hands behind your hair to make you give him all of your attention. He knew that you could take him all. You would moan around the head, suck the salty cum, and swirl your tongue around it. Fuck. Dean imagined fucking your face with both hands behind your head. As he pictured how he would handle your lovely mouth, he was firmly biting his lips.
The obscene sounds his hand made while he beat his cock were driving him insane. He knew he could hear the similar sounds once he started to fuck you raw and his heavy balls hit your pussy from behind.
He was average there—not very long. However, he was sufficiently thick, which was something of which he was proud. His cock was fat and heavy. Dean imagined your walls constricting around him. 
He slowed his hand to extend the process and enjoy a little extra fun just as he was getting close. He swiftly grabbed his phone and opened one of your photos. He knew he shouldn't be doing this, but fuck it. No one would know, and there was no way of going back. As soon as he was asleep, he would forget about it. 
When Dean saw one of your 8-ball pool pictures, he let out an uncontrollable groan. "Fuck," he said. When you played it, you looked beautiful. He looked at your ass and concentrated on the way you bowed. Grasping the back of your neck on the table, he would swiftly and aggressively fuck you while placing his hands around your hips and pounding hard into your tiny pussy. 
Dean spat his palm again, and his motions became more intense and faster. He was staring at your photo as he groaned; he was thrusting into his hands rough. He whispered, “Good girl,” unable to stop talking this time. 
"I'll fuck you so good, fuck your tiny pussy against that table so fucking good... Fuck. Take me." 
He should be ashamed for acting in such a way. But he was absorbed in the right now. Dean knew he was about to finish because his cock was throbbing now. “Let me fill you; let me come inside you, baby.”
As he continued to stare at your photo, Dean's cock began to throb, and he felt the hot ropes against his bare chest and hands. In order to make sure there was nothing left in his hefty balls, he continued to stroke himself while groaning. Then, enjoying the experience, he set his phone aside and stoked himself a bit more. When he was done, shame was starting to rise, but he made an effort to dismiss it. Dean stared over his chest, panting fiercely. His entire body was covered with his hot white ropes.
He was a mess.
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AN: SOrry. Let me know what you think loll
Permanent Taglist: @deaniemyboo @crooked-haven @ladykitana90 @kamisobsessed @artemys-ackles @thecutestaaakawaii @supfan67 @suckitands33
Click here and let me know if you wanted to be tagged permanently: TAGLIST!
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deansbeer · 1 month ago
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⊹ ﹒ 𝝑𝑒 DRENCHED IN SIN ﹒†  
𓋜 ׅ 𓂃 © cosmicanakin ݂ 🐄 ࣪ 𝆬 ᜔ 𖨂
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YAP SESH! new layout isn't as pretty as the one i use for my blurbs 'n drabbles—at least i think they are—but i wanted to try it out. neither is it a guarantee the layout will stay this way either. so ignore my old layouts for my other FICS, BLURBS, & DRABBLES. they're all SO disorganized 'n honestly? 'm too lazy to reorganize 'em.
WARNING(S)! smutty smut smut | oral sex (f!receiving) | squirting | praise kink | teasing | DOM!DEAN | S9!DEAN | dean's lil scruff | pure filth | overstimulation. ୨ৎ EIGHTEEN PLUS! ADULT CONTENT | minors do NOT interact.
୨ৎ CREDS @pommecita 4 LACE BOW DIVIDER !
୨ৎ JENSEN'S LIBRARY.
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it's been weeks. weeks of shitty motels, long drives, and even longer hunts. but now, you're finally back in bed with dean, and he's got that mischievous glint in his eye that makes your stomach flip.
"'m telling you, sweetheart," he drawls, his cocky smirk widening as he kneels between your thighs, spreading them wider. "you can do it again. you squirted all over me last time."
you groan, covering your face with your hands. "dean, that was a fluke. 's not gonna happen again."
he leans down, pressing a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, his scruff scratching your sensitive skin. "a fluke, huh?" he murmurs, his lips trailing higher. "guess i'll just have to prove you wrong."
before you can argue, he's already between your legs, his mouth hot and wet as he drags his tongue through your folds. he licks a slow, deliberate stripe up to your clit, sucking it into his mouth like he's starved. the sound he makes—half groan, half growl—has your back arching off the bed, your hands twisting in the sheets.
"shit, de," you gasp, your legs trembling as his tongue flicks over your clit again and again, each stroke sending sparks shooting through your body.
he pulls back just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening, his green eyes dark with hunger. "god, i missed this," he mutters, sliding two fingers into you with ease, curling them just right. "missed the way you taste, the way you fall apart for me."
you bite your lip, trying to keep your moans quiet, but it's useless. his mouth is back on you, his fingers working you over with expert precision, and you can already feel the pressure building low in your belly.
"dean," you pant, your hips bucking against his face. "'s too much. i can't—"
"you can," he cuts you off, his voice muffled against you. "c'mon, babydoll. give it to me."
his tongue and fingers move faster, relentless, and you're trembling so hard you can barely breathe. the coil in your belly tightens, tighter and tighter, until it snaps, and suddenly you're cumming so hard you see stars.
"oh my god—dean!" you cry out as your release gushes out of you, soaking his entire face and your thighs. you try to squirm away, embarrassed, but his big palms clamp down on your stomach, holding you in place.
"oh no, you don't," he growls, his lips brushing over your sensitive clit as he keeps you pinned. "that was fuckin' beautiful, sweetheart. you're dripping all over me."
"dean, baby, stop," you whine, your face burning as you try to push him away. "you're gettin' it everywhere."
he chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your slick folds before pulling back, his face and chest a mess but looking completely unbothered. "sweetheart," he says, wiping his forehead and mouth with the back of his hand, "if you think i give a shit about getting messy, you don't know me at all."
before you can respond, he's crawling back up your body, his lips crashing into yours, and you taste yourself on his tongue. "you're fuckin' incredible," he murmurs against your lips, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your slick folds. "and now i'm gonna fuck you s'good, you'll make an even bigger mess."
and knowing dean, you don't doubt it for a fucking second.
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artyandink · 1 month ago
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topgirl
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We’ve all seen Dean’s demon form dominating humans, BUT WHAT IF HE WAS TOPPED BY A DEMON?
“Sugar, c’mon.” Dean groaned, his head tipping back against the headboard. Ugh, this felt so emasculating, your back against his chest, covers up, book in your hand— oh yeah, and his cock nestled inside of your pussy, unable to move because you wouldn’t let him.
You gently slapped his thigh, instantly stilling him and not even batting an eye — externally — as the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, absentmindedly flicking a page in your book. “Nope, baby, gotta stay still.”
Normally he’d be super smug when having a girl warm his cock, but right now he was frustrated, and mad, and god, it felt so good. Why did it feel so good doing this? Honestly, he got his rocks off on making girls scream and now this demon lady was making him feel like a fucking lamb.
“Fuckin’ hate you.” He murmured, eyes closing as he focused on how the walls of that pretty pussy were nestled around his cock at the right angle, the warmth making his stomach tingle and his nerve endings light on fire, his hands gripping your hips, feeling like a steel band and also a bomb ready to go off and make you scream with hard thrusts.
You raised an eyebrow, shifting slightly on purpose to elicit a groan from him, biting your lip to stifle a giggle— yeah, that really didn’t work out, you snickered anyway. “Awh, that’s cute, but we both know that ain’t true. You want this pussy.” Oh, yes, he did, and the way you purposefully squeezed him with your cunt only confirmed that.
A whimper escaped him. A whimper.
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TAGLIST:
@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff
@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510
@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero
@a-cup-of-nightshade @tomatoessoup @sh0rtcakee @fall-06 @mckaykay-fandoms
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@demonxangelomegaverse @deanwinchestersgirl87 @capailluiscedove @i723l-interrupted2323 @niyomiii
@all-the-fan-fic @eviekinevie8 @sunflowerlover57
@1-800-dean-winchester
@darichvep @idk-usernme @supernaturalmarvel3000 @ega2025 @deanbrainrotwritings
@targaryenluvs @bucky-hydra-hoe-barnes @leigh70 @aintnowayboi @ripoffsteveharrington
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@riteofpassage77 @eevvvaa @thedevilortheangel @thorsballhair @barbienotdoll
@4e1h3r @wolfieblue03 @kianaleani @vicky199625 @sassyslut2003
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@didisull @miwp @lastcallatrockysbar @rizlowwritessortof
@zepskies @angelbabyyy99
@autisticgothic
@yourgoldengirls @deansobsessedgirl @mrsjenniferwinchester
@aylacavebear @lailawinchesterr @brightlilith @arcanaa @hobby27
@lyarr24 @ximm19
@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester
@cheynovak
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special tags for my boos: @jasvtsc @deanswidow @beausling @titsout4nicholas @figthoughts
@deansbite
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supernotnatural2005 · 3 months ago
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The Great Sam Winchester C*ck Block!
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Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: Dean and you have been desperate for some much needed alone time. However, a certain Winchester keeps getting in the way.
Word Count: 4106
Warnings: Smut! 18+ ONLY!!! Fluff, Sam is a massive c*ck block (yes that’s a warning!)
A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since i posted anything. Life has been wild. But i miss writing so much and have a few WIP. This just happens to be the one i’ve finished! 😅 Just something fun and spicy. I hope you enjoy and feedback is always welcome!
My Masterlist
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You sighed, head thrown back against the leather seat, back arched and legs spread wide as Dean scissored two of his thick fingers inside of you.
Soft lips caressed the sensitive skin of your neck and suckled at the spot behind your ear, which only added to the desperate throb of the walls of your pussy.
Your skin flushed and breathing laboured as he expertly rubbed at that spongey spot inside you, making you gasp and tense at the thrum of pleasure, tingling from the tops of your ears down to the tips of your toes.
The soft praises of; “you’re so wet”, “so beautiful” and “come for me baby”, followed by the lewd sounds of your dripping core against the harsh thrust of his digits, echoed in the small confinements of Baby’s backseat. Resulting in an ecstasy like state of desperation to reach your peak for him.
Your hands found purchase on his broad shoulders, the material covering his skin all but assaulted by your vice-like grip, as he brought you closer and closer to your impending crash.
You opened your eyes, gaze heated and glazed as you met fiery green orbs, drinking in your wrecked state with satisfaction and pride.
With his thumb now rubbing against your clit, you could feel your body begin to tense. The coil in your lower belly wound tight, ready to just about snap, when something over his shoulder caught your attention.
“Sam!” You gasped in an attempt to warn him. Though in your current state, it came out as more of a gasp of unmeant pleasure. But it had Dean’s fingers stilling instantly, drowning the flame he’d brought to life inside of you.
“What?” The shock was evident in his voice and the same eyes that had been filled with lust just moments ago, now laced with hurt at your outburst of his brother’s name. Made ten times worse at the fact it was whilst he was fingering you into oblivion.
Dread filled you at his harshly retracted fingers and you scrambled to explain before another fire brewed in his eyes, but this time with intent to burn rather than pleasure.
“Oh God, no baby! Sam is coming.” You guided his head in the direction of the other end on the motel’s parking lot, to where Sam was indeed approaching.
Relief flooded him like a cold drink of water quenching one’s thirst in a hot desert. His rapidly beating heart simmered somewhat at the realisation and he welcomed the soothing hand you ran through his short strands as he dropped his forehead to your shoulder.
You felt the rumble of his chuckle before you heard it, finding yourself joining in at the absurdity and worst timing ever of your boyfriend’s baby-bro.
“I guess we’re gonna have to pick this up another time.” He sighed disappointedly, but his eyes held a promise you clung to.
Sam Winchester was many things. A great hunter, empathetic and kind, your best friend. But mostly, he was the most oblivious cock block known to man.
For weeks you and Dean had been trying to have a little alone time. If it wasn’t the motel’s having only one twin room left, or a case taking its tole on you both to the point of pure exhaution, it was Sam’s impeccable timing.
You righted yourself by pulling on your discarded underwear and sleep-shorts, grimacing as the fabric met the mess between your legs.
Dean casually sucked his fingers clean of your juices, making your jaw drop and clit pulse in want.
Noticing your longing stare, he winked and slid a hand beneath his sweat pants to adjust the obvious tent, just in time for Sam to tap on the window.
“What are you guys doing out here? I tried calling you both for the past half hour.” Dean had opened the back seat and stepped out, allowing you to shuffle to the edge of the seat.
“I had a nightmare.” You lied easily as you stepped out of the car as well.
“I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake you, so Dean offered to sit with me, calm me down.”
If oscars were awarded for best lie told, you’re sure you’d be up there in the nominees. It wasn’t necessary to lie to Sam but it beat, “your brother was just fingering me in the back of his car because we never have any time alone away from you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Sam was sincere and his look sympathetic. It allowed for a shred of guilt to be had.
“Why were you looking for us anyway?” Dean interrupted, voice slightly rough and irritated, although Sam didn’t seem to notice.
“I found a case a couple of miles out. Three victims have turned up dead in the last week, all with their hearts missing. Sherif is calling it a vicious animal attack but, i figures we got ourselves a werewolf.”
Silence.
“And that couldn’t wait until morning.” Dean speaks up first. His agitation clear this time.
“Well, technically it is morning. It’s like five A M.” Sam shrugs like it’s nothing and you internally sigh.
“You’re right, we just lost track of time.” You force a smile and ignore Dean’s pointed look as a sudden plan forms in your mind.
“Let us freshen up and maybe you could grab us some coffee and breakfast? You know, since you’re the only one dressed and all.” You ask sweetly, hoping he takes the bait.
“Yeah sure. I was going to grab us all some breakfast anyway.” Sam offers.
Bingo.
“That’d be great, i’m starving.” You exaggerate with a hand on your stomach. In the corner of your eye, Dean gives you a funny look and it takes everything in you not to smirk.
“Okay, well i’ll see you in ten.” Sam says before making his way across the street toward the 24 hour diner.
Wasting no time, you grab Dean’s hand and roughly pull him with you toward the room.
“Woah, what in the-“ You shut him up with your lips roughly pressing to his once you enter the room. His back hitting the closed door with a dull thud.
“If you think i’m going to wait for God knows how long before i feel you inside me again. You’ve got another thing coming.” You explain in a rush as you tug his plain-black t-shirt over his head.
A smirk forms on his lips at your eagerness and Dean has to admit, it turns him on just how desperate you are.
“Oh, i like the way you think sweetheart.”
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You sat in the backseat of baby, irritable, uncomfortable and beyond sexually frustrated.
Your attempt to finish what you and Dean had started back in the room was short lived, when Sam returned only 2 minutes later, having forgotten his wallet.
To say you were in a mood was an understatement. And the permanent scowl on Dean’s face and his white knuckling grip on the steering wheel, told you he was right there with you.
In the end, the three of you figured out who the culprit was, or should you say culprits were, relatively quickly. It was a young man, Johnny Turner who was recently turned, which explained the sloppy kills. And you later discovered the pack who’d turned him, hiding out in a cabin just outside of town.
Overall, it was a successful hunt with minimum injuries and you had prevented a young girl from being the fourth victim. But three people had still died and a young man had to spend his last moments of life as a monster he never wanted to be.
You still remember the fear and confusion in his eyes at what he’d done. But then he’d went to attack you and ended up with three silver bullets from Dean’s gun lodged in his chest.
So, when you climbed into bed that night, Dean following shortly after you as Sam lightly snored away on the bed opposite. There were no wandering hands under the covers, working each other up until you were desperate enough to find yourself back in the back seat of baby. Just silence.
All in all, Sam’s case had inadvertently been another giant cock-block in itself.
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3 Days Later.
It wasn’t your most classiest moment, but you found yourself knelt on a grubby restroom floor; Dean above you with his jeans and boxers pushed down mid thigh as you took his heavy, achingly hard length into your mouth.
You could be ashamed at how horny you were. That you’d stoop so low as to pushing him into a disgusting bathroom stall; dropping to your knees and blowing him right then and there.
But after a whole day of watching him work on Baby, greased up, sweaty and watching his biceps flex as he adjusted loose bolts and nuts under the hood. It was like dangling a piece of meat in-front of a starving dog. You just had to take a bite.
After being unfairly teased all day, you had all ventured to the local dive in town. Of course, Sam came along, actually wanting to join in for once.
Despite your own sexual frustrations, you’d had a good time. Drunk Sam was a lot of fun and it was nice seeing everyone relaxed and with a smile on their face for once.
However, once Sam’s attention was preoccupied by a pretty brunette; and with a strong bout of liquid courage in your system, you’d taken advantage of the situation and summoned Dean to join you in the restroom.
You knew he was just as worked up as you were. You’d felt as much whilst playing a game pool earlier on in the night, when he’d pressed up against you, not so subtly and let you feel just how much the skirt you’d opted to wear turned him on.
So now here you were, sucking off your boyfriend in the restroom stall of a dive bar, like some horny teenager. But if his moans and grunts as he lightly thrusted his hips intime with the bobbing of your head, told you anything. It was that he was more than on board.
Your panties were beyond soaked and uncomfortable but, Dean’s laboured breath’s and flushed cheeks as you looked up at him; his balls drawing up tight in your palm as you let him fuck into your mouth, a tell tail sign he was close, had you doubling your efforts to get him there.
“Holy shit baby. Right there.” He panted as you breathed deeply through your nose and took him as deep as your gag reflex would allow. The hand holding your hair back tightened, bringing with it a sharp sting of pleasure, making you moan around him.
He was seconds away from his release, when a loud bang interrupted you. It was as if an ice-cold bucket of water had been poured over your heads.
Startled, Dean’s slick cock slipped from your lips as you jumped back in shock. The loud bang was shortly followed by a girly giggle and a mans chuckle.
You looked up at Dean, wide eyed and silently asking if he wanted you to continue, when you heard it.
The stall next you rattled as the couple stumbled inside, the sounds of lips lewdly smacking together and then a voice you’d recognise anywhere, instantly cleared your sex hazed fog and had you as dry as a desert.
It was Sam.
You’ve got to be kidding me, Dean’s look told you.
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One week later found the three of you pulling into Bobby’s for some much needed R&R.
After a week of non stop hunts, your bruised and beaten body needed at least a long weekend to recover. And the boys were more than inclined to agree.
As soon as your feet hit the gravel outside of Bobby’s house, you sighed in relief. The drive was long and your back, legs and butt ached from the lengthy position held.
“S’good to see you idgits.” Came the gruff greeting from Bobby as he stepped out the front door. You smiled at the term that had always been more out of endearment rather than as an insult.
You were the first to make your way over and fall into his embrace. Bobby always did give the best hugs. You’d missed him, a lot you realised as he gave you a big squeeze.
Although, your wince had him pulling back immediately to assess you with concern.
“Im all good, it’s just been a long week.” You explained truthfully and though he let it go, you could see he wasn’t fully satisfied with your answer.
“Mind if i grab a shower? I need to get the stink of hours being hot-boxed with the most gassiest man alive off of me.” You jab your finger blindly in Sam’s direction and miss his offended look.
Dean however, barks out a laugh to which Sam throws him his signature bitch-face.
“Hey, she’s not wrong man. S’probably all that rabbit food you eat.” Dean shrugs innocently, but is unable to contain his amusement.
“I’m not going to apologise for eating healthy Dean. Wouldn’t kill you to eat a salad once in a while mister, two double cheese burgers with extra bacon for breakfast.” Sam sasses back, mocking Dean’s gravelly voice. And in doing so, starts the endless bickering between the two brothers.
You decide then to make your escape, passing Bobby with a thankful hand on his shoulder and an apologetic look in your eyes as you make your way inside and upstairs toward the bathroom.
You drop your duffle to the floor and rummage through for some clean clothes. Luckily, you find a faded band t-shirt that you’re pretty sure once belonged to Dean and some leggings. It’ll have to do until you can take advantage of Bobby’s washer and dryer.
You’ll have to cook dinner as a thank you, you decide before peeling off your two day old clothes; grimacing slightly at the pain in your overused muscles and possibly bruised ribs.
You turn on the shower, making sure it’s on the verge of scolding, allowing for a billow of steam to encompass the medium sized bathroom, before stepping into the tub.
At first you flinch at warm spray in contrast to your much cooler skin, but quickly melt under the pressure and warmth seeping deep into your bones.
As you stand motionless, the weight of the last few weeks, possibly months, of being tense, unsatisfied and in pain, gradually releases it’s vice-like grip on you and washes away with the muck and grime accumulated on your skin.
Bliss. Thats what this was. Pure unadulterated bliss.
You’re so enraptured with the feeling, you don’t even notice him enter the room. Nor do you hear the shuffling of clothes being removed, or the curtain pulling back for him to step inside behind you.
It’s not until the coolness of his palms makes contact with your hips, do you startle and turn to meet the vibrant green eyes of your intruder.
“You don’t mind if i join you, do you?” Dean asks. As if you had a choice on the matter, as if you’d ever refuse.
You shake your head in both amusement and in answer to his question, and turn back around as he begins to lather his palms up with the body wash you’d brought with you.
A welcoming fruity smell of strawberries invades your sinuses and you soon hum in pleasure as his large, soapy hands glide across your skin. The act is incredibly intimate without the need to initiate into anything more than Dean simply taking care of you.
However, as his slick hands wander to your front, gliding across your stomach and up to lather your breasts. A fire that had been put out one too many times, reignites within you.
You bite your lip and lay your head back against his shoulder as his hands travel back south. Your breathing grows heavier as his seemingly innocent actions spark you to life.
The feel of his smile against the side of your head, tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing though. So as a form of punishment, you subtly press back against him, smiling devilishly at the feel of his hardening length against your lower back.
His breathing shallows as you slowly gyrate your hips back against him and your pussy throbs in need of something, anything.
The famous saying, ‘great minds think alike’ had never proven more true as Dean’s right hand continues its journey, until two of his thick digits part your wet folds.
You gasp as his middle finger begins to slowly circle your clit, causing an electric jolt of pleasure to course through your entire body.
“You’re so wet already baby.” Dean husks in your ear, just as he briefly dips a finger into your dripping hole before returning the coated digit to your clit.
Adding his forefinger, Dean begins to quicken the pace of his fingers and adds pressure onto the pulsing bundle of nerves, making you cry out and twitch and convulse in his embrace.
He holds you tightly to him by wrapping his other arm around your waist, as you shake and your stance falters, gripping onto the arm wrapped around you like a life line.
“Come for me baby.” You hear him all but growl, before you feel his soft lips begin to nip and suck at the sensitive junction between your neck and shoulder. His fingers are vigorous now and the coil wound tight within in you finally snaps.
Everything goes white; your veins like molten lava, fiery hot and melting your bones as the tremors of your well- overdue orgasm course through you.
“Fuuuck.” You can’t help but moan as your tense body slowly becomes like jelly against the strength of your boyfriend. Dean holds you upright as you slowly come to and only loosens his hold when he knows you’re able to stand on your own.
For a moment you feel like you had died and gone to heaven. Utterly relaxed and boneless, you smile dopily until the numbness fades and the overwhelming need to feel him inside you takes over.
You twist in his embrace and pull his face down to crash your lips to his. It’s messy, all tongue and clashing teeth, both blinded by pure desire and pent up frustrations.
You slide a hand between your bodies and glide your hand up and down his length. He’s hard as a rock and seeping at the tip, which you gather in your palm as you continue to jerk him off.
“Shit.” He pulls away with a hiss, eyes closed tight as he presses his forehead to yours. You bite your lip as you take him in, forever impressed of the beauty that is Dean Winchester.
His hand moves to stop you suddenly and he meets your questioning look with pupils blown wide.
“I’m not gonna last if you keep it up. Need to be inside you now.” He all but growls before sliding his hands under your thighs and lifting you effortlessly into his arms.
You wrap your legs securely around his waist as he pushes you against the tile. The coolness brings out a gasp that’s soon swallowed by Dean’s all consuming, toe curling kiss.
“Please.” You beg as you pull away for a needed breath. Too worked up to vocalise anything else. Dean understands you though and shifts you higher up the wall, using it as leverage as he frees an arm to guide himself into you.
Your eyes cross as he slowly descends you onto his cock. The stretch is both overwhelming and not enough at the same time as he bottoms out. It’s a feeling you’ve missed gravely and he hasn’t even moved yet.
“Holy fuck.” Dean groans deep in his throat at the feel of your tight, warm walls finally wrapped around him. A feeling he’s been starved of for too damn long.
“You feel so good baby.” You praise and cup his cheek to guide his lips back to yours. He slowly slides his way out of you until just his tip remains, before thrusting back in with a sharp snap of his hips.
The action makes you cry out breathlessly, eyes wide in the most painful pleasure. You keep your eyes locked when he does it again, mouth agape in a silent scream with each drag of his length against your sensitive walls.
He builds up a confident rhythm, hitting you in the sweet spot every time, making your toes curl and breathing labour.
“Fuck i’ve missed the feel of you.” You moan particularly loudly when he hits the right spot.
“You’re so tight and wet. Fuck.” Dean groans as he picks up the pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin, almost overshadowing the patter of the showers spray.
You’re close, you can feel it. Feel it in the way your lower belly clenches and limbs tense as your nerve endings spark with each thrust.
Dean’s close too. His panting breaths making way for the odd growl to slip out as he strains with effort to keep you both up. His own limbs starting to flutter in strength at his impending release.
Just as you’re about to loose it, there’s knock on the door, causing Dean to still and you to bite your lip in attempt to stop a frustrated groan.
“Hey Y/N? Have you seen Dean? I need the keys to the impala.” Sam’s muffled voice carried through the door.
Dean looks livid, but you look at him questioning eyes. ‘What do i say?’
It takes a moment, but Deans irritation fades and a sly smirk replaces it.
“I’m in here Sammy!” Dean calls out and your eyes widen in shock. However, you’re unable to say a thing when he shifts his hips, slowly dragging his cock almost all the way out, before pushing just as slowly back in.
Your mouth drops open and eyes flutter as he repeats the action.
“Wait why are you…” Sam trails off and you almost don’t hear his “oh.” Of realisation.
“Might not wanna traumatise yourself Sammy.” Dean calls out, just before he snaps his hips harshly into you again, and you can’t help but cry out. Your cheeks blush at the fact Sam could hear you.
“Dean!” You scold in a hushed whisper, but he doesn’t stop, making you bite your lip to stop from crying out more. Thankfully you hear Sam’s footsteps quickly retreat.
“I’m done with interruptions.” Dean all but growls before crashing his lips to yours. His hips begin to piston into you at an almost bruising, quickly bringing you both back to the brink. Your cries of pleasure muffle against his lips and your hands tangle in his hair harshly, making him moan.
“Fuck i’m going to cum.” You gasp, head thrown back and back arching as much as was possible in the position you were in.
“Let go baby. I’m right there with you.” Dean pants and you meet his eyes in a silent cry as you tense up. Your orgasm rippling through you like a bolt of electricity.
“Fuuuuck.” Dean quickly follows you with a couple more thrusts. His body tensing as he grunts into your neck, each twitch of his cock as he empties his seed deep inside you, sending little aftershocks through your body.
You’re both breathing hard, even when he pulls back to look at you. Dopy smiles rise on your lips simultaneously, and laughter soon follows. Dean slowly puts you down on shaky legs, but keeps you close as he leans down to claim your lips once more.
It’s slow and passionate and striking you back to life as we speak. The smirk on Dean’s lips is all knowing and you want to smack away his smugness, but you can’t find it in you to make on that promise when his wandering hand cups your aching sex.
“Someone’s a needy girl, ain’t they.” He mumbles between kissing his way down your neck as his thick digits stroke you to life.
You gasp at the sensation, torn between too sensitive and desperate to feel more.
You glide your hand up his broad shoulder and through his damp hair before gripping tight enough to make him hiss. His eyes darken lustfully and you smirk a little at the feel of him twitching against you.
“You have no fucking idea.” You whisper, before pulling his lips to yours.
It’s safe to say Bobby’s water bill paid a price that day.
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floralscented · 1 month ago
Text
dean winchester x angel!reader — it's okay, it's okay.
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or, dean breaks everything he touches, including himself. or, the first time dove has to use her grace.
cw, angst, injured!dean, he walks you through it kind of, dean whimpers but at what cost
word count: 2k
notes, this doesn't count toward my vote. if dean x angel wins u WILL get another i am loyal to my word!! i just got this idea n needed to get it out before i forget < 3 sorry ahead of time if it is 1) sad or 2) sucks it's late ok </3
★ ˚⋆
everyone always says the same thing when the worst comes true, but it reigns true every time - this was never meant to happen.
sure, dean could have been more careful. sure, he could have spent more time worrying about his mortal, breakable body, and not the ageless angel who'd attached to his hip. he'd gotten... used to it, more than anything, because accepting it wasn't the right word.
no, he did not want you at his side at every turn. that gave him another body to fuss over, to make sure didn't get hurt, no matter the cost. even if it was irrational. but dammit, it was you.
you were resilient. he was certain you could take care of yourself, but he panicked when he saw the claw emerging from the pitch black, heading right for your direction. dean knew, logically, that you sensed it coming, that you could have protected yourself-
he took the swipe of gashes to the shoulder anyways. a long swipe. shoulder to sternum - couldn't feel it through the daze of adrenaline, but he could feel the blood. so much blood, and so close to his heart-
"dean!"
your voice pulses in his ears like its own heartbeat. is he losing consciousness? fuck.
your footsteps pound on the dusty dirt trail in the forest, running up to where he was slumped against the nearest tree. dean coughed, blood staining his bottom lip, metal and copper clashing violently on his tongue.
"hi, dove," he whispers, trying to breath life back into his voice, falling just short. "little worse for wear, aren't i?"
"now is not the time for jokes." you kneel next to him, your eyes flitting quickly over his body until they land on the wet crimson slashes across his chest. "you bleed."
his lips quirk, even as the adrenaline is wearing and he's starting to feel the stark pain of the extent of his injuries, because he can't help it. "i do bleed," he says, wincing as the huff of laughter falls out of his mouth rips at his already ripped skin. "s'what happens when you get hurt."
"why did you get hurt?" you demand, fierce and defiant even when he's facing death. good god, he adored you. "i will live. i heal. you..."
dean knew. he knew this. how did he explain this to you, when you didn't even understand what his feelings meant?
"i've heard i look pretty good covered in blood," he says instead. "that true?"
your nimble fingers clamp hard on dean's jaw, forcing him to turn and look at you. so much feist in one ageless body. "now. is not. the time."
"you're so pretty," he breathes, his eyes melting in and out of focus. "so damn pretty when you're mad at me."
your face contorts in a mix of confusion and outrage. this, he thought, is why he doesn't tell you the other things he's been dying for in his mind. as much as dean loves your furious pout, as much as he loves the way you take that damn lip between your teeth again as you think how to stop his dying, it's better to keep you at a distance.
"the bag," dean nods to the duffel he'd dropped in his haste, a couple of feet from you, "get the bag for me, sweet girl."
he can sense the why? on your lips, and smiles, just slightly, when it doesn't come. too detrimental of circumstances for you to question is every ask and call, it seems. how bittersweet it is to be a priority only when he's dying.
you clamber back over with the bag, all but dropping it on his knee in your hurry. dean didn't even tell you what to look for before you'd unzipped it and started digging. "there's bandage wrap in there, somewhere," he rasps out, nodding his head toward you, even though you're not looking at him, "need it. to stop the bleeding."
your hands are shaking. he has nothing else to look at but you - wouldn't look anywhere else regardless - but it's the first thing his eyes lock on. "hey," he says, a little more firmly, even as it makes him wince, "s'okay. it's okay."
"you are dying, and i am useless." you snatch up a small square of shiny wrapping, and he has an explanation for why, exactly, he carries condoms everywhere, but you don't even question it. he forgot that you were too focused on him to be your usual, curious self. "this? will it protect you?"
dean pauses. now is not the time, your words echo in his head, and still, he can't help it. "protects a part of me."
you scoff, and he's upset, for a second, that the joke goes over your head. another thing he should have taught you about. upset again when you the condom also goes over your head and into the dirt with your dismissive toss.
should have. how dramatic was that? already thinking in past tense, because the pain has ebbed again, and that's never good. he was relatively calm before when he could feel it, knowing that, at the very least, it meant he could feel, but-
your hands pluck out the little roll of bandage, shaking fingers tugging at the loose end and starting to unravel it. "yeah, you've got it. not useless, dove," he mumbles, shaking his head like he vehemently denies that bogus claim. "never useless."
"what do i do with it?"
dean lifts his shirt up and over again, wincing again with a deep rumbling whimper as he feels the tear again of his skin, his muscles. a wave of nausea renders him dizzy and speechless. his arms stay raised, his vision swimming.
your irritation is so evident on your face that he's certain, right then, he's never seen you so frustrated. dean wanted to ask why, especially after all of the times you've asked him that. he didn't understand your irritation with yourself. all he needed from you was to cover up the wounds so that you could heal him without risk of him bleeding out.
"you want picked up?" you ask, tilting your head in front of dean's to force his eyes to focus on you again. "now is not the time, again."
"no-" he says, lips twitching in the corners. at the very least, you were keeping him present and conscious, what with all of your adorable attitude. he licks his dry, cracked lips and tries to ignore the copper taste on his tongue. "take that end and wrap it around. like..."
dean doesn't know if you know what a vest is, or a sash, because you don't seem to know half as much as castiel does. maybe what cas meant when he brought you into the winchesters' lives was that your naivety ran so deep because you were a new angel, a fawn trying to catch its footing and stumbling along the way.
he watches as it clicks in your mind, what he means. you are so much smarter than he gives you credit for. he leans forward, mouth falling open in a shuddery, whimpering gasp. luckily, you don't stop what you're doing and ask if he's okay. your care, it seems, either doesn't extend that far, or extends farther due to the gravity of the situation.
you straddle him as you wrap the gauze around and around, and it's damn distracting, having you this close to him again. "do it until you don't see any more of the claw marks, yeah?"
your head moves in a nod but your eyes never once leave him, focused on the task at hand. winding and winding, the gauze tightening and tightening, until his chest feels stiff with it.
"s'good," he says, raising his hand to rest his fingers on your wrist. "great job, sweet girl. here-"
his fingers walk their way down your hand until he takes the roll of gauze between them, moving the strip to his teeth and tearing until it ripped free from the roll. "there we go."
again, you stare at him expectantly, only this time, he's staring right back at you with the same anticipation in his eyes. "go on, dove. do your divine thing."
a blink. a second blink. "i don't know how."
his heart, he thinks, falls down to his ass. bypasses the gaping wound in his sternum and drops.
"that would have been great to know before i took the fucking-" he can't even be mad at you. he's dizzy, starting to shiver, and yet the idea of hurting you made him feel worse than all of those things combined.
"i did not ask you to!" no, you didn't, but what was a man who was used to jumping in front of the bullets to do? "i did not ask, and you were not supposed to be stupid."
dean forces a strained smile. "sweetheart, s'kind of my thing."
you bend down, still straddling, close enough that your nose brushes his. fuck. he was going to die without knowing what it was like to close that gap. "not the time-"
"for jokes, yeah, i- i get that," he grumbles, throat thick, spluttering on a cough. blood splatters in a hapless pattern on his shirt, on yours. "think i'm- allowed t'joke when i'm dyin'."
"you are not." your eyes stay locked onto his. there's so much passion in them that they glimmer and glitter even now, in the dead of night. "not, to either of those things. i will..."
dean hates your expression. the defeated, helpless panic in it a stark contrast to your resilient eyes. he wants to comfort you. wants to smooth the pinched skin between your brows with his thumb, but everything's starting to feel a little heavy. "cas-" his head thumps back against the wall. "uses his hands. touch."
your expression softens. there it is again, that determined gleam overtaking every other emotion on your face. there's my girl, he thinks, even though it's a thought he's never allowed himself to think before, about you. his inhibitions are lessened now, though, and who is he to hide a thing from you?
slowly, your hands lift to his cheeks, cupping his face between your palms. your skin is so warm, and his is so cold, and he can't look away from your eyes. dean's never believed in someone as much as he does you, right now.
your eyes close, and he's still looking. his head leans forward and knocks against yours, like he can't get close enough. he'd do anything to know what your lips tasted like. if they were as sweet as you were, or as furious as you tended to get.
"it's not-" you growl, and he opens his mouth to say something to counteract the rush of heat your gravelly voice shoots through his icy veins, when- "fuck it."
two beats of shock wrack through him, and he has no time, not a split second at all, to prepare for the way your mouth crashes into his. his eyes blink wide in shock before a wave of warmth starts in his chest and spreads like roots through his blood and deep in his veins. he sees the blue-white flash of your grace as it spreads around the both of you.
you pull back so suddenly that your lips pop, staring at him expectantly. no, not dean, his red soaked bandages on the outside of his torn shirt. you give him no time to process it before you're clawing at it, tearing it down the center. "jesus, dove-" his eyes drop down to follow your gaze.
the only remnants of his injury were the dried streaks of blood running down his chest, pale red and shiny in the areas still drying in the cold night air.
you laugh, soft and hesitant, and it's the prettiest noise dean has ever heard. "if i'd known i just had t'almost die t'get you to kiss me," he says slowly, "i'd have done it a lot sooner."
even if it was hardly a kiss - more of a collision. he'd just have to teach you how he liked it, later.
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tags,
@figthoughts, @jasvtsc, @titsout4nicholas, @deanswidow, @whyyouegg,
@bombarda-babe, @whisperingwillowxox, @underground-secret,
@bitchykittenconnoisseur, @jensenacklesantidote,
@keira-kaz2y5, @ostaramoon, @depressionbarbie2023, @ultravi0lence14, @loverslantern,
@bleuatlas, @minettacreekk, @sthefferrete
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