#dean fanfic oneshot | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jays-bonnie-on-the-side · 4 months ago

Text

FIRST TIME

PAIRING : teenage!dean winchester x teenage!fem!reader (au)

SUMMARY : reader finally decides to give her virginity to dean

WARNINGS : young love. fluff. smut. horniness. cunnilingus. fingering. under-aged sex. rough sex. semi-pubic sex. unprotected p in v. aftercare. attentive dean. strong language. praise kink.

A/N : this oneshot is a prequal to homework [if you haven't read it yet, go check it out!] thank you to everyone who's read and supported it, it means the world. i plan on making a few more oneshots (that could be read on its own) in this universe. let me know what you think 😆

Your eight-month anniversary with Dean was today. In a (good) way, it felt longer. Growing up, you were taught to respect your body. You were told to wait for marriage before having a man worship at your temple. It was "the best gift you could give your husband," at least that's what they said. Until now, you haven't had a problem waiting. Sure, you had urges from time to time like any teenager, but no one had made you feel how you felt with Dean.

The longer you spent with him, the more you craved. It wasn't just his physical attributes but his personality, too. Every exchange of words, every shared moment, and every heartfelt conversation only entrenched your love even further. It was the way he protected you, cared for you, and loved you that made you feel safe. Until you, he had no interest in dating. Why would he when all he wanted from girls was something they offered him freely?

You had been the first girl ever to deny him, and that's what drew him in. He wasn't looking for a relationship, but hearing the word 'no' intrigued him. Suddenly, finding ways to get your attention was his priority. Whether it was meeting you at your locker every morning with flowers, seeing you after school to offer you a ride home, or even cornering your best friend for help winning you over, he didn't stop. It wasn't until you overhead your peers discuss how Dean dismissed any girl who engaged with him that you took him seriously.

And there he was again, at your locker, with the brightest bouquet of tulips, your favorite. His charming smile beams towards you, filling you with joy from across the hall. Students pass by, talking amongst themselves about you. "Watch, she's going to blow him off again." "How could she do that? He's so hot." "He's only trying to win her over to get in her pants. She's not even that cute." Even though it wasn't in your nature to ignore them, you chose not to cause a scene, not with them anyway.

A smile lit up your face as you focused on Dean. "Hey," You greet once you're standing before him.

"Hey, beautiful," You couldn't help but blush at the pet name, loving how it sounded coming from his mouth.

He hands you the flowers, and you happily accept them. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He leans against the locker beside yours, watching you open your own. You inhaled the bouquet before gently placing the tulips inside. "I'm sure I know the answer to this, but would you like to go out sometime?"

You close your locker and stare into his dreamy eyes as you reply, "I'd love to."

His face lit up like a kid on Christmas. It seemed he was ready for you to turn him down again, and as much as he wanted, he didn't expect you to say yes. He leaned away from the lockers as a smile stretched across his face. His infectious smile brought one of your own. You always imagined saying those words to him, and now that you did, it was better than you had dreamed it would be.

"Really? T-that's great! Does tonight work?"

"Yeah, tonight's perfect."

"Awesome, I'll pick you up at eight."

You weren't a bold person, but you couldn't resist standing on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. Your hand rests against his arm, maintaining your balance as your lips press against his face. Even though your gesture was small, he closed his eyes and enjoyed your lingering kiss. You slowly pull away and lean back on your heels. The passing crowd seemed to still at the publicly displayed affection. Hush conversations began as everyone gawked at you two. Before doubt could seep in, Dean grasped your attention.

"Don't listen to them."

You nodded, listening to his words and ignoring the others. "I'll see you tonight."

The Impala comes to a soft halt in the middle of the grassy field like it did all those nights ago. A smile appears when you realize he's recreating your first date. Dean had taken you to his favorite diner in town as the sun had set before coming here. The pur of the engine ceases, and his door creaks open. You've learned over the months to wait for your boyfriend rather than exiting Baby by yourself. Despite your protests, he insisted on being the gentleman his parents raised him to be, someone he was, only with you.

Dean helps you onto the hood, then joins. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. Your backs lean against the windshield, heads tilted towards the night sky. Stars litter the dark canvas above, shining as bright as the first time he brought you. A warm breeze blew through the trees, over the open field, and towards the Impala. Crickets play their song as the rustle of leaves hum from afar. It was a scene out of a romance novel.

A content smile found its home on your face. You didn't need to talk to feel comfortable with him and were confident he felt the same. Being in his presence alone filled you with a sense of safety. Dean has had his share of fights defending you, whether you wanted him to or not. He never gave you a reason to doubt him, and you knew deep in your soul that wouldn't change. That's why you decided tonight was the night you'd give yourself to him completely.

Tearing your gaze from the stars, you direct your admiration towards your boyfriend. Feeling your stare, he turns his undivided attention towards you. You lean forward and connect your lips with his. He doesn't waste a moment to kiss you back with just as much passion. His hand runs through your hair, sending tingling sensations across your scalp. You breathe him in, quickly accepting his tongue. He leans over your body, deepening the kiss. Eager for more, you push him back against the windshield and straddle his hips. Your ass grinds against his lap, and he pulls your hair, breaking the kiss, only to attach his mouth to your neck.

Small moans escape your peppered throat, the light breeze carrying them away. The feeling of Dean's growing member rubbing against your entrance made you apathetic toward the marks he was leaving behind. You'd happily deal with the evidence later. Your eyes squeeze shut as the friction becomes overwhelming. Shallow breaths leave your lungs as tension quickly builds in the pit of your stomach.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other at the bottom of your spine, he lays you across on the hood. He hovers over your body before continuing the actions from before. Dean harshly rubs his bulging jeans against yours, and your legs wrap around his hips to pull him closer. Your body clings to his, only encouraging him to grind harder. Desperation gets the best of you when your walls clench around nothing.

"I need you," You breathe out.

Dean stops his movements and stares into your eyes, asking, "What?"

"I need you—I want you."

"A-are you sure?" He inquires as he rises to a seated position.

"Yes, D." You sit too and reassure him. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. What better time than on our anniversary?"

He hesitates but says, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't expect—I would've planned it out if I knew you were ready. I imagined our first time—your first time—to be perfect. Not in the back seat of my car; You mean so much more than that."

"I know, but it can still be perfect."

"How?"

"Well..." You take his hand in yours, squeezing gently. "I think losing my virginity to the boy I love under the stars sounds pretty perfect to me."

"That sounds great, but the 'where' part is still an issue."

You glance around your surroundings before settling with, "Right here."

His eyebrows draw together. "On the hood?"

"Beats the backseat for my first time. And, I don't know, having sex on the hood of the Impala sounds sexier."

A dry chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head. "Does it now?"

"Mhm," You hum as you scoot closer.

He inhales sharply once you gently press your lips against his throat, instantly finding his sweet spot. Because your relationship hadn't gone further than second base, you both had gotten pretty good at teasing each other. You had to admit, there were a few times when you almost caved out of sheer lust. But tonight was different: you were ready. A grin plays on your lips as your other hand trails down to his tightening jeans. Groans fall from his mouth as you palm his erection and sink your teeth into his sensitive skin.

Your hand undoes his pants, and before you can slip your hand in, he lays you back down. His lips capture yours, and you quickly move in sync. You pull his shirt up, hinting you wanted it off. He complies and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the ground. As he kneels in front of you, you pull his jeans down and see his boner through the fabric of his boxers.

After discarding his pants, he reaches for yours to peel them off. As he did that, you quickly took your shirt off. You were both now in your undergarments, staring hungrily at one another. He hovers over you and kisses down your neck towards your chest. Your body goes hot, growing hornier by the second. His fingers drag the straps of your bra off your shoulders as his mouth places wet kisses on the top of your breasts. You arch your back, giving him access to unhook your bra.

The outline of his cock presses into your clit, distracting you from your unruly thoughts. His warm tongue finds your left nipple, licking it before taking it into his mouth and gently sucking. He doesn't leave the right one unoccupied for long. His fingers lightly pinch and twist your hardened nipple. You close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure his mouth, fingers, and dick are creating. The intensity of his member grinding against your clit and the stimulation of both your nipples were driving you to the edge. Suddenly, his mouth unlatches itself from you, causing you to open your eyes in confusion.

Dean's large hands run down your thighs, sending goosebumps along your skin. His fingers loop around the waistband of your underwear, and before he goes further, he silently asks if it's okay. You nod and watch as he pries your soaked panties from your body. Instinctively, you try closing your legs, feeling insecure. Flush ran throughout your entire body. You had never been this intimate with someone, and it was frightening. He detects your lack of confidence and promptly makes you feel comfortable.

"You're so beautiful." He praises. "So much better than I ever imagined."

His fingertips lightly ran over your skin as if he were afraid to hurt you. They cupped the back of your knees and gently lifted until they bent. Dean slowly kisses down your thighs, and between each peck, he compliments you. You feel your insecurity disappear the closer he gets to your most intimate area. Without wasting another moment, his face devours your pussy as if he were a starved man. You arch your back as he licks your cunt clean, skillfully working through your folds. Your eyes roll back once his nose presses against your clit. Before you knew what was happening, you came all over his tongue.

"Oh, God," you pant with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to—I didn't know I was gonna cum so fast."

Dean lifts his head from between your thighs, the area around his mouth glossy with your juice. "Don't ever apologize, you got it?" After you nod, he dips down again, slurping up every last trace of your arousal, humming, "You taste so fucking good, princess."

You tug at his hair, squirming underneath his face. His thumb finds your bundle of nerves, rubbing it in circles, making your body unexpectedly jerk. You watch as he removes his countenance and trails kisses up your body. He lays on his side next to you before tucking his arm around your shoulders. The beating of your heart quickens as he applies the right amount of pressure you didn't know your clit needed. Your hips buck upwards while a whine slips past your lips, wanting more.

His fingers travel further down, running through your glistening folds. You knew what came next, the anticipation deafening. Slowly, he slides his index finger inside you. A content sigh falls from your mouth, enjoying how his digit drives in and out of your cunt. Dean sees your pleased and lazy smile, and a smirk emerges on his lips before adding another finger. You inhale deeply, feeling the difference between one and two fingers. It doesn't take long before his thick fingers pleasure you once again.

You bite your lip to stifle your moans, not wanting to annoy your boyfriend with your uncontrollable squeals. He notices and mumbles against the side of your mouth, "Let it out, princess. I want to hear every little sound you make."

That was all you needed to hear. Dean's fingers worked faster, taking you near the edge, and your moans told him so. They grow louder with each thrust, but the moment his fingers curled, you lost it. Your hand grabbed his hair, holding on as he fingered your g-spot. The muscles in your stomach contract, and you get that feeling again; your climax begins. You close your legs, thighs wrapping around his arm, making the high intensify. His consistency doesn't falter, and his digits fuck you, only taking you higher. Once it ends, your legs fall, and he pulls his hand away.

Your chest rises and falls, trying to catch your breath. Dean brings his drenched hand to his mouth, his eyes finding yours before closing his lips around his fingers and pulling them out at an agonizingly slow pace. Fuck, you thought. Watching him suck your fluids from his digits alone could've made you cum again. Your left-hand slips into his boxers before wrapping around his erection. A small groan falls from his lips, having never been touched like this by you. Without having to see his length, you felt it was rather long. You pumped his silky soft cock a few times and felt him twitch. His previously soaked hand pulls off his remaining clothing, freeing his large member. Your eyes widen; He's much bigger than you imagined.

How was he going to fit? You wonder. He saw the worry in your eyes and ran his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your face before kissing the tip of your nose. Dean gently grasped the hand that held him and intertwined your fingers together as he hovered over you. He nudges your knees apart, and you happily allow him between your legs. This was it. This was what you both have been waiting—what felt like anyway—an eternity for. Your mind was ready, but you weren't sure if your body was.

"It's going to be okay, sweetheart," Dean reassures. "I'll go as slow as you need."

You nod, intoxicated by his affectionate attentiveness. "Okay."

His lips connect with yours, kissing your nerves away. He rubs his tip through your folds, coating it with your wetness. You break apart and angle your head to watch his cock disappear in your awaiting pussy. The pain as he stretches your walls rips through your body, forcing your eyes shut. Your face scrunches in discomfort as he pushes in further. Whines come from your mouth as he slowly bottoms out. Dean stays still, kissing your forehead as you adjust to his size.

"I know, princess, I'm sorry. I promise it'll feel better."

You nod in response. Soon, your eyes open as the pain becomes tolerable, whispering, "Okay, you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Dean's eyes scan over your countenance, trying to detect any lies. When he saw none, he began to move. You inhale sharply as the pain rushes back. His hips stop their retraction, but you quickly shake your head in protest.

"Keep going," You say through gritted teeth.

Without question, he pulls back until his tip threatens to slip out. Slowly, he drives back in. You squeeze his hand and wrap the other around his shoulder as your legs cling to his torso. His lips pepper your face with kisses as he continues to thrust the discomfort away. Over the months, you've seen the womanizer everyone knew Dean as vanish. He always took care of you—physically, mentally, and emotionally. You couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, especially right now. His effort to soothe you seemed to have worked. The pain turned to pleasure, and you ached for more.

"Faster," You murmur into his ear.

He bit his lip, trying to distract himself from spilling his cum so soon, but the way your walls squeezed around him made it nearly impossible. Dean picks up his speed, playing his own game of russian roulette. You felt his cock twitch inside you, prompting a moan and the tightening of your insides. He buries his head into your neck, attempting to postpone his climax. The pleasure began to build in your stomach, and per his earlier request, you made it known.

"Fuck, babe. If you keep it up, I'm going to cum." He groans.

You giggle, "Isn't that the point?"

He thrusts deeper, answering, "Not until you do."

A new wave of satisfaction washes over your body, making you moan louder, begging, "Harder."

Dean complies, bucking his hips into the back of your thighs. His name fell from your lips like a prayer. You untangle your hand from his and dig your nails into his back. Sure, you had daydreamed of having sex with your boyfriend hundreds of times, but you never imagined it being this mind-blowing. His member deliciously bruises your g-spot, causing pain and pleasure to fight for dominance. Sounds you never thought you could make fall from your mouth, encouraging him to quicken his pace. The Impala rocked side to side, utilizing the suspension's swaybar with each vigorous thrust.

"Fuck, Dean. Just like that, baby. Don't stop." You beg between moans.

The tension in your belly threatened to snap any second. The area just under his waist rubs against your clit, coercing your chest to arch into his. He presses you into the warm hood, keeping your squirming to a minimum. Tears flood your eyes as your immense climax approaches. Your body tenses as it braces for your last orgasm, squeezing Dean's phallus for dear life.

"Cum on my cock, princess." He urges as he fights off his own release. "I know you can do it. Mm... 'Want to feel you come undone on my dick. C'mon, sweetheart, do it for me."

His words were all you needed to fall over the edge. Except you didn't fall, you flew. Your fluids gushed on his member as you screamed into the night air. His thrusts began to falter, but he forced himself to ride you through your high. Your toes curl while your eyes roll back, your climax taking control of your body.

Unable to fight off his orgasm any longer, he hurriedly asks, "Where do you want it?"

You can barely form words as your body shakes uncontrollably. "D-d-does-n't ma-tter."

The weight of Dean's body lifts from yours as he sits back, pulling himself out and grabbing his wet member. Your eyes refocus in time to see him accidentally ejaculate on your folds. His cock twitches again, this time spraying across your upper body. A breathy groan falls from his parted lips as ropes of hot cum coat your skin. You feel his seed drip towards your entrance, daring to breed life with you. The thought of carrying his child brings a smile to your face. No, no. You're too young, you remind yourself. Can't start a family with him yet. He bends over your body and kisses your lips. He presses his softening dick against your wet folds as you kiss him back.

"As much as I love bathing in your cum, I think I wanna clean up so we can cuddle." You pant, trying to catch your breath on the way down from your high.

He chuckles against your lips before sitting up again. "I'll be right back."

Dean climbs off the Impala and opens the back door. You lay still as the fluids threaten to leak onto the hood. He shuts the door, returning with a blanket in one hand and napkins and a water bottle in the other. He sets the blanket on the windshield before hopping next to you. He wipes the mess away and uses the water to remove the stickiness left behind. Once he finished cleaning you up, he tossed the dirty napkins off the car. He lays beside you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into his bare chest, listening to the beat of his heart as he pulls the blanket around you two.

He stares at the night sky, gazing at the stars, when you confess, "I love you."

Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head, mumbling against your hair, "I love you too, sweet pea."

"Thank you for being my first."

His hand gently lifts your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. "Thank you for trusting me to be your first."

Your lips curl into a smile, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST

FOREVER TAGS : @jaredpadonlyyyy, @nicksalchemy1, @impala67rollingthroughtown, @nancymcl

DEAN TAGS : @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles, @angelbunny222, @niktwazny303, @criminalyetminimal, @angelicp0etry, @lucid315

SUPERNATURAL TAGS : @nikimisery, @celticma

JENSEN TAGS : @cheynovak, @deadlymistletoe, @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld, @ladysparkles78, @kindollss, @1-read-the-hobbit-in-1937

: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform

*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, headers, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.

1K notes · View notes

lanadelnegan · 7 months ago

Note

stepdad negan stepdad negan stepdad negan stepdad negan

his pretty lil stepdaughter and stepdad negan

Daddy Issues

Warnings: 18+, smut, slow burn with lots of sexual tension, time jumps (reader ages from 18-20, negan is in his 40s), age-gap, very taboo relationship (if this isn’t your thing, pls don’t read), p in v, extreme daddy kink, oral (both), masturbating in front of him, lots of dirty talk (negan being absolutely filthy), breeding

“Isn’t your dad home?”

“He’s asleep, don’t worry.” You smiled, pulling your boyfriend by his shirt and kissing him. It was a quarter past midnight, there was no way Negan would still be waiting up on you. You discarded your clothes on the living room floor before bending over the couch. Your knees pressed into the cushions while your boyfriend lined himself up behind you and entered you with one quick thrust.

You moaned, resting your forehead on the arm of the couch while he plowed into you from behind. He gripped your hair and pulled, forcing you to look up. And when you did, you locked eyes with your stepdad standing in the door frame to the hallway just across the living room. His dark gaze was fixed on you, an unreadable expression on his face as he stood with his arms crossed.

Your boyfriend must not have noticed him, because his thrusting didn’t stop and only became harder, making you gasp. You couldn’t look away from Negan, being intrigued by his willingness to stay and watch you. Moaning even louder, you put on a show for him. Negan’s gaze roamed to your breasts that were bouncing with each thrust before slowly trailing back to your eyes.

Like you had fantasized about a million times, you imagined that it was Negan behind you, and that thought alone was enough to make you come undone.

“Daddyyy!” You cried out, making a small smirk appear on Negan’s face before he disappeared down the hall and to his bedroom.

2 years later:

Negan never told your mom what happened. In fact, he never even mentioned it to you either. It was like the entire thing never happened. Your mom started working out of town more and more. In fact, she was hardly ever home, which made Negan step up and become the strict parent. It was super annoying, especially when he would lecture you about your clothing.

“I’m 20.” You scoffed like you couldn’t believe this was even an issue. When are you going to start treating me like an adult?!”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Go change, now.”

“Make me.” You realized how childish it sounded coming out of your mouth, but you didn’t care. You wanted to push his buttons.

“Do not test me, sweetheart.”

You crossed your arms defiantly, looking up at him, unwilling to move. Before you realized what was happening, you were being thrown over his shoulder. You yelped, trying to grab him, but his grasp was tight on your back thigh as you hung upside down. He carried you up the stairs without saying a word.

“Is this necessary?” You yelled, blood rushing to your head.

When he made it to your bedroom, he kicked the door open and threw you on the bed.

“What is wrong with you?!” You screamed.

He ignored you again, going to your closet and shifting through all your clothes before finding a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt to throw at you.

“Are you serious? It’s the middle of summer.” You threw the clothes back at him.

“Maybe if you owned a pair of decent shorts, this wouldn’t be an issue.”

You stared at him in disbelief. He wasn’t joking. He leaned against the doorframe of your closet and your mind flashed back to the moment 2 years ago - an image you replay in your head often.

“Fine.” You stood and removed your shirt, revealing a pink bra underneath.

“Y/n.” He warned. “What are you doing?” His voice was almost a whisper.

“Changing.” You shrugged, pulling off your skirt, leaving you in nothing but a small pair of panties that matched your bra.

Negan’s eyes remained on yours, refusing to look down at your body.

“What’s wrong? Nothing you haven’t seen before.” You smirked.

“You’re grounded. You can forget about going out tonight.”

“Then I guess I won’t need this either.” You hummed, unclasping your bra and dropping it to the floor.

He gave in this time, dropping his eyes to your breasts. His jaw flexed like he was holding himself back.

“Bringing back memories, daddy?”

He walked towards you, stopping when he was close enough to look down at you.

“What would your mother say if she knew what a little slut you were?”

“Doesn’t matter. I have no respect for her after I found out she cheated on you.”

Negan’s brows scrunched together as he searched your eyes. You bent over, pressing your ass to his crotch as you pulled your phone from your skirt pocket that was on the floor. He sighed frustratedly, taking a step back.

You handed him your phone after clicking on your mom’s messages. You almost felt bad for telling her secret, but she deserved it. Negan was so good to her and deserved to know the truth. His expression was blank as he read through the proof.

“I thought you deserved to know. I’m sorry.” You said sincerely.

He tossed the phone on the bed behind you. “Thanks, but I already knew.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I found out a while ago after seeing a text from him on her phone.”

“Oh.. then why are you still with her?” You asked, suddenly feeling silly being almost naked in front of him during a serious conversation.

“Somebody’s gotta take care of you.” He raised his eyebrows before turning and leaving your room. “Oh, and I meant what I said by the way. You’re grounded. For the rest of the weekend. And put some damn clothes on.” He said, shutting your door and leaving you in the uncomfortable silence of your room.

The next day:

You’ve spent the majority of the day in your room, transitioning between a book and scrolling on your phone. Anything to take your mind off the awkwardness of yesterday.

Negan has barely said a word to you in the couple times you’ve seen him today. Out of boredom, you decided to pop in your earbuds and watch an adult video on your phone. You found your favorite stepdad video that portrayed a man who looked extremely similar to Negan and your hand drifted underneath the covers as you played with yourself.

The volume on your earbuds was turned up to the max, so you didn’t hear your bedroom door open. You were so caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice him approaching you either until your phone was ripped from your hand. Pulling the blanket over yourself, you quickly shot up and pulled out your earbuds.

“What the fuck?!” You yelled, turning a bright shade of red when you realized he was watching the video. His expression was unreadable as he watched it for a moment and you wondered if he liked it. Turning the phone around to you, he raised his eyebrows.

“Seriously?” He said, reading the title of the video out loud and you wanted to die of embarrassment.

You jerked the phone out of his hand. “What happened to knocking? And what gives you the right to just take my phone? I’m an adult.”

“First of all, I did knock but clearly -" He paused, glancing at your phone before continuing. "..You didn’t hear me. Secondly, I pay for your phone, sweetheart. I can look at whatever I want.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Okay, so now what? I’m grounded even longer?"

“No. Now? You’re going to finish.”

Negan removed the blanket from your body and continued standing at the side of your bed. His hands slipped in his pockets and he nodded, giving you permission to continue.

“Are...are you serious…?”

“Orrr you can stay grounded. It’s up to you.”

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He wanted to watch you touch yourself. You adjusted yourself slightly, so that he could see your pussy completely. You were only in your panties and felt the wet spot that had already formed on them.

You moved your panties to the side with one hand, giving him a better view. Seeing him watch you with his eyes blown with lust was enough to make you wetter before you even touched yourself again. Reaching your other hand down, you ran a finger through your slit, getting it wet before circling your clit.

He didn’t take his eyes off your pussy and his jaw flexed when your finger dipped inside. Wet sounds filled the room as you started to moan softly, seeing the bulge in his pants grow bigger by the second.

“Negan.. I need your help, please.” You begged. His eyes met yours but he didn’t answer you. You could see he was losing his mind inside, and you knew you were close to breaking him.

“Can I just see it?” You asked, referring to his cock. “I’ve always wanted to know. Please?”

“No. Now be a good girl and show me what you can do. We both know you don’t need my help.” His adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he restrained himself. You did as he said, moaning louder and rubbing your clit faster. You felt your orgasm building quickly and your breaths became frequent and shallow as you locked eyes with him.

“Daddy…” You whined.

As soon as the word came off your tongue, Negan caved - diving between your legs as he spread them wider. You held your panties back further, giving him more access and immediately cried out when his tongue dipped inside of you.

He groaned into you, burying his face deeper and licking every drop as you rode out your orgasm. You tried gripping his hair but he had already pulled away and took a few steps back. You sat up quickly, not wanting him to leave.

"Negan.."

“Fuck. That should not have happened."

“No, wait-“ You tried to explain but he left your room, closing the door behind him.

A few hours later:

“Come in.” You responded to the knock on your door.

“Hey kiddo, listen. About earlier.”

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” You said, keeping your eyes on your book.

He sighed, dropping his head. “It can't happen again. It shouldn't have in the first place. That was my fault, and I shouldn't-

You slammed your book shut, looking at him annoyed. "It wasn't your fault. I tried to seduce you.. more than once. And failed miserably. And honestly, I'm embarrassed, so please. Let's just forget about it."

"Sweetheart." He walked towards your bed, sitting at the edge. "You don't have to be embarrassed."

"You've seen me naked. And didn't do anything. You obviously don't want me or find me attractive, and I get that now."

"Woah, slow down." His large hand slid over your leg to comfort you. "You? Are the most beautiful thing in the world to me, y/n. You know that. But I-"

"But you don't want me in that way."

"Baby, this is about what I can't have. Not what I want."

"If you never met my mom, and we ran into each other.. would you..?" Your cheeks turned pink and you couldn't finish your question.

"Yes. Without question, darlin'."

A tear slipped down your cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb, looking down at you like he wanted to take your pain away.

"I wish you would have met me first." You whispered.

He got up and kissed your forehead. "Me too." He mumbled, and you questioned if he actually said it or if you just heard it in your head.

You stopped him before he left the room. "Negan?"

"Yea, doll?"

"Am I still grounded?"

He laughed, thinking for a moment. "Why? Somewhere you need to be?"

"No, actually, I was thinking we could.. spend some time together tonight and watch a movie in the theater room like we used to?"

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely, sweetheart. You gonna let me choose the movie for once?"

"Not a chance." You laughed, knowing you always get your way. And you always will.

Later that night:

The smell of buttery popcorn filtered through your bedroom as you stepped out of the shower. You couldn't help but smile as you got ready for movie night, smothering your skin in your favorite lotion and pulling on your cheekiest pair of underwear. You dug through your t-shirt drawer, pulling out one of Negan's old rock band tees that you stole years ago. It was big enough on you to cover your ass, so you passed on wearing pants.

“So that’s where that shirt went.” He laughed as you walked into the kitchen. “Been looking everywhere for it."

“Oh, I didn’t think you wore it anymore. You can have it back.” You said, making note of how good he looked. His hair was damp from a shower and grey sweatpants rested low on his waist, not leaving much to your imagination. You tried not to stare at the outline of his manhood, but it was impossible not to.

Negan approached you, handing you the popcorn bowl and your favorite candy while he grabbed your drinks.

“No way, darlin’. It looks much better on you.” His tone was flirty as he stood towering beside you, darting his tongue out to slide seductively over his bottom lip. He smelled amazing, too - like leather soap.

"Decide on a movie?" He asked, following behind you down the stairs to the renovated movie room. You had spent so many weekend nights in here as a kid but this was the first time you and Negan would be spending it together alone.

"I was thinking something we haven't seen before. There's a scary movie out that looks good."

"You hate scary movies." He chuckled, setting down the drinks on the coffee table and you did the same, picking up the remote and finding the movie.

"Yeah when I was a kid." You laughed. "Not anymore."

You started the movie and turned off the lights as Negan got settled in his usual spot - the wide chaise lounge end of the sectional where he could rest his legs out in front of him. The couch was hugely oversized, with the lounge part almost the size of a full bed.

You made your way over to the other side of the couch, trying to give him his space and not make it weird.

“The hell are you doing?”

You gave him a weird look. What do you mean?”

“You always sit next to me on movie night. Get your ass over here."

You hoped he couldn't see the excitement on your face as your heart beat out of his chest. He was right - you did always snuggle next to him during movie nights. But that was years ago, before you could look at him without imaging him on top of you screwing your brains out.

“Just like old times, huh?” You grinned, glancing at him as you both munched on the popcorn and watched the slow intro of the movie. You could sense his gaze on you but kept yours on the screen.

“Not exactly.”

“What’s different now?” You asked innocently.

His voice was low and raspy when he answered. “I know how your pussy tastes.”

Your face turned pink and butterflies in your stomach came to life. You didn’t know what to say, so you just looked at him. There was a small smirk on his face and his eyes dropped to your mouth. You were seconds away from crashing your lips to his when a girl in the movie screamed. Negan cleared his throat and focused his attention back to the movie, so you did the same, trying to calm down your racing heart in the process.

You both sat in silence for awhile before Negan leaned over you to put the popcorn on the table. When he settled back into the couch, his arm slid around your back as his thumb slipped underneath your shirt, holding your waist. You felt like your skin was on fire.

He noticed the goosebumps on your bare legs as you shivered from his touch. Reaching for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, he covered you both and you took the opportunity to snuggle into him closer, resting your head on his shoulder and laying your hand over his toned stomach. You wanted to slip your hand under his shirt too but you were frozen, waiting for him to make the next move.

Half of the movie flew by and you had no idea what was going on. All you could think about was Negan. You hid your face during the jump scares each time, using it as an excuse to bury your face in his shirt and smell his manly scent.

"You can look now." He chuckled. You slowly lifted your head from his shirt, and when you did, you locked eyes with him. His hand slid against your cheek, cupping your jaw before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours softly.

You kissed him back, and he deepened the kiss when he knew you were comfortable with it, letting his tongue slip past your lips and rub against yours. You accidentally whimpered as his other hand finally moved lower on your hip. His fingers teased the edge of your panties before dipping in a few inches until his hand was fully pressed against your ass cheek while he kissed you.

You followed his lead, sliding your hand lower on his stomach until it reached the top of his sweatpants. You felt his dick grow underneath your touch and stroked him through the material. Negan’s hips lifted slightly as he moaned into your mouth.

“I wanna taste you here, too, daddy.” You said, finally pulling away from his mouth and sliding his sweatpants down in the front.

“Baby….” He warned, but he didn’t tell you to stop. So you pushed the material down further until his cock sprang free and bounced against his stomach.

“It’s so big and.. pretty.” You said amazed as you stroked it. You studied the veins in it and noted how tiny your hand looked in comparison.

He chuckled softly, dipping his fingers deeper in your panties until they reached your soaked cunt from behind. “Not as pretty as this little pussy.”

You moaned, pushing your ass into his touch until his finger slid inside you. “Fuckin’ leaking for daddy already.”

You tried to focus on his cock while he fingered you, taking the tip in your mouth and getting it wet before letting it slide to the back of your throat.

“Ahhhh shit, baby, that’s it.” He groaned, leaning his head back with pleasure. You bobbed your head up and down his length while his free hand tangled in your hair and guided you.

“You are fantastic at this, baby girl. Making daddy feel so fucking good.”

A bead of his precum leaked into your mouth and you moaned around his cock, loving the taste of it. Finally coming up for air, you took a deep breath before he pulled you to his lips again and kissed you harder than before. You climbed over him, straddling his lap as he sank a little lower on the couch. Both of his hands reached in your panties and gripped your ass while you hovered over him, feeling his cock brush against you teasingly.

“Negan.. please.. I need you inside me.” You begged between kisses, making him instantly rip your panties apart with his hands before tossing them to the floor.

He guided you by your hips until the tip of his rock hard cock was aligned perfectly with your throbbing entrance.

"You sure this is what you want, baby?"

You answered him by sliding down and taking him as far as you could, stopping when it reached your limit. You whimpered at the pain of trying to take him deeper.

“Come on, doll. You wanted me so bad and now you’ve got me. Take it all.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You had never heard him talk this way. Not even through the walls when he fucked your mom. You bit down on your lip and sat on him completely, letting him reach a spot that no one had reached before.

“Oh my god.. fuck.. it hurts.” But in the best, otherworldly way.

“Look at me.” He gripped your jaw. “Focus on me, baby." He whispered, encouraging you trust him while you adjust to his size. You leaned your forehead against his as you started to move up and down. Slowly the pain was replaced with pure pleasure. A feeling you never knew existed before him.

“There you go, baby. Just like that.” He grunted, slipping his hands underneath your shirt and squeezing your tits. "Fuck, doll. You're making me feel so damn good."

Your cheeks were flushed while you moaned and buried your face into the side of his neck. His hands returned to your ass as he helped you bounce up and down on him faster.

Wet slapping sounds and moans from both of you echoed in the room like surround sound, drowning out the movie.

“Negan." You whined in his ear while grabbing at his hair. "I'm-" You couldn't finish your sentence. Your core tightened and your vision went blurry when warm liquid suddenly poured out of you and all over his lap.

“Fuuuck yes, that's my girl.” He groaned, looking down between you at the feeling of your juices coating his cock. He gave your ass a light smack before standing up and bending you over the couch. You still felt lightheaded when he entered you from behind, harder and somehow deeper this time.

“Oh my god! Negan!”

“Who?” He asked, jerking your hair back so that your back arched perfectly.

“Daddy!!” You corrected yourself, earning a small chuckle from him as he fucked you harder and faster.

“Ohh baby, you are such a good girl, taking daddy’s cock like this. You know how bad I’ve wanted to bend you over this fucking couch?”

You answered him with a louder moan while his balls slapped against your skin.

He laughed, breathlessly, pulling you back further by your hair until your back was pressed against his chest. "That day you teased me with your little prick boyfriend? ... It took everything in me not to walk over and fuck you myself. I should have made him watch instead so he could hear what you sound like when you actually cum."

"You should have." You moaned, barely about to speak.

He sucked on your neck before reaching around your waist and finding your clit. You leaned heavily against him as your felt another orgasm growing.

“Negan.. will you cum in me?”

He groaned in your ear. “I can’t baby. We can’t risk that.”

“Don’t you love me, daddy?” You asked innocently.

“So fucking much, sweetheart.” His thrusts became faster and his breathing was unsteady, telling you he was close.

“Then prove it.. Please daddy, cum in me.”

That was all it took for him to let out a loud, long groan and you knew from the way he stopped deep inside of you that ropes of his seed were splattering your walls. You came right after him, being completely sent over the edge with knowing your pussy was full of his cum. You both breathed heavily, coming down from your high before he finally pulled out of you.

“Goddamn. And here I thought you had me wrapped around your finger before. Now? You are mine, all of you, baby.” He said, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Negan.. what are we gonna do?” You asked worried.

“We’ll figure that out later, sweetheart. Right now? I wanna take you up to your room and eat that sweet pussy out till morning.”

2K notes · View notes

rubyvhs · 9 days ago

Text

just let me — dean winchester

content / you start having nightmares and hide it from dean; he, of course, finds out.

authors notes / fills my song prompt ‘all to myself by dan + shay’ @jacklesversebingo + idea came from a beautiful anon, I loved writing this

You were, very obviously, not falling asleep for the past week at least. Dean tried to talk to you about it; he’s still trying, even when you’re both winding down in the ‘Dean Cave,’ but it’s a lost cause—you’re completely ignoring him when he mentions it. He understands wanting some level of privacy or not being in the mood to talk your feelings out, but he knows it's deeper than that, and it's killing him that you don’t trust him enough to tell him.

Killing him is an understatement, but he doesn't even know what to do anymore—you’re completely pulling away the second he mentions anything sleep related. So he’s taking a different route. You're a pretty independent person; you didn't want to move into the bunker until you were a hundred percent sure this was it. But you still spend some nights here. You haven't in a month though (count it as Red Flag Number Ten).

“Hey, baby,” he says as he shuts off the TV and packs up the snacks you were both having while watching the movie. You start to help him before he shakes his head, making you pause. “Can you— uh, stay here? Tonight?”

You smile teasingly, looking up at him, “Mr. Winchester, are you asking me to have a sleepover with you?” You whisper, overexaggerating your words, and it earns you a soft laugh. Before you, Dean didn't have much reason to smile like he does now, he doesn't know what he’d do if you're no longer there with him, your usual teasing and happy self; which is exactly why he's trying to help you now.

“Shut up. Can you stay?”

“I don’t know, Dean.” You shrug, standing up as he does to bring the snack to the kitchen. You pull the door behind you after shutting off the lights. “I’m busy tomorrow, and it’s a long drive—”

“I’ll take you.”

“I wake up at six; we’ll have to get up at five to make it to my house in time.” You wonder out loud, though you’re fairly sure you could make it back to your house in less than thirty minutes if you try tomorrow, so you’re not scared to miss work or anything; you’re more so looking for a way to say no without it coming from you.

You don’t want to upset Dean, but you’ve already noticed him asking if you’re okay often, so maybe it’s time to tell him.

Four weeks ago, you accidently drove to a warehouse where you encountered a few Vamps. You’re not a hunter like Dean is, and so, naturally, you run as fast as you freakin’ can, which only does as little as you can guess it does. Thankfully, the Winchesters were there already and came to your rescue.

Ever since then, he insisted you stay in the bunker, but you’re nothing if not stubborn and decided you’re just fine. There’s no need for you to take up space here (even if you stay in it most of the time already and even if it’s so big that they wouldn’t even notice you moving in, let alone staying a couple of days).

So you stayed at your house, and you’ve been having nightmares every single freakin’ night. It’s exhausting, and you’re so unrested that you’re distressed you’re missing chunks of your days.

Selfishly, Dean is angry. He knows something is wrong; he’s sure it had to do with the vamps, yet you’re not talking to him about it. He thought when he asked you to be his, that meant: you’re his. You don’t need anyone else, he’ll help you through it; he’s been through it himself when he first found out about monsters. Granted, this is different (you knew about monsters just didn’t see them), but it’s similar enough that he can help you through it.

“C’mon.” He frowns, taking the plates from you while he talks. “Don’t be like that, you haven’t spent the night in a long time.” And it’s been driving him crazy. He slept just fine before you came along, then you had to ruin everything for him; now, he can’t even get a full five hours if he doesn’t hear your soft breaths in his arms.

“Yeah, I’m busy, you’re busy—”

“Bullshit.”

“Fine, Dean, I’ll spend the night.” Unlike you thought, his frown deepens. He washes his hand then walks over to you, his hands on your hips. “What?”

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Question of the year.

You ignore him, shrugging, then tell him you’ll be in his room. He waits a few minutes before he follows. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do if you’re not going to try with him. He’s asked you a dozen times at least, and yet you insist that nothing is wrong.

At least you staying over means no more hiding from him; Dean will find out what’s wrong—he won’t take no for an answer.

When he steps into his room to see you’re not inside, he assumes you’re getting ready for bed in the bathroom like you always do. He’s about to check before you shut the door behind you, jumping when you notice him.

Except it’s not a normal: ‘oh my god, Dean! You scared me’ moment. He’s pretty sure he saw your eyes watering— again, so not ‘fine’. Your stubbornness is something Dean's always admired about you, his lover, the person he gets to spend his life with, so it came to him as a surprise when you started using it against him.

He won’t let it come between you.

“Dean?” You ask silently when you look back at him from your spot on the bed, and he’s still standing in front of the bathroom.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” He reassures, glad to see you calm down after the scare. It doesn’t take long to turn off the lights and for your breaths to get shallower. He lets out a deep breath when he hears your soft, relaxed sighs, safe next to him once again. He’s not sure he could ever really share you (with your house, in this example. But in all honesty, he wouldn’t share you with anyone or anything, and he’s made that clear).

Dean takes a little more time to fall asleep, but he stays cuddled up next to you, one of his arms underneath your body, the other on your waist. He used to hate being this close to someone at first, never understood why he’d need to do it, but the more you weren’t by his side, the more he felt like he was losing a piece of himself. Dean will always seek you out.

That’s when he feels it. The small rustle of the sheets as you move around. He’s half asleep, and it’s subtle at first, enough that he doesn’t wake up fully. But you do it again, this time with low sobs, and it alarms him so much that he flips around, waking you up in a babbling mess of ‘what’ ‘where am I’ ‘oh my god’.

“Hey, hey.” Dean says, his hand coming to wrap around your arm. “You okay? You were crying.”

When you bring your hand up to your face, there are, in fact, tears running down your cheeks. You pull away from him completely, mumbling something he can’t quite hear before running to the bathroom in pitch black darkness. Alarm bells are fucking pounding in Dean’s head, but he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do.

He doesn’t get off the bed for a while, still debating his next move. He doesn’t want you to get angry at him but does that matter if you’re crying?

He decides he doesn’t give a fuck at you being upset with him and knocks harshly on the bathroom door that you locked behind you. “I’m fine, Dean.” He hears you call out a second after, which is complete bullshit, but he knows he has to be gentle in a situation like this one.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Let me in and tell me what happened.” It doesn’t take as much convincing as he thought it would, because he almost falls down when you open the door suddenly. He straightens up at your frowning figure, tear stricken face and red eyes. “Hey, what’s all this?” He steps closer, bringing you into his chest, and you don’t even struggle against him, you just let out a breath when your head’s on his chest.

“It hurts.” He’s not sure you’ll ever know how bad it hurts him hearing you say those words to him. “I see them every night, Dean. Every single night, they’re just in my dreams, and I can’t sleep, and I can’t— close my—”

Yeah, he gets it. He shrinks the distance between you and presses his lips to your head. “‘S okay.” He knows it isn’t. He can’t have you sleeping three hours a night and still overworking yourself. He can’t have you running around yourself trying to hide this from him when he’s the reason you’re like this.

He didn’t know that the nest would be there, but he knew you would be. He was the one who sent you the location and then your car broke down half way there— he was just glad your phone was still on.

But he doesn’t say all of that. Instead he breathes in your shampoo, thankful you’re so close, that he can smell and feel you. That he still has a chance to make it up to you.

“I’m sorry.” Your low voice breaks his heart a little more. “I didn’t— I know you do this all the time, and I shouldn’t cry, I know that.”

“Stop.” His voice comes out jagged, and it makes you look up at him. “It shouldn’t have happened in the first place; you should’ve never seen that. I’m sorry you did.”

You don’t think Dean’s ever once apologized to you.

“It’s fine to be scared.” His finger licks under your chin, the more contact with him, the more safe you feel. And it’s a terrifying emotion, being so relaxed with someone— enough to let all your inhibitions go. “I’m here for you, always.”

He might burst seeing you visibly calm down due to his words. The trust you have in him— he’s not sure if he deserves it, but he knows he won’t take it for granted. ”Back to bed?”

“Back to bed.” You don’t get your full eight hours, but it’s only because he woke you up a little earlier for some morning activities. You’re pretty sure it’s the best you’ve slept in a month.

507 notes · View notes

jensengirl83 · 29 days ago

Text

Unexpected Arrival

Dean x reader

Word Count-3490

Warnings- SMUT, fluff, language, sub!Dean

Summary- Dean thinks Y/N will be gone for a few more days on a hunt. What will she find when she comes back early to surprise him?

A/N- This fills the square "What happened to your hair?" for @jacklesversebingo. Also, a big thank you to my amazing beta @pink-sparkly-witch. Thank you for the encouragement and great feedback on my fics.

This has been on my Patreon for a few weeks. If you'd like to join and get access to my ficus weeks before they come to Tumblr, you can join my Patreon here. I have multiple tiers with different perks starting at $3 a month!

Y/N was exhausted. She’d been on a hunt for over a week that should’ve taken three days. All she wanted now was to get back to the bunker, back to Dean. It had been one of the few times they had hunted separately, and she’d missed him terribly. He and Sam had been out on their own hunt because she had wanted to take a slight break, but that changed when another hunter called, needing help to eliminate a werewolf pack. So, that’s why she was now tired, frustrated, and wanting nothing more than a hot shower and cuddling with her boyfriend.

The closer Y/N got to the bunker, the more her tension seemed to ebb away. As the miles raced away under her tires, she couldn’t help but smile a little. Just the thought of getting closer to Dean with every minute that passed helped with her frustration of being gone so long. He thought she would be gone a few more days, but luckily, she and her partner had found the pack and decimated it quicker than anticipated. She’d thought about calling and letting him know she was returning but decided to surprise him instead.

Finally, the bunker was in her sights. She sighed in relief as she made her way to the garage, parked her car, and got out, stretching her sore and aching muscles. She threw her duffle over her shoulder and began the trek to the war room, hoping that Dean would be there, wanting to see the surprise on his face when she walked in. But, as she took her first steps into the room, he was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Sam stood there, his own duffle slung over his shoulder.

“Hey, Sam,” she greeted, “Are you heading out?”

“Hey, Y/N,” he returned her greeting, “Yeah, Jody needs help with a vamp’s nest.”

“Don’t you ever take a break? How long have you guys been back, anyway?”

“We got back a couple of days ago. I’ve had time to rest,” he chuckled at her worry. She was always making sure they were taken care of.

“Okay, just please be careful, and let us know how it’s going. Do you know where Dean is?”

“He said something about going to watch a movie and relax. He’s been looking forward to you coming home. You know how Dean is; he won’t outwardly say it, but he really missed you,” Sam smiled, patting her on the shoulder as he walked past, heading for the garage.

“I missed him. That’s why I didn’t call. I wanted to surprise him,” she exclaimed gleefully. The thought of his excitement at seeing her made her stomach swim with butterflies.

“He’ll definitely be surprised. I’ll see you when I get back. It shouldn’t be more than a few days.”

“Be safe,” she told him, leaning up to kiss his cheek as he left, leaving her alone in the war room.

Once Sam was gone, she threw her things on the war room table, stretching her muscles again before she started her journey down the hall to her and Dean’s shared room. The excitement of knowing they had the bunker to themselves for a few days put a pep in her step. She was going to try to convince Dean to take this time to spend it together. No hunts, no outside distractions. Just the two of them lounging around, watching movies, spending long overdue quality time together. It wasn’t often that they were the only ones home. Sam was rarely not there with them or in the front seat of the Impala on their hunts. So, she wanted to take full advantage of the time they could have together the next few days.

As she got closer to their room, the thoughts of everything they could do while alone made her want to giggle like a little girl. She loved that green-eyed hunter down the hall more than she could ever describe. It had taken a while, but she finally managed to get him to fully let her in and open up to her in ways that he hadn’t with anyone else, which made her love for him grow exponentially. But all thoughts ceased as she got to their doorway. The sound of a grunt coming from the cracked door made her stop in her tracks. Was he okay? Was he in pain? She rushed the last few steps to the room, peeking in, but what she saw froze her in her spot. Dean was lying in their bed, hand under the sheets, head thrown back in ecstasy.

“Yes, Y/N, God, it feels so good,” he groaned, his hand visibly stroking his hard length.

She couldn’t help but stare, the sight making her weak in the knees and that familiar heat growing between her legs. The sound of a woman moaning brought her back to the present. For a split second, her heart dropped, but then she realized it was coming from the porn he was watching. Her eyes broke from Dean to the screen, and what she witnessed gave her an idea.

“So, how much does it turn you on to watch her be in control?” she questioned seductively, announcing her presence and making Dean jump in surprise.

“Y/N! I-I, uh, how long have you been back?” he stuttered, quickly moving his hand away, flustered that he had been caught.

“Long enough to see that you’re having a pretty good time there, handsome,” she quipped, turning her eyes back to the screen where the woman was clearly dominating her partner, “But you didn’t answer my question. How turned on are you to see a woman being dominant?”

“I, well, uh,” he continued to stumble through his words as he reached for the remote control to turn off the movie.

“Uh uh. Leave it on,” she demanded authoritatively, slowly stripping off her flannel as she moved closer to the bed. She watched as he quivered at her tone. “Now, answer me.”

“It turns me on,” he mumbled quickly, barely audible.

“Oh, come on,” she chastised, now down to her underwear as she stood beside the bed, “You can do better than that.”

“Fine, it really turns me on,” he said sheepishly, eyes cast down, not wanting to see her expression at his admission.

She smirked, her tiredness ebbing away and turning into a burning desire for the man sitting before her. If that turned him on, she would give him something he’d never forget. But she had to make sure it was something he wanted. They’d always been good about trying new things, but only if both were up for it. So, placing her fingers under his chin, tilting his face to look at her, she smiled down at him.

“You want me to do it? Want me to dominate you?”

“Are you serious?” he asked, his cock twitching at the thought that one of his secret fantasies may be coming to life.

She grabbed his face between her fingers a little roughly, pulling his face closer to hers as she leaned down to look into his eyes, “Do I look like I’m joking?”

Before she knew what was happening, he had her pulled down into his lap, his mouth covering hers in a bruising kiss, his tongue swiping against her bottom lip, asking for entrance. She let him run the show for a minute, but when she felt him start grinding his hips up against hers, she pulled away, making him whine.

“Now, here’s how it’s going to go. You’re going to listen to what I tell you, and if you disobey, I stop, understand?” she stated, watching his pupils dilate, almost completely taking over the emerald green of his eyes.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Yes, what?” she asked, grabbing his hair, tugging harshly, his body shaking with want.

“Yes, ma’am!” he exclaimed excitedly. She was going to ruin him, and he was all for it.

“Good. Now, you can touch me only when I say you can, and you cannot touch yourself at all. Are you sure you want this?” she asked one more time, ensuring he really wanted this.

“Yes, I want it. Y/N, I promise I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” he smiled up at her. She always worried about him and his well-being. That’s one of the many reasons he loved her.

“Alright. Then get ready to have your mind blown, big boy,” she winked, slowly beginning to grind down against him, his hands instinctively grabbing her hips.

“What did I just say about touching,” she scolded, moving off his lap and standing beside the bed.

“I’m sorry! It’s just instinct! I won’t do it again!” he almost begged. He wanted, no needed, to feel her against him again.

“Dean…I have to punish you for that. Maybe you’ll learn to listen.”

“No, please, baby. I need to feel you. God, I’ve missed feeling you,” he whined, reaching out to touch her but remembering and pulling his hand back, dropping it in his lap.

“Shh, babe. You’ll feel me, just not right now. Now, scoot up,” she motioned for him to move so she could sit behind him on the bed as she removed the rest of her clothes. He obliged, but not without a pout.

“Ahh, are you pouting, Dean? Good boys don’t pout. Don’t you want to be a good boy and get the rewards they get?” she whispered in his ear as she ran her hands down his arms, moving over to his abdomen, making his muscles tense and then release.

“Yes, God. I’ll be good,” he grunted as she scraped her nails up and down his stomach.

“That’s what I want to hear. Now, lean back,” she instructed him to lean his body back against hers, his head on her shoulder as her hands continued to roam.

“Baby…” he began to utter his pleas, but she moved her finger up to his mouth to quiet him.

“You hear that? Do you hear the sounds she’s making? Does that turn you on, Dean? Will you let me use you to make myself feel that good, huh? Let me ride you until I come so hard, squeeze around you so tight,” she whispered in his ear, nudging his head to look at the movie, his breath hitching in his throat as her hands moved all around where he wanted her to touch him. It was tortuous, but he couldn’t deny that he was turned on more than he had been in a long time. The thought of her using him to get her pleasure made him hard as a rock. He couldn’t contain the loud moan that escaped him.

“That’s it. Let me hear you, babe. Such a good boy for me,” she cooed, feeling his body shiver with need. It made her want him even more, her body reacting. She ground herself against his backside, needing friction. “You feel how wet I am, Dean? Damn, I can’t wait to feel you inside me, filling me up so good, filling me up the way only your big cock can.”

“Y/N, baby, please! I can’t take anymore. I need you so bad. Please, please…” he began to beg, the need to feel her wrapped around him, controlling all his senses.

“Already begging? Does my good boy need me, need to come for me?”

“Yes! I need you so bad. I’ve missed you and how you feel. Please, baby,” he pleaded, fists clenching the sheets beside him, her hands still teasing him, “I’m not going to last if you keep teasing me!”

She smirked at his desperation. What she wasn’t going to admit was that seeing him that turned on and begging for her was slowly chipping away at her restraint. Being away from him and not feeling him for over a week made her body thrum with the need for him, too. She slid from behind him and motioned for him to scoot back against the headboard. Once he was positioned where she wanted him, she climbed back into his lap.

“I’m going to give you what you want, Dean, but remember, hands to yourself until I say otherwise. Got it?” she made sure the rules were clear as she slowly ground herself against him, his tip catching her swollen clit, bringing low moans out of her.

“No touching, got it. Just please, sweetheart, stop teasing me and let me feel you,” he groaned as the feeling of her pussy, warm and slick, grinding against him slowly drove him insane.

“That’s not how this works. You wanted me to dominate you, right? That means you get what I give you when I want to give it. Understand?” she said, pulling his hair, causing his head to tilt back to look up at her.

“Yes, yes, I understand.”

“Yes, what, Dean?” she smirked as she rolled her hips again and watched his eyes roll back.

“Yes, ma’am! God, Y/N, you’re killing me…”

“Oh, but what a pleasurable death it will be,” she moaned in his ear as she lifted herself, grabbing his cock and lining it up with her entrance, dropping down to take all of him in one motion.

Dean couldn’t stop the scream that tore from his throat as he felt her heat surround him suddenly. He had to twist the sheets tighter in his grip to prevent his hands from grabbing her hips, making her bounce on him fast and hard, but he had asked her to dominate him, so he had to follow the rules, even though he thought it might be the death of him.

Dean shut his eyes and gritted his teeth. It was taking all his willpower not to finish before her. He had never been dominated like this before, and he loved it. The feeling of her tight pussy taking him to the hilt, and the sexy moans leaving her as she chased her end, were driving him mad. He wanted to grab her hips and help her move against him, but he knew he couldn’t.

Y/N watched Dean’s eyes flutter shut, his knuckles turning white from his grip on the sheets, his teeth indenting his bottom lip as he sucked into his mouth, trying to contain the many noises that wanted to bubble up and out of him, but she wasn’t having that. She pulled his lip from his teeth with her thumb, his eyes shooting open from the contact as she began to grind slowly in his lap.

“No, Dean. No keeping quiet. Let me hear all those beautifully sinful noises I plan to draw out of you,” she told him as she began to move faster, the sexiest whimper she’d ever heard leaving past his lips, “Yes, that’s it, that’s my good boy. I’ll have you screaming my name before I’m done.”

“God, Y/N…y-you feel so damn good. R-riding me so fucking good. Please, let me touch you. I need to touch you,” he begged, the restraint of not touching starting to become too much.

“Does my good boy want to touch me?” she felt his whole body shudder at the praise, making her smile. Had she known that praising him would get that kind of reaction, she would’ve done it much sooner, “Okay, Dean. Since you’ve been good, you can touch me.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, his hands were on her hips, his grip almost bruising, his hips meeting hers as he pulled her up and down on him. She ran her hands into his hair, grasping it in handfuls as she continued to ride him hard, making him moan loudly. The sounds he was making made her clench around him, which, in turn, made him moan loudly again. It was a cycle that was quickly driving them both towards their ends.

“Sweetheart, you gotta hurry. I can’t hold it much longer,” he growled through clenched teeth, the vein in his neck protruding out in his effort to hold back.

“Be a good boy and make me come, then,” she demanded, her legs starting to shake with the exertion.

Dean reached down between them, rubbing her clit in harsh circles as he thrust up into her as hard as he could. He knew she was getting close as he felt her begin to flutter and clench around him even more. A few more circles on her nub, and she was gone, falling over the edge, screaming his name as one of the most intense orgasms she ever had rushed through her. He grabbed her hips, pistoning up at a faster pace for a few seconds before her orgasm triggered his. He stilled deep within her, shouting her name as he shook all over, filling her up.

She collapsed against his chest, his hands instinctively running up and down her back slowly. They sat there silently, trying to catch their breaths for a few minutes before Y/N giggled. The motion of her body moving made him hiss. His softening length was sensitive from one of the strongest orgasms he’d ever had. Y/N sat up abruptly, making him groan.

“Oh, God. Did I hurt you?” she asked, her eyes wide with worry.

“No, sweetheart, I’m fine,” he chuckled, “I’m just a little sensitive, and when you started to laugh, it made you move on him. And I do believe he’s down for the count for a while.”

“Are you saying that little Dean isn’t up for playing anymore?” she laughed as he rolled his eyes.

“One, don’t call him that, and two, yes, he’s done for the night. Sweetheart, you damn near killed me,” he groaned as she started to wiggle in his lap, teasing him. He helped her move from his lap to sit beside him on the bed.

“So, I take it that means you enjoyed it?”

“Enjoyed it? Y/N, baby, that was indescribable. I’m just sorry I didn’t ask for that sooner.”

“Well, I’m happy I could be of service,” she stood from the bed and curtsied, causing Dean to burst out in full-body laughter.

“You’re something else, sweetheart,” he whispered, pulling her closer and kissing her hard, “Now, how about we talk about the roles being reversed sometime?”

“You want to dominate me?” she asked, putting her finger on her chin like she was contemplating, “I do believe that’d be fun.”

“Then we’ll have to make plans for that, but first, I’m fucking starving. Let’s go to the kitchen, make us a snack, and then we come back here and watch a movie.”

“Another movie?” she questioned with a smirk, gesturing to the TV where the porn was still playing.

“Damn it, woman. A real movie, not the sexy kind,” he huffed, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV before slapping her on the ass, “Now, about that snack?”

She laughed as they threw on their pajamas and made their way down the hall toward the kitchen. As they got closer, a sound made them freeze. Dean motioned for her to get behind him as they tiptoed around the corner, their bodies relaxing when they saw it was just Sam.

“Hey guys, Jody called as I was about thirty minutes from here and told me they had taken care of the nest, so I didn’t have to go after all." He was explaining why he was there when he stopped and stared, “What happened to your hair? You look like Sonic the Hedgehog.”

Y/N couldn’t contain the fits of laughter. She was doubled over, holding her sides as Dean looked on with his best bitchface. Her hands pulling on his hair had made it stick up in all different directions. Sam spoke again as she finally started calming down, sending her into another fit of giggles.

“You know what, I don’t want to know. From the looks of you both, I know why, and now I wish I could bleach the image from my mind.”

“Well, Sammy,” Dean smirked, pulling Y/N to his side, “What can I tell you? I aim to please.”

“Excuse me. Who was doing the pleasing this time?” Y/N grinned, poking Dean in the chest.

“Oh, God. I’m going to my room. I don’t want to hear this!” Sam groaned, leaving the kitchen.

“Be glad you weren’t here thirty minutes ago, or you’d have heard plenty!” Y/N shouted at his retreating form as she and Dean started cackling.

Sam groaned again as he walked away. A thought crossed his mind as he heard them continue to laugh as he made it further down the hallway.

“If I didn’t love them, I’d go back in there and stab them to death,” he mumbled to himself as he walked into his room and slammed the door, hoping he wouldn’t hear anything else from them the rest of the night.

@flamencodiva @foxyjwls007 @emoryhemsworth @valsworldofcreativity @hardcoresupernaturalfans

@msmarvelouswinchester @lyarr24 @ellewritesfix05 @defenderrosetyler

@hobby27 @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @squirrelnotsam @tatted-trina6 @xhannahbananax03 @coffeebooksandfandom @deans-baby-momma @lovelyrocker @fablesrose

@maralisa124 @wayward-dreamer @aimee-ginge @donnaintx @screechingartisancashbailiff

@itsdesiree86 @kyjey @roxytheimmortal @briagallen @aubageddon91

@stoneyggirl2 @kitkatd7 @brilovesdeanwinchester @allonsy-yesiwill @krazykelly

@440mxs-wife @rebelemilu @sarahbaker2010 @tyferbebe @metalfangirl

@redbarn1995 @thoughts-and-funnies @izzathequeen @heavensangel45135 @entersand-man

@supraveng @hintsofhoney @bobbie3939 @waynes-multiverse @katelyn--renee

@thinkinghardhardlythinking @makeadealwithdean @deandreamer @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @pink-sparkly-witch

@samsgirl93 @maliburenee @thelastpyle @nancymcl @marvelouslyme96

@muhahaha303 @maggiegirl17 @slamminmine @ladysparkles78 @deanwinchestersgirl27

542 notes · View notes

prentissluvr · 3 months ago

Text

the language of love isn't dead — dean winchester

cw : gn!reader, fluff, frenemies to lovers, petty arguments, ft. sam!, dean is annoying obviously <3, reader speaks latin (i used google translate and it is probably very wrong lol), kissing, one mention of a sexual innuendo, a few joking death threats, non-serious mentions of choking, poorly edited, 2.4K words. requested !

summary : you tend to compliment dean in the dead language of latin after fights so that he doesn't know what you really think about him.

MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!

“you’re being ridiculous,” you frown at dean, arms crossed against your chest as you stare him down in tonight’s motel room.

“ridiculous?” he parrots, indignant. “this is baby we’re talking about. my car. you know, the ‘67 black chevy impala i would kill a man over?”

“yeah, i know her,” you reply, sarcastic in tone. “and your homicidal tendencies when it comes to her. i’m very familiar, dean.” you roll your eyes at him because you just can’t help it. dean makes it very easy to get annoyed at, for a multitude of reasons.

reason number one, he’s annoying. reason number two, he’s very hot when he’s angry. reason number three, he’s very hot pretty much all the time. it does not help that sam got first dibs on the shower, so he’s still covered in a bit of grime and blood from the hunt you just walked away from. it’s his best look, aside from any time that he smiles.

“well, then you should know that getting her perfectly tended to and polished leather seats dirty with wendy’s barbecue sauce is like a goddamn felony and i should sentence you to life of never even stepping foot near my car again,” he fires back, and if you didn’t know him well, which you do, you’d venture to guess that he’s joking. he’s not.

you groan in frustration. “for the last time, i did not get barbecue sauce on your car seats,” you insist.

“i saw you sneaking fries before we got to the room,” he counters, narrowing his eyes at you. “you could have gotten grease on the leather too.”

“i ate two fries dean, and i was careful. i used a napkin and i did not open my barbecue sauce!” you spit back at him. you can’t believe you’re arguing about this right now. except that it is so believable and so like you and him. it’s not like either one of you is going to back down, certainly not about something so petty and meaningless.

“then how come i found some in the back seat?” he says for what feels like the millionth time.

you throw your hands up in the air. “i don’t know! i don’t even use my barbecue sauce for my fries. there’s no reason for me to have opened it!” you argue, huffing out a frustrated sigh. “and how do you even know it was barbecue sauce?”

“it looked like barbecue sauce, it wasn’t there yesterday, you’re the only one who orders it and the only one who’s sat in the back since then. therefore, barbecue sauce,” he admonishes, crossing his arms over his chest to punctuate his point. you can’t help but laugh at him a little bit. he just sounds so ridiculous.

“well then, let’s say it was barbecue sauce—which it wasn’t. did the leather get damaged?” you ask pointedly.

“that doesn’t matter!” he practically rages, taking a step towards you. god, he’s beautiful and you hate him for it (you really, really love him for it). “what matters is that you got it dirty!”

“jesus, dean! just drop it, your car is fine!” you chastise, your voice raising a little in volume as you take another step towards him. you can see his light freckles better now. they’re so goddamn pretty it makes you want to choke him.

“just drop it?” he repeats, fuming. “i will not ‘just drop it.’ this is about baby. i can’t ‘just drop’ something about baby! how can i even trust you enough to let you in my car again, huh?” this is the point where he’s serious, but not that serious. there’s clear frustration and anger in his voice, but he’s stuck with you and he knows it. and when he asks that final question, his volume lessens and he shrugs. he’s looking for you to grovel or offer something to appease him. the question is whether or not to give him that. your instinct is, of course, to not. you let out a huff of breath.

“well, maybe because i’m excellent company in the car,” you suggest, a gloating tone making its way into your voice. “and i like your music better than sam does. which means we always outnumber him. that’s very important.”

he’s unimpressed, clearly. “you gotta come up with something better than that, sweetheart,” he goads.

you curl your lip at him and roll your eyes. “you absolutely suck, dean,” you state. he raises his eyebrows and you groan and roll your eyes yet again. that’s not the word to use around him unless you want a sexual innuendo thrown in your face. “you are absolutely horrible, dean,” you amend.

he laughs at you and his annoyance mostly subsides. “which means i have no problem getting back at you tenfold for getting goddamn barbecue sauce on my car seat.”

“te respicere bonum cum iratus es, ita dampnas,” you grumble, shaking your head and glaring at him. like tradition, you end the argument with a certain latin phrase full of choice words.

now dean, sweet, lovely, silly, gorgeous dean, has no idea what you’re saying. he doesn’t care to learn enough latin for that. he doesn’t need to know, he thinks. your tone of voice says it all. he thinks those choice words are the type that one fills an insult with. today you tell him, “you look so damn good when you’re angry.” which, funnily enough, is not an insult.

it’s the perfect way of looking him in the eye and just spitting it out. you get to say without consequence what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, what you want to tell him so badly. it’s not the same as him knowing, but it helps. it eases your tension until the next time, it softens the blow a little.

sam fails to hold in his laugh behind you. you whirl around and glare at him, freshly dressed and out of the shower. you hadn’t even heard him leave the bathroom. narrowing your eyes at him, you tell your long time best friend, say something and you die. he puts his hands up in surrender, still laughing at you a little.

“shut up,” you grumble, then turn back to dean with a scowl.

“what was that little nerd exchange?” dean teases, realizing sam understood what you said.

“nothing,” you glower. “i’m showering now!”

dean throws his hands up in protest. “you’re making me shower last after getting barbecue sauce on my car?”

“dean, i swear to the lord in heaven, if you–”

“fine, fine!” he relents, the sarcasm and teasing still clearly present in his voice. “you’re right, you should shower first, you probably have barbecue sauce all over ya.” you raise your fist in a threat and it’s dean’s turn to put his hands up in surrender. “i’m just saying!”

“stop saying!” you groan. “just– stop talking, i’m gonna lose my mind.” if i have to stare at your gorgeous face and listen to your gorgeous voice for another second i will go crazy. you sigh heavily. god, you wonder if you could survive not kissing him. monsters and demons and all the strange shit in the world… that’s fine. it sucks but, jesus, at least you know how to deal with them.

but doing it all with dean? you have no idea how to deal with that. so far, it’s by arguing with him, complimenting him in a dead language, and keeping him at an arm’s length. and so far, it’s not working out too well, because you still want him. you still want him to want you back. you still wish and wish and wish that the language of love isn’t dead, not for you and him, not yet, at least.

maybe the shower will help. this motel doesn’t have the worst showers; the water pressure is decent and the water stays hot for a while longer than some others.

you’re not annoyed when you finish, at least, not about his stupid accusations of you getting condiments on his car seats. unfortunately, you are still annoyed about how attracted you are to him. even more unfortunate, you suppose, is that you’re attracted to him, period.

you sigh because you can’t bring yourself to actually try not to be. not that anyone can reverse feelings, but you let your feelings run rampant, more than you should sometimes. you let him eat away at your heart like a goddman movie zombie that’s too stupid to remember it eats brains. then, you figure that the thought of him eats away at your brain too, because he messes with your rationality sometimes.

his eyes are on you as you leave the bathroom and you wonder if sam’s tattled on you. when you shoot him a look he shrugs and shakes his head. you’re not convinced, but you let it slide. you plop down on the pullout couch bed and pack your old clothes away, ignoring dean’s heavy gaze. only when the door to the bathroom opens and closes do you flop against the bed with a heaving sigh.

“i hate your brother,” you grumble, barely loud enough for sam to hear as the muffled sounds of the shower turning on hits your ears. you turn to your side and curl up, not even bothering to pull the sheet over yourself.

you can’t see sam, but you hear him scoff from his spot on his own bed. “sure you do,” he quips, completely sarcastic.

“no, i really, really do,” you insist, not meaning a word of it.

“well, he hates you too, then,” he answers, voice heavy with implication. you know what he means because he knows what you mean. hate, of course, is love.

“no, he doesn’t,” you counter, sad about it. you bet that no one’s ever sounded so disappointed that someone doesn’t ‘hate’ them.

“you’re hopeless.” sam’s probably shaking his head at you as he reads the words on the book in his lap.

“i’m hopeless,” you sigh.

⟢⟢⟢

it’s not until a few days later that dean confronts you about your little latin digs at him. sam did tattle, only because he’s tired of your pining, but dean won’t tell you that. he’s smart enough to know you’ll end up with your hands around sam’s neck if you end up finding out, and he’s not trying to have his… person strangle his little brother.

“hey, idiot,” he starts, the word layered with affection. “why do you always insult me in latin? sorta feels like you lose the point of insulting someone to their face like that.”

he’s leaning against the hood of his car, beer in hand like always. it’s oddly uncommon to find yourself like this; outside, alone with him. the motel’s not busy and there are barely any other cars in the parking lot, and even less people. it’s just you and him as far as you can see. the night air is mild, cicadas singing as summer begins to slip away.

“well… maybe the point is that you know i’m saying something about you, but you don’t know what,” you shrug, sort of proud of the smooth answer. you’re not even lying. inside, you’re panicking a bit. this is dangerous territory.

“the stuff you’re saying is that horrible, huh?” his tone suggests a joke. his eyes suggest otherwise. it makes you pause.

how unfair is it, to the both of you, to lie? to even joke that you’d say such mean things about him? about dean winchester, whom you know sort of hates himself. who has just two people by his side, you and sam.

and you, who only argues with him because it’s easier than being nice. you, who deserves what you want but won’t let yourself even try to have it.

“no,” you sigh out. “i’m not saying horrible stuff about you.” you don’t look at him, you don’t mess around. you take the joking in his voice and strip it away. you take the look in his eyes and put it in yours. it makes him look at you, for once. it’s easy to imagine his eyebrows raising, his lips caught somewhere between his signature smirk and a curious frown. “not in latin, anyways,” you add, letting a huff of laughter leak into your bitter voice.

dean keeps looking at you. you know you’re supposed to explain after saying something like that, but you’d much rather not.

“no?” he asks finally. now you have to say something more.

“no,” you confirm, still staring at the trees across the street instead of him. the street lights are orange in color, and it feels either cruel or hopeful that it’s such a beautiful night. “i… say it in latin because it’s something nice. and you can… ignore this, if you want. i say it in latin because i like you a lot, dean. y’know, more than a stupid, fucking friend.” you roll your eyes a bit, like you’re upset with yourself. then you swallow thickly and ignore the fact that you can see him in your peripheral vision. he doesn’t look like he normally does. he doesn’t look angry.

dean is torn between teasing you and kissing you. you sound mad about the fact that you have feelings for him, like you wish you didn’t. ‘more than a stupid, fucking friend’ is a real funny way to phrase things, if he’s honest with himself. the question is, does he say that to you, or does he look for something better to say? he’s not good with ‘better things to say,’ whatever that might be.

“a little aggressive for a love confession, no?” his voice isn’t even that teasing. it’s sort of gentle. he wants to slap his hand over his mouth for saying that godforsaken four letter word. you had said ‘like.’ it’s freudian slip, he supposes, since he loves you.

“this isn’t funny, dean,” you murmur, voice sort of defeated. and yet, you hear it. it’s not funny to him either. he wasn’t trying to be funny, he was trying not to feel. he was trying to say at least something, because he was having trouble coming up with anything else.

“i know,” he relents. he draws in a deep breath. “will you look at me?” your lips part, then close. you blink a few times. you turn your head and look at him. god, he loves you back. he’s got to, or there’s no other way to explain how he looks at you.

and there’s definitely no other way to explain him kissing you. he looks you right in the eyes and he leans in until his lips are touching yours.

his eyes flutter closed, yours follow. you kiss him back, he kisses harder. the language of love isn’t dead. all you had to do was say something.

802 notes · View notes

deanstead · 6 months ago

Text

Welcome Home

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Requested: Yes, by anon

Summary: Sam gets an unexpected call from Y/N, which brings another surprise for Dean

Word Count: 2.7K

Tags/Warnings: Dad!Dean, canon-typical mentions of blood/violence

A/N: In my "everything i write sucks" era but thanks to @seatsbythepit for her consistent beta services! I think this was in my inbox for a (long) while so I finally got this out!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST

Sam frowned, glancing at his phone where it was lighting up with an incoming call from a number he didn’t know.

Not many people had this number, so he picked up warily, as Dean looked up.

“Hello?”

There was a short silence on the other end of the line before a familiar voice reached his ears.

“Sam?”

Sam froze.

“Y/N?”

Dean sat up straighter, his eyes flicking toward his brother but Sam wasn’t paying attention.

It had been more than 2 years since you’d left and not a day had gone by that Dean didn’t blame himself for it. Sometimes, when he lay in bed at night, the last fight still haunted him - the look in your eyes when those hurtful words had cut across the room, the defeated sound in your voice as you looked him in the eyes and told him that if that’s what he thought of you, there was no point to all this.

After you left, he’d spent too many days staring at your name in his lists of contacts, his thumb hovering over the call button. The days ticked by, and soon it was way too late for Dean to call or reach out so he was left with replaying the last conversation you’d ever had like he needed to torture himself to make up for the hurt.

“Where are you?” Sam’s voice pulled Dean out of his thoughts and he frowned. That was never a good sign.

Sam spoke in a low voice before he nodded and hung up.

Dean stared at his younger brother as Sam stood, pausing as his eyes flicked toward Dean who was watching intently.

“Dean, she…”

Dean nodded, his eyes flicking back downward. “Yeah, I don’t blame her.”

“Look, why don’t you help from here, alright? I’ll make sure she’s alright.” Sam said, although he knew it must be killing Dean.

“Yeah, just let me know what you need,” Dean responded, failing to hide the slight dejection in his voice as Sam left.

“Sammy.”

His name flowed off your lips the moment you opened the door, feeling familiar yet foreign at the same time. Yet, it was really good to see him.

Sam just smiled, enveloping you in a tight hug the way only an older brother would. “It’s good to see you.”

You nodded, smiling.

“You flying solo?” Sam asked, frowning.

You shook your head. “I’m not hunting. Not really. We were just passing through and I wanted to just run, but I… I couldn’t. Now, my friend’s sister is missing and I just…”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Wait. We?”

You gave him a guilty smile. “That’s why I called.” You paused before continuing. “And why I asked you to come alone. I didn’t think I should surprise Dean out here.”

Sam gave you a confused look and you exhaled slowly.

Without saying anything more, you led Sam into the room, as his eyes fell upon a two-year-old kid. A kid who was unmistakably Dean’s son as he gripped a miniature Impala car in his hand where he was sitting on the ground.

Sam looked at you in surprise.

You nodded. “This is Leo.”

It was probably a Winchester thing but Leo took to Sam almost immediately despite the fact he never let anyone else but you carry him for the past two years.

You remembered how he’d wail in the doctor's or nurse’s arms but he seemed perfectly content sitting in Uncle Sammy’s arms now, playing with Sam’s hair.

“I was gonna get a friend to watch him, but if he likes you so much…”

Sam looked at you like you were crazy. “You’re not going alone.”

You exhaled slowly and nodded, like you’d already expected this answer from him.

Instead, Sam asked to review the information you had. It felt almost like the good old days, as you watched Sam pore over the notes you had at the small desk at the motel, the only thing different being that Dean wasn’t here and you had a two-year-old who’d fallen asleep in your arms.

You knew Sam was planning to call Dean when he left to get dinner but you pretended like you didn’t, busying yourself with preparing Leo’s meal.

When Sam returned with food for the both of you, you glanced at him and he nodded. “Yeah, I called Dean. Look, you know the research there is helpful. It won’t hurt.”

You shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”

Sam glanced up at you. “What’s the plan, Y/N? Why didn’t you tell him? Or me?”

You glanced over your shoulder at where Leo was sleeping soundly and sighed softly. “I don’t know. I guess… I guess Dean and I never really had the talk. I didn’t know where he stood with regards to having kids, especially in this life.”

You paused, looking up at Sam momentarily before continuing. “Besides, we’d broken up. I thought he’d try to come and get me but… well, he didn’t. By the time I found out I was pregnant, too much time had passed and I didn’t know how to tell him.”

Sam nodded quietly, letting you continue.

“But I got out. I didn’t let Leo into this part of our life. Until today. And I hate it that he’s here when there’s a nest of fucking vamps right here. I didn’t…”

Sam reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “You were right to call. No matter what, it never hurts to have someone looking out for you.”

You smiled. “Well, I’m glad it’s you…”

“And Dean. Sorta.” You added after a small silence.

The conversation was cut short by Sam’s phone and he quickly answered it. “Anything good?”

You could hear the crackle of Dean’s voice and you felt your heart give a jolt. A jolt that didn’t exactly surprise you. Of course, how could you ever get over Dean Winchester?

You could vaguely hear Dean giving Sam some additional information before Sam hung up, glancing at you.

“You sure about this, Y/N?”

You glanced at Leo before nodding. You planted a firm kiss on Leo’s head, nodding to your friend, Samantha.

“Don’t worry. Sam’s great at what he does. We’ll figure this out.”

She nodded back at you, assuring you that Leo was in safe hands.

It was your first hunt in a long while, but being a hunter seemed to already be a part of your DNA.

Armed with the information that Dean had dug up, you and Sam managed to infiltrate the nest, easily lopping heads of vampires off as they were caught off-guard. You were glad Sam was there to have your back, especially when you both made your way to the dead center of the nest.

“Sharon?” You kept your voice low.

You headed to where she was huddled in the corner. You didn’t know Sharon well but you’d met once or twice when you’d come up here to meet Samantha.

“Y/N?”

Her voice shook slightly.

You nodded. “Yeah. I promised Samantha I’d bring you home.”

Sharon looked around, her eyes flicking to a dead body lying to the side. “They’re…”

You shook your head at Sharon. “Sharon, look at me. We’re going to get you home alright? Trust me.”

“Come on, Y/N.” Sam urged gently.

Of course, you knew hunts never went that smoothly.

A growl alerted you that a vamp had joined you and your body stiffened, the grip on the machete in your hand tightening.

“Sam, get her out of here.”

“Y/N.” Sam’s voice was stressed and you recognized it, the struggle between leaving you here and taking Sharon to safety.

“I’ll be fine.” You assured him, glancing back at the new arrival.

Sam didn’t answer but you knew the exact moment when he took Sharon and left, their footsteps seeming to echo as they got further away.

“You hunters are the real monsters.” The vampire droned, staring at you. “Here we are, just trying to survive and you break into our home and kill my entire family.”

You tried to stifle the sarcastic laughter that was at the tip of your tongue.

“That’s rich coming from you.”

You knew it was coming before the vampire twitched, and you swung your machete upward as he rushed toward you.

The vampire sidestepped, missing the machete by inches as it growled, even more determined to get you.

You stepped back again as it lunged at you, your heart sinking as you felt yourself lose your footing.

Fuck.

You rolled out of the way but the vampire was too quick, pouncing upon you.

You raised your machete but it was too close, the machete inching closer toward you as the vampire bared its fangs at you.

You held onto a single thought. You had to get home to Leo.

Then, as if by sheer willpower, the unmistakable sound of a blade swishing through the air before the vampire’s head rolled off its shoulders.

“Dean?”

Dean had lasted all of five minutes after the last call with Sam before he’d muttered a “screw this” to himself and torn his way out of the bunker and down to where Sam and you were.

You were still stunned as Dean rolled what was left of the vampire off you and helped you up.

“You alright? Are you hurt?” Dean’s eyes studied you, unable to differentiate if the blood on you was the result of any injuries you might have sustained before he’d arrived.

You shook your head. “I’m fine.”

The atmosphere sank into awkwardness as the both of you stood there now in silence.

“Sorry, Y/N. I know you wanted me to sit this one out, but I…”

You shook your head and interrupted him. “No, I… Thanks, Dean.”

You fell back into silence, both of you walking out toward the exit to Sam.

“God, Y/N!” Sharon’s stressed voice made her way to you first but you didn’t miss the surprised look Sam gave his brother even as you were assuring Sharon you weren’t hurt.

You looked up to see Dean quietly heading to the Impala, and before you could think through your next move, you were running toward him.

“Dean.”

Dean paused and turned to look at you.

You took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”

There was a look in Dean’s eyes that sat somewhere between confusion and intrigue.

You looked down at your blood-stained clothes and smiled. “Give me a few hours and I’ll come meet you at the bunker?”

The words rolled off your tongue feeling foreign yet welcoming at the same time.

“The bunker?” Dean asked.

You shrugged. “Or wherever you guys want. If you don’t want me there.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s not what I…” He paused before continuing. “See you there.”

You watched the Impala drive off before you turned back to look at Sam, who had a small smile on his face, and you knew he’d heard everything.

You’d delivered Sharon safely back to Samantha, who hadn’t asked any questions, just glad to see her sister again. and you even managed to shower and change before Leo even noticed you and Sam were gone.

Now, Sam pulled up outside the bunker and you took a deep breath.

“Ready?” Sam asked softly.

You gave a short laugh. “Never.”

You felt everything at the same time as you took Leo in your arms and walked into the bunker, the memories seeming to hit you all at once - the way this place made you feel, the laughter in your head that belonged to a memory of the three of you as you sat in Dean's embrace.

Even if this was the same place where things had ended, it was the happy memories that followed you as you walked down the stairs now.

Dean stepped out of the kitchen, freezing in his footsteps.

His eyes took in the sight before him, a kid that looked like a carbon copy of himself except for the eyes that were undoubtedly yours.

“Y/N…”

You cleared your throat and exhaled.

“Hey Leo, let’s go find you some snacks,” Sam said, reaching his hands out for Leo.

Leo cracked a smile and allowed Sam to pick him out of your arms. “Pie!”

Sam glanced over at Dean, unable to hide a chuckle. “I’m sure we have that.”

The silence that followed was almost loud as Dean looked at you in disbelief and you cleared your throat. “Let’s talk.”

Dean led the way into the library, unsure if he should be pissed or happy to see you.

You leaned against one of the tables, as Dean looked back at you.

“Sorry.” You said quietly, looking down. You knew Dean had every right to be angry and you braced yourself for the rise in his voice but nothing came.

You glanced up at him again, meeting the green eyes you’d sorely missed.

Met with Dean’s silence you spoke again. “I didn’t know how to tell you. By the time I found out about it, too much time had passed since the last time we spoke. I stared at your number but I was afraid. I…” You took another breath. “We never talked about this. I didn’t know if you’d be happy or not and I chickened out.”

“So were you never going to tell me?” Dean finally asked.

You couldn’t really determine the tone of his voice but you shook your head.

“I… I kinda was on the way here.” You said quietly.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up.

“I didn’t really have a plan.” You said. “Part of me thought if I just drove here, I wouldn’t be able to back out anymore. Then, that nest of vamps kidnapped my friend’s sister so I…”

“So you called Sam.” It was a statement.

You gave him a tentative smile. “Didn’t think you’d appreciate seeing Leo without an explanation in the middle of a hunt.”

Dean exhaled slowly.

“So what now?” Dean asked.

You didn’t dare look up at him, afraid your eyes would give you away. The eyes that screamed how you were still in love with him and that you’d missed him every single day that you’d been apart. The way your heart crumbled every time Leo smiled because it reminded you of Dean, and how all you wanted was to be enveloped in those arms again.

Even as those thoughts ran through your mind, you felt the prick of tears because this was exactly why you’d put off telling Dean about Leo.

“I don’t know, D.” You answered quietly.

Your voice cracked slightly and you hoped Dean hadn’t picked up on it.

“Y/N.” He called, forcing you to look up at him, even though the tears blurred your vision.

Dean closed the gap between the both of you, one hand cupping your face as he pressed his lips against yours, his other arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

“God, I missed you,” Dean whispered, as he pulled away just a little, your faces still pressed together.

You buried your face into his shoulder without saying anything, feeling your tears get absorbed into the shirt he had on.

You needn’t have worried about Leo. You looked at you son clutching the tiny toy Impala while he sat in his father's arms almost triumphantly as they came back in. Dean had brought Leo to see the real thing, and Leo had a ball of a time just sitting in the Impala.

“Mama, can we stay?” Leo asked with anticipation in his voice.

You froze. Dean and you hadn’t talked about anything. He’d kissed you, you’d hugged and then you’d gotten him out of that library to meet his son.

Dean closed the gap between the two of you, putting Leo into a giant hug between the both of you before he reached out for your hand.

“Stay,” Dean said quietly.

You glanced up at him.

“I’m not going to lose you again.” Dean added, squeezing your hand gently. “Not for anything in the world.”

The words felt stuck in your throat, but you glanced at Leo and smiled. “Yeah, we’re staying with Daddy and Uncle Sammy.”

Dean leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips amidst Leo's triumphant yells.

Sam moved forward to press you into a hug. “Welcome home, Y/N.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

Character taglists are open, hit me up if you would like to be added!

#dean winchester x reader #resa.fics #dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester oneshot #resa's requests #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #spn oneshot #dad!dean #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n

691 notes · View notes

mxltifxnd0m · 15 days ago

Text

drunken words ↼ d. winchester

summary: drunk you isn't the best at keeping their mouth shut

pairings: dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader, platonic sam winchester x reader

requested: yes/no: by @traiitorjoe; thank you for sending your request!

word count: 3.0K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', none really, some cursing, a little bit of fluff, sam being a meddling little shit, some angst, kinda edited

a/n: i got this request in july and i felt so bad for having put it off for so long but here we have it! there is a potential for a pt.2 so if anyone wants that lmk lol

but enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me!

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Dealing with the Winchesters always felt like a Herculean task when you would run into them while you were on a hunt. The first time you ran into them was when they barged into the farmhouse that you were staking out for a nest of vampires. They went in, guns blazing, and you cursed them out under your breath as you hurriedly left the hiding spot you were in and rushed into the nest to help them clean out.

It was safe to say that they were surprised and confused by your anger when you guys had killed all of the vamps. You didn’t recognize them at first when they first ran into the farmhouse, but now that you were standing there and really looking at them, you instantly knew that these were the infamous Winchester brothers you’d heard from Bobby and other hunters.

Regardless of who they were, you were furious that they had messed up the hunt that you were on, and they were on the receiving end of your fury while they looked at you dumbfounded. After you were done yelling at them, you left the farmhouse fuming and decided to leave them with the cleanup job.

The brothers were so confused by you that they didn’t even think to ask for your name. They also were slightly scared by your fury, and they failed to realize that you clearly knew who they were, but they had no idea who you were, only that they had taken over your hunt and were really mad about it. Dean only hoped that he wouldn’t run into you ever again.

But as fate was a fickle thing, you would run into the brothers on your next hunt in a small town in Oregon, where a witch was terrorizing the men of the town, and it just so happened that you had arrived at the station the same time they did. You had to play along with them until you got the information you needed, and then when you tried to leave the station before them, a hand slammed your door before you could get into your car.

You turned around to be met with emerald green eyes filled with irritation and thinly veiled curiosity.

“Did you need something Winchester?” You said with a scowl etched into your face.

Dean scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, answers. Who the hell are you?”

“What’s it matter to you?”

“Because you’re a hunter and we could use some help on this case.” Sam interjected, and your eyes were ripped away from the man in front of you. You almost forgot about the taller Winchester that was lingering behind Dean.

You raised an eyebrow at Sam while Dean’s head jerked over his shoulder and glared at his brother. Sam stared back at his brother with raised brows, sending him a look that said, ‘What? It doesn’t hurt to ask.’

“I don’t think your brother here is keen on working with me.”

“You’re damn right I’m not. You went off on us for no reason and left us to clean up.”

You couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of them cleaning up the plethora of severed heads and bodies from that farmhouse. But you ignored Dean's words as you contemplated the offer Sam was proposing.

“Fine I’ll help, but you’ll have to follow my lead on this one.”

Sam nodded, agreeing with you, and sent you a dimpled smile.

Dean opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by you slicing the air with your hand in front of his face.

“Zip it Winchester, either you listen to me or I leave you high and dry on this hunt.” You waved around the copy of the case file that you convinced the Sheriff to give you before leaving the station.

Dean all but glared at you and stomped towards the black Chevy Impala that was parked down the street. You couldn’t help but smirk at Dean’s grumpy attitude, and Sam told you which motel they were staying in and followed them to it.

With three heads instead of one (more like two since Dean barely did any research and stuck you and Sam with it), you guys found the witch in no time and disposed of her swiftly. You had to admit that working with the brothers was more manageable than working on your own. But you knew that this had to be a one-off occurrence because you had heard about all of the craziness that surrounded the Winchesters. You were not keen on being pulled into any of it.

Once the hunt was over, Sam gave you his number and told you to call if you needed help or vice versa. You took it to be polite, but you knew that you weren’t going to call them unless your life depended on it. The three of you went your separate ways before Destiny decided to play her games, and somehow, you ended up working on most of the hunts the brothers were working on.

It’s like some higher power wanted you to work the Winchesters against your better wishes. Alas, you ended up working with them every time because you couldn’t resist Sam Winchester’s pleading puppy dog eyes. But you got on quite well with Sam, and he slowly became a good friend of yours.

But your relationship with Dean, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say you had a mutual hatred for each other. You guys practically fought like cats and dogs anytime you interacted, and the two of you couldn’t help but let snide comments leave your lips each time the other was wrong or messed up. Both of you bickered like an old married couple that should have divorced a long time ago, so much so that Sam had to be the mediator constantly if you were to work with the brothers. If he hadn’t, he wasn’t sure if you were either going to throw a punch or fuck each other.

Dean Winchester is an incredibly infuriating man, and you hated that you found him attractive. It wasn’t lost on you that both of the brothers were hot, like they should be on the cover of a magazine hot, but there was something about Dean that drew you to him more. You didn’t want him to know that, so you hid your attraction for him through your sarcastic demeanor. Eventually, Sam had enough of your bickering that held so much sexual tension that he locked the two of you in the motel room he and Dean were sharing until the two of you could have a civil conversation.

Sam had left the two of you for a couple of hours. He was half expecting to find the two of you naked in Dean’s bed, but when he unlocked the door, he saw the two of you on separate beds and watching a random movie that was playing on the TV in the room.

In the time that Sam was gone, you guys had bickered and gotten in each other’s faces, but you eventually admitted that it was tiring to keep up the fact that you didn’t exactly hate Dean since the moment you met him and to your surprise, he admitted the same thing. After that, you guys sat on separate beds, finding some common ground between the two of you, and watched whatever was on the TV.

After that incident, the two of you still argued like a married couple, but there wasn’t any heat behind your words, and it turned into friendly banter between you and the older Winchester. Months went by, and you found yourself as the unofficial third partner to the brothers, accompanying them on the majority of the hunts that they picked up.

You didn’t know how it happened, but to your utter shock and horror, along the way of becoming friends with Dean Winchester, you developed feelings for him. Of course, you had no idea when you started to feel like this around Dean. Sam was perceptive, caught onto your change in behavior, and had basically interrogated you when he saw you glare at the woman Dean decided to take home that night, trying to ignore the stinging sensation in your chest as he left the bar the three of you were at.

You had vehemently denied that you felt anything for Dean, but all Sam said in response was a shit-eating grin and gave you a look that said, ‘Yeah, you’re lying, and I know it.’

Once Sam had figured out that you liked his brother, he stopped at nothing to leave the two of you alone in hopes that you’d put on your big kid pants and admit your feelings towards him (spoiler alert, you never did). As much as you loved Sam, you honestly wanted to punch him in the face every time he urged you to tell Dean about your feelings.

You knew that Dean wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, and you definitely knew that he wasn’t one for love or relationships, as evident with the women he picked up at bars after successful hunts. Did your heart clench any time you saw the satisfied smirk on his face the morning after the night out at the bar? You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but yourself, but yeah, it did.

Now, after a successful hunt, you and the Winchesters found yourselves at the bar across the street from the motel you were staying in. The three of you were at a booth at the corner of the bar, and you had gotten the first round of drinks for each of you. But when Dean volunteered to grab the third round (Sam had gotten the second one), Sam said he was turning in for the night and shot you a sly smile, and you knew exactly what he meant by it. You glared at him briefly before telling him goodnight through gritted teeth (Dean had seen this interaction between you and his brother and was confused by it but brushed it off).

Sam left, and Dean turned to you. “Still want a drink?” He asked.

You nodded in response, and Dean shot you a small smile before his knuckles knocked on the table, and he made his way toward the bar. A couple of minutes had passed, and Dean wasn’t back from the bar. You looked up from your empty glass to see him being chatted up by a woman dressed to the nines, and clearly, Dean was into her.

You let out a harsh breath before shaking your head, getting up from the booth, heading to the opposite side of the bar Dean was at, and ordering a vodka soda. You downed in quickly and told the bartender to keep the drinks coming. You didn’t know how many you had until you heard a gruff voice telling the bartender to give you water instead of another drink. You could vaguely recognize Dean’s voice through your drunken haze.

You turned around in your seat to see Dean right next to you with furrowed brows. “You alright there, kid?”

Dean hadn’t seen you this drunk before, so he was half concerned but also half amused by the cute pout you had on your face.

“M’not a kid.” You slurred out, irritated. You hated the nickname that Dean had given you; you weren’t much younger than Dean, you were the same age as Sam.

“Then why are you pouting like you didn’t get the candy you asked for?” Dean asked, his tone amused.

You couldn’t help but scowl at him and look around for the woman he was talking to earlier. “Where’s the girl-*hiccup* you were talking to?” You questioned, dazed.

Dean’s face had scrunched up. “Turns out she plays for the same team.” He muttered lowly, but you managed to hear it through the bar chatter.

You couldn’t help but burst out in drunken giggles at Dean’s failed attempt to take someone home. Dean looked at you, slightly embarrassed, but couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your laughter.

“Okay, we should probably get you back to your room.” Dean coaxed you off of the bar stool you were sitting on before paying for the tabs and leading you out of the bar. Dean had tucked you into his side as you walked on wobbly legs across the street to the motel.

Once you reached your room (which was coincidentally right next to the boys’ room). Dean asked where you had your key. You were leaning into Dean, so his question was spoken into your ear quietly, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“M’back pocket.” You mumbled out.

You didn’t see this as your eyes were closed as you rested your head against his shoulder, but his eyes widened at the realization that he’d have to grab it from your jeans pocket.

“If you remember this in the morning, please don’t punch me, I swear I wasn’t trying to cop a feel.” He had muttered something else under his breath, but you were too out of it to notice what he said.

Dean managed to get your room key out of your pocket and unlocked your door. He led the two of you inside, and when you saw your bed, you quickly ripped yourself from Dean’s embrace and fell face-first into bed, uncaring if you were still in jeans.

Dean chuckled at you, and you looked up at him with a pout. “Are you laughing at me?”

He shook his head, trying to stifle his amusement. “No, of course not.”

You squinted suspiciously at him before sitting up and pawing at your combat boots. You were fumbling with the laces until you felt a warm hand cover yours. You looked up and found Dean kneeling on the floor in front of you. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he untied your boots for you and pulled them off of your feet.

“You’re pretty.” You couldn’t help but blurt out drunkenly.

Dean laughed, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. “Maybe I should get you drunk often, maybe you’ll compliment me more.” He sent you one of his smug smirks before standing up and heading toward the small kitchenette in your room.

He filled a glass with water before heading to the bathroom. He grabbed some aspirin that was stored in the medicine cabinet (you had no idea that he knew where you stored your painkillers). He came over to the bed with the water and painkillers and set them on the nightstand.

As he was bustling around your room, you had managed to wiggle off your jeans and get underneath the covers of the bed. You looked at Dean underneath the warm lighting of the lamp that illuminated the room. His freckles were prominent in this lighting, and you couldn’t help but stare at his side profile.

Dean noticed your intense gaze on him and smirked down at you after setting the water and aspirin on your nightstand. “See something you like?” He gently teased. Dean felt his hand twitch, trying to resist the temptation to brush back the stray hairs on your forehead.

“Mhm, I like your face.” You smiled in a drunken bliss before your eyes fluttered. “I like you a lot actually.” You said before you felt the pull of sleep tug at your eyes.

Your eyes shut, and your breathing evened out as you succumbed to sleep, leaving Dean standing in shock next to you. He looked down at your sleeping form before shaking his head. He’d deny the fact he felt his heartbeat quicken at your drunken admission. Dean quickly left your room and entered his shared room with Sam.

Lucky for him, Sam was sound asleep in his bed, and Dean quickly got ready for bed, trying to ignore the fact you may or may not have shared the same feelings as he did.

You woke up with a groan. Your head was pounding. You saw through your bleary eyes that there were some painkillers left out with a glass of water right next to them on your nightstand. You sat up as quickly as you could and grabbed the things off the nightstand. You downed some of the water before taking the aspirin and then drinking the rest of the water.

You put the glass back on the nightstand before crawling back under the covers, wanting to let the ache in your head subside slightly before getting ready for the day. But fate was not on your side because pounding came from your door, making pain shoot through your head, and Dean waltzed into your room with a bag of food and a wide smirk on his face.

“Rise and shine, kid!” He said enthusiastically.

You shot up from your spot on the bed and glared at him. “I hate you. And stop calling me kid.”

“Well, that’s not what you said last night.” Dean smirked knowingly.

Your heart dropped to your stomach; what the hell did you say last night? “What do you mean?”

Dean placed the food on the table before leaning on its edge. “Do you not remember what you said last night?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Last thing I remember was you leading me out of the bar.”

Dean's smirk faltered. He wasn’t expecting that. “You don’t remember anything at all after that?”

“No. Why did I say anything important?”

Dean cleared his throat, trying to seem nonchalant and hide what he was actually feeling. He shook his head.

“Uh, no. But I got you some grub, we’re gonna head out in 30 so be ready then.” He said stiffly before leaving the room. Not looking at you once before the door closed with a click.

You stared at the door, confused. That was probably the most awkward Dean had ever been around you. But you shook it off and decided to pack up and eat the breakfast Dean got you.

You’d figure out what you said to Dean later.

381 notes · View notes

willowsages-blog · 7 months ago

Text

the charming man: Dean Winchester x female reader

Warnings: demon Dean x innocent female reader

“It’s not going to fit.” You say warily.

“We both know that’s not true.”

Dean's sitting in front of you, hand lazily moving up and down. You raise an eyebrow.

“Are you forgetting you took my virginity like only a week ago?”

He smirks at that, hand movements speeding up slightly.

Dean has spent the past week fucking you, spending all his free time trying to get you in bed with him. He seemed to be insatiable, having had a taste of you and not wanting to let go.

You were brushing your teeth one evening when he comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist.

You smile around your toothbrush, always welcoming the presence of your boyfriend. You had just figured this was his typical clinginess, wanting to be beside you every minute he can until you fully take him in through the mirror, noticing his appearance was different.

His hair was tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it for the past couple of minutes, and he was already planting sloppy kisses along your neck, trailing from your collarbone upwards.

He’s suddenly murmuring into your ear, “Wanna see you on top of me, angel.”

Everything you two had done for the most part has been pretty standard, missionary every night and alternating sloppy head in the morning.

You hadn’t ventured too far into the sex world, and now that he was bringing new positions up, nerves were starting to ignite in your stomach.

“ I, I don’t know how.” You admit, knowing that that was already obvious to him. However, you were still caught up in wanting to impress him and make every new experience for you even better for his years of experience.

“Don’t care, I’ll show you.” He mumbles, still focused on marking up your neck, moving on to another side when he gets bored of the other.

Which is how you found yourself standing in front of him, you still in bra and underwear as he’s completely naked.

He’s stroking himself, watching you like you're his own personal playboy, and you can’t help but clench your thighs at the imagery.

“C’mere.” Dean grabs your waist, pulling you, so you’re directly on top of his upper thighs. You squirm slightly, and Dean can feel you dripping onto his leg.

“Why don’t you want to?” He’s not teasing you, just simply wanting to understand your boundaries and ease any nerves.

“Are you forgetting the part about you being too big?” You roll your eyes.

While he had been able to bottom out since the first time, it still was a stretch, and he had to prepare you every time, fingering and eating you out before he could finally chase his own relief.

You were unsure how you were going to be able to focus and be in control like how he clearly expected; you were so used to him guiding you through everything.

You trusted Dean, knowing that he would never settle for anything less than the best for you.

And you know this was all still part of a deep-rooted insecurity of him having more experience than you, but he leans up to kiss you deeply,

and you’re moving on his thighs again, dragging wetness across his tattoo. He groans lowly in his throat, looking down at the small wet spot on his leg before looking back up at you.

“Want you to fuck me. Please - angel.” There’s something so pretty about the way begging sounds coming from him that you nod, knowing that he could drag you to hell and back if he asked nicely enough.

You lean in to kiss Dean, feeling brave, and slowly slip your mouth open, tongue brushing against his. You position yourself, so you’re sitting on top of him as he trails his kisses down your neck and chest, leaving dark marks along the way.

“ I know you’re wet for me, want it just as much as I do.” He murmurs after a particularly harsh suck on your collarbone, dragging a finger under your clothed center to prove his point.

You buck your hips slightly, missing the way he drags his finger, so it just barely brushes your clit, and Dean gets the message, pushing one finger in between your slit.

You’re used to this, familiar with the way he fingers you and stretches you out so you can take all of him.

He adds another and then another, watching at the way your body takes three of his thick fingers.

In his defense, he is patient. He curls his fingers inside of you, repeatedly moving as you continue to leak more and more for him. You moan slightly, chest arching into him.

You keep moaning, louder and louder, until your cumming all over his hand, only the first orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty for me, angel.” Your face heats up slightly, hiding in his shoulder while he sucks your arousal off his fingers shamelessly.

You’re still not used to his excessive praising even if your body reacts differently. Still,

it does light a fire in you, wanting to keep hearing the sweet compliments come out of his mouth.

He's helping you get undressed, unclasping your bra and tearing your underwear off until you push him back,

making sure he’s flat against the bed and rising so your pussy is directly above him.

Dean watches intently, eyes never leaving the way you slowly sink down on him.

He lets you get adjusted, getting used to the fact you can feel every throbbing inch of him. You both let out a soft moan,

his head falling back when you slowly rise back up.

You get to the point where only his tip is still inside you before dropping back down again, slowly grinding up and down his dick.

It’s not breakneck, nothing too incredible, you still trying to get used to the pace and too wrapped up in your own head on what’ll make him feel good.

, Dean, however, is in his own world. On Cloud 9, as he watches you drag yourself up and down, up and down.

His eyes are glued to where the two of you are connected,

trying to commit every single moment to memory, so he never forgets this.

“Look so fucking good like this.” He growls, placing a hand on your ass, not doing anything but to ground himself in this euphoria he seems to have found himself in.

He leans up to suck on your nipple, harshly sucking on your tit while playing with the other.

You whine loudly, rhythm faltering as his tip grazes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, Dean. So big.” The only thing that comes to mind, is because he is. Even underneath you,

you feel overwhelmed by just him: by his body, by his dick, by the twisted look of pleasure on his face,

by the low grunts that keep spilling out whenever you twist your hips a certain way. It’s overwhelming, and his presence seems larger than life when he’s stretched out like this underneath you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, noticing how your pace is slowly starting to falter as you get tired, and starts thrusting up into you, planting his feet so he can reach even further and deeper than before.

Your moans pick back up, watching as his face is set in concentration.

It’s funny how you had set out on making this night about him, and yet he’s grinding his hips into yours, set on making you cum before him.

He smiles smugly up at you, watching as your eyes roll back when he thrusts deep inside.

“Shit, Dean. I thought I was supposed to be - fuck” You whine out the last part loudly, him moving his hand down to rub your clit. “ S'posed to be fucking you.”

He doesn’t say anything, choosing to watch your body tremble slightly above his. Between your tits in his mouth, him rubbing your clit, and the incessant rolling of his hips, your orgasm is fast approaching.

Your nipple pops from his mouth, nipples wet and shiny from his spit as he looks up at you with his pupils blown.

“Wanna see you cum all over my dick instead.” And if his actions before didn't do it, how fucking wrecked his voice sounds causes you to squirt harder than you ever have before,

your orgasm lighting every part of your body alive as your body trembles on top of him. You moan loudly, collapsing on top of him as ragged breaths come out of you, trying to catch your breath.

Dean keeps thrusting underneath you, too close to his own release to want to stop and feel the way you squeeze tightly around him, your own high forcing his body into overdrive. He’s snapping his hips relentlessly, and it’s almost too much for your body to handle, pubic bone brushing your clit into overstimulation.

You whine out, not knowing whether it’s for him to stop or keep going. But one look at the fucked out, determined look on his face gives you your answer for you.

“Baby,” you purr. “Cum.” It’s a simple demand, but it’s enough to get Dean to falter, Cumming deep inside you as he grinds through his orgasm. He lets out a deep, guttural moan, you are getting used to the familiar feeling of him pulsing inside you.

He leans back onto the pillow, you falling on top of him. Both your chests rising and falling in tandem, as you listen to his erratic heartbeat try to find a steady rhythm.

“Have I ever mentioned how fucking hot you are?”

“Once or twice, yeah.” You mumble, sleepiness falling over you.

“You’re fucking incredible. That- that - was fucking incredible.” You start to grow shy under his constant praise and are quick to point out his work as well.

“Even if you did half the work?”

“Next time, you can be in charge,” Dean promises.

You smile wickedly, not even trying to hide the mischief in your eyes.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

#dean winchester x reader #dean whinchester #dean winchester smut #dean x reader #character x reader #supernatural #supernatural drabble #oneshot #multi fandom blog #fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x yn #dean winchester fanfiction #Spotify

437 notes · View notes

angelicjackles · 2 months ago

Text

— reckless heroine.

cw: fem!reader, best friend!reader, hurt/comfort, angst with a smidge of fluff, injuries and blood descriptions — 2.2k a/n: this is the first time I've posted anything publicly in years so consider this a testing the waters fic, trying to find my groove and decide if i want to make this a regular thing.

summary: after a rough, but successful hunt, you and dean arrive back at the motel, only you were reckless and got injured, some duct tape patching up ensues from an angry dean.

The storm had arrived just as Dean and her pulled into the grimy parking lot of the Twin Pines Motel, how very Montana. The heavy raindrops pummeled against the windows like a stark warning. The sky rumbled with low growls, and flashes of jagged light illuminated the dim, rundown building. Inside their basic motel room, the air was thick with tension and the unmistakable smell of almost damp carpet—a cheerful welcome after a semi-successful hunt with a werewolf.

Dean slammed the creaky motel door shut behind them, the force alone almost enough to splinter the plaster around the hinges, his expression a maelstrom of anger and concern blended into one explosive temper as he flicked the lightswitch, the gross orange-ish glow of the overhead bulb highlighted the unsavoury nature of their accommodation. They’d come a long way from Kansas for this hunt.

Sam and Cas took off East together for a potential case, something something bizarre circumstances, frankly, there’d been little resistance offered when the duo took off to the east coast, leaving her and Dean to take Montana—although if they were real, they’d probably have taken anywhere over the east coast.

The door was barely closed for a moment before his gruff voice crackled through the air like a whip. “Did that brewing concussion knock all damn common sense out of your head?” Dean snapped angrily, his demandingly sharp voice rising above the impending storm. “You got a fucking death wish or something?”

She grimaced, carefully moving to sit on one of the twin beds, feeling the throbbing pain radiating from the gash on the back of her shoulder, the wound still steadily leaking blood, instinctively rubbing the spot on the back of your head that had collided with the concrete earlier in the night when he mentioned a concussion.

“Very funny,” she retorted in deadpan, infusing her tone with a touch of biting sarcasm that was quickly becoming a defence mechanism, and all but guaranteed to rile him up further. “The victim needed help, she was bleeding out and scared, and unlike you I actually gave a shit about more than ganking the mutt.” The implication that he didn’t care if the victim survived so long as they handled the werewolf wasn’t helping Dean’s mood, but the remorse she showed was negligible. “Besides, I handled it, didn’t I? And it worked—aren’t you always telling me ‘trust your instincts, your instincts are good’.” she added on before he had a chance to respond, putting an emphasis on the drawl of his voice. The mock only made that muscle in his jaw clench so hard it wouldn’t be a surprise if his teeth shattered. Heed the warning.

A growl bubbled in the back of his throat, but somehow he managed to keep it partially contained and tossed both his and her bags down onto the bed she hadn’t plopped down on. He may be pissed at her right now but that didn’t mean he was going to let his injured best friend carry her own bag. “Trust your instincts?” He gestured wildly with his hand, like that would somehow show just how worked up he was right now. She was getting to him, bad, and it was taking every ounce of willpower he was summoning from Chuck only knows where to stop from lashing out at her. “You were reckless and got yourself attacked in the process of playing heroine!” He rasped, his low voice reverberating off the thin motel walls with how loud his words escaped.

Just for good measure he had to force his eyes elsewhere, just so he’d stop being faced with those claw marks on your shoulder, every glance at them made something in him coil and burn. Stomping towards the foot of the unoccupied bed, he aggressively unzipped his duffle bag and rummaged through it. Meanwhile she was busy shedding herself of the unnecessary clothing and gear, kicking her shoes off and abandoning them on the mysteriously patchy carpet next to the bed, unbuckling her belt and unlatching the clasp on the blade sheath on her hip, tossing both onto the lone chair off to the side of the beds.

Finally after a few long moments his fingers found the squished edges of the first-aid kit he’d grown used to keeping in there—the first-aid kit that only remained stocked up because she meticulously replenished what she, him and Sam went through after every hunt—Snagging it up, deft fingers were quick to unzip and flick through it haphazardly, plucking out several different medical supplies.

When he realised she hadn’t responded to his last few retorts, which was uncharacteristic for her, his eyes flickered back towards her, forest green eyes darkening at the blood leaking against her pale skin. “You put yourself in danger, again, and walked away with a souvenir I’m not too keen on.” He continued despite his better judgement, gesturing angrily at the deep werewolf claw marks on the back of your shoulder blade, having torn through her flannel and undershirt, soaking both in bright crimson and leaving her down to a base layer tank top.

The retort had her glancing over her shoulder, but able to see little more than the dark streaks of blood sticking to wet skin. The amount of blood she’d lost so far wasn’t enough to be life-threatening, but it was definitely a worrying situation that needed attention. God forbid the pair didn’t do their back-and-forth arguing before that though, not like she was bleeding out over here or anything. “You’re lucky you didn’t get yourself killed.” He grumbled, not so hotly as before, the edges of concern leaking into his voice. “These are gonna scar ugly...” The last part was more of an afterthought.

“More to add to the collection,” she mused out far too casually for the situation. “What did you ju—” He interjected, a warning hiss in his voice, but she was quick to wave a dismissive hand over her shoulder at him. “Forget it.” She brushed off, cutting off his warning remark.

‘It’s like she’s trying to piss me off,’ Dean thought to himself, and hell maybe she was. “For once, couldn’t you have followed the game plan, sweetheart? Fuckin’ hell…” His tone was a mixture of worried fondness and scolding terseness. Either way, she was quick to turn her entire body around on the bed to glare at him, ignoring the searing pain from her wound with the quick movement.

“Oh? Am I supposed to bow down to Dean Winchester’s expert advice? Follow orders blindly?” She shot back at him, a chilling kind of coolness to her voice. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure that’s your speciality,” she added, venomously, the tension in her voice masking the discomfort that coiled within her body.

And she could have sworn she saw him flinch as soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth, making a low simmering pit of guilt fester inside her, knowing she was out of line. Low blow. His gaze pained for a fleeting moment, pretty green eyes widening and mouth falling open the smallest amount like those words had quite literally taken the breath from his lungs; but it quickly hardened again as he stewed on those words, cracking open a bottle of antiseptic with more force than necessary. “Just— shut up, for once.” It was almost a plea, more of a pained demand, but she knew she’d hit a nerve. “Sit still and let me patch you up, okay? I may not be a doctor, but I can keep your ass from bleeding out.”

She rolled your eyes, watching as he pulled out a smorgasbord of supplies from the first-aid kit. “I’m perfectly capable of handling my own medical emergencies. This isn’t my first skirmish with fangs and claws, Dean. I don’t need your help,” her voice came out more snapped than intended.

Despite the fact they both knew the precocious positioning of this wound left her unable to attend to it herself, she’d have to be a pretty fine contortionist to deal with it without help. Dean opened his mouth to inform his best friend of just that but thought better of it in the final second, slowly his mouth slipped closed.

A frustrated grunt slipped past his lips and one hand racked impatiently through his short, messy locks. “Well, congratulations on surviving past encounters, but this looks like a crime scene,” he replied tersely before sighing in frustration, the adrenaline of the situation beginning to die. “—plus, you’re bleeding on my marginally clean bed,” he added on, in an attempt to diffuse the situation, which pulled a scoffed laugh from her mouth before it could be helped.

His tense shoulders dropped slightly in relief when she responded by gingerly peeling the fabric of her black tank top away from the wound, letting it slip down off her slender shoulder so he’d have access.

The next fifteen minutes were deafeningly quiet, the only sounds were the soft pained noises that left her mouth, and the heavy breaths of concentration from Dean as he worked at disinfecting and patching up the wound on her shoulder as best as possible - Would this be easier to do in the bathroom instead of on the bed? Absolutely, but here they were.

Thankfully the wound didn’t need stitches, the claw marks the werewolf had left her with were nasty but not deep enough to be genuinely worrisome—not that it would stop Dean from worrying like a motherfucker. They’d leave some impressively disgusting scars, and hurt like a bitch for the next couple weeks as they healed, and as much as he was tempted to suggest going to the nearest a&e to get her properly seen to, just to be safe, he knew what her answer would be, so that wasn’t a battle he’d win. His basic hunter duct-taping would have to suffice.

The mood wasn’t great, both seething with worry and anger and pain that blended together into a chokingly intense thickness that lingered like smoke in the air, so it was in everyone’s best interests that they shut up.

“Done.”

Those words out of his mouth seemed to break the atmosphere and she slowly glanced back at him over her shoulder right in time for his thumbs to smooth out the medical tape that adhered the thick, white dressings to her pale skin, his touch extremely gentle despite everything, ensuring the tape wouldn’t come loose.

Turning on the bed so she was facing him as he remained stood up, her shoulders rolled back slowly, testing out the movement with the fresh patch up, it seemed to be healing. “How’s it looking, doc?” She quipped, her voice slightly lilted, making a weak attempt to lighten the mood up, too damn tired to argue further with him. His mouth quirked up in what could be described as a lazy grin. “Think you might just survive the night, thanks to the tireless effort of your handsome doctor.” He teased, only because he wanted to see her roll her eyes in that fondly affectionate way, and he got his wish.

The way she made a point to shake her head at him was all he needed to see to know that the sparky atmosphere had diminished; even though it was likely due to the adrenaline dying out and the pain kicking in.

His eyes followed her when she pushed herself to stand up, hands instinctively reaching out to steady her. “Mm, I don’t know, can’t say the bloody hands add to the sex appeal.” She hummed, eyes flicking down to his hands that were stained with her blood, hands that were now staining her arm in deep crimson too, her brows furrowing in distaste, but he didn’t seem in a rush to pull his hand back so she didn’t move to knock him off either. His gaze dropped to the offending hands in question, nose scrunching up at the sight of the blood as his thumb stroked against her elbow. “So… you’re saying I have sex appeal?”

The tone of his voice in that moment was the most playful thing she’d heard from him in a long time. She couldn’t help but laugh, a real hearty ‘you’re such an idiot’ kind of laugh, the kind that had him grinning crookedly at her in return.

“Your ego needs no further stroking, I’m gonna plead the fifth on that one.” She held her hands up in mock surrender, which only rumbled an amused laugh from deep in his chest.

“That’s my girl.” Dean beamed, running his tongue over his teeth with a soft sigh. The adrenaline had long since faded and now he was left with that anxious worry and tired stress lingering in his body. “Fuck… C’mere, you,” he beckoned suddenly, barely giving her time to register his words before he was pulling her in against his chest, strong arms wrapping around her in such a delicate way, careful of her injuries while somehow managing to squish her into him. The height difference leaving the top of her head tucked perfectly underneath his chin as his fingers carted through her messy hair.

“Look... Call a truce, sweetheart?” The gruff hunter muttered into her hair, his arms cradling her close to his larger body. “Truce.” She conceded, placing a complacent kiss against his clothed shoulder, which earned a soft little rumbly hum from him.

The storm raged outside, but within the cramped motel room, a warmth had blossomed between the pair of them—a reminder that despite all the chaos of the job, it was them against the world and in this tempest, as the thunder rolled across the darkening horizon and the lightning split the sky, they both knew they’d face them together, side by side.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester oneshot

247 notes · View notes

em-ontv · 1 month ago

Text

Eyes on you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: To get information for a case, you had to speak to a witness at a bar. However, the guy was way too interested in you for Dean's liking, and Dean could only watch.

Warnings: established relationship, bits of alcohol mentioned, the guy is sort of a creep, Dean getting jealous, neck kisses at the end. English isn't my first language, mistakes should be present, this was kind of rushed, sorry!

Word count: 974

It had been two hours. Two long, agonizing hours in this small town bar, and Dean was starting to believe that he was going to lose his mind.

It was just another case, but he wasn't sure if he was going to make it out alive. Not because of demons or ghouls—no, he was losing his sanity because he had to watch some cocky idiot openly flirt with you while you played your role.

You were leaning against a table, your fake smile wide and charming, while this guy—Rick or Ron, something with an 'R', some mechanic—was eyeing you up like he just hit the jackpot.

To be fair, you were stunning, and Dean knew that. Knew it too well, actually. But did this guy really have to act like that? Flirty smirk, voice dripping with innuendo, staring at you like you were the best thing to ever happen to his sorry existence. Practically undressing you with his eyes like he couldn't wait to get his grubby little hands on you.

And Dean, standing a few feet away, could only watch the whole thing unfold with an expression of absolute suffering.

He had to play it cool. Had to let you do your thing, ask the guy questions, get the information you both needed for the case.

But oh, the way Rick-whatever-his-name-was leaned in closer to you, that smirk on his face? Dean's hand twitched, his jaw clenched, and every fiber of his being was telling him to just walk over there, throw his arm around your waist, and glare the dude into oblivion if he was lucky. If he wasn't? Maybe he'll throw a left-hook... maybe two.

But no, he couldn't. Because professionalism.

His fingers drummed against the side of his glass, the cheap alcohol did nothing to cool him down. You were across the room, laughing at something Rick said—which was definitely not funny.

Dean took a deep breath, jaw tightening. His eyes narrowed as he watched 'Rick' give you a grin that was just a little too wide. His hand brushed against your arm. And Dean saw red. If he had to listen to one more word of this idiot’s weak attempts to flirt, he was going to lose it.

Because yeah, sure, you were undercover. Yeah, you had to pretend that you were nothing more than a waitress while Dean had to pretend like he was just some dude passing through. But come on. This guy? This guy with his greasy hair and his cheap cologne? The way he was looking at you like you were a steak fresh off the grill and he was starving?

Dean’s hands clenched around the glass, knuckles going white. He watched as Rick leaned in closer, his voice dropping into what was clearly his best attempt at a suave tone. Dean could almost hear it from where he was sitting.

"You know," Rick drawled. "You’re way too pretty to be just a bartender. Bet you’re not afraid to get your hands dirty, though." He winked. He winked.

Dean’s head dropped back, and he mentally started banging it against the nearest wall. He could feel the frustration bubbling up inside him, fighting to escape in a snarky comment underneath his breath…

He risked another glance at you. You caught his eyes from across the bar and gave him the tiniest smirk.

Oh, you were enjoying this.

His patience hung by a thread as Rick leaned even closer—his gaze drifting over you like you were his to admire.

To Dean, this was torture. Pure torture.

Finally—finally—you wrapped up the conversation, you leaned back, giving the guy a polite smile that didn’t reach your eyes. "Thanks for the info," you said smoothly. "But I think I've got everything I need."

You turned and walked off, leaving Rick blinking, still stuck in whatever daydream he was having about you and eventually losing sight of you in the crowds of people passing by.

Dean exhaled hard through his nose as you slid into the booth across from him. You didn’t say anything at first, just sipped your drink, clearly enjoying the way his eyes were practically burning holes in the wall.

"You okay there, sweetheart?" you asked, pretending to be oblivious.

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "Me? Oh yeah. I’m just peachy. That guy? Total professional. Definitely didn’t want to strangle him with his own shoelaces."

You raised an eyebrow, fighting back a grin. "Come on, you know we needed the information."

"Yeah, well, next time, maybe I’ll be the one doing the questioning," he grumbled, shooting another glare in the guy's direction. "So you can just stay put."

You just smirked, leaning across the table. "Dean Winchester, are you jealous?"

Dean’s eyes narrowed at you. "Jealous—? No. I just didn’t like the guy’s face. Or his voice. Or the way he was staring at you."

You leaned back, your smile turning softer. "Don’t worry," you said, your voice dropping just a little. "You’re the only one I’m thinking about."

Dean’s frustration melted away in an instant. His lips twitched up into a smile as he let out a breath, his body finally relaxing. "Damn right," he muttered, leaning back in the booth, his usual confidence sliding back into place. "Still, if he so much as look at you again—"

"I know," you rolled your eyes, smiling as you took another sip of your drink. "You’ll wrap yourself around me like a jealous octopus."

"You know me too well."

"Someone has to."

And when the two of you got back to the motel, Dean practically threw himself at you, arms around your waist as buried his face into your neck, kissing every inch of your skin like a starved man, smiling like a fool when you ran your fingers through his hair, earning a hum of content from him.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fic #dean winchester oneshot #spn #supernatural #dean winchester spn #supernatural fic #supernatural family #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #spnfandom

829 notes · View notes

jays-bonnie-on-the-side · 5 months ago

Text

HOMEWORK

PAIRING : teenage!dean winchester x teenage!fem!reader (au)

SUMMARY : reader goes over to dean's house to do homework but that's not all they do...

WARNINGS : young love. fluff. smut. sub-to-dom!dean. dom-to-sub!reader. horniness. under-aged sex. rough sex. unprotected p in v. creampie. getting caught kink. implied aftercare.

A/N : this oneshot was inspired by the gif above ^ (which is from jensen's movie devour [and if you think the gif is hot, you should hear the audio 😏🤤]) anyways—this is an au oneshot so don't trip that john and mary are alive & polite. also, please be patient with me, this is my first time writing in second person—and it being a smut, no less. hopefully over time i'll get better. hope you guys enjoy. lemme know what you think!

PREQUEL

You knock on the white door and patiently wait for someone to answer. John opens the door, greeting you with the famous Winchester smile.

"Hey, Y/N." He welcomes. "Dean told me you were coming over. Come on in."

"Thanks."

He steps back and opens the door wider, letting you into the two-story house. He closes the door before leading you further into the lovely home. Mary exits the kitchen, a bright smile lighting up her face once she sees you. She rushes over and wraps you in a warm hug. You happily melt into her motherly embrace. You loved Mary. She had always been kind to you.

"How are you?" She asks, her words muffled against your hair.

"I'm good. And you?"

John walks to the staircase and shouts, "Dean, Y/N's here!" before going to sit in his recliner.

"I'm great," Mary answers. "You kids have plans tonight?"

Nodding, you reply, "Yeah, we've got some homework to do."

Dean rushes down the stairs, catching the attention of you and his mother. You smile at your deliciously handsome boyfriend as he walks toward you. His eyes were fixed on yours as if you were the only one in the room. And it's been that way since the day he met you.

"Hey, beautiful," says Dean.

You giggle at the given pet name, a smile plastered on your blushed cheeks. His lips press against your forehead as his hand runs up your arm, creating goosebumps. Dean pulls away once his hand reaches for the strap on your bookbag. He takes it from your shoulder and throws it over his own. It was a gesture he frequently did, solely for you.

Before you started dating, Dean had his fair share of women. Whether he flirted with them or they threw themselves at him, he always had a girl on his shoulder. Everyone knew Dean Winchester's only rule: No Strings Attached. So, when his attention shifted toward you, you brushed him off. As much as you wanted to experience what the other girls bragged about, you refused to be like them. You had enough respect for yourself to say no despite every cell in your body begging for his. The last thing you expected from him was a chase.

You figured he only wanted sex, so 'No' was something he had to get used to. But he didn't stop, he didn't give up, and he certainly didn't chase anyone else. You couldn't understand his interest in you. You weren't popular or the prettiest girl in school, yet you were all he could think about. So, when you finally agreed to a date, you didn't imagine ending up on the hood of his '67 Chevy Impala, in the middle of a field, staring up at the stars as your head laid on his shoulder, talking the night away.

You feared that when he went to make a move, he would be upset or wouldn't understand. But when that moment came to admit that you were a virgin and weren't ready, he didn't once judge or try to rush you. Instead, he smiled and held you closer. And just like that, Dean had your heart.

Eight months after becoming official, which had been a first for Dean, you decide to take your relationship to the next level. He had become your best friend. You trusted him with your life. And you knew from previous conversations that he felt the same way. After your consummation, the bond between you both became stronger. Neither of you were the same people you were when you got together.

Dean grabs your hand and begins pulling you up the stairs. "We'll be in my room."

"Okay. Dinner will be ready in an hour!" Mary shouts after us.

Dean shuts the door as soon as you walk into his bedroom. Your backpack slumps off his shoulder before he attacks your lips. Happily accepting his eager kiss, you moan into his mouth. His swift hands pull off your sweater, letting it fall to the floor. He pushes you onto the bed, causing it to squeak loudly before climbing over your body.

"Not on the bed while your parents are home, remember?" You breathlessly murmur as his lips travel to your neck, licking and sucking on your sensitive skin. "And we really do have homework."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I can't help that your beauty distracts me." He purrs into your ear, sending goosebumps along your skin.

"Stop trying to butter me up, Winchester." You push his chest away, urging him to get off of you. With a chuckle, he rises, grabbing your hands to help you off the mattress. "We have work to do."

Letting go of your hands, Dean walks over to the desk across from his bed and plops himself in his swivel chair. You walk over to your backpack and fetch your supplies before sitting in the chair beside him. You place the textbook between the two of you, flipping to page 124. Opening a fresh page in your notebook, you both began to work in silence.

Half an hour had gone by, and your page showed minimal progress. Sure, you solved a few problems, but your mind wandered elsewhere. The only chemistry you were thinking of was that of your boyfriend. Your paper blurs as you imagine his lips back on yours. You shut your eyes as you focus on the vivid feeling of his cock pounding in and out of you like all the times he had before. Your breath became shallow as your walls clenched around nothing. Although you gave him crap about it earlier, you found yourself unable to resist the temptation.

You open your eyes and glance toward Dean. His brows pinched together, gaze fixed on the problem before him. His face contorted with concentration, absorbed by the equation. The steely determination set in his jaw matched the resolute expression in his eyes. You bit your bottom lip, finding him even hotter. After setting your pencil down, you rise from the chair and turn towards your partner.

Dean looked up from his homework, giving you his attention. Without a word, you leaned down and began to unbutton his jeans. He watched as you slowly unzipped his pants, not bothering to stop or ask what you were up to. He knew exactly what you were doing. You reach into his boxers and pull out his hardening member, mouth watering at the sight of it.

His hand replaces yours, pumping his growing length as he watches you reach underneath your skirt to peel off your soaked panties. Once they fall to the wood floor, you move to straddle his hips. With your hands on his shoulders to steady your balance, you hover over his fully erect cock. Your dominant hand runs down his clothed chest before grabbing hold of his thick member and aligning it with your awaiting entrance. Dean's hands push your skirt higher and rest them against your bare hips. With his help, you ease onto his throbbing cock, moans escaping both of your mouths at the sheer contact.

He stretches your insides, forcing you to feel every inch he was blessed with. Your walls were so tight; He had to concentrate to avoid finishing too early. Your breath mingled with his, trying to find the strength to remain quiet. Once you adjusted around him, you slowly slide off, stopping when the tip dares to slip out. You and Dean make eye contact, staring into each other's souls as you lower again. Your wetness coats his length, making it easier to glide up and down. In no time, you were feverishly bouncing on his rock-hard shaft.

Quiet moans spill from your lips as he brushes your G-spot. Dean wraps his arms around your torso, helping keep your rhythm. Your hands gently pull his neck forward, connecting your lips. The bouncing made it difficult but not impossible as his tongue danced with yours. The overwhelming passion engulfed you, causing a delightful feeling of dizziness. After breaking for air, you rested your foreheads together.

You pick up the pace, and as a reward, Dean thrusts upward. Your hips crash together, slamming his dick against your G-spot even harder. A loud moan slips from your lips, unable to keep quiet from that mesmerizing thrust. He hushes you, and you nod quickly, not wanting to draw his family's attention. The added suspense of getting caught and his fingers rubbing harshly against your clit drove you to your first orgasm. You ride faster as he thrusts harder, working you through your climax. It was nearly impossible to hide your screams of ecstasy, but his shirt did a good enough job softening them.

Heavy pants fall from your lips once your orgasm passes. You lift your head from his shoulder and watch his countenance contour with pleasure. Dean buries his face in your chest, muffling his moans as his arms hug you tighter. Your thighs ache with soreness, hindering your endurance. His hand moves up your back, holding you closer as you feel his thrusts begin to falter. Knowing your boyfriend was close, you pushed through the pain and ran your fingers through his hair before gripping it tightly, just how he liked. You clench around his cock, knowing all the ways to make him spill his load. His hands quickly gripped your hips, locking yours with his before spewing hot ropes of cum deep inside you.

You both moan as his seed coats your soft walls. In times like these, you're thankful for the shot. Although—despite your age—you wouldn't mind having Dean's baby. Hell, you imagined your future with him since the first time you made love. A few kids running around the yard as your high school sweetheart chased after them was one that often came to mind. One you knew he shared with you.

Dean suddenly gripped your thighs and stood up from his chair, interrupting your thoughts. Your eyes looked into his fairytale green irises, searching for his next move. With one hand, he pushes your schoolwork aside before setting you on the desk. A devilish smirk plays on his lips as he pulls his jeans further down, getting ready to have his turn with you. The beating of your heart begins to quicken once again, bracing yourself for what's to come.

He begins to pull out slowly, both of your cums escaping your entrance. Before too much could leak out, Dean rams into your cunt, trapping the fluid inside again. Your hands traveled to his forearms, digging your nails into his skin. With another powerful thrust, your eyes shut tightly, trying desperately not to scream. After taking a few deep breaths, you mustered the courage to open your eyes and peek at the work he was putting in. With your knees wide apart and your feet above his ass, you had the perfect angle to see his shaft drive in and out of you at a fast pace.

The only sounds in the room were heavy panting, skin slapping, quiet moans, and the thud of each thrust against the desk as the items on it moved to the steady rhythm of Dean's hips. His hands trail down your thighs and to your hips, fingertips squeezing hard enough to leave bruises, just how you liked. He angles himself so he's no longer thrusting horizontally but vertically. Your body jolts to the new sensation, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

This man was trying to kill you. You had no doubt left crescent marks upon his skin before you gripped the wooden desk with all your might. The pressure in the pit of your stomach threatened to explode any second. Short and hushed screams escaped your lips as he only went faster, harder, and even deeper than before. He knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted you to scream at the top of your lungs. He strived to get you close enough to shout your pleasure.

He accomplished that once his right hand slipped between your legs and applied heavy pressure to your already sensitive clit. You gasped, but before you cried with ecstasy, he leaned down and covered your mouth with his. After a few more thrusts and rubs to your bundle of nerves, you came undone. Your hands quickly make their way to his back, legs tightening around his hips, holding on for dear life as he fucked your pussy like it was the last time. Tears stream down your temples, overcome by your third orgasm seconds after your last.

Your limbs go limp, the arch in your spine straightening as your body comes down from its sex-induced high. With lips now detached, exhaustion sets in as both of you catch your breath. Dean's body presses against yours, hearts beating as one. You open your eyes to find him staring back, a lazy smile gracing his handsome face. He didn't make a move to part from your body, and you didn't intend to make him. His hand brushed your sweat-clung hair away from your face, taking in your beautiful post-sex glow.

"So much for homework."

Knowing he would say that, you teased with, "I can't help that your beauty distracts me."

Your laughters fills the room before it's interrupted by a knock on the door. Each of your eyes widened, having been—almost—caught in the act. Both of your bodies had stiffened with fear.

"Yeah?" Dean called, attempting to be calm.

"Dinner's ready," Sam replies from the opposite side of the door.

You and Dean sigh in relief; it was only Sammy. He knew better than to go into Dean's room, especially when you were over.

"We'll be right down!"

The sound of Sam's footsteps fades as he walks away from your boyfriend's door. He begins to laugh again, encouraging you to participate. There never seemed to be a dull moment with Dean Winchester. He sits up, pulling you with him before sliding his semi-hardened member out of your soaked vagina. He helps you off the desk and catches you when your legs wobble. Once you regain your balance, you pull your skirt down and search for your underwear. You could feel both of your liquids leak from your entrance, beginning to drip down your legs. Dean fetches the pair and stuffs them in his pocket.

He tucks his cock back into his jeans before zipping up. He grabs your hand and gently kisses your cheek. You close your eyes as his lips linger. The warmth of his skin radiates onto yours, something you have always found comforting. He pulls away and tugs you with him.

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's go clean up."

You nod as a small smile appears on your face, knowing he'll take care of you like he always did after sex. You couldn't have asked for or found a better partner, especially so early in life. How did you get so damn lucky?

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST

JENSEN TAGS : @ladysparkles78

SUPERNATURAL TAGS : @nancymcl

: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform

*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, headers, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.

2K notes · View notes

lanadelnegan · 1 year ago

Text

My Girl

S7!Negan x Reader

Requested from anon: hey! loving the blog and every story you post! i was wondering if you’d do a story of a reader’s first time being with S7 Negan who is an asshole at first but then goes soft because he accidentally made her cry??

OOOH I'm gonna have some FUN with this one. And thank you so much <3.

Summary: Rick's oldest daughter, y/n, loses her virginity to Negan.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, virgin first time, vaginal sex, daddy-kink, age-gap (reader is 18, negan is 40), Rick walks in on Negan eating you out.. (twice), degrading language, mushy romantic Negan, Negan fucks you in nothing but his leather jacket

A/N: This is my favorite fic I have written by far and I hope you love it as much as I do cuz I am obsessed.

"Carl, take your sisters upstairs and don't come down until I say it's safe." I lift Judith out of her high chair and follow Carl up the stairs.

Our dad has always treated us like Carl's the older one, even though he's two years younger than me, but I don't mind. If anything, it takes some of the pressure off of being big sis all the time.

I hear Negan's voice booming in the distance as my dad opens the door to head back outside. This has become part of our weekly routine at this point. Negan and his men went from monthly visits to weekly visits over the past couple months, but I don't mind that either.

The more I get to see him, the merrier.

I move the bedroom curtains slightly, peeking through my window until my eyes find Negan standing in the street in front of our house. I'm able to make out what they're saying if I listen closely enough.

"Rickyyy, I missed ya. Where's that sweet daughter of yours hiding? .....The older one of course." I can't stop the grin that appears on my face when he asks about me.

"This isn't about her. Get what you need, and leave." My dad stands firmly planted with his hands on his hips and my eyes roll at his attitude. Maybe if my dad would just be civil with Negan all of this could stop. I revert my gaze back to Negan.

"Now, Prick, you know I can't leave without seeing my girl."

His girl... The butterflies in my stomach flutter at the sound of that.

"Why are you so obsessed with him?" Carl asks rudely from across the room while holding Judith and bouncing her so she doesn't cry.

I quickly glare at Carl before turning my gaze back towards the window. When I look back down, Negan is looking up at me, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. I can't look away, and he lets his gaze linger a little too long as well, prompting my dad to look at my window. I quickly drop the curtain and back away.

"Take Judith to her room and put her down for her nap." I instruct Carl. He stares at me suspiciously. "Go! What did I just say?" I snap impatiently. He shakes his head but ultimately leaves.

"You're always so weird when he comes around." He says under his breath. I close my door behind them and go back to the window, peeking again, but this time everyone's gone. I rush to go see what's going on, but as soon as I swing my door open and run out, I crash into a tall, solid figure. My eyes widen as I look up at the man in the leather jacket.

"Hey, doll. Miss me?"

"Uh - I - where's my dad?" I stutter nervously, peaking around him.

"Busy getting supplies for me. He'll be busy for the next hour, so I thought I'd come keep you company."

Negan's been visiting Alexandria for months now, and each time he comes, our talks get longer and flirtier. Well, he flirts with me and I pretend to be annoyed, mostly so others don't think I like him. If they only knew how much I think about his beard between my legs.

There's something about him that intrigues me.. fascinates me even. I'm ashamed to admit I've even touched myself a couple times - okay, a lot of times - to the thought of him.

When I don't respond, he backs us into my bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

He slides his shoes and jacket off, sitting on my bed and leaning back with his feet propped up. I blush at the sight of him in my bed and restrain myself from ripping my clothes off here and now. A chill runs through my body, making me noticeably shake but I try to play it off. He probably things I'm scared, when in reality I just want him.

"Relax, I'd never hurt you darlin'. Unless you want me to." He winks as he leans back against the headboard getting more comfortable.

"I know." And I do... for some reason, I know he wouldn't hurt me.

He bites his bottom lip playfully and raises his eyebrows while patting the bed next to him.

I nervously walk over and sit down before leaning back, mimicking his position. My bed is a twin, so it doesn't allow much room to ourselves. My shoulder is pressed against his and the simple act has my body on fire already. I glance over and let my eyes roam up his white t-shirt to his handsome face. He watches me with amusement while his leg presses against mine teasingly.

"Sweetheart, I've been around the block long enough to know when a girl wants my dick. And I can practically hear that pussy fucking purring every time I come near you." He grins at me like he knows all my secrets.

My face burns with embarrassment at his words.

"I bet I could make you blush even harder than that, doll." His grin stretches wider but I stay silent, letting him do the talking.

"Of course.. I wouldn't do anything you're not comfortable wi-"

Before he can finish, I press my lips to his hard and climb on top of him. His mouth parts, letting my tongue in and his subtle moan makes my pussy flutter. He tastes like whiskey and smells like leather and I feel high off the taste of him as we kiss passionately. I grind my hips desperately into him and feel his bulge grow underneath me.

"Negan... I need you."

"I know baby." He breathes out.

My hands fumble with his belt and pants until I get them undone. He watches me as I pull out his cock and my pussy is already sore from just looking at it. No way it's gonna fit.

"How do you want it, baby? You gonna be a big girl and ride daddy?" His hands squeeze my ass underneath my dress and he practically growls when he realizes I'm not wearing panties.

"It's like you knew I was coming. Such a bad little girl." His fingers tease my opening and I'm embarrassed that I'm already pathetically soaked for him.

"All for me?" He slides a finger through my slit and brings it up to his mouth for a taste. "So fucking sweet."

I slide myself against his cock that's now slippery with my wetness and wonder how I'm gonna fit that thing inside me.

The big dick energy definitely checks out.

I hover above him naively, thinking I can actually take him. The tip just barely pushes through my opening and I moan at the sudden pressure. His hands grip my ass, guiding me down over him.

"Come on baby, that's it." He praises me as I keep sliding down. I stop when I can't take anymore, realizing I have at least four more inches to go.

"Oh, I know my little slut can take more than that."

I shake my head. "Negan, I don't think I -"

"You can, and you will, doll. I didn't come all the way here for you to only take half of my dick."

Tears fill my eyes as I try to sit all the way on him, wanting to make him proud. I make it another inch before the pain is too much. Not only with how deep he is, but he's so wide I think he may actually be ripping me apart.

"Deeper, y/n." He demands.

When I try again and fail, I quickly climb off of him frustrated. "I can't Negan, I'm trying!" He sits up in the bed, his feet on the floor now.

"Bend over."

"W-what?"

"Do not make me ask again." His jaw clenches as he stares at me seriously.

I lay myself over him, my ass facing upwards on his lap.

"You're going to take all of me, baby. If my wives at home can take me, I expect nothing less from you."

He doesn't even give me a warning before bringing his hand down painfully on my ass making me yelp. He chuckles darkly before smacking me again. He rubs the sensitive spot before teasing both of my holes.. One with his thumb and the other with his middle finger.

"What would daddy say if he could see you right now? Bent over my fucking lap and dripping for me like a little whore..." He pushes his thumb and finger deep inside each of my openings and I bite my lip hard at the pain.

I know he's trying to be all dominant right now.. I'm not oblivious to how rough sex works, but my eyes still sting with tears at his crude words. I shouldn't have built my hopes up that Negan could actually care and be gentle with me.

I sniffle as the tears fall, trying to wipe the snot dripping from my nose.

He quickly pulls me up and his eyes are filled with concern.

"Baby? Hey, look at me." He cups my face gently as I sit on the bed next to him.

"I - I liked you." I choke out. "I was the only one here who actually cared about you and saw you as a person.. and you.. you just see me as a stupid object you can shove your dick in.... You just ruined my first experience with a man. I hope you're happy." I sob while looks like someone just punched him in the gut.

"Fuck, sweetheart." He presses his forehead to mine, looking down with regret. "I didn't know you were all mushy about me and shit.. Truth is?" He tilts my chin to look at him. "I was being so harsh with you cause I didn't want to admit my own feelings. I didn't think you'd ever want an asshole like me, so I didn't want to go catching feelings for someone who didn't want me back. But baby? I can't get you outta my fucking head... Why do you think I started visiting every week?"

My teary eyes look up at him and he looks genuine. I want to trust him so badly, but my heart and head are saying two different things.

"Fuck, y/n. I know you don't believe me. Let me prove it to you. What can I do? Just say the fucking word."

"Stop taking our stuff... Leave our people alone..."

He chuckles lightly, shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to agree to. "Does that include you?"

I try to hide my grin as I wipe my tears with the back of my hand. "....No."

"Then it's a deal, baby."

"That's it? Just like that?" I look at him confused.

He shrugs. "Guess you've got me wrapped around your finger already, darlin...And now that I know you've never been with a man, I'm taking my fucking time with you." He lays me down on the bed while kissing and climbing over me.

"What about my dad? He'll be back soon."

"Simon's keeping watch, doll."

His lips travel to my neck. "....What about your other wives? You're just gonna fuck me and go back to them?"

He laughs against my neck. "Sweetheart.. I kicked every one of them to the curb the day I layed eyes on you."

My mouth drops open but he cuts me off by pulling my dress down over my chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. I moan and arch myself into him. After a few moments of sucking each one, he slides down further, lifting my dress to my waist and settling his head between my legs. I watch him in awe as he takes his time, kissing my inner thighs.

"Has anyone ever eaten you, baby?"

I shake my head no as I lean up on my elbows to watch him.

"Good." He spreads my pussy lips apart with his fingers and I blush at him staring at it. "Such a pretty pussy. Fuck." He says before locking eyes with me and pressing a kiss to my clit gently. I moan from the contact and arch myself into him, silently begging for more.

He dips his tongue in me and curls it up, gathering my juices. His eyes roll to the back of his head and he groans and licks all the way up to my clit before sucking on it softly. My mouth drops open and my hips try to jerk away, being overwhelmed by sensitivity.

He smiles against me. "Not going anywhere until you cum all over my face, doll." He wraps his arms up around my thighs, pressing my stomach down with his hands.

My breathing matches the speed of his licking and sucking and I feel the pressure building up inside me.

"Fuck, Negan!" My eyes are clenched shut but snap open when my door suddenly flies open.

"Shit! Dad!" I reach to throw my blanket over me, but defeatedly realize it's on the floor. My eyes widen in horror at my father standing in the doorway, looking like he just saw a ghost. A ghost that's eating his daughter's pussy. I'm unable to close my legs because Negan is still holding me down with his hands.

"God fucking dammit, Rick. We were just ge-"

"Negan!" I cut him off, my cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.

He kisses my pussy one more time and my eyes widen, not believing he just did that in front of my father. He finally leans up, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb and smirking at my dad like he's proud of himself.

I quickly get up and fix my dress.

"Dad, look, I -" I look up, stopping at the sight of Carl pointing a gun directly at Negan's head.

Negan tucks himself back into his jeans, buckling his belt and ignoring Carl.

"Carl.." I slowly step in front of Negan. "Put the gun down."

"You - you wanted this? Him?" My dad asks horrified. "He's done horrible things, y/n."

"And you haven't?!" I yell at my dad. "I watched you rip a man's neck open with your goddamn teeth. If he's a monster.. then so are you."

Negan steps beside me and laces his fingers through mine before kissing the side of my head.

"I love him, dad." I look up at Negan and elbow him roughly when I see a teasing smirk on his face.

"And you think he loves you? You can't be that stupid." My dad says, putting emphasis on the last word.

Negan chuckles and finally cuts in. "First of all, Dick, do not call my woman stupid. Secondly.." His faces grows serious. "We won't be taking anymore of your things. No more visits. Other than me paying this one a visit of course." Negan winks and puts his his arm around me protectively. "That is.. until she moves in with me." Our eyes all widen at the same time.

"You want me to live with you?" I turn to Negan.

"I mean, you did just confess your love for me, doll. Soo, yeah, that's the plan." He kisses my forehead.

"Y/n, we'll talk about this later. Negan, you need to leave. Now." My dad demands, his jaw ticking with anger.

Negan glares at my dad for a moment before turning to me, lifting my chin to kiss him slowly and passionately. Before he lets go, he whispers in my ear. "Meet me right outside the walls when it gets dark. I am nowhere near done with you, baby."

My heart flutters at the thought of us sneaking out together.

Negan walks towards the door before leaning close to my dad's ear. "I get to be her first, Rick. How fucking sweet is that." I struggle to make out his words but don't miss the chuckle at the end. He pats Carl's shoulder on his way out. "See ya 'round, bro."

"Love you, sweetheart!" He calls out to me as my dad and brother follow behind him, making sure he leaves.

I shut my door and smile giddily, running to the window and peeking out. Negan is already looking up at the window when I look at him. He smirks and winks at me before heading off to the gates.

A few hours later:

The sun just went down and my palms are starting to sweat as I pace back and forth on the outskirts of the gates. A million thoughts race through my head.

What if he doesn't come..

What if it's a trap..

What if he lied about everything he said..

Oh my god.. He's gonna kidnap and torture me..

Shut up. He wouldn't do that.

This is a bad idea. What am I doing.

Just as I turn to run back inside the walls, I see him appear from the shadows, wearing his signature leather jacket with a black t-shirt underneath.

"Were you about to ditch me, y/n?" He asks playfully as he pulls my wrist towards him and crashes his lips into mine. When the kiss deepens, he bends a little, pulling me up by the back of my thighs and wrapping my legs around his waist. We make out like horny teenagers while my fingers run through his slick black hair.

"You ready to officially be mine, doll?"

I nod without hesitation. "Yes. I'm already yours, Negan. I don't care what anyone thinks about us."

He kisses me again, setting me back down on the ground. "Lead the way, baby." He nods towards the side gates.

"You want to go back to my house? What if someone sees you?!"

"Kinda hope they do.. I like the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to." He smirks and it makes me knees weak.

"Okay.. come on." I pull his hand as I guide him back to my house. We sneak through the back sliding doors as carefully as possible before tiptoeing up the stairs.

He lightly smacks my ass as we're going up and I turn to shush him, tripping over my own feet in the process. He catches me before I make a loud thud on the stairs and his body is leaned over mine as we try not to laugh.

My body shakes as I laugh silently and bring my hand over my mouth quickly to stop any sound that comes out. His eyebrows raise at me with warning as if I better not make a noise.

"Okay, okay. Shushhh." I whisper before beginning our climb up the stairs again. My dad's room is at the end of the hall and mine is adjacent next to his. We try not to let the floors creak as we get closer to my room. We slip inside and I ease the door shut gently. When it finally clicks shut. I let go of a deep breath and look up at Negan. As soon as our eyes lock, we laugh like idiots, but quiet idiots.

He walks towards me. "Goddamn it, I fucking love you." He says as he lifts me back into his arms kissing me.

"You know.. earlier outside.." I breathe out between our kisses. "I thought.. that maybe you were gonna kidnap and torture me."

He smiles against my mouth as our lips lazily fight each other. "...What if I am?"

I stop kissing him to look at him. When I do, his look turns serious and it scares me for a moment. "I fully plan on making you mine and torturing you with this dick forever, doll."

I grin and roll my eyes as he continues holding me in his arms. "I guess there are worse ways to get tortured."

"Wait until I'm all the way inside you." His eyebrows raise teasingly.

I press my forehead to his and bring my hands to cup his face, kissing him again. I can't take my lips off of him. "Well what are you waiting for?"

That's all he needs to hear before he's walking me towards the bed and laying me down gently. He stands back up, removing his jacket and shirt.

I watch him closely, admiring the flex of his biceps when he moves. "Put the jacket back on. No shirt."

He laughs until he sees that I'm serious.

"Yes ma'am." He says with his little country accent. It's not always noticeable, but when it is.. it's so fucking adorable.

Once he's back in the jacket and bare chested, he stops for a moment before removing his pants. "Can I take these off, at least?"

"No, I want to."

He grin stretches as he walks towards the bed, keeping his hands by his sides. "All yours, baby."

I sit up in the bed in front of him and undo his button and zipper. I shuffle his pants down just a little before pulling his hardening cock out of his boxers. It turns to a steel rod in my hand and I don't care that I'm full on staring at it, assessing each vein and how it turns an ombre shade of pink towards the tip.

"I hope you like what you see, baby. Cause it's the only dick you're gonna be seeing for the rest of your life."

"I'm perfectly happy with that." I look up at him before kissing the tip of him, just like he did to my clit earlier. He watches me proudly, letting his fingers run through my hair lovingly.

I lick my lips before struggling to fit my mouth around him. He chuckles down at me.

“If you can’t fit me in that cunt, what makes you think you can take it down your throat, baby?”

I grin around him and I slide my mouth deeper and deeper. Surprisingly I don’t gag and I think it surprises him too.

Guess I don’t have a gag reflex. That’s good to know.

“Holyyy shit, doll. Look. At. You.” His voice is so deep it vibrates to my pussy. The tip hits the very back on my throat and even further until my eyes water.

I try to jerk my head back, but Negan pushes my head down on him again, my nose pressed into his pubic hair. He waits a few seconds until I feel like I’m going to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling my head back. I gasp for air and he pulls me all the way off of him while kicking his pants and boxers off.

"Trying to make me blow my load before we even get to the good part, darlin'? He climbs over me in the bed, kissing me softly.

My hands slip underneath his jacket and rub his back, scratching at it gently.

"I am gonna make you feel So fucking good." He says before kissing my neck. "You want me to be gentle with you baby?" His voice right in my ear makes me shiver.

I nod and he hovers his face above mine so we’re staring into each other eyes.

“You ready, baby?” He whispers and I nod again.

He leans up on his knees between me and lines himself up with my entrance before pushing the tip through. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

He slowly slides in me further and further as he holds my legs open.

“Goddamn this pussy is so fucking Tight.” He pulls back a little before pushing in deeper and my mouth gapes open slightly.

He chuckles and stares down at me through heavy eyelids. "I'm not even halfway yet, sweetheart. You want more?"

I nod desperately as my eyes fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation of him so deep inside me.

"Take it then, doll. Grind on me and make yourself feel good." He stops moving completely while still on his knees between my legs.

My cheeks blush at his request and he smirks down at me, sliding his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, refusing to move or touch me.

I lean up on my elbows while he's still inside me and push my body further into him, taking every inch I possibly can. I grind myself against him until I find just the right spot for the tip of his cock to press into and drop my head back at how good it feels, not caring about the desperate sounds I let out.

"Oh my god, Negan.. fuck." My face reddens at the intense pleasure as I continue using his cock to pleasure myself.

"Fuck, baby. Now THIS? Is a Fucking sight.. Watching you get off on my cock like a desperate little whore."

"Touch me, Negan. Please."

"Please what?"

"Please Negan."

He removes his hands from his jacket to lean over me, holding himself above me with one hand on the bed while bringing the other to lightly grip my throat.

His dark hazel eyes dart back and forth between mine as he squeezes his fingers gently around my neck. My face reddens even more at the sudden loss of air.

"Try again, doll."

"Please... daddy." I choke out and he quickly releases my throat.

"Good girl." He kisses my lips softly before thrusting his hips hard, completely filling me until his balls are flush against me.

I scream out and his hand immediately covers my mouth while his head dips to the side of mine and his deep voice fills my ear once again.

"Sshhh, baby. I know. I know." He pulls out almost completely before sliding in again, this time softer but just as deep.

My eyes fill with tears at the pain but I don't want him to stop. My fingers grip the bottom of his jacket as he continues fucking me hard and at a steady pace. The headboard begins to lightly bump the wall above me and my eyes widen with panic.

"Negan, the bed. My dad's room is right on the other side."

He chuckles lightly in my ear but doesn't speak. Instead, he pounds into me even harder and faster with his head is buried into my neck.

"Negan!" I whisper yell at him but it feels too good to make him stop. The closer my orgasm gets, the less I care about my dad hearing us.

After a few more thrusts, he slows down and suddenly flips us over with his dick still inside me until I'm laying over him.

"Negan, my dad's gonna come in here! We have to be quie-"

Before I finish, he lifts his knees up and rams his cock into me hard. It feels even deeper from this angle and hits a spot that makes me see stars.

"Come here, baby." He maneuvers me until my arms are wrapped around him and my head is nestled into his neck. He smells like musky cologne and sweat and I can't help but lick him. Our mouths are next to each others ears, breathing and moaning heavily as he begins to thrust up into me faster than ever. The headboard slams into the wall with force but I don't even care.

This feeling is unlike anything I've ever felt or knew was possible, so the last thing I'm gonna do is tell him to stop.

"Negan.." I cry out. "Faster."

He obeys and wraps his arms around me tighter, fucking me at an animalistic pace. I cum so hard and fast I don't even have time to announce it. My pussy clenches and I feel myself suddenly leak around him, soaking his dick and probably even the bed below us.

"Goddamn. That's my good fucking girl... You gonna let daddy cum in this pussy, baby?"

"Yes! Please." I whine.

He growls in my ear and holds himself deep and still inside me as his dick pulses over and over.

I try to slide off of him when he's finished, but he holds me tight, not letting me leave.

"Negan, you need to leave before my dad-"

"He's not here, sweetheart."

"What?!" I snap my eyes to his.

"Relax, baby. He's fine. But I did warn him that if he didn't want to hear his baby girl screaming "daddy" all night.. then he should take your siblings and go stay the night with Daryl." He grins up at me and my brows come together with confusion.

"Wait you.. you told him about our plan?"

"Of course baby. Had to be respectful and ask for your old man's blessing."

"And.. and he gave it to you?!"

Negan laughs and reaches up to tuck my hair behind my ear. "Absolutely not. But respectfully, I told him he didn't have a choice."

The next morning:

My vagina is screaming at me for allowing it to be destroyed last night. I can't count on one hand how many times Negan made me cum. I open my eyes to the sun shining through my window and immediately notice Negan is gone. I shoot up and look around, seeing that his clothes are also gone.

What if he just.. got what he wanted and left..

I throw the covers off of me and get up, grabbing my sundress of the floor and throwing it on before making my way through the house.

"Carl?!.... Dad?!" I yell as I descend quickly down the stairs. I stop at the bottom to find Negan stirring a pot of something on the stove.

"There she is! Mornin' sunshine." I walk over to Negan to see what he's cooking and he holds a spoon up to my mouth, letting me taste the deliciousness. This man can fuck and cook... what a god.

"Was wonderin when you were gonna wake the hell up. It's already lunch time, baby." He presses his lips to mine and I notice his freshly shaven face. I've never seen him like his and he looks so incredibly handsome.

He lifts me up and sets me on the kitchen counter while standing between my legs.

"Mmm, promise me you'll wear little sundresses with no panties underneath for the rest of our lives, doll." He says as he kisses me sweetly. I giggle and wrap my arms around him, kissing his neck.

"You hungry baby?" He asks and I nod sleepily.

"Me too." He slowly gets down on his knees in front of me, draping my legs over his shoulders.

He softly licks me with his tongue, moaning from the taste before burying his face further into me until I feel his tongue push past my hole. His shaven face feels soft and much more gentle than his beard.

My fingers run through his black hair, tugging on it gently as my head falls back.

"Mmm, daddy." I moan and my eyes snap open, hearing movement at the front door. I quickly jerk Negan up while pulling my dress down and sliding off the counter, seeing my dad, Carl, and Daryl standing in the doorway. Carl quickly covers Judith's eyes while he holds her and Negan sighs annoyedly at the sight of them.

"God..DAMN it, Rick. Again? You gotta learn to fucking knock."

"It's my house." My dad's expression is unreadable as he stands there, eyeing Negan. "You said one night. You can be on your way now."

"Well now don't be fucking rude, Prick. Have a seat." He grins widely at my dad before gesturing to the table. "I made spaghetti."

The End.

4K notes · View notes

janiehellion · 9 days ago

Text

The Fine Line

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: He's everything you should fear, yet somehow everything you crave. One night. One decision. And no turning back.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: NEGAN SMITH X VIRGIN!FEM!READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: AGE GAP / LOSS OF VIRGINITY / SMUT / LANGUAGE / ANGST / CUNNILINGUS / UNPROTECTED P-IN-V SEX / POSSIBLE GRAMMATICAL ERROS

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6.975

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @severesandwichparadise

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: It's been way too long since I’ve written anything about Negan—who makes a heart race and the thoughts dirty. This one’s been a long time coming, and I really hope you like it.

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You hadn’t seen him before, not like this. The way he walked into Alexandria, like he owned the place with that grin that made you gulp in a way you hated to admit. Negan. The man who’d haunted your nightmares, the man who had killed Glenn, Abraham—friends who mattered. You had heard of it, of course. Everyone had—the infamous Negan—the man who controlled the Saviors.

And he didn’t come alone. Of course, he didn’t. His Saviors stood right behind him, all armed and ready to kill whenever he told them to.

Rick was already waiting near the gate of Alexandria, looking more than just nervous while trying to act like he wasn’t following Negan’s orders. But you could see it in his eyes—the way his body was tense like he was trying to remember how to breathe around this man who had broken him several times by now.

And that was it. The first time you laid eyes on Negan.

He went over to Rick immediately while the rest of the group watched silently, and you couldn’t help but watch too, unable to look away.

"Negan," Rick greeted, in a way like he was trying to hold on to some dignity. "What do you want this time?"

"Oh, Rick, Rick, Rick," Negan said, clicking his tongue. "Always so goddamn polite." He let out a laugh, stepping toward him. "I’m here for my shit, as usual. You know how it goes. Supplies, gas, and food. Everything you can manage. And you sure as shit can manage that, right?"

Negan looked around then, his eyes looking over the rest of the group. He seemed amused as he watched the faces, and when he caught your eye, you felt it. That feeling. That weird moment where it felt like the entire community was watching. It was short, but it was enough to make your heart race.

And then he was back to Rick, giving him a pat on the shoulder that made him visibly flinch.

"You’ve done well, Rick," Negan said as if Rick were some dog that had finally learned to roll over. "Now, if you’ve got any more of my stuff, we can end this real quick, and I’ll be on my way. You sure as shit don’t mind a little bonus, do you?"

You hated the way Rick flinched and how he didn’t say anything. He just nodded.

Then Negan’s eyes were back on you, and this time he didn’t look away, while that grin of his turned into something a little less mocking and a little more… calculating. There was something about the way he looked at you—like he was trying to figure you out, or maybe just taking his time with the show.

He straightened up fast, pushing Rick aside as he moved closer to you. "What’s your name, sweetheart?"

"None of your damn business," you shot back, unable to stop the hate in your voice.

Negan raised an eyebrow, amused. "So aggressive… I like that. But you’re still not going to tell me, young lady?"

You didn’t answer.

With a final smirk, Negan turned his attention back to Rick, shaking his head as he moved on to collect his supplies.

"Now, Rick, I’m going to need some more supplies, or we’re going to have a problem. And you don’t want that."

You stood there, watching. And it wasn’t just Negan’s words that stuck with you—it was the way he had looked at you. That quick second where you felt something. Something dangerous.

Negan Smith sure as hell was trouble—the kind you didn’t need, but the kind of trouble you wanted to know more about.

Over the next few weeks, you couldn’t avoid him. No matter how hard you tried to stick to your routine or slip away from Alexandria, Negan always seemed to cross your path.

It started small—little things, like looking into his eyes again. It wasn’t just the way he looked back at you; it was the way he began to size you up—like he knew you inside out. He wasn’t just playing with you—at least not in the way you thought. He seemed interested.

You’d be working with the others, repairing gear, or doing your usual chores, and he’d just appear, like some bad dream, some nightmare that wouldn’t leave.

"Well, well, look who it is," he’d said, standing a little too close. "What’s it like, huh? Living in this boring-ass little town?"

"Don’t you have something else to do, Negan?" You didn’t even try to hide the annoyance and the irritation in your voice. But you hated how easily he made your heart race, how every word out of his mouth felt like a game, one that you weren’t sure you wanted to play.

"Oh, I do have something to do," he said, smirking at you. "But I can always make time for you." He leaned in, just enough to make you feel trapped.

You stiffened, swallowing back the urge to snap at him and tell him to go fuck himself. But before you could say anything, one of the Saviors—Simon, you thought—approached.

"Negan," Simon called out. "We’ve got the supplies loaded. We're ready to go!"

Negan looked over his shoulder, nodding slowly. "Alright." Then, with a wink, he'd turned back to you and said, "I’ll catch you later, sweetheart."

The next few times he showed up were no different. You’d be working or standing around with some of the others, and you’d feel his eyes on you, always there—always on you. Every time you caught him, it was as if he was trying to break you open, piece by piece.

And he wasn’t afraid to cross the line. Not once.

"Hey, doll," Negan called out one afternoon when you were walking toward his truck, your arms full of supplies. "You know, Rick’s got himself a real tough girl on his hands. Bet he doesn’t know how to handle someone like you. Or does he handle you quite well?"

You could feel the heat in your face, your cheeks turning red just a little. You knew what he was doing—trying to get under your skin, trying to make you react. But the more he did it, the more you found yourself struggling to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about him. Even when you told yourself to stay cool and not let him get to you, it was somehow impossible.

"Keep it up, Negan," you shot back. "I’m not impressed. Try harder."

Negan’s grin only widened. "Oh, but I sure as hell think you are. Why, do you like it hard?"

But before you could answer him, a voice cut you off.

"Hey!" Rick shouted from a few feet away. "Leave her alone!"

Negan looked at him, laughing out loud. "Oh, Rick, Rick, Rick," he said, shaking his head, still eyeing you. "Don’t worry, your little girl here can take it. And she likes it hard. I can tell."

Rick stepped forward, but Simon and the other Saviors moved in quickly, creating a barrier between the both of them. It was a warning to everyone: stay in your place.

"Fuck off, Negan," you whispered, trying to push past him, but he didn't let you.

He stepped in front of you, blocking your path. "Oh, I will. But first, tell me something, doll," he said, leaning in close. "How about you stop pretending you don’t like the attention?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because the truth—that truth—was something you didn’t want to admit.

Not yet.

You didn’t have time to process it. Rick was already pulling you aside, his face looking angry.

"Listen," he growled, gripping your arm a little too tightly, which made you wince. "You need to keep your fucking distance from him. I’ve warned you about Negan, about the Saviors. Told you what they did, what he did."

"I can handle myself just fine," you snapped back, ripping your arm free from his grip.

Rick’s eyes narrowed. "You’re not seeing things clearly. He’s a monster. Don’t let him get in your head, alright?"

You scoffed, shaking your head. "I’m not some helpless little girl, Rick. I might still be young in your eyes, but you don’t need to babysit me. I'm not a damn child! Not anymore!"

"You think I’m babysitting you?" Rick hissed. "I’m trying to keep you safe, trying to keep all of us safe. You can’t fuck around with him, and you sure as hell can’t challenge him like that in front of the rest of the Saviors. Do you know what you’re doing? It’s dangerous."

Dangerous? The thought was gnawing at you. You hadn’t challenged Negan—at least, you didn’t think you had.

The days passed again after Negan’s last visit, and you found yourself constantly wondering when he’d show up again, what he’d say, and what he’d do. You told yourself you hated him—what he represented, the way he treated Rick and the others in your group—but the truth was you couldn’t deny that he made you feel something.

Then it happened again. Negan rolled into Alexandria, and you were standing off to the side, as usual, trying to stay out of his way, but your eyes couldn’t help but follow him.

Then, everything went to shit.

Carl soon was on his knees, Lucille raised high above his head. The sudden sound of the bat against the ground sent a shiver down your spine. Rick was scared, just like the others—defeated, sobbing, begging.

"Do you see what happens when you don’t follow the damn rules, Rick?" Negan's voice was cold. "Your little boy here gets a taste of what happens when his Daddy doesn’t play nice and doesn't give me what is mine."

You clenched your fists, your body trembling. Rick was a wreck, barely holding it together as he watched his son kneel in front of Negan like a lamb ready for slaughter.

"Please," Rick whispered as he tried to reason, "just… just let him go. I’ll do anything. Just don’t kill him! I swear, there must've been a misunderstanding while loading up the supplies the last time! We gave you everything we could! I promise!"

"Excuses… excuses. Bullshit. I warned you to not fuck with me. Do not make me tell you twice, Rick. You know I’m going to do it if you don’t get me what I want. Now, what’s it going to be? I could end this little bastard right here, right now."

Rick’s face was pale, his eyes all red and swollen, and Negan smiled, loving every second of it. "You’ll do anything, huh? Well, I’ve got an idea. Now, you see, I can’t kill this little piece of shit—not yet. That’d be too easy. But I could take something else from you. I’ll let him go… but I need her."

Everything inside you froze as he pointed Lucille straight at you.

But you didn’t hesitate, not because you wanted to go with him, but because you knew—if you didn’t—Carl was dead.

"Fine. Take me." It somehow was the hardest thing you’d ever said. You hated that you had to do it, but for Carl’s life, for Rick’s sake, and everyone else, there was no other choice.

Rick's words died in his throat as he tried to keep it together. "No, no, no, no, you don’t have to—"

"I do," you interrupted, stepping forward. You wouldn’t let the Saviors take Carl’s life. "I’ll go with him."

Negan’s grin widened as he nodded, and without another word, he pulled you toward him and he began leading you to the truck. You could hear Rick’s desperate voice calling after you, but it didn’t matter anymore. This was happening.

The ride to the Sanctuary felt endless. Your mind was spinning with a dozen thoughts, none of them making sense. Once you got inside the Sanctuary, the Saviors separated you from the rest of Negan’s people, and you were brought to a small, actually cozy room.

You just stood there, trying to gather your thoughts. You couldn’t look at him—Negan—who had just played with a life like a prize.

Meanwhile, he was leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. "This is one hell of a nice room, huh? I thought you’d appreciate it. After all, you’re a guest now."

"I’m not your fucking guest," you snapped, finally looking at him, unable to keep the anger at bay. "You think this is some kind of joke? You’re the reason I’m here! You’re the one that made me choose between Carl’s life and my fucking dignity!"

Negan didn’t flinch. He just stared at you. "No, no. You’re here because you made the right choice. You chose life. You chose Carl’s life. And that’s what I like about you."

You stepped forward, fists clenched, heart racing in your chest. "You’re a monster. And you—you just walk around like you own every single person that crosses your way like you have the right to decide who lives and who dies!"

Negan pushed himself off the doorframe. "You think I like doing that?" His voice was colder now, but still, he seemed strangely calm. "You think I enjoy seeing my people get hurt? To watch my people die? No. I do what I gotta do. And what I did? Hell, ask Ricky-boy about the real reason why I… attacked. This world doesn’t give a damn about feelings, doll. It’s survival."

"It’s not survival to make people suffer, Negan. It’s not."

There was a pause, a long one, where Negan looked at you again, his jaw tightening as though he were processing something.

And then, before you could say another word, his lips were on yours, pressing against you and leaving you breathless. You froze, shocked, but his kiss wasn’t hard or punishing like everything else about him—it was tender, almost gentle, even though you could feel the force of it.

When he pulled back, he let out a soft sigh and turned, walking toward the door again. "You’re still not ready for the real world as it is now, even though you've survived it since the beginning," he said, more to himself than you. "But I think you will be."

Soon enough, it again had been a few days since you were brought to the Sanctuary, and each day felt like an eternity. The walls seemed to close in, and inside of them were shadows of people who whispered their secrets when they were alone.

You had the room to yourself, which you hated and appreciated at the same time. At least you weren’t forced to be together with the rest of the Saviors—most of whom still looked at you like you were some sort of prize to be claimed.

Negan had kept his distance after that kiss, which left you feeling like you were constantly on the edge of something threatening. You felt how your body betrayed you, how every time you heard his voice or saw his grin, something inside you changed. It was fucked up, and you knew it.

You were pacing in your room one late evening, trying to get your mind off the curiosity and disgust you felt when you heard a quick knock at your door. Quiet, but loud enough for you to notice. You opened it cautiously, only to see Dwight standing there.

"Hey," he said quietly, almost a little too nervous. "I… uh, just wanted to thank you."

You blinked at him, confused. "Thank me for what? What are you talking about?"

"For doing what you did. For agreeing to stay here. For… for keeping Negan off our backs."

You still didn’t know what he was talking about. "What the hell are you thanking me for, Dwight?" You asked, narrowing your eyes in suspicion.

He let out a slow breath, his eyes looking down to the floor. "For the women," he whispered. "Negan’s been leaving them alone ever since you… Well, ever since you caught his interest, I'd say."

You’d been hearing rumors of the women, those who lived in the Sanctuary with Negan as his wives, but you hadn’t understood how deep it went. "What do you mean… leaving them alone?"

Dwight’s eyes met yours again. "The women… his wives," he said. "He hasn’t touched any of them since he saw you."

Your mind struggled to process it. "You’re telling me there’s a bunch of women just waiting around for him?"

"It’s not like that. Not anymore. He used to call on them whenever he wanted to—" He continued, but trailed off. "When he saw you, he stopped. He hasn’t touched any of them since, and I… we just wanted to thank you for that."

You were quiet for a long moment, his words sinking in. Your mind wandered to those women. It wasn’t disgust you felt—it was a strange kind of curiosity, the kind of curiosity you couldn’t ignore. He hadn’t touched them, but why? What did that mean for you? What was it about you that made him stop?

But you didn’t say any of that to Dwight. You just stood there and didn’t ask him about the women or what they’d gone through.

Instead, you looked at him and said quietly, "You don’t need to thank me."

Dwight stared at you, and then he finally nodded. "Well, I do. And I’m not blind, and I know that, as fucked up as this place is, it’s better for them. Better for her… Even if you don’t want to hear it."

Then, without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the Sanctuary. You shut the door slowly, your mind racing. You couldn’t get the thought of the women out of your head. And you sure as hell couldn’t stop wondering what would happen to you now that you were here.

In this place, with him.

You didn’t know. But the question—oh, it burned itself into your mind.

It was confusing. On one hand, you knew Negan was a monster. And yet, here you were. You were drawn to him, to the dangerous pull he had over you.

You tried to push it all away; you tried to tell yourself you were just looking for a way to survive. You weren’t one of those women. You wouldn’t be. He wasn’t going to control you like that.

But still, there was that pull. The way his eyes watched you when he thought no one else was looking, the way his voice changed when he spoke near you.

You were now sitting on your bed, head spinning, when you heard the familiar footsteps outside your door. You didn’t have to look to know it was him. That presence—his presence—it was unmistakable.

He knocked once, hard and loud, before pushing the door open, his grin already in place.

"Well, well," he said. "I see you’ve been keeping yourself busy by talking to Dwight."

You didn’t speak right away; your eyes were staring at him, fighting the need to look down. "I’m not interested in small talk, Negan, and not in an interrogation either," you shot back.

"Of course you’re not." He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyeing you like he was taking inventory. "You know, you can talk to me in a normal way, right? My attention's all on you right now, doll, but your attention isn't on me."

You scoffed, trying to hide the blush on your face. "Normal? Right. Why don't you go and beg for attention elsewhere?"

"Because I don’t beg."

Negan didn’t seem to care about any response. Slowly, he moved into the room, stepping closer, making you instinctively slide back on your bed, though there was no escape, so you stood up, standing in front of him.

"You know," he said quietly, now looking down at you. "I’ve been thinking about you. A lot."

You swallowed hard, your throat dry, unable to find the words to answer. He was so close now… You could smell him—sweat, leather—and something else you couldn’t quite place.

"I’m not gonna lie to you," he continued. "I don’t wanna fuck this up."

"And I don’t want you to want me," you said before you could stop yourself.

He laughed in response as if he enjoyed seeing you stumble over your own words. "Then why the fuck are you standing so goddamn fucking close to me, huh?"

You didn’t have an answer for that.

You wanted him, but you were scared. Scared of the person he was. Scared of being another name on his list. But you couldn’t deny it. Your body, your mind—they craved him. It was like a hunger you couldn’t ignore.

"Maybe that’s why I’m here," you whispered, looking up at him. "Maybe I’m only curious."

"Curious, huh?" His fingers moved slowly up your arm. "Curious about what, exactly?"

You took a shaky breath, fighting the urge to close the space between the two of you. "About what it’d be like."

His smile disappeared, and for a moment, it seemed like he was holding his breath. Then, without a second thought, he stepped back. "I think that’s a conversation for another time."

You didn’t even think; the words just came out. "What is this even to you?" You growled, watching his smirk come back as he leaned against the wall with that irritating look of his. "So what if I haven't… I mean, since the world ended, I haven’t been with anyone. I mean, before it all went down neither, but… Just… Not once, okay. But, I mean—"

That caught his attention, though he tried to hide it. He raised an eyebrow, and for once, he looked like he might take you seriously.

"Wait, wait, wait. You’re telling me," he started, "that in all this time, you haven’t felt the need to… fuck?"

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms as you shot back, "Why do you even care, Negan? You've got your… supply of it at all times, don't you?" The words came out more bitter than you’d meant, but you were fed up.

Negan blinked several times, looking thrown off. But it only lasted a second, though this time his usual grin looked more like a mask. "Well, that’s the damn thing, doll. Haven’t been with any of them, not in a while. Guess I had my eye on something else."

"While I don’t know what I want," you suddenly whispered. "I don’t even know if I should want this—with you. I feel horrible. Fucking horrible."

One of his hands came up, fingers brushing along your jaw and down your neck. "Shit, I get it," he said. "But this isn’t some game, alright? You want this? I’m going to give it to you. But if you’re not all in, you better tell me right fucking now."

"Yes, I… I'm sure."

He watched you carefully. "You sure, sweetheart? Not just saying it 'cause you think it’s what I wanna hear?"

"No, I’m sure."

"Alright," he mumbled. "Then we do this slowly. No rushing, no stupid bullshit."

You finally leaned forward, your lips pressing against his in a kiss that was soft at first, hesitant. But then his arms wrapped around you, and the kiss turned rougher as he pulled you closer, hands now moving down your back, pulling you against him while kicking the door of your room shut.

"Hell," he breathed against your lips, "didn’t realize you’d be this damn sweet."

His fingers moved to the hem of your shirt as he broke the kiss. "Last chance to change your mind, darling," he whispered, though, with a bit of restraint. But you shook your head, pulling him closer again, your teeth biting his neck, feeling the shiver that went through him.

Negan let out a growl, and his hands moved quickly under your shirt. "Been wanting to touch you like this for some time now."

You could see him smile—that provocative, arrogant grin that only made you want him more. His hands soon moved to your pants and undid them teasingly, drawing it out until you were almost trembling.

He took his time, his knuckles pressing against your hips as he slid the waistband of your pants down, along with your panties. You swallowed hard, but it wasn’t from fear. It was pure lust—the way he made you feel like the most important thing in the world just by looking at you.

"Relax," he whispered, "I’m not in any damn hurry."

You closed your eyes, letting yourself fall into the moment, letting yourself get lost in the touch of his hands, his lips, and the way he held you like you were something precious, something worth cherishing. You’d expected roughness, maybe even cruelty, but this—this was different.

"You… you’re being so… gentle."

Negan froze. "Of course I am. Why? This isn’t just about me, you know. I want this to feel good for us—for you. Just trust me," he mumbled as he pulled your shirt over your head and undid your bra. "Damn, look at you…"

Heat rushed to your face, and you ducked your head, only for him to gently lift your chin. "Don’t hide from me," he said softly. "Let me see you, all of you."

Negan's hands moved to your tits, his fingers brushing over your nipples until they hardened under his touch, before he leaned down, his mouth following where his hands had been. "Now, just tell me if anything is too much, alright?"

You nodded breathlessly, and he rewarded you with his lips sucking on your nipple, his hand quickly finding its way between your thighs, fingers moving over your clit, rubbing softly until your hips bucked, wanting more.

Somehow, you managed to push one of your hands down between you both, squeezing his cock through his pants. He let out a groan, but you felt clumsy, even unsure, and fumbling a bit as you tried to stroke him the way you thought he’d like.

He laughed a little, grabbing your hand with his own. "Slow down, sweetheart," he said, grinning as he helped you to open up his pants and let them fall with his boxers. "Take your damn time."

But even though you felt uncertain, Negan's reaction told you that you were doing something right, his breathing stopping from time to time and his hands grabbing you harder as you continued. His groan was almost a growl as he finally stepped out of his pants, quickly getting rid of his shirt before pulling you up and pushing you down onto your bed.

"Think you’re ready for this? Might hurt a little, but that's nothing to worry about. Just tell me if you feel uncomfortable, okay?"

You nodded, your heart racing as he lined himself up with your pussy, one hand steadying you while the other was pushing his cock inside you.

The stretch was intense, your body trying to adjust to him, and he paused every inch or so, letting you get used to the feel of his cock, making sure you weren’t in any pain. As he pushed further, his other hand found yours, both your fingers intertwining to keep you from getting lost in the slightly uncomfortable pressure at first.

"You’re alright, sweetheart. Just breathe," he mumbled, kissing your cheek, waiting until you gave him a signal to keep going.

Negan’s forehead rested against yours as he pushed further inside. "You’re doing so well for me. So damn good."

Each inch he gave you felt thicker, the pressure hard but not painful. "You alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, I’m good."

"That's a good girl," he whispered. "Let me know if it’s too much, and I’ll stop. I mean it."

Finally, he was fully inside, filling you up in a way that felt overwhelming—almost too much.

But Negan didn’t move right away. He stayed there, deep inside you, as you both caught your breath. His free hand moved down, sliding up your thigh as if to calm you. "You’re taking me so damn good, doll. Feels like you were made for me."

You tightened your legs around his hips, clinging to him as if letting go would somehow destroy the magic of the moment.

"How’s that feel, huh?" he asked as he started to move. "Don’t hold back, baby. I wanna hear you. Bet it feels so fucking good."

Between moans, your free hand found his shoulder, nails scratching his skin as you held on. You could feel how he was holding himself back from losing control, but now and then, a loud groan slipped out, followed by a deeper and quicker thrust.

You swallowed hard, your voice trembling. "It’s—oh fuck—it’s so good, Negan!"

That was all he wanted to hear from you. "Fuck, you’re so tight," he growled, starting to rub slow circles over your clit.

And the feeling of his cock, the fullness, was maddening, each faster thrust of him making you hold harder onto him.

Tears started to appear in your eyes, but not from pain. Negan noticed immediately as he untangled his hand from yours and cupped your cheek. "Hey, hey… You okay? Tell me if this is too much."

You shook your head quickly, blinking back the tears. "It’s not that—it’s just… I didn’t know it could feel like this."

"But you deserve this," he said quietly. "Deserve to be treated right. To be fucked right."

And it didn't take long until a new, even stranger pressure built itself inside you—something new but irresistible like you were on the edge of something intense, or maybe even embarrassing, but you couldn’t reach it, and he didn't let you.

You rolled your hips against him, searching for more—the need for something harder, something faster. Both your hands now gripped his shoulders tightly while you whimpered in frustration.

"Negan… more," you begged with urgency, only to make him stop.

He pulled back just enough to look at you. "Oh, you want more, huh?" He asked, teasing you.

You nodded, arching your back to meet his next thrust. "Please," you gasped, your thighs tightening around his hips as you tried to pull him deeper.

"Easy, sweetheart," he said, his hands gripping your hips firmly, pushing you back down. "You’ll get what you need, but you’re gonna take it slow."

He thrust into you again, painfully slow, his cock pushing against your sensitive spot inside you. You tried again to lift your hips, but his grip tightened, holding you still and him thrusting harder.

"You feel that?" He growled. "How good I make you feel when you let me take my time?"

"Negan, I think… I think I need to… pee." You could barely get the words out, too caught up in the feeling and your sudden shame, until you felt like you might burst.

"You think you need to piss? Nah, that’s just me fuckin’ you so goddamn good."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, but the overwhelming feeling between your legs pushed it away.

"Let it go, baby. Let me make you lose it." As if on cue, he thrust faster, burying himself in your pussy just right, over and over again, until your whole body stiffened. "That’s it," Negan groaned, watching with fascination. "Fucking perfect."

Suddenly, without warning, your pussy clenched tightly around his cock as you came, your entire body trembling.

"Oh… yes, yes, yes!" You moaned out loud, your nails scratching down his whole back and grabbing his ass, trying to push him deeper again. "That feels so fucking good! Don't stop! Don't stop! Don't—"

Negan ate your moans and whimpers up like a man starved. "Goddamn, baby, next time you're gonna be squirting all over me," he groaned, not slowing down. "Could feel you coming like this all the time."

It was like everything went black, your orgasm shooting so intensely through you in a way that left you breathless, with you clinging so tightly to him as your body shuddered, moaning his name in pure need.

Watching you come so hard around him had done something to Negan, something he wasn’t expecting so fast. That look on your face, the way your body was shaking, the way you’d gasped his name—hell, he wanted to keep that image burned into his mind forever.

He slowed his movements just enough to not come too soon. His eyes never left your face, watching you ride out your orgasm, writhing against him and wanting more, given that blissed-out expression on your face. He was right there, on the edge himself, and for another moment, he let himself get lost in the way you squirmed, all desperate, a sight simply too good for words.

Just before Negan came, he quickly pulled out, but your hand grabbed his wrist. "Negan, please," you begged, your thighs trembling as you reached for him. "I want you to come inside me."

He froze, staring down at you in disbelief. "Fuck, doll," he said, his hand stroking his cock as he positioned himself over you. "Believe me, I sure as hell would."

"Then do it," you demanded as your hips moved toward him, trying to push him back inside.

But Negan shook his head, his grin returning as he leaned down, his lips kissing yours. "Not gonna happen. Can’t let you get knocked up… just yet."

He was squeezing his cock and pumping a few more strokes until he finally exploded, his cum shooting all over your stomach and tits. It was everything he loved about moments like this. The sight of you, the feeling of his cock pulsing in his hand and marking you with his load… everything.

"Shit... You know, that might just be my new favorite view," he soon smirked, letting out a shaky laugh.

You blushed, suddenly very aware of his cum all over you and the ache that you still felt between your legs.

You were sprawled out on the bed, your body still trembling, your legs twitching slightly as if they couldn’t handle the sudden emptiness.

"Fuckin’ hell," he continued, as he now knelt at the edge of the bed, his hands spreading your thighs apart again. "Look at this, sweetheart. Look at how bad your pussy still wants me."

Before you could process what was happening, he leaned in, his tongue licking over your oversensitive clit. You screamed, and Negan’s strong hands pinned you down as his mouth tasted you, his tongue teasing you like he had all the time in the world.

"Negan—fuck, it’s too much," you whined, trying to squirm away, but his grip tightened.

"Nah, sweetheart," he growled, pulling back just long enough to smirk up at you. "You can take it."

His tongue moved lower, teasing your folds, and when he finally slid it inside, you let out a loud cry. He groaned against you as he took his time tasting you and eating you out, his nose bumping against your clit.

It didn’t take long before you were coming again as you sobbed his name, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer even as your body begged for a break.

When he finally pulled away, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and smirked at you. "Hell, I think you’re my new favorite meal. You look like a goddamn masterpiece."

You groaned, half-embarrassed, half-needy, and gave him a weak push on the chest with one leg. "Well, don’t just sit there and stare."

"Bossy already, huh?" He laughed, shaking his head as he stood up. He yanked open one of the drawers, rummaging through until he found an old rag.

"Hold still, sweetheart," he said, kneeling back over you and wiping away the cum. "Can’t have you goin’ around lookin’ like that. Might make people think I’ve got myself a favorite," he winked, his grin looking just a tiny bit arrogant.

But as he leaned over you, moving the rag over tits and cleaning them, his thumb brushed over one of your nipples, and you let out a soft moan.

Negan just smiled. "Guess I did a damn good job."

Before you could respond, his lips sucked on the same nipple he’d just touched. He sucked gently, his tongue switching from one to the other, squeezing and massaging your tits.

"Can’t help myself, darling. These tits deserve some extra love."

Once he was done, he tossed the rag aside, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, his mouth all tender against your skin.

"You did so good. Real damn good,” he whispered like he wanted you to feel every word as he moved next to you again, putting an arm around you and pulling you close against him.

You let out a sigh, the exhaustion quickly starting to catch up to you as you cuddled up to him, feeling safe, even here, even with him. "I… didn't bleed down there, right? Or did I?"

"No, you didn't; don't worry. Not every woman does. But don’t you go getting used to this," he teased. "Next time, I’ll just have to make sure I don’t leave you so damn worn out. Can’t have you fallin’ asleep on me every time."

You mumbled something he couldn't make out, half asleep already, but he just held you tighter.

"Alright, alright, get some sleep then, sweetheart," he whispered, his hand brushing through your hair. "I’ll be right here, don’t you worry. Just sleep. That was your first time, after all."

And you did, soon drifting off, strangely feeling safer than you had in a long time, to the sound of his heartbeat that stayed with you even as you slipped into sleep.

But the next morning slammed into you like a brick to the face. Your eyes blinked open to the sight of Negan’s chest and the scratch of his beard against you. The rest of the day before came back quick—too quick—every moment of his hands on your body, his mouth… him so deep inside of you.

You flinched away, heart racing as you pushed yourself out and away from under his arm. Every bit of you wanted to scream with shame and anger. This was Negan—the man who’d terrorized everyone you cared about, and here you were with him, completely naked.

You grabbed the first thing you could reach—a glass on the nightstand—and threw it at the wall. A pillow went flying, then a chair.

You saw him waking up, but you couldn’t stop. It was a need—this craving to let it all out. That man had you wrapped around his finger without you even realizing it—and now you wanted out. It was impossible, but right now, nothing was making sense; nothing felt real. And you were scared.

"Hey, hey, calm the hell down, would you?" Negan’s voice came from behind you. You ignored him, anger rising again as you grabbed for anything else you could throw, maybe even at him.

"Get away from me!" You snapped, turning to look at him, fists clenched at your sides. "I can't—you're… This is all so fucked, Negan! Do you even get that?" You shoved him back, but he grabbed your wrists tightly.

"Oh, I get it, alright," he smirked, his grin widening as he held your wrists. "Seems like someone’s a little sore, huh? Confused, even?"

"Let go of me!" You struggled, trying to move away, but he didn’t let go. The more you fought, the tighter he grabbed, his eyes watching you with amusement.

"Think I’m going to let you throw shit around and just walk away?" He asked, pulling you closer.

"Negan, let me go!" You shouted again, your voice cracking as he turned you around, holding you close against his chest from behind, both of his arms wrapping around your body. You tried to fight, legs kicking, elbows shoving, but it was no use.

"Keep fighting, doll. You’re just making this more fun."

He pressed his mouth against your neck, kissing and biting down just enough to make you moan for him. It only made you angrier and more desperate to get away, but he held on to keep you exactly where he wanted.

"Why are you doing this?" You hissed, still struggling, but your strength was fading. "What do you want from me?"

"What do I want?" He loosened his hold just enough to spin you around to face him again, one hand keeping you close, the other tilting up your chin softly. "Shit, maybe I just like the way how sexy you look when you’re all riled up and pissed."

Adrenaline was still rushing through you, but now it was also confusion—and a feeling you could hardly even name. But you knew better. You just didn't want to acknowledge it.

And as Negan finally let go of you, letting you step back, neither of you spoke. You couldn't look at him as he took his sweet time reaching for his clothes across the floor. He didn’t seem the slightest bit worried by your outburst, your fury, or any of it. He just slid on his pants, putting on his shirt, and the leather jacket slung over one shoulder as he walked back to you.

And he stopped right in front of you, tilting his head with a smirk that now seemed almost cruel like he knew exactly what you were going through.

"You see, there’s a certain fine line, baby," he whispered, his voice sounding like gravel against silk. He leaned in close, his breath touching your ear. "Between everything we thought we hated… and everything we can’t seem to stop craving."

Then, just as casually as he’d fucked you, he moved his lips to yours, teasing you with a kiss and watching your reaction closely before pulling back, letting you stand there while he grabbed Lucille from the ground.

Negan wasn't looking back at you as he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts—and the fine line he’d just cut straight through you.

219 notes · View notes

jensengirl83 · 1 month ago

Text

Wounding Words

Dean x reader

Warnings- ANGST, some fluff

Word Count-2713

Summary- Y/N gets hurt on a hunt. Dean gets angry that he almost lost her, and takes his anger out on her and pushes her away. Will he come to his senses before it's too late?

A/N- This has been on my Patreon for a few weeks. So, it's time to bring it to y'all. This is just one of a few stories on my Patreon right now. You can join my Patreon here

Y/N watched as Dean paced around the war room. It had been a rough hunt, and he was seething. She had seen him mad before, but this was different. He seemed like he wanted to burn the whole world down with his anger, and that was a little scary. Especially, since his anger seemed to be directed towards her as well.

She and Dean had been a couple for almost a year. It had taken them a long time to get to where they were. Y/N with her insecurities, and Dean with his self-loathing, had kept them from giving in to their feelings for years. She didn’t think he would want her with her love handles and thicker thighs, and he was afraid that if he gave in to his feelings, something bad would happen to her. And Y/N was almost positive that he was so angry because he and Sam nearly lost her on their hunt.

They had been hunting a vamp's nest. They had gotten down to the last few when Y/N saw one sneaking up behind Dean. After beheading the one in front of her, she ran to try and behead the one behind Dean before it could reach him. It was all working out just fine, until she stepped on a creaky floorboard, alerting the vamp that she was on the move. Before anyone could react, it was on her, teeth in her throat. Sam had made it her and threw it back for Dean to decapitate. But, not before the damage was done. As she lay bleeding out on the floor, Dean holding his hand to her neck, she could feel her body giving out. She was saying her goodbyes to Dean, but luckily, Sam had the wits about him to pray to Cas, who showed up just in time to heal her. Dean hadn’t acted right since, which led them to where they were now. Which was him pacing in front of her, the rage rolling off of him, as Sam tried to talk to him.

“Dean,” Sam tried to speak, but his brother cut him off as soon as his name left his mouth.

“No, Sam. Don’t try to tell me that it’s fine now. Everything is so damn far from fine,” he roared, slamming his fist down on the war room table, making Y/N and Sam flinch.

“Dude, she’s alive. Cas healed her. It could’ve been so much worse. Be thankful that we didn’t lose her.”

“Dean,” Y/N spoke softly as she approached him, “I’m okay. I know you were scared. I was too, but I’m here. Let’s just move on from today, okay?”

“Move on? You want me to just ignore that you were stupid and almost got yourself killed,” he yelled, flinging her hand from his arm as she touched him.

“Dean!,” Sam chastised his brother. He knew he was scared and going to say things he didn’t mean, and he wanted to prevent this from getting any worse.

“It’s the truth,” he growled, deflecting Y/N’s touch once again. But he was looking at his brother and didn’t see the pure agony she was in hearing his words, “She was reckless and almost died! You just want to act like it never happened?”

“Dean, please, I don’t want to fight with you,” she muttered meekly, barely holding in the tidal wave of tears that wanted to escape.

“Well, you should’ve thought about that, huh?” he said sarcastically, driving the hurt deeper into her heart.

“I’m sorry. I saw the vamp coming after you, and I couldn’t just stand there and watch it kill you!”

“Oh, so you didn’t want to watch me die, but I had to stand there and watch you bleed out? The hypocrisy with you is astounding. Just leave me alone,” he huffed.

“Please,” she tried, pleading with him one more time, wrapping her arms around his middle, “Let me fix it. I don’t want this to linger between us.”

“You can’t fix it! I watched you bleeding to death in my arms! If Cas hadn’t shown up, I’d be burning your corpse right about now! And you think a hug is going to fix it?” He screamed, throwing her arms away from him, “That’s another thing. I don’t always need you to try and fix everything. I’m not a damn child! You know what, I can’t do this. I’m going out. Don’t wait up.”

Y/N stood there heartbroken as she watched him stomp up the stairs and out the door. In all the years she’d known him, he’d never talked to her that way. Her body was frozen as Sam ran after his brother, the slamming of the bunker door brought her out of her stupor. Against her will, the tears began to flow down her face, her heart shattering in her chest. She ran for her room, grabbing her duffle and throwing her things in it haphazardly. She had to get out of there. She couldn’t be there to see the disdain on Dean’s face when he came back. What she didn’t know, was Dean had never made it to the impala. Sam had reached him before he could get away.

“What the hell is wrong with you, man? I know it was terrifying thinking that she was going to die, but don’t you think you should be hugging her a little tighter than usual instead of pushing her away?” Sam exclaimed as he grabbed Dean’s arm, spinning him around to look at him.

“Look, I don’t need a lecture from you. Pushing her away is what I have to do!”

“What are you talking about? You love that girl, and you can deny it all you want, but I can see it, Dean. So, explain to me why you’re trying to shove her out the door?” Sam asked, thoroughly confused by his brother’s actions.

“Because! Loving her is only going to get her killed! Tonight proved that. She almost died trying to save my sorry ass. I’d rather her be gone than watching her burn on a pyre one day. I can’t do it,” Dean shouted, his voice breaking with the emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

“You really are a dumbass. Y/N did what any other hunter would’ve done in that situation. You need to get your ass back in there and apologize before you lose one of the few good things you have.”

“I can't, Sammy. No matter how I feel about her, I’m poison. I break everything I touch, and despite how much I love her, I refuse to be the reason she gets killed. She deserves so much more than me, or what little I can give her. She probably doesn’t even feel the same way about me, anyway. So, I need to end it now, before it’s too late for her to get out and find someone she deserves.”

“You know that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say that you love a woman out loud? And you’re going to let that slip away all because you don’t think you’re good enough? You’re the stupid one, dude. Y/N loves you too, you idiot! Everyone can see it but you, apparently. You were too busy throwing your little hissy fit in there to notice how you ripped her heart out and stomped on it. She was broken when you turned around and walked away. Someone doesn’t get that look on their face unless someone they love hurts them. And, man, you hurt her bad. But, if you want to walk away from that, go ahead, but you’ll live to regret it. You know what they say, you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”

Sam turned and walked away, leaving Dean there in a stupor. He hadn’t thought about watching her expressions as he went on his tirade. He was scared and trying to push her away. His only train of thought was getting her to leave so she could find someone better. As he stood there, trying to think of what to do, what Sam said kept playing on a loop in his head.

“You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”

As he stood there with that repeating in his head, he had to face the truth. Could he really watch her leave? Could he live the rest of his life without her, not knowing where she was or who she was with? That’s when he realized he didn’t really want to lose her, he’d let his fear overrule his heart, and he knew then he needed to try and fix it. His legs were moving before he knew what had happened, leading him straight to her door. He could hear her crying as he approached and it broke his heart. He did this to her. He made her cry, breaking her heart with his cruel words, and he hated himself for it. He knocked on her door before his self-hatred and guilt made him walk away.

“I don’t want to talk right now, Sam,” her voice carried through the door, making him feel even more guilty. She sounded so broken and dejected, and it was all his fault.

“It’s me,” he spoke softly, trying to let his voice convey how sorry he felt, as he waited for her reply, but there was nothing. He knocked again. Silence.

“Sweetheart, I just want to talk.”

“I think you said enough, don’t you?” she answered, trying to sound stern, but he knew her well enough to hear the apprehension in her tone.

“Please,” he almost begged, wanting to fix this. But just more silence.

He laid his head against her door, her silence speaking volumes. She was done, and it was his fault. He took a deep breath before speaking to her one last time.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I was scared. Watching you dying was more than I could take. I wanted to make you leave, so you could find someone you deserved, someone you could be with that didn’t risk your life every day. Honestly, I deserve to lose you. Like I told, Sam, I break everything I touch, and I broke you with my words. And when I said I didn’t need you to fix me, I lied. I need you, sweetheart. I need you like the air I breathe. Y/N, I’m so sorry. I can never take those words back, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but can you please forgive me?” he pleaded, whispering the last three words, “I love you.”

He stood at her door waiting to see if she would open the door, but nothing. Complete silence. He’d done it. He had broken her heart and hurt her beyond repair. With a sigh, he placed his hand on her door, trying to commit her to memory.

Y/N was on the other side, listening to what he had to say. Her head told her to make him leave, but her heart told her to open the door and let him apologize. She heard a pitiful sound come from the other side of the door, and that made up her mind. She flung the door open to see him standing there, tears falling down his face.

“D-Did I break us?” he managed to choke out through his sobs.

“Do you mean it?” she asked, her red-rimmed eyes boring into his.

“Yes! I’m so sorry, Y/N. I don’t deserve you, but if you’ll have me, you’re all I could ever want. I let the fear of losing you get to me, and I know I can’t take back what I said, but I’ll try to make it up to you every day for the rest of my life if you’ll let me,” he rambled through his tears.

“No, not that. The last thing you said.”

“That I want you to forgive me? Of course, I meant it!”

“That’s not the last thing you said, Dean.”

“I’m lost, sweetheart. That’s the last thing I remember saying.”

“Never mind. You obviously didn’t mean it if you don’t even remember saying it,” she sighed, stepping back to shut the door, when it hit him what she was talking about. He grabbed the door before she closed it on him.

“Yes, I meant it. I love you. I love you so much that it terrifies me. That’s why I lost my mind when you almost died. The thought of losing you made me sick with grief. And I know I tried pushing you away, so me saying that doesn’t make much sense, but after I thought about living the rest of my life without you in it, I realized I can’t. I can’t live not knowing where you are, or if you’re okay. I need you, sweetheart. I need you to be there with that beautiful smile when I walk into the kitchen every morning. I need you to give me hugs like you do when I’m having a bad day, and most of all, I need you to fix me when I get so broken that I don’t even know how to begin to fix myself. I love you, Y/N. And I want to spend the rest of my days proving that to you if you can forgive me,” he sniffled, reaching to cup her face in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs as they streamed down her cheeks.

“I forgive you,” she whispered, placing her hand on his cheek, him leaning into her touch, “I never wanted to leave you.”

Hearing that she forgave him, made his heart swell. He smiled, leaning in to kiss her. He tried to pour everything he felt into the kiss. How guilty he felt, how sorry he was, and most importantly, how much he loved her. The kiss was soft but passionate. One of those kisses that don’t lead to anything sexual, but still toe-curling. Once they had to part to take a breath, he couldn’t contain his smile. She really forgave him.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he repeated the sentiment, realizing how good it felt to say it to her.

“I love you, too, Dean. I have for a long time,” she admitted, her declaration making his breath hitch.

“Really? You love me, too?” he whispered in astonishment. Even though Sam had told him that she loved him, he didn’t truly believe it. He never thought he would be worthy of love from someone as good as her.

“Don’t be so shocked, babe. Contrary to what you believe, you’re a good man, Dean Winchester, and I’m a lucky woman to get the chance to love you,” she stood on her toes, kissing him softly, “You just have to start believing it yourself.”

“Did I tell you I love you?” he chuckled, her words meaning more to him than she’d ever understand.

“I think it’s been said once or twice,” she laughed, him joining her. She loved to hear him laugh. It was music to her ears.

“Just once or twice?! Well, I think we need to fix that, don’t you?” he beamed, cupping her face once again to kiss her.

“I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you,” he said, kissing her between every declaration.

“Dean Winchester, one might think you’re secretly a hopeless romantic,” she cackled, joy filling her to hear him say he loved her.

“Only for you, sweetheart. I’ve never felt this way about anyone else.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Dean. I know you’ve loved other women,” she sighed, not really liking to think about Cassie and Lisa.

“I’m not lying. I have loved two other women, but sweetheart, it’s nothing like what I feel for you. I mean it. What I felt for them doesn’t hold a candle to the love I have for you.”

“I love you,” she said in awe, seeing in his eyes he was serious, “More than I can ever describe.”

“Well, that’s good. ‘Cause if I have my way, you’re stuck with me for a very long time.”

“That sounds perfect,” she giggled, pulling him down to her for another kiss.