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#dean winchester dirty imagine
propertyofyoutube · 1 month
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WARNING: MATURE CONTENT
I thought it was about time I made things a little easier for you all🥺
If you’re new to my blog, hi! Welcome to the safest place on the internet for you to relax and explore your deepest darkest desires😏
Disclaimer: please don’t steal my work, because I have a very particular set of skills and I’m not afraid to use them☺️
Current total works: 18
~🖤~
Colby Brock
I thought we were ghost hunting? - EXPLICIT
Couldn’t resist a bad boy - EXPLICIT
I want to tell the world - EXPLICIT
You’re this close to cracking - EXPLICIT
You really think I’d ever let anyone say anything bad about you? - EXPLICIT
Cooking and dancing - FLUFF
Sam Golbach
More than friends - EXPLICIT
You’re being bailed out by Sam - EXPLICIT
Fuck, I’ve missed you so much - EXPLICIT
Kidnapping Prank - EXPLICIT
Anything for you Mrs Golbach - EXPLICIT
Are you happy now? - EXPLICIT
A time of the month accident - FLUFF
Sam & Colby
Tap once for no, twice for yes - EXPLICIT
You could choose both - FLUFF
Let it go, baby - EXPLICIT
Wattpad Novels
Our Time Is Now || Sam, Colby and friends Fanfiction
The Winchesters || Sam, Dean and Castiel Fanfiction
REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN!
~🖤~
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« One has a fever every week, these two took me for an employment center, and that other idiot can't hunt for himself anymore. » she heard him whine about everyone in the adjacent room, then sank back into the silence of his reading.
He had always been tremendously short-tempered, and although this was one of his annoying flaws, it was a symptom of good health; since he had lost his legs, however, few things made him react, he just mumbled a little more than usual. 
Dean, with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans and his mouth watering, joined the slayer in the kitchen in search of something to eat. He saw her set four plates in a row, place the knife with the tip in the center of the cake and make a few movements to calculate the size of the slices, taking care to make them the same size.
« That one is bigger, Psycho. » the voice startled her from behind as she carefully scrutinized her delusions of perfectionism.
« That one is Bobby's, you idiot. And it's absolutely by chance that the others are the same. » she tried to defend herself, knowing what he was getting at.
« You mean that doesn't bother you? » he provoked her with a mocking smile.
With a fork he made a few cuts on the cake, making it impossible to make more slices in their canonical shape. 
« You're always a jerk. »
« You are always a stunner. »
Lachelle replied with a smile at his wink.
« It's not like you told anyone, » she whispered, bringing a plate closer to him.
« Not even to my brother. He keeps saying I'm not in your league. » he replied on the same frequency, gladly accepting the slice of cake.
« Well, he's right. How's he about that demon blood thing? » she asked and to the frown she added, « Do you think Bobby only has a big mouth when it comes to me? By the way, what is he doing? » she asked, then faced the sliding door that separated the kitchen from the living room without being noticed.
Fourth chapter here:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/50832031/chapters/143456206
Thank for read <3
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quietwingsinthesky · 1 year
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the song remains the same au where Anna lives somehow, Michael didn’t finish the job or something, and it’s Dean being told he gets no choice, nothing but his destiny as Michael’s vessel, and he’s back where he was in Heaven and Hell with both Anna and Sam under threat, but god, this time he’s saving both of them, he has to. Pushed further towards saying yes not just because of his own failing faith that they can stop the Apocalypse, but because in that moment, he promises he will, if Michael will send Anna back with them. Reasons that she doesn’t belong there any more than him and Sam do, and maybe she’s been hurt so badly that she’s been knocked back down to practically human.
But the point is that Anna lives, and she tried to kill Dean’s parents, and failed, but at the same time, he gets it. He just tried to convince his own mom not to have him or Sam, and it all got erased. They are more like pawns than they ever have been, but they could still try to find something in each other. Some bit of lost tenderness. It’s the end of the world. Any night could be the last night.
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— BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS
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SUMMARY : sharing a room with sam when dean has the sex drive that he has usually means he has to be quiet when he’s doing the dirty with his girl.
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : sam winchester
WARNINGS : smut, nsfw (18+), fluff, alcohol, sub!dean, exhibitionism tbh, ✨saliva✨
WORD COUNT : 2.9k
A/N : title from green day’s song. I believe in subby dean and I love him! so, here’s the first dean fic I wanna share. I really appreciate y’all :’) Xx
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Dean grunted softly as he moved his hand up and down his cock. He smirked beside him at his sleeping girlfriend, and then looked ahead at the silhouette of his hand beneath the sheets moving up and down, outlined by the street light shining through the thin curtains. The sound of the sheets ruffling was loud in the nighttime, almost muffling the sound of his cock, and he carefully shoved the sheets off himself while keeping Y/N blanketed.
He closed his eyes, bit his lip and started to picture Y/N sucking his dick. He pictured her awake comfortably naked between his legs with her hot mouth wrapped around him. It was more exciting knowing that she was sleeping next to him, that he was imagining her pleasuring him the way he knew she could if she were awake. He was so turned on, but he was mostly teasing himself, being quiet enough that Sam wouldn’t wake up, but loud enough so that Y/N would.
Sam had gotten drunk with Dean, but unlike Dean, he blacked out as soon as his overgrown body hit the bed. That meant nothing was waking Sam up anytime soon, not a monster, not an apocalypse, not even the way Dean panted trying to get himself off. He didn’t mind edging himself a bit longer, he was willing to wait as long as he had to before she woke up and gave him what he needed. And he needed her real bad, so he wasn’t gonna stop, but he wasn’t gonna let himself finish either.
After the hunt, a successful case of killing a pack of werewolves in the woods, Dean decided to take Y/N and Sam out for drinks. The thing was, when Dean got drunk, he became more clingy than usual and he would start acting cute. He remembered bits and pieces of what he did when he was drunk. From getting her into his lap while he talked to Sam and some random hunter in a green, leathery booth. To the way he clung to her the whole time, when he’d drunkenly gone and played pool with a bunch of idiot college students trying and successfully hustling them.
He remembered constantly kissing her cheek, holding her soft face in his hands to make out with her when he dragged her around the bar finding different things to do with himself. And he remembered flirting with her. He remembered that cute little smile on her face and the even more adorable blush that painted her cheeks when he gave her his famous smoulder.
He remembered that she’d stopped drinking after just one drink. She was taking care of him and Sam. She’d driven them back to the motel and she babied him into bed despite the fact that he was trying to seduce her. He blushed at the memory, the way he kissed her neck and groped her beautiful body, making it hard for her to take his clothes off so he could sleep comfortably.
He moaned softly at a particular twist around his cock, and he changed his fantasy, preferring to imagine all the dirty things Y/N would say to him as she fucked him. He could faintly remember how her walls felt around him, her sweaty body pressed against his, setting his skin on fire with her touch. Her name fell from his lips, spilled into the quiet room, and she shifted beside him at last. He whispered her name again and again, praying that she would wake up and make him cum herself.
He slowed the pace in which he jerked himself off when she nuzzled into his bicep, her soft lips still against his tense muscle. She mumbled something against his skin, but could only hear the sleep in her voice and was unable to decipher a word she said. He gazed down at her and squinted his eyes to make out her face, but he couldn’t see much as she was shadowed by his body. He only felt her hand move down his chest, warm and soft against his body. He gasped, squirmed when she brushed her fingertips against his tummy, and squeezed his eyes shut when she wrapped her small hand over his.
“You’re so loud,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
“Y/N,” he moaned, letting her fingers replace his. She stroked him lazily, felt her little smirk against his arm when he moved his hips up in search of more friction. “Please,” he whined quietly. He turned his whole body to face her so she changed her hand’s position, squeezing his cock torturously and rubbing her thumb over the leaking slit of his cockhead. “I can’t,” he gasped, pressing his forehead against hers.
She let go of his cock and pressed her lips firmly against his, “I’ve got you, baby,” she murmured against his mouth. His fingers dug into her waist, pulling her closer to him. “What do you want? Tell me, Dean,” she teased, moving her lips along his jaw and neck, thrilled to hear his heavy breaths.
“You,” he whispered, “I need you, need to be inside you right now,” he moaned. He pawed at her hips and started to tug her underwear down impatiently. She giggled, helped him get them off her, and laughed when he hung them over the lamp. He smiled softly at the sound and moved on top of her, settling between her opened legs before he leaned down to kiss her.
He slid his cock through her wet folds, felt her wiggle her hips, and gasp against his mouth when he pressed the head of his cock against her clit. “I thought you were too needy,” she whined playfully. He felt her pout against his lips and pulled away slightly attempting to make her face out in the darkness, only the yellow glow from outside illuminated her. He chuckled at her and grasped her hip, pinning her down to the mattress as he panted against her parted lips.
“You’re such a little tease,” he laughed softly, smirking at her when he sat back on his legs, lifting her legs onto his thighs.
He used the streetlight to guide his cock to her slick entrance, his plump lips parting with satisfaction at the sight of her glistening cunt stretching around his cockhead. He slid into her smoothly and he stared—utterly enchanted, as she took every inch of him until he was buried fully in her warmth.
“Like that?” He asked smugly and she rolled her eyes, her hands flexing on her thighs, squirming from how big he was. Dean smirked down at her when he noticed, swivelling his hips tortuously just to feel the clench of her walls around him. He collected saliva in his mouth and watched it drip down to her pussy, right on her folds.
He licked his lips to clear the lingering spit on his swollen lips and brought his thumb to her clit to smear his saliva over the sensitive nerve. He gently moved his hips against her, turned on at the sight of the black shirt she wore haphazardly scrunched around her waist from the angle he had her positioned in.
He leaned over her, placed his arm by her head, and dropped loving kisses along her jaw. Her heavy breaths mingled with his, the only sound bouncing off the cheap walls besides the gentle sound of the bedsprings. He used various methods to massage her clit until she was squirming beneath him again. Her walls continued to pulse around him, wet, warm, and driving him crazy. “I’m not gonna last,” he whispered shyly against her shoulder.
She pushed up against him gently with her hips, her hands held onto his triceps, so he moved back a little to check on her. “Everything okay?” He asked softly, distractedly slowing down the circles on her clit to study her flushed face.
When she nodded, he kissed her forehead, and started to pull out slightly to thrust back into her again, but he didn’t expect her to shove him back slightly, forcing his cock to slip out of her all the way.
He looked at her with confusion, “wha-“
He caught himself with his arms behind him, stared at her as his shirt she wore slipped down and covered her naked body again. She climbed onto his lap again, “you’re so pretty,” she murmured. Holding his chin with her fingers, she swiped her thumb across his bottom lip and his breath hitched. His cheeks started to warm up at the tingling that followed her finger along his lip and he whined again. “Shh, stop being so loud,” she told him quietly, and leaned forward to silence him with a heated kiss.
He slid his hands between her legs, shoving two fingers into her without a care, pumping them in and out, moaning into her mouth at the squelch his fingers and her cunt made around him. She sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned, grinding his palm against her clit and adding a third finger, feeling like he could cum just from the wetness that started to cover his knuckles and wrist.
“I love it when you get needy,” she panted, moving his hand away by grabbing his wrist. She lifted his wet fingers to her lips and licked her arousal off them, keeping her eyes on his as his lips parted in surprise. “Are you gonna cum?” She teased, placing his hands on her hips under the shirt she wore.
“Stop teasing me,” he whispered, swallowing some saliva to moisten his dry throat. She laughed quietly and he bit his lip, becoming flustered with her confidence. “Please,” he begged softly, lowering her hips to press against his so her wet pussy could brush against his throbbing cock.
She let out a faint hum, letting him fuck himself with both amusement and fascination. He closed his eyes despite wanting to feel demeaned by the look on her face and got lost in the tiny fragments of pleasure he was feeling. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, focusing on teasing her soaked entrance with the soft head of his cock until she gave in and shifted to let him slip inside her.
“Fuck… yes,” he moaned, gripping her hips tightly as her warmth and her slick coated his cock. She ground her hips against his, squeezing his cock until he whined and bucked his hips up into her. “Fuck, don’t do that,” he hissed.
She chuckled mischievously, then shushed him as she slowly rolled her hips against his, his mouth parting. A broken moan left his lips, but it was immediately muffled by him when he bit her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. He thrusted his hips upwards, slowly moving in and out of her until she was pushing him onto his back and riding him.
He screwed his eyes shut, biting his lip so hard he thought he’d taste his blood soon. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, bruising her soft skin with his desperate touch. His eyes fluttered open to watch her lift herself up and down with her lips parted and swollen. He felt like cumming just at the sight of her and she must have expected a loud moan to fall from his now open mouth because she put her hand over it just as a groan rumbled in his chest, deep and hot.
Her walls spasmed around him, a quiet curse falling from her lips. She looked over at Sam cautiously, picking up the pace and keeping her hand over his mouth. He felt even more turned on, noting the way she shifted her hips to add friction to her clit. He whined against her hand, desperately meeting her thrusts as the bed springs started to squeak louder.
He didn’t even care if Sam woke up anymore, he tugged her hips forward, wanting her full attention on him. He felt his cock swell and twitch inside her, so close to spilling hot inside her. She was driving him crazy, especially with the way her walls squeezed his cock so tight as if it would shut her up.
It drove him over the edge and he came inside her almost involuntarily. Another moan from him heated her palm. She gasped from the unexpectedness of it, leaning over him, her soft hair tickling his skin. She moaned loudly into the bed, pressed her face into the sheets by his head as she trembled and came on his cock. Her warm walls quivered and dripped around him, her hips moving on his cock slower as she rode out her orgasm, his sweaty skin sticking to hers.
She turned her face slightly, her warm breath tickling his ear. He lifted his hand up to move her hair behind her ear and she removed her hand from his mouth, resting it over his thumping heart. They both laid there for a few moments, unmoving, panting in an attempt to catch their breaths and clear their hazy minds. He lovingly pressed kisses along her cheek, temple, and the tip of her ear, rubbing his hand up and down her sides under her shirt.
“That was so hot,” he said after a while, sounding breathless and hoarse. She laughed tiredly and she started to lift the top of her body off him, only to lean forward and kiss him deeply. He was smiling, his mouth readily open for her. His tongue slipped into her minty mouth, soft tongues rolling over each other languidly.
Both of them smiled into the kiss and he wrapped his arm around her waist, moving her onto her back and slipping out of her, careless about the mess he was making between their bodies. She hummed softly against his mouth, a little laugh making her part from his lips. He continued to admire her, fixing her sex hair as best as he could before he dropped a kiss on her forehead, trailing his lips down to her warm cheeks and neck.
“We have a long drive tomorrow, D,” she murmured, her nails gently scratching his scalp, “you should sleep now, I’ll take care of the mess.” He moaned quietly, agreeing with her, pressing his face into her neck and kissed the spot his lips were closest to.
“Mkay,” he mumbled, moving up off her. He looked around for his boxers and felt the bed shift as she made her way to the restroom to clean herself up. He grabbed her underwear off the lamp and grabbed his phone, using the lowest light level to check if they’d stained the sheets.
Despite having told him she’d take care of it, he didn’t listen. He shoved the clean sheets away, feeling both shy and prideful at the mess, and pulled the dirty covers off to hide them as best as he could and replaced them as quickly as he could with clean ones he always made sure to ask for beforehand when they got a room.
He moved out of bed when he was done, waddling to the bathroom with her underwear in his hand. He smiled fondly when he found her washing her hands with the water hardly turned on so it wouldn’t be loud and wake Sam up.
“Your underthings,” he said with a grin, holding them up for her. She turned to look at him and chuckled, drying her hands with a towel to take her underwear from him. “Allow me, my love,” he said dramatically, stopping her from taking them. She gave him a look but played along.
He squatted down in front of her and lifted her leg with his hand around her ankle. She held onto his shoulder for balance, allowing him to help her into her underwear with an amused and affectionate smile on her face that glowed in her eyes.
“Thanks, Dean,” she murmured. She pecked his lips when he stood back up to her face, after having pulled the soft cotton up her legs and comfortably in place around her hips. He squeezed her ass playfully, drawing a laugh from her.
She followed him with her eyes when he moved towards the sink to wash his hands with soap and warm water. She waited for him patiently, leaning against the doorway and playing with the hem of the black t-shirt. She admired him this time, took in the messy and soft spikes of his hair, his teeth pulling at his plump lip. He was gorgeous and he looked over at her, his eyes warm and loving as he took her in too.
“Let’s go to bed, my little flower.” Dean dried his hands with the same towel she used and reached out for her hand, seeing her roll her eyes and snort at the new pet-name he was trying out for her. “You know you like all the names I give you,” he smirked down at her, turning the lights off after her to make their way back to bed.
“I do,” she admitted after a while, biting her lip to stop her happy smile. He could see her thanks to the bright lights outside and the drawn curtains. A delightful feeling filled his stomach and made him feel warm all over. He took her face in his hands, giving her the type of kiss people would give each other if they were saying hello after missing each other their whole lives.
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bunnysbrainrot · 1 year
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Guessing Game
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Kinktober Prompt: Oral
Relationship: Sam Winchester/Reader/Dean Winchester (no Wincest, ew)
Content: EXPLICIT (18+ only), oral (f and m receiving), A LOT of degradation, praise, pussy slapping, p in v, DP, creampie (recreate responsibly), this is filthy so please be advised, ‘bitch’ is used in the dirty talk.
Summary: Can your body tell the difference between the brothers? If you’re correct, you’ll be rewarded. If not, well…
A/N: Writing this had me completely soaked i’m not gonna lie. ANYWAY HAVE FUN.
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Darkness shrouds your vision under the blindfold, having been tied around your head by Dean moments before you were carefully stripped down, layer by layer, until you lay completely bare on his bed. He gives off hardly any sound to gauge your surroundings, as if a predator animal circling its prey.
Goosebumps run along your arms as cold air brushes by, but the presence stirring this air is different than Dean. You freeze where you lay, closing your legs and covering your aching tits with your shivering arms.
Despite your uncertainty, your exposed core is molten while you wait for Dean’s voice to ring out. Your body is rigid once more when someone else speaks.
“We’re gonna play a game.”
Sam’s voice is low and clear, and now he’s seen you stark naked, sprawling open on his brother’s bed, waiting for your boyfriend to please you. You reeled silently over where and when he could’ve made his way into the room. Had he been here the whole time, watching everything?
Familiar hands slide over your shielding arms and coax them apart, letting cool air kiss your pebbled nipples.
Dean whispers, “It’s okay, baby girl, you’re safe with Sammy. He ain’t gonna hurt you.”
Your head snaps to his voice, about to protest, but Dean’s mouth finds yours in earnest, groaning into your slacked mouth. You swallow his sounds nonetheless, hearing Sam’s voice echo around the room once again.
“Dean, want to explain what’s going on?”
Your boyfriend hums against your lips before he breaks away, mumbling against your cheek.
He mutters, “Poor Sammy’s been pretty lonely lately-“
You can sense Sam’s scowling, “No, I haven’t-“
“So I invited him to play, too.” Dean’s lips work across your slacked jaw, trailing up to the tender spot below your ear, making you squirm into his lean form.
The warmth and softness tells you that he did away with his own clothes, and all you could imagine was if Sam did the same.
“A… game?” you whisper.
A new hand wanders to your calf, radiating a deep warmth into your skin. It’s bigger than Dean’s, so you instantly know it’s Sam at your lower end.
Sam’s voice is closer to where you lay, you tense at his words, “Just one rule: guess who’s who.”
“Mhm,” Dean hums against your collarbone now, skirting his lips downward, “y’gotta guess if it’s me or Sammy makin’ you feel good, sweetheart.”
One of the brothers slides a hand to your chest, palming your tits with eagerly, since Dean was near your chest when he kissed you, surely it was him.
You nip at your bottom lip, stifling a moan as two fingers roll your nipple. “Dean.”
“Nope,” says Sam, landing a sharp slap on your tit, striking your perk nipple. You release your lower lip with a cry, panting softly at the twinge of pain.
“Wasn’t me, baby,” Dean mutters, right below your belly button, ever lowering himself, “if you get it wrong, you get punished. If you get it right, you get a reward.”
You nod dumbly at the instructions. The hand on your tits brushes your cheek, then travels between the valley of your breasts, and vanishes. The only sensation on your body is a pair of lips traveling toward your thighs, and what lies between them.
“Now, let’s see what we’ve got here,” says Dean, his voice sounds from between your thighs, closing in on your dripping slit.
Somehow, the mystery of this, and Sam’s surprising involvement sends fire roiling through your gut, and straight to your needy pussy. You shift your thighs together and clench your cunt onto nothing.
Dean’s fingers spread your slick folds, gently prying your thighs apart with a free hand. You relax your legs and flex your hips wide, baring yourself to him, and giving him free reign over the sight before him.
A low whistle sounds above your tummy, “Fuck, that’s a pretty pussy, Dean. Every night?”
“Just about,” Dean replies. Their voices mix too closely to differentiate who is who, sending you into a tizzy. “But that pussy’s mine whenever I want it.”
Sam comments, “Lucky guy. If I had a girl with a pussy like this, I’d be using it every night.”
Two fingers dip between your folds, using your slick to easily slide past your entrance, and curling perfectly inside. You gasp, giving your answer with a shaky exhale.
“Dean. It’s Dean.”
He purrs, “Attagirl - you’d know my fingers anywhere, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” Dean pumps his fingers one, two, three times before he removes them.
You whine at the empty feeling, rolling your hips to search for something, anything, to gain pressure from. Your clit throbs between your slick folds, aching with need.
A pair of hands pries your thighs open, holding you securely before a tongue slides into your slit. You release a soft moan and buck your hips onto the warmth. It’s familiar, but the hands aren’t the same.
“Dean?” you ask waveringly. A low hum sounds against your clit, sending the tremors through the aching bud.
Sam’s voice sounds from above Dean’s head, “Smart girl. I’m just holding you open for him, honey.”
You smile at your success, still letting yourself relish in the sensations flooding through your clit, happily lapped at by Dean. He swirls his tongue around your pearl, taking it between his teeth to make you hitch a breath. Dean smiles wickedly against your pussy.
“Okay, sweetheart,” Dean announces, breaking away from your sex. A moment passes before you hear him again. “Guess who.”
His voice is still near your thighs. You aren’t spread open again, but a tongue dips between your folds and finds your clit, teasing and light. It feels like Dean, with its soft lapping and swirling motions, mixed with thick stripes from your throbbing hole to your hardening clit.
A light pinch on your thigh instructs you to answer, “Dean.”
The mouth breaks away and is replaced with a harsh slap, directly on your clit. You cry out, loudly.
“Wrong,” growls Sam. His thumb runs a circle around your clit, pressing harshly enough to make you cry out. The mix of pain and pleasure is overwhelming enough to make you cry. Tears prick the back of your eyes, welling over and slipping past your cheeks, dampening the blindfold.
Dean’s voice startles you next to your ear. His thumb swipes along your cheekbone, collecting remnants of your tears.
“Aww, don’t cry, pretty girl,” he coos, “did Sammy hurt you?” The touches on your clit soften up. Sam’s fingers brush around further, wet with a new slickness, and he hums happily.
“I dunno, Dean. Little slut’s still getting wet,” Sam protests, dipping a finger past your tight entrance. Dean’s smile is palpable, and a new wickedness fills his tone.
His mouth brushes your ear, “You like that, baby? Y’like it when he slaps your little pussy? Never knew you were such a slut for the pain, sweetheart.”
“Whore for it, more like. Fuck. Practically dripping for me,” Sam’s fingers delve further and curl, longer than Dean’s and striking deeper than you’d ever felt. Your back arches with the motions, followed by soft, whimpering moans as Sam pumps his fingers through your fluttering walls.
Dean’s mouth finds your nipple, licking and biting with fervor. A free hand travels to the other and twists roughly, making you gasp, though another rush of heat heads to your pussy, clenching down on Sam’s fingers.
He hisses through gritted teeth, “Jesus, she’s tight.”
Humming sounds around your toyed nipple, “Mhm.” Dean’s words brush over your skin, “Perfect lil’ pussy, all for me.”
“Willing to share?” Sam asks, picking up his pace inside of you, dragging his fingers along your g-spot with each movement.
Dean snaps, “Don’t press your luck.”
Possessive bastard, you think, but moan sharply.
Sam’s tongue finds your clit once again, suckling at the small nub while his fingers stay busy. The combination unravels you quickly and your orgasm chases you in a matter of seconds.
Your walls clench around his fingers, and Sam mutters something under his breath. Dean slaps your tit this time.
“Can’t cum without permission, sweetheart,” he says. When you’re together it’s his rule that you always have his say-so, apparently it’s no different here.
You start to protest, but he stops you, “If you’re cumming at all, it’s with my permission, do you understand me?”
Sam nips at your clit to make you answer, “Y-yes, sir.”
You can feel Sam smiling on your pussy. He mumbles, “You trained her well, Dean.”
Dean pulls away from your chest, and his voice travels toward where Sam lies between your thighs. You assume it’s Dean slapping your upper thigh, close to where Sam’s head rests atop your cunt.
“Perfectly trained little bitch.”
Your orgasm is trailing behind, you gasp out, “Can I cum, sir?”
A beat passes.
“Cum.”
In an instant, you do. Your release blasts like a firework behind your eyes as you clench around Sam’s fingers, mewling softly while he pumps you through the shockwaves. Sam pulls himself from you, and you hear him shift to stand with his brother.
Dean pats your thigh, “Beautiful, isn’t she, Sammy?”
A low growl rumbles from Sam’s throat, “I want her, Dean. I want to feel her.”
The back-and-forth electrifies your nerves. You were Dean’s, but now that Sam was seemingly fighting him over you, there was no way of knowing what would be next.
“Not today, Sam.”
Not today?
Sam grunts in frustration, but concedes. You can hear him trek over to the head of the bed, close enough that you can feel a radiating heat from his, apparently, nude form. The bed dips just next to your head. You crane your neck toward him and are met with a warm, thick cock against your cheek.
You lay perfectly still, waiting.
Dean’s voice breaks the silence, “Order her, Sam. Poor thing gets too cock drunk to think. Tell her what to do.”
“Open,” Sam commands, lightly smacking your jaw. You open wide, sticking out your tongue as Dean had conditioned you to. “Tongue out and everything. She really is well-trained.”
The head of Dean’s cock eases through your folds, making you gasp around the head of Sam’s length. His voice is proud and sinister.
“Like I said - perfect. Little. Bitch.”
His cock presses into your entrance, the first substantial filling of the night. You whine around Sam’s dick, eagerly swirling your warm tongue around it and collecting salty precum along the way.
“And the best part of owning this pussy, Sam… is that I get to fill it. As often as I want.”
Relief showers over you at the mention. The thought of your boyfriend’s thick, hot cum spilling inside of you made you shiver with anticipation, tightening around his cock.
Dean lets out a low whistle, “Wish you could feel how tight she got just now. Sweet girl just loves it when I stuff her full, doesn’t she?”
You nod, bobbing your head along Sam’s considerable length, hollowing your cheeks to give him the same level of suction you do to his brother. Fuck, he was missing out on so, so much.
“Perfect mouth,” Sam comments, “you really got lucky, Dean.” Your boyfriend chuckles as his cock pushes deeper, stretching you out to fit him until he plunges in full hilt.
Sam shoves himself inward when you cry out, stuffing your mouth entirely full with his cock. The head crashes against the back of your throat, making you gag harshly around him. He grips your hair with both hands for leverage. The pace is brutal, and you’re silently thankful that Dean isn’t this ferocious with his own blowjobs.
“Gentle on her mouth, Sammy,” Dean scolds, his big-brother tone invading his words, “gotta take it slow.”
“Nah,” he dismisses, “I bet she can handle it.” Sam angles his hips and turns your head, twisting you to accommodate his girth. His cock plunges deeper into your throat from this angle, but to your surprise you do not gag this time. The thrusts are harsh but mildly painless.
Sam’s breathing grows more ragged by the second, while Dean happily sinks into your hungry cunt, filling you out with every glorious inch of his length.
“Turn her over,” Sam demands. Dean stills inside of you for a split second before he moves again. His hands find your hips and twist them around. Sam removes himself from your mouth to grant you some fresh air.
With their help, you’re on all fours between the boys. Dean at your back, Sam in the front, both with their cocks twitching at the slightest touch. Dean gives Sam a shit-eating grin as he slams his cock into you. Hard.
Sam springs into action when your mouth opens again in a cry. Your mouth is stuffed with his cock like before, but this angle is even better. You’re laid flatter for a perfect throat-fucking.
“There we go,” Sam murmurs, “that’s much better. Relax your throat, sweetheart.”
Against the new strain on your throat, you do as you’re instructed. Sam pushes himself further until your face is pressed into his abdomen.
Completely, and impossibly, full.
Dean marvels at Sam’s depth in your mouth, and gapes at the sight below him where his cock meets your cunt, stretched taught around his girth. Each moan and groan serves as more encouragement for Dean to pick up the pace.
His cock crashes through your constricting walls, striking against your cervix when he plunges deeper, deeper, and deeper into your aching cunt. Dean groans when you tighten around him, closing in on another orgasm. A free hand smacks your ass hard enough to leave a bruise.
“Cum,” Dean orders.
This one is harsher than the last, leaving you screaming around Sam’s cock, muffled and gagged by the thick head of him.
“Attagirl. You want Sammy to cum, too? Want him to fill you up?”
As much as you can muster, you nod. Sam smiles toward Dean - a wicked grin that says That’s right, I’m gonna fill your girl up before you can.
Dean glowers at his brother and thrusts faster, scowling the entire time as he urges his own orgasm to chase after him. With his competitive streak and the way you wrapped around him, he wasn’t far behind.
“Fuuuck,” groans Dean, his cock twitching inside your ravaged cunt.
Sam lets out a gasp as he shudders inside your mouth. His hips falter and he releases deep in your throat. Tears fall past your cheeks as you struggle for air, but your eyes roll back at the salty, savory taste of his cum.
And Dean isn’t far behind. He remains resilient when his orgasm reaches him - the thrusts don’t waver or lessen, but are more insistent. A groan rumbles from him as he finishes. The familiar warmth of his thick cum floods through your pussy, making you clench around his cock, eager to savor every last drop, as always.
“That’s it, babygirl, keep it inside.”
You tighten even when he leaves you, now left hollow and achey. Dean nods to Sam to pull out to let you breathe. The younger brother thumbs your bottom lip as you gasp.
You swallow Sam’s cum fully and thankfully, smiling blindly at him.
Dean lands a smack on your ass in congratulation, watching you clench your cunt into nothing, keeping his seed deep inside of you.
“Greedy girl. Don’t wanna waste any of it, do you?”
You shake your head with a smile, proud that you served them both to their desires.
Maybe not for Sam, but that was a different matter.
Dean leans forward to grab your blindfold, swiftly untying it and tossing it to the side. You slump to your side while you let your eyes adjust to the new light. The boys gently massage into your joints to ease them back to normal, though they’d surely be sore for hours, if not a day or two.
“You okay, baby?” Dean asks.
You pant softly to settle yourself, and smile, completely sated. Your words slur unintelligibly.
Sam laughs, “Fucked dumb, huh?”
“Just how she likes it.”
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Happy Kinktober, you depraved lil’ things
3K notes · View notes
impalanna · 3 months
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Title: Foggy Windows Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Warnings: Mentions of violence, swearing, p in v, smut, dirty talk, SO MUCH SMUT, name calling, rough sex, Dean using you Summary: You and Dean go on a hunt together. You two don't even get to the location where the hunt is without having to pull over and, you know. Authors' notes: For @shadysoulangel :) This is based off of an imagine that I did (click here to access) I hope you guys enjoy! ;) Word Count: 2,837k
Dean rubbed his eyes, not ready to go out on this hunt but wanting to get out of the bunker for a little while. He was pent up, in every since of the word. You were asleep beside him, which made him look down at you and smile. He loved waking up before you did. It meant he could look at how peaceful you are, curled up beside him. He adored you.
You always knew when eyes were on you, even when you were sleeping. It always woke you up when someone was watching you. You stirred awake, meeting Dean's eyes. "You watching me sleep, perv?" You giggled at him, getting on your knees to lean up and kiss him gently. "What? You gonna watch me shower, too?" You asked him in the sexiest tone you could muster up.
"Damn right I might, sweetheart." He smirked at you, eyeing you in his old T-shirt and your underwear. He is so goddamn hot. You thought to yourself as you went into the bathroom and closed the door, taking off your clothes.
You slipped into the shower and began washing your body, the thoughts of how tense Dean seemed when he was hunting taking over your mind. You wanted to get him to relax, to breathe for just a minute, but he isn't going to listen to you if you ask him to take care of himself. So you had an idea. You would take care of him, in the only way he'd let you.
You knew it was summer and it was hot, so you could get away with wearing your shortest shorts without making it seem like you were trying to get his attention. You smiled to yourself as you moisturized and then went to your closet to pick out your top. You knew just the one. It was black, which was Dean's favorite color on you, with a low cut neck and it was cropped. Perfect for staying comfy and perfect for getting him to focus on how bad he knows he wants you.
You walk out of the bathroom, out of the bedroom, down the hallway and into the kitchen where Sam and Dean were eating their cereal and drinking their coffee. He saw you, and choked on his corn flakes. Sam gave him a confused puppy dog head tilt and then turned around to see you, then rolled his eyes. "Can you guys get a room?"
You smirked to yourself as you went to the cabinet to get a cup. There were cups already out, but you loved how cute they looked turned upside down beside the coffee maker so you never messed with them.
"Morning." Sam said in a yawn, his head in a daze due to the lack of sleep. "No breakfast?"
"You know I never eat breakfast, Sam." You said in a happy tone. You were telling the full truth when you said that.
"Oh yeah… guess I forgot." He said slowly again, watching you make your coffee to your liking. "Hey, we've got a hunt but I'm going to see a friend, you think we can take it on with Dean? It's about a day's drive from here."
"Sure, that's fine." You smiled at Sam, "Who's your friend?"
"Uh, no one, just, uh -"
"He's gonna go get laid." Dean cut him off. Sam shot a look to Dean that would kill if it could. "What? She's no prude." Dean said in defense of himself.
"Oh hell yeah, Sam! You go! We'll take this hunt, we need some time alone anyways." You looked at Dean and said, "let me go grab some stuff to take on the road." And left the two brothers with their thoughts.
"Mhm, yeah sure, princess." Dean didn't think you could hear him but you did, and goddamn did it put fire in your veins to hear it.
Damn you loved it when he called you princess. He knew that, too.
You hopped into Baby as you took your bag off your back. You knew exactly how you were going to get him to break for you. He was going to fuck you like he hasn't fucked in years.
Dean gets into the Impala, his eyes trailing your whole body as he sits down. He was primarily focused on your chest. You were playing on your phone but you knew exactly what he was doing, and you knew what you were doing, too.
"So what kinda music are we listenin' to?" Dean asked about a minute into the drive. His voice was, if you had to put it in a word, dark. You didn't say anything but you pulled out a tape he made you a few years ago. He labeled it "foggy Windows" because when you guys would have sex in the Impala, the glass would fog up.
He smirked at this. "What are you tryin' to do, sweetheart?"
You didn't say anything again as you slid the tape into the player and let it play. You smirked as "She brings me love" came on. You leaned close to Dean, facing him with a huge ass smile on your face.
"You need it, sweetheart? You baitin' me?" His voice was low as he slid his right hand up your leg. "I wouldn't be mad."
"And what if I am?" You asked with a smirk. "Maybe I'm just that horny for you."
The tires squealed as he came to a hard stop. "Say it again. Tell me how much you need me to fuck you." His voice was shaky as he spoke, his eyes wondering from your lips to your chest.
"Dean I need it so bad, baby. I need you to fuck me." Your face was going red under your makeup, as it did you thanked yourself for putting it on this morning.
Dean pulls Baby into the closest empty parking lot.
"Good girl. You're so good for me, doing what I tell you to do." He smirks and shuts the engine off. You could tell how hard he was just by looking at him. His cheeks flushed, his jeans a little too tight, and he had an adorable smirk on his face.
"I can be even better." You said slowly. You had no idea where your confidence was coming from but you were just glad it was there for you when you needed it.
"Get in the back." Dean demanded you, "Don't open the door to get back there. I want you to climb over my seat. Just don't damage my headliner." He said sternly.
"Yes, sir." You said as you climbed over his seat, making sure you purposefully put your ass in his face as you did so, which made Dean slap your ass as hard as he could. "Good girl."
"You're so good for me, princess." You could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.
Dean opened the door and climbed on top of you, closing the door behind him. He immediately looks down at your chest. "Goddamn, baby, I know why you wore this shirt." He said, grinding against your leg.
You smirk and bite your lip, "Yeah? You like it, daddy?" You ask as you squeeze your boobs between your arms, making them almost pop out of your shirt.
"Fuck, (y/n), you have no idea." He says as he starts kneeling them through your shirt. " I've been wanting this for a while." He says, leaning down to suck on your neck.
You gasp at the feeling of him all over you like this. 'Since I've been loving you' by Led Zeppelin starts playing in the background, making you moan. You knew that when this song was playing, Dean was going to fuck you good. it wasn't because you two were "together" or whatever. He really did love you, with everything he had. He told you one time on a hunt, a hunt that almost killed you. And he knew damn well that you loved him with everything you have too.
"Dean, please, baby. I need it so bad. Need to bounce on you." You wanted to ride him so badly.
"Oh, fuck, sweetheart, You want to bounce on my cock, baby? You want to make me cum for you?" He moaned in your ear, damn near panting because of how bad he needed you.
"Yes, Dean, please." You beg him, hoping he'd give into you. But he didn't.
"Sweetheart, you know I love to please you, right?" He asked breathlessly.
"Yeah baby I do, why?"
"Because I'm not going to give into you. I need to let off some steam. I need to have you the way I want you right now. I need you to be a good little slut for me." He was so fucking needy, and fuck, it turned you on.
You couldn't say anything to this, but you nodded your head. At this he slid off your shorts and threw them into the front seat.
"Baby, no underwear?" He asked, it coming out as a praise rather than a question.
"Yeah baby, all for you." You couldn't help but sound desperate. You needed him, bad.
"God, you're such a good little slut for me." He growls into your ear, his hands roaming around your body until he meets your clit.
"Fuck, fuck yeah Dean I'm your slut." You moan as he rubs circles on your clit, almost pushing you off the edge.
"You're so wet for me too baby, must really want me." He grunts as he sucks on your neck, close to your earlobe.
Dean couldn't hold back anymore. He was so hard his jeans were hurting him. He slides his jeans off and pulls his shirt over his head and he strokes his cock a few times while looking down at you. "So fuckin' gorgeous, (y/n)." He moans as he strokes himself, precum leaking from his tip.
Dean positions himself at your entrance. He looks up at you, and you know how good he's about to fuck you. He slams into you, and you pull him down onto you. Your name falling off his lips like sin. "(y/n), you're so fuckin' tight for me, baby. Feels so damn good."
You loved it when he'd talk to you like this. It would send you over the edge. You dug your nails into the skin on his back as he slammed into you, not giving you any time at all to adjust to his huge size. Your legs wrapped around his waist as you let him rail you, moaning into his ear, "you fuck me so good, this pussy is all yours, Dean."
"I know she is." Dean said, as skin was hitting skin, the sounds of this filling up the Impala. The windows fogging even though it's a billion degrees outside, which Dean was a saint to leave the ac on because of this.
The way he would refer to your pussy as "she" instead of you, always made you feel, weird, but good. You loved it when he said this. Part of you thought it was because you liked the way he didn't look at you as just a sex outlet. Yeah he loved your sex but he loved so much more about you and valued so much more of you than that. And even after all these years, after all the sex you guys have had, you're still amazed that he thought this way.
You clenched around him when he said this to you, your legs wrapped around his waist as he rode you out. "You better wait and come for me, sweetheart. I'll tell you when you can come." He purrs into your ear,
"Yes, sir." You moan in response. He slows down and gets off of you, changing things up and doing exactly what he's been fantasizing about doing to you.
Get on your stomach, baby." He demands, but there was always a tinge of gentleness in his voice when he took control like this; unless he was mad at you.
You nodded and got on your stomach.
"Good girl. Now bring your knees to your chest, princess." This was hard but it wasn't the first time he's made you do this. "Yes, daddy." You responded.
"Good fucking girl. Now, arch that back for me and spread those sexy ass legs." He moans. "Oh and put your hands behind your back so I can hold onto them." He smirks.
"You do as your told, after bringing your legs to your chest you arched your back and spread your legs. Dean puts a thumb into your asshole and starts to pound into you again, not letting you adjust this time either.
"Ohhh fuck, such a good slut. You're such a good little slut for me, aren't you princess?" He asks breathlessly, his thumb in your ass making your head spin. "You like it when I fill you up like this? Both your holes filled up by me, (y/n)?" He was so fucking close and it was obvious.
"Yes, daddy I LOVE it when you fill me up like this. You fuck this tight little pussy so good, I'm your little slut." You are screaming at this point, his cock slamming into you so hard you almost forgot where you were. The only thing that was on your mind right now was Dean.
Dean pulled out quickly and sat down on the leather seats, looking at you and panting. You looked so disappointed it was adorable. "Did you cum?" You asked, hoping he didn't yet. You liked to ride him when he and you both came, and he knew this.
"Bounce on me. Get your fine ass over here and ride daddy's cock, you slut." Dean demanded, his eyes dark with lust.
You didn't hesitate. You took your shirt off that you've been wearing this whole time and you hopped on him, sinking down on him. "Fuck yeah, so tight for me and I've been using you for over an hour now, baby. Your pussy is perfect." You smirked at this and started riding him, rolling your hips and moaning his name.
"You're perfect, sweetheart, All of you is perfect. Every last inch of you, (y/n)." He moaned as you rolled your hips faster. You took your bra off and threw it in the front seat. You then grabbed the top of the bench seat behind Dean and started to bounce on him, your tits making a slapping sound on your skin every time they'd come back down to reunite with the soft skin under them.
Dean was losing his mind. Your body moving like this on him, how tight you are, the sounds you were making, the way you looked riding him, he was lost in you. He was in a daze. You leaned forward to kiss him gently. You were so close and he was too. He grabbed your ass and started fucking up into you. "You like that, sweet girl? You like it when I grab your ass like this and pound you?" He moaned into your ear as he took control yet again.
"Yes daddy I do, please fuck me harder, I'm gonna cum." You moaned loudly as he pounded you relentlessly.
"So fuckin' good for me, slut. You better come for me, bitch. Cum all over my cock, (y/n). I wanna feel you squeeze me." He demands behind clenched teeth.
You didn't hold back, you let out moan after moan, begging him to fill you up, telling him his cock made you feel like a perfect little slut. “Mmmmmm, Dean you fuck me so good.” You moan as you’re looking at him, his eyes locked on yours and a sexy fucking smirk playing on his face.
Dean pulled you off him and threw you onto the seat. He was careful to make sure your head wasn’t going to hit anything before he threw you. He quickly got between your legs. "Wanna watch your tits bounce like this while I fuck you, sweetheart." His movements were powerful and sloppy. He was moaning your name, pinching your nipples, and fucking you; hard. Harder than he ever has.
You scream his name, holding onto the edge of the seat for support. You are bouncing and moaning, your breasts moving all over the place as his cock pounds into your dripping wet cunt.
"So pretty like this baby." He moans and grabs your neck gently. He moans your name, "Fuck I'm gonna cum for you, sweetheart. Gonna fill up your perfect little pussy." He grunts loudly, his grip on your neck tighter now. He cums deep inside of you, his dick all the way into you, reaching your g-spot. "Ohhhh yeah baby, fuck yeah that's good, Fuck I'm cumin'" He moans as he spills deep inside of you, his thrusts slowing down as he empties himself.
"I love you, baby." You say breathlessly.
Dean leans down and kisses you, soft and slow. "And I can't live without you, baby." He says, panting.
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Bad Idea, Right?
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Summary: You know this is a bad idea, but fuck it, it's fine.
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Vaginal fingering. Dirty talk. Dean being a cocky little shit. Dean being fundamentally irresistible.
Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader (You)
Word Count: 1,317
A/N: So, Bad Idea, Right? by Olivia Rodrigo (fabulous song, give it a listen!) came on earlier, and this little scenario just popped into my head.
P.S. I wrote this quickly - so sorry for any mistakes!
Dean Winchester Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists
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The phone rang six times before you finally dragged your eyes open to groan and grope for the buzzing, trilling device on your bedside table.
You looked at the caller ID and were instantly awake and pissed. You sent the call to voicemail and dropped your phone on the bed beside you. 
But seconds later it was making noise again, so you angrily swiped your phone open just long enough to bark out a few words.
“Go to hell, Winchester. Stop calling me. I told you last time, we’re done.”
You hung up without hearing a word from him. You knew why he was calling, and you weren't interested.
Liar.
Your internal voice was always brutally honest with you, so you conceded that okay, yes, you were always going to be interested in a booty call from Dean Winchester, aka Walking Sex.
But you swore the last time that it was, well, the last time.
The two of you had already tried dating years ago, but it ended badly. You were both too much alike, stubborn and incapable of explaining your feelings to one another. You were pretty sure you loved him, but when you imagined telling him that, it felt like you were exposing a raw nerve. 
And it wasn’t as if Dean was the most emotionally available person, so between the two of you there had been an abundance of heat and acrobatic sex followed by fighting and more make up sex, but since that didn’t really translate to a healthy relationship, you’d both agreed to end it.
But even though you broke up over a year ago, you’d never quite managed to quit each other. Every month or so one of you called up the other, and no matter what you told yourself, that you were just gonna hang out, just gonna talk about the hunts you'd been on, inevitably, the night always ended with the two of you falling into bed for a night of extraordinary sex. 
You knew it was unhealthy, though, so you’d told him the last time that you were through, that this couldn’t keep happening. The conversation had devolved quickly and exploded into a massive fight that ended with him slamming out of your hotel room with just his unbuttoned jeans tugged up over his hips, dragging his shirt, shoes and jacket with him.
But now here he was at three in the morning calling again and again. 
And again! You thought angrily as your phone started buzzing once more.
You picked it up and swiped it open, drawing in a big breath to yell at him, but he spoke before you had the chance and his deep voice already had your stomach swooping and your resolve wavering.
“Sweetheart, just hear me out. I know what you said last time, and I know it’s a bad idea, but fuck baby, I just need you. Need to feel you moving against me, clenching so tight around me. It’s been too fucking long and I miss the taste of you.”
You tried desperately to hang on to your anger, but it was melting fast beneath the onslaught of need coursing through you.
Likely knowing he already had the upper hand, Dean continued. “Let me come over and make you feel good. You know you miss me too.”
Even as your head screamed at you to hang up, you heard yourself caving. “Get here in fifteen minutes or the chance is gone.” You said, knowing that even that was a lie.
But Dean hung up without another word and ten minutes later you heard the Impala squeal into your driveway. That sound alone left you dripping in anticipation. 
He didn’t even have the chance to knock, because you wrenched open the door as he bounded up your porch steps.
“This is a bad idea, right?” You asked pointlessly. 
But Dean nodded. “Yeah probably.”
You stood staring at each other for a heartbeat before you shook your head and leapt at him. “Fuck it, it’s fine.”
Dean was already pulling off your clothes as he pushed you back into your house and slammed the door behind him. You pushed his flannel off his shoulders, and yanked at his t-shirt as he got your pajama shorts off and then ripped off your tank top.
He growled as he lifted you so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He dipped his head down to suck your pebbled nipple into his mouth, drawing deeply and making you throw your head back with a shout of pleasure.
He set you on your kitchen table so he could kick off his boots and push down his jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear and for some reason that realization made you feral. 
He swept two of his thick fingers through your slit, groaning at the dripping mess he found. He brought his sticky fingers to his lips and sucked your juices from the tips. 
“So fucking delicious baby. I’m gonna need to feast on you later, but right now all I can think about is getting my cock buried so fucking deep into that sweet pussy that you feel me for days, maybe even weeks.” 
His filthy words always drove you crazy. Listening to his deep, gruff voice as he described everything he was going to do to you, had made you come untouched more than once.
He slipped his fingers back into your slick, burying them inside you this time and scissoring you open, before sliding in and out of you a few times with a wet squelching sound. Then he curled his fingers forward like he was beckoning you to him, hitting your sweet spot perfectly, pressing and rubbing until you were writhing on the table and begging for him.
“Dean, please, just give it to me.”
“Yeah baby? You want it?” Dean asked with a smirk that made you wanna smack him a little. 
“Yeah, jackass! Why do you think you’re here?” You shouted at him breathlessly.
“Knew you were needing this big cock, knew you couldn’t go without me any more than I could go without you.”
He suddenly drove himself all the way into your heat with one thrust, ripping a pleasured scream from your throat. You clung to his shoulders, digging your nails into his hard, straining muscles as you both looked down to watch his thick cock slide in and out of your cunt, opening you up again and again.
You dropped back onto your elbows, head thrown back, as Dean lifted your hips off the table so he could drive in deeper.
“Jesus fuck!” Dean ground out. “You take me so fucking good, baby. Never had anybody take my cock like you do, so perfectly, clenching around me so goddamn tight.” 
As you squeezed him hard again, he sucked in his breath on a hiss and continued to pound into you, shaking the table and drawing endless, keening moans from deep inside your chest. Finally, he slammed into you hard and deep, hitting your sweet spot again and pushing you over the edge. With a high-pitched cry, you clamped down on his cock, making him shout out your name as he fucked you through your orgasm and into his own. 
He let your hips drop back onto the table and his softening dick slipped out of you. But he pushed it back inside and began nibbling on your breasts as he breathed out his words against your skin.
“I wanna feel you around me for a little longer, feel the way those little shuddering aftershocks of yours send electricity shooting straight through me.” He slid his hand to your clit and began rubbing you. “Gonna make you come over and over while I’m inside you, get me hard all over again.”
All you could do was moan and scratch your nails across his shoulders as the pleasure built deep inside you once more. A weak voice echoed in the back of your head reminding you this was a bad idea. But you just ignored it.
Fuck it, it’s fine.
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Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33
@alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly
@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya
@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573
Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world @aylacavebear
Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27
@waywardcheshire
Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007
@notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester
@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2
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bitchinfawkseh · 1 month
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•♡ Pages of Affection ♡•
Dean Winchester x girly girl reader
Summary: You and Dean go to the library to investigate a case. While searching through some old papers and clippings, you discover a series of old love letters. Dean thinks they're stupid - you think they are romantic. In an attempt to make you feel special, he writes you a love letter.
Word count: 1288
Book after book, page after page, and still nothing. Nothing that would help you with this case or future cases - and Dean's grumbling and complaining was getting annoying. You adjusted the bow that was pinning your hair back away from your face - sometimes it got all slanted and looked weird. And you'd rather not have Dean tease you about it again. "We should have just made Sammy do the research." Dean started. You rolled your eyes and let out a deep, heavy sigh.
"I can't focus when you're whining."
"I'm not whining -"
"You are!" You interrupted, shooting him a mean glare. Dean went silent, and you decided to enjoy it while it lasted. You flipped open an older and more worn heavy book, the edges were frayed, and there were tons of scratches on the cover. Two flimsy pieces of paper fell out, landing in your lap. They looked to be old, too, with how dirty the paper was and how it smelt amazing
You purse your lips together and carefully pick it up, rubbing the material between your fingers. It felt more like parchment rather than modern-day printer paper. "What's that?" Dean asked, trying to peek at the papers. You shook your head and shrugged. You weren't sure what it was until you unfolded it. Messy scrawl and an easily read "My love," addressed at the top. You slowly smiled as you read through the love letter. It was so sweet… so romantic.
My love,
You've been on my mind for quite some time now, and it's getting harder each day to forget about you. I have known you for close to six years now. As time passes, I fall deeper in love with you. Sometimes, it's tough for me to express myself. Whenever I talk to you, I get flustered. Whenever I talk to somebody else about you, I get tongue-tied. You make my heart jump every time I see you. It's crazy that you are oblivious to your effect on me. But that is a part of your charm. The moment I laid my eyes upon you, I knew that my heart would forever be yours. Your beauty, both inside and out, is unmatched, and your kind and loving spirit only adds to my admiration for you.
You are my heart, my soul, my everything. I can not imagine a life without you, and I will do everything in my power to make you happy. I love you now and forever.
Forever yours,
George
"Oh… Dean, look." You said, passing him the letter as you went to read the second one. This might be the sweetest thing you've ever read, this George guy sure had a way with words. Dean watched with raised brows as you scanned the second letter, a soft happy smile on your face. Who knew someone else's love life could make you so happy? He swallowed hard and started to read what you handed him. It was… cheesy to say the least. It sort of made him cringe, to be honest. "You like this stuff?" He snorted.
You frowned. "It's romantic."
"It's cheesy, is what it is."
"He loved whoever he sent this to very much, who cares if it's cheesy?" You asked. Dean cocked a brow and looked you up and down, from your floral dress to your Mary-janes. Something you'd only ever wear if it was a "chill day", when you were out in the action, you'd opt for jeans and boots. "You like this stuff?" He asked. You nodded and your eyes briefly met his. "It's sweet."
His lips thinned slightly, "Huh."
And here he was, hours after you and Sam had both gone to bed, trying to write you a love letter. Dean tried to go with a rhyming scheme for a while - until he tried to rhyme your name with something that wasn't completely stupid and couldn't think of anything and scrapped that idea.
He thought about just copying the love letter you found - or something from online but that would be stupid. You could tell, and it wouldn't show he tried to put any effort in at all. Dean glanced over at your curled-up sleeping form, wearing a cute pink vintage nightgown that you nearly flipped your lid over when you saw it in the thrift store. You did love all of that… girly stuff. It was very endearing.
Then, he suddenly got some inspiration. Dean picked up his pen again, scribbling some things down on the paper. He knew what he wanted to write - but he didn't know how to word it. Dean appreciated you too much for it to be half-assed - or something that could be taken the wrong way with how it was worded.
And soon, the words just started to flow.
The next morning, Dean took you out for a coffee and some pastries at the local shop. The letter he wrote for you was snug in his coat pocket - waiting for your eyes and only your eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat and wiped one of his clammy palms on the expanse of his jeans as he sat down on the bench next to you. You briefly looked over at him, taking a tiny sip from the herbal tea he had gotten for you. “So, what’s the occasion?” You asked. Dean’s brows furrowed and he chuckled nervously, he swore that his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. “What? No occasion…”
Your eyes narrowed, “Dean.”
“Okay! Okay, I… I have something for you - but don’t laugh, okay?” He swallowed hard and started to dig through his pocket. Your face immediately softened and you turned to face him, whatever it was - it was important to him.
Then, he pulled out a folded piece of paper with your name addressed on the front of it. “I tried real hard, okay? So… don’t laugh.” Dean warned - but with the slight waver in his voice, you could tell that he was very nervous. You took the delicate piece of paper from him and carefully unfolded it. The first line was enough to make your heart swell and for butterflies to form in your stomach.
Hey,
I don’t really know what to write… You know I’m not the mushy-gushy kinda guy, but I wanna try for you. I wanna start this off by saying I think you’re the prettiest woman out there, no doubt in my mind (and the bows you like to wear in your hair are damn cute.) You’re my whole goddamn world… you know, I purposefully try to make you laugh all the time too because it honestly sounds better than any Zeppelin song (don’t tell anyone I said that.) All it needs is a good guitar solo… kidding. Anyway, you’re my sweet girl who adores all that cute girly and flowery stuff, hell, I even let ya put that old heart key chain on my keys for Baby - nobody gets to fuck with Baby, except for you. I love you, more than words can say. I know I don’t tell you a lot, but I do.
I love you.
Your bottom lip jutted out, and you clutched the piece of paper to your chest, “Dean…” He surveyed your reaction carefully with wide eyes. Did you like it? Did you hate it? Finally, you practically threw yourself into his arms and buried your face in the crook of his neck. “This is the sweetest thing ever.” You beamed. Dean let out a relieved chuckle and tightly wrapped his arms around your waist. He (not so) discreetly inhaled the scent of your hair, smiling faintly when the light fragrance of flowers hit him. “Glad ya like it, sweetheart.”
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zepskies · 11 months
Note
Hey, I’ve really enjoyed reading your imagines. Would you be up for writing one where either Dean / Solider Boy / Beau, I don’t mind, has done something to upset/piss off the reader and goes out his way to make it up to her and then it’s all fluffy? I’m definitely in the readers position right now and hoping that’s what’s happening! Thank you.
Hey lovely anon!
Ooh this is interesting. So you didn't exactly ask for this, but this is where my mind went. I really enjoyed doing an imagine called "How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to seeing your breast reduction scars."
So I'm going to do this one in that style...
Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
Tags/Warnings: Angst, arguments, hurt/comfort, fluff
Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would make up for pissing you off.
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Dean Winchester
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Readers of Devour Me will recognize this scenario...
Dean can be an asshole sometimes. He knows it, but that side of him tends to come out along with his protective side.
He gave you...what you would consider a "firm suggestion" on a hunt. In his mind, it was a warning you were meant to follow: hang back.
The vampire nest was bigger than you guys expected.
You jumped in to save the woman they were keeping chained...but she was already drained dry. A vamp caught you, but before you could swing your knife, hot teeth sank into your neck.
Your scream rang through the air, tearing from your throat.
Dean's machete soon followed, killing the vampire and saving you in the process. He hid the depths of his worry. His fear, when he heard your scream, saw the monster bearing on you.
He buried the true depths of that turmoil and later holds you while Cas heals you. You thank him with a sigh and look up at Dean. Before you can apologize for ignoring his warning, his words simultaneously cut you to the bone and spark a blaze:
"I hope you learned your damn lesson," he says.
"Excuse me?" you hotly reply.
"You fucking heard me! When I say 'hang back,' I mean it. Hang the hell back."
"I've been hunting long before I met you, Dean."
"Yeah, well. Color me surprised that you've made it this long."
And that sparks the knock-down drag-out fight you and Dean have in the dirty, blood-splattered barn in the middle of nowhere. Even Sam and Cas are uncomfortable in the midst of you and Dean as they deal with the bodies of the vamps.
You don't let Dean touch you that night, even though you two still share the same bed. You sleep turned away from him, curled in on yourself.
He doesn't know how to make you understand. The sight of you with blood covering your neck and shoulder, running down over and under your shirt...
He hates it more than anything.
Even in the morning, the memory of your scream rings in his ears.
You've woken up before him, leaving your side of the bed empty. He wanders into the kitchen and finds you with your cup of coffee, stirring the creamer in for far too long. He watches you for a moment. He sees you're lost in thought. Maybe your eyes are a bit haunted.
He hates that too.
"Hey, sweetheart," he greets. His voice is still a deep rumble, but his gentleness is an olive branch.
You recognize that, and your own features soften. The truth is, you're too upset and spent to be angry anymore. You really just need him back.
He guides you into his arms, presses a kiss to your forehead, and sighs.
"...Look, I'm sorry," he says. He's grateful, even for this moment. Because it means you're safe, with him.
"I'm sorry too," you reply. You squeeze him tighter and bury your face in his chest. "I love you."
Dean hesitates. His heart clenches, both with warmth and the fear of what could have been. He lets out another deep breath as his fingers soothe through your hair.
"Love you too."
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Beau Arlen
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Don't let that adorable scruff fool you. Beau has his moments, just like everyone else...
You don't want to feel like the jealous "other woman." Because that certainly isn't what you are.
You and Beau have been dating for a while now. You know this is something special. He is special. A big-hearted man who leads by example, and makes his daughter a priority in his life.
You admire that more than anything. You've come to love Emily as well...
However, he's been consistently cancelling on you. Dates you'd planned, dinners you'd made, "office picnics" at the precinct that got rain-checked more than the goddamn weather channel.
It seems like any time you and Beau try to carve out a moment for each other, it gets waylaid by something that "just can't wait."
Sometimes it's due to the demands of his job (which you understand).
But more often, it's because he seems to drop everything to heed his ex-wife's requests, large and small. From moving boxes in downsizing her house, to picking up her dry cleaning.
Carla always laces her requests (demands) with something understandable, like dropping off Emily at school. As a lawyer, she's smart like that.
But you're smart too, and you see her game.
She's slowly but surely wrapping Beau around her finger, and it's driving you insane.
"Can't you see she's manipulating you?!" you finally ask him. Your hands gesture widely, your brows are knitted together, and so are Beau's. His mouth is pressed in a line.
"The hell do you mean?" he asks.
"Exactly what I'm saying," you retort. "She asks you to jump, and you say, How high, darlin'?"
Part of him wants to smile at your exaggerated Texan approximation of him. But mostly, he's irritated.
"That's not true! I'm just trying to do right by her. She's the mother of my kid--"
Your hand presses against your forehead.
"I know that, Beau. Of course I do," you say. Against your will, your deepest fears take hold. They make you feel ugly inside for thinking them, let alone saying them.
"But...either she wants you back, or maybe you want her."
Beau's frown deepens. "What? What're you talkin' about."
He tries to grab your hand, but you evade him. You cross your arms to give you the excuse you need to hold yourself together.
He blows out a frustrated breath and shakes his head. "She left me, remember?"
"Things change. Feelings change," you say hotly. Your eyes run over his face, as if trying to search his heart.
Beau finally understands just what you're thinking. He softens.
And then his expression firms.
"Not for me," he says.
He reaches for you. You allow him to grasp your elbows. He steps closer into your line of vision until his broad frame is all you can see, but you refuse to look up at him. Not until his curled finger prods under your chin, raising your face up to his.
His face lacks the jovial nature he usually carries, with a side of teasing that usually drives you crazy and lightens your heart in equal measure.
No. Right now, he's serious. His thumb grazes your cheek.
"Sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."
Your eyes are lowered, with unshed tears swimming in them. Until Beau presses his lips to your cheek. Your eyes close, and you take in the tenderness of his touch. The smell of his cologne.
When you next open your eyes, he's smiling softly down at you. It leads you to smile a little.
"It'd be nice if you didn't cancel on me so much then," you can't help but mutter, a bit petulantly.
Beau's smile slips a bit. "I sure am sorry about that. And I'll talk to Carla. But uh..."
The rest of his good humor fades. "She mentioned something about taking Emily back to Houston."
Your eyes widen. Your hand moves to grip his wrist. "What?"
"I guess I was just...tryin' to butter her up a bit. If she settled in that new house, had everything she needed, maybe she'd stop thinking about leaving," he admits. "I want her to do what's best for Emily, but...I don't know if I can take it if she's in a whole other state."
You bite your lip. You try to soothe him with your fingers carding through his hair. You pull him into your embrace, and the roles of comfort reverse.
"You do need to talk to Carla," you say. "But I want to help, in whatever way I can. You just let me know."
You can't see it, but Beau smiles as he holds you a fraction tighter.
"You already are."
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Soldier Boy (Ben)
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Ugh, this (lovable) bastard...
There are a lot of opportunities to piss you off, and Ben has a habit of taking them.
He's protective, misogynistic (though you're surely trying with him), and doesn't give two shits about modern social protocols like tolerance and respect.
Nor does he give a fuck about being "nice" or "pleasant" if he doesn't want to. (And he never wants to.)
When he pisses you off, however, you have to pick your battles.
You're as patient as you can be with him, knowing all of his idiosyncrasies and foibles as well as you've come to learn them.
But when he nearly snaps a man's arm off for grabbing your ass in a musky club, you have to draw the line.
(Ben settled for jabbing the man in the face, hard enough to toss him back into an entire row of glasses. You'd winced at the man's scream of pain as glass shattered into his back.)
When you send your boyfriend a look, he's both unfazed and unapologetic.
"What, would you rather have that greasy fuck pawing all over you? No one's gonna have the balls to cop a feel right in front of me, unless they want 'em shoved up their ass."
You make a face of disgust, roll your eyes, and angrily storm out of the club. Ben follows you, now getting just as irritated. He grabs your arm and turns you around.
"What the fuck is your problem?" he demands. You raise a brow.
"Not everything is an affront to your manhood," you reply testily. "Are you really protecting me, or is it just your petty pride that another man would dare touch what's 'yours?'"
You turn to walk away from him, but he grabs you again. This time by the hand. He barely resists the urge to yank you back.
No, Ben waits for you to choose. To turn back to him. You're frowning in your anger, but even he can see the thread of hurt deep down. The fear that his motivations are only selfish.
His jaw ticks. But he sighs through his nose. "Come 'ere."
Reluctant though you seem, you take a chance in drawing back into him. His arms circle around you, with those heavy hands splaying across your lower back. He cages you securely against him and looks down you. His eyes are a fraction softer.
"You are mine," he says. "I'm not gonna let these cocksuckers forget it. Because I've got plenty of enemies who'd do more than just touch you."
It sucks to be reminded of that fact, but it's the cold reality. Still, you soften, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.
He's trying to send the world a clear message: he won't tolerate bullshit, of any kind. Least of all with you.
That, you can appreciate.
And you lean up to press a sweet kiss to his lips.
Knowing Ben, it doesn't stay sweet for long.
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AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 Lots of angst diverted into hurt/comfort and fluff, there.
Do you guys like these Dean/Beau/Ben "reacts?" Let me know! 😉
Dean Winchester Imagines
Dean Winchester Masterlist
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DW, BA & SB Tag List (Part 1):
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propertyofyoutube · 4 months
Note
Heyyy what are your upcoming fics, and who are they about - Mexican anon🌺
Thanks for the support guys! I’m glad you’re enjoying the stuff I’m putting out! Don’t forget to keep requesting💃🖤
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girls-alias · 6 months
Text
Those Eyes - Dean Winchester P2
Title: Those Eyes - Dean Winchester Part 2
Words: 3,569
Relationship: Dean Winchester X Reader
TW: Strong language. Angst, sexual tension, masturbation talk, Dom-Sub.
Taglist: @qinnroki @deans-baby-momma @creative-writing92 @lokischickadee @take_it_on_the_run @daisy-the-quake @ilikw @selfdestructionandrhum @globetrotter28
Requested: @deans-spinster-witch @pycobutterpie @deans-queen @suckitands33
Part 1
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I cleared my throat, trying to gain some self-control as I made my way to Sam at the Impala. I should have cleaned myself up again, God damn Dean. I have never in my life been so attracted to someone. No one else has even been able to control me with just their eyes before. I can't pinpoint what it is about him but then again I think it's everything about him that turns me on. He's hot as fuck and my God he knows exactly what to say and do to make me weak.
He's such a tease. "Hey," I jumped at the voice, startled by the sudden snap back to reality. I blinked my imagination away realising that I had walked back to the Impala on auto-pilot. I forced a smile on Sam as he looked at me confused. "You okay?" He asked suspiciously, his eyebrows knitted together as he rested his back against the Impala. Dean must have the keys.
"Yeah, just in a world of my own," I chuckled, joining him in resting against the car. He looked at me a little sceptically.
"You sure? You seem completely distracted. If you don't feel up to this one, you can take point on research or just chill in the motel," He added, his sympathy and soft tone showing he was worried about me. Knowing him, he probably once again thought I was on my period. He always seems sympathetic about my periods, always offering support or things I might need. He's always getting hot water bottles ready for me in case I'm in too much pain with cramps. Sometimes saying he's proud of me for getting through them and gives his condolences that I had to go through it. It's sweet and makes me feel loved, he once explained that Jess' cramps were crippling and so he was always helping her that time of month.
I chuckled as I smiled, "I'm not on my period, just a little distracted," I commented, smiling brightly as I knew that no matter how much I questioned what was happening between Dean and me, Sam was a constant in my life.
"Anything you want to talk about?" He asked, showing a little concern probably worried. I smiled softly as I shook my head.
"Nothing's on my mind, just tired I think," I shrugged, he seemed to accept that answer.
"I'm here if you need me," He added, a genuine smile on his lips. I chuckled as I smiled back.
"Thanks, Sammy," I added, my attention quickly going to movement as Dean walked out of the police station. My eyes seemed magnetised to him, I bit my lip as I admired him. Smirking as he approached us, I gulped the closer he got.
"You better not have scratched the paint," Dean joked as he approached us. Sam and I chuckled as I shook my head, both of us getting away from the car. Sam walked around the car, getting in the passenger seat as Dean continued towards me. I turned my back to him, ready to open my door but gasped as Dean's hand found my back and pushed me against the car. My eyes widened as I looked over the car, my chest against the glass window. He wiped my ass with a few swipes. I gulped, frozen in place. "Don't want both my babies dirty," He commented, his tone low and seductive. I gulped, trying to comprehend what was happening. He called me baby, he's wiping dirt off my ass and pinned me against the car. He slapped my ass harshly, a whimper leaving my lips as he chuckled. "You need to stop being so hot, the cop asked me for your number. Did you think he was hot?" He asked, I was completely dumbstruck by his question.
"No," I managed, my voice sounded small as his hand kept me against the car. I know if I moved he would let me, nothing about him or the way he acts threatens me. I know that if I showed I was uncomfortable and wanted him to stop he would.
"Good, I don't want competition." He stated simply. My eyebrows furrowed as the thought of Dean ever having competition was impossible. The only time someone would choose someone other than Dean clearly hasn't met him, they clearly hadn't felt his eyes on them and the way he controls me. "Now, get your fine ass in the car," He added, slapping my ass again before he opened his door and climbed inside. I took a deep breath to compose myself before climbing in the back.
"What was that about?" Sam asked, clearly confused as to why it took us a while to get in the car.
"Cop wanted her number, just checking if she wanted to go back in and give it to him," Dean explained, his tone showing indifference.
"Oh," Sam exclaimed, clearly surprised. I chuckled dryly.
"Wow, thanks Sam," I commented sarcastically. Sam chuckled as he shook his head but my attention was on Dean as he seemed to glare at Sam.
"No, I wasn't surprised that he asked for your number I was surprised Dean actually told you," Sam commented but Dean looked at him confused. Sam has been oblivious to everything between Dean and me. He always looks innocent to others so I don't think he knows anything has been happening for months.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, his tone showing a little annoyance. The air in the car felt tense as we just sat waiting for Dean to start driving but Dean was waiting for answers. I gulped, waiting and not wanting to be present in the conversation.
"Well, I just mean-" Sam stumbled for answers. Dean's stare didn't quiver as he looked at Sam. I took a deep breath, his stare wasn't even at me and I was still affected. "People ask for her number all the time," Sam shrugged, my eyes rolled to the back of my head as I begged the world to eat me. Great!
"What do you mean all the time?" Dean asked but Sam chuckled.
"At least once a hunt, sometimes more. I thought you knew," Sam added, clearly a little confused. I considered holding my breath and waiting until the nightmare was over but I knew I couldn't hold my breath to death. I'd never mentioned any of this to Dean, it's not something to brag about and if anything I think it's weird. I wouldn't say that I'm hot but when I've talked with someone they're interested. It must be a mix of my looks and personality. I've never thought much of it, plus it isn't every hunt Sam's exaggerating.
"No, I didn't," Dean said plainly, his eyes turning to the mirror as he looked at me before starting the car. I gulped, instantly worrying how he would react in private.
There have been times when a guy has hit on me in a bar and Dean always got a little jealous but he also loves to tease me about it claiming that I'm way out of their leagues and they didn't stand a chance. I always thought it was hot, the jealousy and compliments. Then again, Dean breathes and I think it's hot.
The drive back to the motel was quiet, the radio playing in the background not particularly loud. My mind raced with all the possible situations that could happen with Dean. I wondered if he would be jealous or compliment me, I worried he would be annoyed. Although I didn't hide it from him on purpose, it seemed weird that it had never come up in conversation sooner. I hope he doesn't think I was keeping it a secret. I chewed on my bottom lip a little nervously.
"Y/n," I looked forward, coming back to reality as Sam chuckled softly. I smiled softly as I wondered why he had said my name. "You staying in the car?" He asked with a chuckle, I looked out the window and we were here. Dean climbed out of the car, I gathered myself jumping slightly when my door opened. I looked out seeing Dean had opened my door for me and was waiting. I bit my lip as I climbed out, thanking him as I stood up. His face was plain, I took a deep breath knowing he was most likely annoyed.
I stepped away from the car so he could close the door. Sam got out, heading to the motel room to unlock the door, I gulped following him with Dean close beside me. "I knew I wouldn't be alone in wanting you but seems you have a lot to choose from," He stated simply, his hand on my lower back as he walked with me. My breath hitched, and my heart rate quickened. I kept my eyes on Sam's back, not having the willpower to look at Dean and his eyes. God, those eyes. They're my weakness and strength all at once.
I was uneasy for a while, sitting in the motel room with the boys. A part of me wanted to make an excuse to go to my room, hopefully Dean would come but another part of me was too nervous to see what would happen. For months it has felt like a game of cat and mouse, the secret chase. Now that he may catch me, I'm worried that it won't be as fun, I could never stop being attracted to Dean but I worried that after today things would change and I am not a fan of change. I gulped, coming back into conversation with the boys as I felt Dean's eyes on me. I glanced over, he was smirking but looked back at Sam, their conversation about the case continuing.
After a little while, I was invested in the conversation. Putting in my theories and laughing along with the jokes. Dean's eyes often found me but he was holding back on looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off, this is the time of the day when I'm a little calmer, although he still affects me I'm still able to function in a room with him.
"Right," Sam announced, getting up from his chair and grabbing his jacket off the back of it. I looked at him confused, watching as he put on his coat. Where's he going? "I'm getting food," He explained, looking at Dean and me with a smile. My eyes widened slightly as I felt Dean's eyes on me. He smirked.
"I can do it," I tried but Sam chuckled, I probably sounded too eager.
"It's alright, I was able to take a shower this morning so you's might as well stay back and freshen up," He explained, doing my least favourite thing that he often does... he brings logic into the conversation. I sighed, wanting nothing more than to run out of the room so he didn't have a choice and so I wasn't alone with Dean.
After a little time, Sam left Dean and me alone. I gulped, forcing a smile but not looking at him. He chuckled, my eyes instinctively going to him. He licked his lips, his eyes yet again devouring me. He either needs to stop looking at me with those eyes or stop looking at me altogether.
"Hope there's enough hot water for the two of us," He started slowly. I gulped, the rest of his sentence predictable and yet my insides quivered to hear him say it. He rose from his seat at the table, eyes boring deep into mine. He smirked as he approached me on the couch, I gulped, eyes glued to him as he towered over me. He smirked devilishly as he put his hands on the back of the couch, leaning over me but lowering himself close to my face. His eyes looked deep into mine, and my breath hitched as his plump lips tempted me to kiss them. "Or maybe we should save water. Seems you have a choice of men to shower with," He finished. His voice was deep but whispered.
I gulped, mouth drying as I looked up at him. His lips slightly parted, half his lips curled into a smirk. "You know," He started, pausing for dramatic effect or waiting until my heartbeat wasn't as loud so I could hear him, it's unclear. "It seems wrong showering with you if we haven't even kissed," He added, biting his bottom lip as his eyes travelled to my lips. I held my breath, my chin raising slightly as my heart rate quickened, and my lips practically tingled with anticipation for him kissing me.
Time seemed to stand still as his lips were an inch from mine. His eyes searched my face, I gulped, lips parted as I waited, begging him to kiss me. I bit my bottom lip, his eyes catching the movement quickly, I should just grab him and kiss him! Why wait for him to do it? I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to grab the back of his neck and close the distance between our lips.
"Guess we'll have to wait then," He spoke abruptly, standing up straight and moving away from me as if the whole thing hadn't happened. I sat, gawking at him. I gritted my teeth as I rolled my eyes. That's it! I'm done with him! I'm done with this game! If he doesn't want to kiss me then I don't want to see him. I stood, taking control of my own body. He turned around looking at me a little confused, obviously not expecting me to stand.
"Yeah, well have fun alone," I scoffed, shaking my head as I walked out. I headed a few doors down to my motel room, normally we're in the rooms next to each other but now I'm thankful that there wasn't the space for that. I need as much distance from Dean as I can get right now.
I slammed my door shut, clasping my hands together as I stopped myself from punching a hole in the door. He's not messing with me anymore, I am done being played with! I locked the door, focusing on taking a shower and pleasing myself while trying to think of anyone but Dean.
I cleaned myself up, exfoliating and getting my skin as clean as possible. A part of me wanted to wash Dean off of me, to leave no trace of him on my skin. I washed my hair, putting on a hair mask to get it as new and fresh as possible. I grew practically giddy as I leaned against the tiles, my instincts wincing away from the cold tiles. I rested back, fingers travelling down to my exposed nerves. I bit my lip, the warm water trickling down my body, the warmth washing over me as my ring and middle finger found my clit. I bit my lip harder, a whimper escaping my lips as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. I sighed happily as I rubbed circles over my clit, the pleasure consuming me as I found my mind.
Thoughts of Dean clouded my mind, I fought to think of someone else, a distraction. Dean's eyes took up my mind so I opened my eyes, focusing on the sensations. I moaned softly before trailing my fingers down.
A scream escaped my lips as I jumped. A loud bang echoed through my motel room. SHIT! I hurried to turn my shower off. I peeked my head out of the bathroom seeing no one in my room, I grabbed a towel quickly wrapping it around my body as I hurried to the door. I grabbed my gun, cocking it as I looked through the peephole. I sighed as I put the gun aside. Dean fucking Winchester. Of course, it is. I rolled my eyes as I unlocked the door.
"What the fuck Dean?" I asked, annoyance in my tone as I opened the door. He looked annoyed before pushing the door wider, I stumbled back from the movement. He walked in, his back turned to me as I looked around annoyed and frustrated in more ways than one. I pushed the door shut, silently seething as I looked at Dean.
"I told you not to lock your door," His voice was angry but his eyes were hungry. Normally I'd be a puddle on the floor by now but I am done with him. I scoffed as I shook my head.
"And I told you to have fun alone," I retorted as I put my hand on my hip, looking at him angrily as he looked surprised by my response. I stayed strong as he stared me down.
"You're talking back to me now?" He asked, his eyebrows showing he wasn't asking, more stating. I maintained eye contact, not letting myself feel belittled by him.
"Yeah, there's no point in wasting both of our time and energy. I was actually showering so if you could just fuck off, that'd be great," I responded, gritting my teeth as I watched his anger grow. His eyes were darker than I've ever seen them. I made a point of not breaking eye contact first, it grew more challenging but I stayed strong. He remained still, his mind clearly clouded by his anger. I continued to fight myself to not break eye contact, it's principle now. He didn't seem to be struggling which only angered me more. "And for the love of God, will you stop looking at me with those eyes!" I shouted, my chest rising and falling rapidly. He clenched his jaw, eyebrows stiffening as he said nothing. "Don't look at me like you want to rip my clothes off, either do it or stop looking at me," I shouted, momentarily surprising myself with my own words.
Dean seemed surprised too, his anger evaporating from his expression. He looked away from me, scoffing slightly as he looked caught off guard. I clenched my jaw, offended by his reaction. I knew he was just messing with me this whole time but to scoff at that is ridiculous. I sucked my teeth angrily as I nodded, coming fully to terms with the fact this whole thing was a game to him. I tried with everything in me not to punch him in his handsome and annoying face. He shook his head as he turned towards the door.
That's what I thought. It was now so apparently obvious he was messing with me. Maybe now I'll finally get over him. I rolled my eyes as I turned around to watch him leave. My eyebrows furrowed slightly as he stopped at the door. He moved with precise movements, his hand reaching for the door handle. Seemed odd, but it all made sense why he stopped when rather than grabbing the handle he flicked the lock. My eyes widened as I gulped, we're locked in.
I stood frozen in place as he slowly turned around to look at me, his eyes still looking at me like he wanted to rip my clothes off. He moved slowly, approaching me without a word. I gulped, snapping myself back to reality.
"Dean," I cleared my throat, trying to gain some strength in my voice. "I wasn't serious," I tried, my voice sounding little as I backed away from him. His expression didn't change, he continued approaching me. "Stop messing with me," I jumped when my back hit the wall behind me. I gulped as he continued, my inside fluttering nervously. I felt little again as he towered over me. My breath hitched as he put a hand on the wall beside my head, his arm staying straight as he rested against it. His body was close to mine as he stared deep into my eyes. I bit my lip, watching as my insides churned in anticipation.
"Do I have your permission?" He asked slowly, his voice deep with desire. I gulped, taken back by his question. I was frozen in place, my lips parting as my mind considered all my options. I either put my foot down and get him to leave, he'll stop messing with me and I'll be in control of myself again... But... I nodded softly, too intimidated to speak. Dean smirked softly. His hands moved to my towel slowly. I gasped as he ripped it from my body quickly, forcefully. I gulped, fully exposed to him. He took a second to look me over, his eyes admiring every curve of my body as he licked his lips. My breath quickened as I could see his pupils dilate, the throb in his neck quickened before he bit his bottom lip. His eyes finally found mine, his breath quick as he almost growled. "From now on I'm going to look at you like I want to eat you. Let's see how long before you're begging to have this conversation again," He spoke slowly, eyes bouncing from my lips to my eyes, clearly wanting to kiss me. All ability to function left my body as I stared into his eyes. True to his word he looked at me like he wanted to devour me, like he was starving and I was the only food in sight.
God knows how I'm going to survive this.
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Part 3
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Text
When they settled down, Lachelle was thoughtful and Dean looked at her worriedly. "Did I say something you didn't mean?"
"I'm not one of your wenchs."
"I never thought that, you said..."
"I mean I'm probably ten times worse, but I don't care, in bed I have to have fun, it doesn't affect who I am. The point is that this family situation I've never had and I don't want to risk losing it by doing my usual messing around. Besides, I want to die as a 50-year-old single milf, sipping a glass of wine and making out a delivery boy bringing me sushi."
"Granted that you make even being a spinster sexy, I don't understand what you're getting at."
"That maybe I could consider being good friends and give us a hand when we need it and ... the rest when we feel like it." she said looking into his eyes to observe the reaction well. "You can count on me as having a sister, but you and I have to have sex."
"I am strangely very, very much in agreement with you."
"Protected, no implications, no exclusivity, only we know. What do you think?"
"You have my word."
"And don't you dare change your attitude with me, fall asleep in my bed or anything else that I haven't first approved after your motion, like a Parliamentary Monarchy." she said between pragmatic and joking.
"Affirmative your Grace, yes sir--Roger Wilco, Houston we have a problem, Five by five, hoist the flag, everybody to port," Dean continued, playing the fool to make her laugh.
"Idiot. I have books to put away, see you."
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holylulusworld · 1 year
Text
Very tight places - Kinktober 3
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Summary: You're stuck with a soulless Sam again.
Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader
Square 8 filled for @anyfandomgoesbingo: Amnesia
Square 6 filled for @samwinchesterbingo: Dirty Talk
Warnings: soulless!Sam being his asshole self, cheating (kinda), smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of anal sex, creampie, claustrophilia, blasphemie
Rating: Explicit
Kink: Claustrophilia
Words:
Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023
Catch up here: Cramped (1) & Tight places (2)
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Six months later you are still hunting with Dean and Sam. You didn’t want to leave the elder Winchester alone with his soulless brother. 
Who are you trying to kid? The ugly and embarrassing truth is, that you can’t stay away from Sam for too long.
He’s intoxicating. You’re high on him, and the way he fucks you. If you had an ounce of dignity left, you’d tell the bastard to fuck off. But you are too far gone to care.
Most nights, you let him do unspeakable things to you. Dean stumbled in on you and his brother, calling you sick more than once. He wrinkles his nose anytime Sam gropes you in front of his brother.
Sam has no filter. In any way. When it comes to sex, he doesn’t care if you are in the middle of a case, at a hospital, or buying groceries. Sam wants you, and he gets you.
Anytime. Anywhere.
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“Sam, what are we doing here, dressed in the cheapest costumes we could find,” you grumble as Sam decides you must play nun and priest to solve your latest case. 
Dean is out and about to find Death. Not to die this time, but to convince Death himself to help him get Sam’s soul back. 
Sam is not amused. He wants to stay like this. New and improved. Deadly, focused, and with a sexual appetite making even Dean blush.
“I look ridiculous. They will not believe I’m a nun.” Glancing around the almost empty church you sigh. At least there are not many people around to witness your poor performance.
“Why?” Sam resists the urge to grope your ass. Seeing you in your nun costume got him rock-hard. If not for the case he wants to solve, he’d have you bent over the altar already. “We look just the same as the priest I knocked out to get his clothes.”
“You did what?” you stop in your tracks to gape at Sam. “Please tell me you didn’t knock a priest out, Samuel Winchester. I don’t want to go to hell only because you have no impulse control.”
Sam smirks darkly. “You are so cute when mad,” he dips his head to whisper, “not so cute while you writhe on my fat cock. You’re a whore, not a saint. I know how you like it. Dirty and rough.”
“Sam, can you for once not think about your dick?” You growl. “We still need to find the monster killing the people at the church. Sadly, the only witness still suffers from amnesia.”
“That’s where you come in,” Sam purrs. “I didn’t want you to wear this iconic tunic only for fun. You are the one taking Sister Margaret’s place. You’ll fit in just fine.”
“I don’t want to play the next victim for the monster. Which by the way, you still didn’t identify, Sam. Maybe you shouldn’t have spent the last night at the bar with that blonde,” you snap at the hunter. You don’t give a shit if your blow your cover. Sam won’t get away with treating you like a random bitch he can fuck and leave afterward.
“Y/N, be honest with me,” he chuckles at your angry expression, “are you jealous because you are in love with me?“
“You wish,” you walk away, too angry to be around Sam today. Are you jealous? Of course, you are. Sam and you spent the last months together. Most of the time in the sheets. But last night, he told you to leave and didn’t return until early in the morning.
“Don’t be like that, baby,” Sam mocks you. “I know you love me. You draw hearts and imagine walking down the aisle while I wait for you to give you the ring.”
“You’re such an asshole,” you turn back around to snap at Sam. “I can’t wait for Dean to get your soul back. The moment you have it back, I’m gone. Don’t believe I stuck around for you and your limp dick. I did it for Dean because he’s a good man. Always was.”
“You want my brother?” His features darken, and you can see the change in Sam’s eyes. You take a step back. You know the look in his eyes. It’s the same one you see when he’s about to attack a monster. “Well, too bad. He can’t have you.”
“He can have me if he wants me.” It’s your turn to pay Sam back for all the times you asked yourself if he’s with some other girl. “Just like you had that pretty little thing last night.”
Sam snorts. “She was boring and wanted to go on a date first.” He casually says. As if this excuses his behavior, and how he treated you last night. “Come. I show you something nice.”
“Sam, I’m not in the mood for one of your games. Let’s just solve this case and we can go our separate ways. I stuck around far longer than I intended to.” You huff as Sam once again, ignores your protests. He grabs you by your arm and drags you toward the confession booth.
“Sam! What are you doing?” 
“Shush now, I saw someone,” he pushes you inside the booth and closes the door behind him. You gulp. You’re stuck in a tight place with Sam again. “Do you have your gun?”
“What kind of question is that Winchester? I’m not an idiot!”
“Good. Stay in here and wait for me,” he turns around to look at you. Something flashes in his eyes before he turns around to leave the booth. Not without telling you to lock it, though…
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You’re gnawing at your nails. Sam left you at the confession booth half an hour ago, and now you don’t know if you left the booth to help him or not. 
You press your ear to the door, listening to your breathing. There is not a sound, and you wonder if Sam messed with you and just left the church.
“Open the door,” Sam knocks at the door, “now.”
“Fuck, Winchester,” you curse, but unlock the door to drag Sam inside. He closes it behind him once again and releases an annoyed huff as you check him for injuries. 
“You can't wait to put your hands on me again, huh?” Sam turns around to look you up and down. “You know,” he licks his lips. His large hands shoot toward your face to cradle it for a moment, “I think you should confess your sins to me, my dear.”
“I said I’m not in the mood for one of your games,” you pout and cross your arms over your chest. “Why did you leave me in here, all alone? Did you find the monster?”
“I fucked the nuns and gave them a good spanking,” Sam deadpans. “What do you think I did? I kept you safe. The monster wasn’t here. We will find them, though.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“And you are still my whore. My brother can’t have you,” he moves his hand to your throat. “Say it.”
“Fuck you.”
“You wish I would,” he chuckles as you claw at the hand holding your throat in a tight grip. “OR maybe I should remind you of your worth. Turn around, lift your tunic, sister. I want to see your cunt.”
“No.”
“Do it or I swear I’ll drag you out of here and fuck you on the altar like I wanted to,” he warns. You know Sam is not joking. If you don’t do as he says, he’ll drag you out and have his way with you on the altar.
He drops his hand from your throat, smirking as you slowly turn around. You shove the black tunic up your body to reveal your ass to him. 
“I hate you so much.”
“No panties,” Sam moves his hand between your legs to find you dripping for him. “you’re such a whore for me. I can’t believe I found someone like you.”
You should knee his balls and just leave him there. Instead, you press your hands against the wooden wall and brace yourself for Sam’s massive cock. He’s not a fan of foreplay when he’s like that. 
“My whore.” He runs his large hand over your back, down to your ass. “Look at you, ready to have my cock. I think I’ll go for your ass today.”
You suck in a breath. It’s always a struggle to take him up your ass. Especially when he’s impatient. 
“Here?”
“Aw, my little cockslut loves having me up her ass, huh?” His pants drop to the ground before you can even choke out a moan. Sam is on you in a blink. One hand moves between your legs to slap your pussy. “Answer me!”
“YES!”
“Louder!”
“I love your cock up my ass,” he slaps your pussylips again, and again until your tender flesh throbs and you soak his hand. “I want to feel it all the time.”
“Beg me,” he slings his arm around your throat. “Y/N, I’m not asking,” Sam growls in your ear. “I want to hear you beg.”
“Please give me your cock, Father Winchester,” he bends your body to his will and rams himself inside of your leaking cunt.
“Fuck,” Sam is not gentle. All he gives you is his free hand between your legs to toy with your clit. He snaps his hips into your ass, making you cry out with every deep thrust. “I love it when cry a little.”
“Ass-hole,” you press your hands hard against the wooden wall. “I hate you so much.”
Sam doesn’t care about your words, or that you soak his cock only a few thrusts later. He batters your cunt, hoping to force another orgasm out of you to make you see that only he can fulfill your desires.
“You make the sweetest noises when I fuck you,” he nips at your earlobe, teeth sinking in your flesh to tug at it. You moan and push back onto him. Sam knows exactly which buttons he must push to get what he wants. “I’m going to fill this cunt up again.”
You hiss his name when your body sizes up. You tremble in his arms and close your eyes as your orgasm washes over you. When he fucks you like this, from behind you can pretend it’s the real Sam, not the broken version of the hunter.
“You’re such a good slut for me, Y/N. I’ll never let you go,” his words a more threat than a promise. His hips begin to stutter. “Open that pussy for me, take my cum…”
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You don’t know how you made it out of the church without getting caught. Sam’s cum ran down your thighs as he dragged you out of the place you stained with your sins.
Back at the motel, you try to make him talk to you. Sam sits across you, just staring at you.
“Sam, we still need to find the monster.” You sigh as he ignores you. “SAM! The monster.”
“It was a hoax,” he shrugs and drops his eyes to your legs. “I wanted to fuck you at a church in a confession booth.”
“There is no monster?” Your jaw drops. “You drove to the middle of nowhere, and forced me to wear a nun costume only for sex.”
“Roleplay, kitten. It’s essential to keep my dick hard.” He watches you squirm on the bed. “Be good and spread your legs. Let me see your tainted cunt.”
“Sam…can you just not be so crass all the time?” 
“I said,” he gets up from his seat to stand in front of your bed, “spread your legs and show me your well-fucked and cum stained cunt.”
“Fine,” you fall back onto the bed and spread your legs. “Satisfied.”
“Hmm…I don’t know,” he unbuckles his belt with one hand and shoves his pants down his legs. “I think you need more cum in your pussy…”
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“Please tell me you got him out,” Dean looks at Death. 
“I got his soul, and we should hurry but,” Death looks Dean straight in the eyes, “I must warn you. This soul got ripped apart, and there is not much left of the brother you knew…
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minefield-of-a-ninja · 6 months
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*images credited to Kim Kardashian Twitter, and CW photo stills
Anonymous Prompt: I really want demon dean stalking someone but I don’t know how to do that with consent? But guh just the thought of him.
Characters: Knight of Hell/Demon Dean Winchester x unnamed female character
Tags/warnings: 18+ only; this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester; stalking; exhibitionism; voyeurism; mutual masturbation; dirty talk; horny on aisle 3; fuck it, we ball
Words: 2,400
Author’s notes: #Mutual Masturbation for @jacklesversebingo
This did not turn out the way I'd planned, and it's not nearly as dark as I thought it would be. But I still love it! I hope you love it, too.
Thank you @brrose-apothecary @talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @runawaydr3amerao3 @bigmouthlass for idea bouncing, and @stusbunker for the proof read and green light.
ENNUI
For some people, the passage of time is beautiful and magical; the smallest things are to be cherished. For others, time passing reinforces our connection with the world, marking each pulse of the rhythm of life. For her, time measures the loss and emptiness of what isn’t or will ever be again. 
Today is a milestone birthday for her. The days leading up to it have been punctuated by discoveries of new lines, bulges, and other undesirable changes to her body that remind her she’s steadily failing.
Since she had just two appointments this morning, she decided to close her office early and hit the pool shared by her HOA. Her neighbors are mostly professionals without children, and it’s Tuesday; she’s sure she’ll have the pool to herself to languish in the wet heat of July in the Midwest.
That annoying fucking saying ‘it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity’, comes for her breath and doesn’t leave. It seeps into the lining of her lungs, heavy and damp, slowing and weighting each step she takes toward the south-facing bank of chairs. Once she reaches the chair she always uses, she drops her canvas tote to the concrete and shrugs out of the sheer wrap before shuffling out of her sandals.
She bends to rifle through her bag for her tanning oil, and a faint chill begins to weave its way up her spine. 
+
Dean is sitting in the front seat of the Impala, swallowing the last bite of his Biggerson’s double bacon and cheese when she snags his attention. She walks with the measured confidence that speaks more of a dare than of enthusiasm. She’s alone, and everything about her vibe tells Dean that she’s more than comfortable with that. 
She doesn’t miss a beat as she makes her way to a randomly chosen lounger in a line of another dozen exactly like it. She lets her bag slip from her grasp, and her robe floats from her straight shoulders to join it at her feet.
She’s small in stature but she looks strong and fit—thick thighs and sculted arms, a narrow waist, and curves upon curves. Dean's never cared much about short, tall, fat, thin; he likes women and sex, and if he hits it off with someone, he’s down to fuck.
But this woman is a work of art.
He watches her dig through her bag, dragging his gaze from her delicate ankles and smooth calves and thighs to the generous curve of her ass. He imagines wrapping arms around her, lifting her to carry her to... bed, most likely.
He chuckles to himself. 
She takes a seat half-upright with her legs outstretched and applies oil to her bronze skin. He wishes he could rub it in for her. He lets himself believe she can read his mind, that she's doing this for him, putting on a show just for him. 
Why not? 
When she unties her bikini top to expose her full, heavy tits and dusky nipples, he doesn’t think twice about popping the button on his jeans and pulling his hot, persistently hard cock from his boxers.
+
As she had hoped, she’s alone at the pool. The small cluster of townhouses where she lives and the complexes on either side are as quiet as any Tuesday afternoon. Other than the birds and squirrels in the trees, she’s got the place to herself.
Well, and the old black Chevy parked at the Biggerson’s next door and the shadowy figure within. She may be cynical, but she’s self-aware, and she’s going to squeeze every drop of pleasure from this bland existence as possible. 
She’s always been an exhibitionist, definitely a thrill-seeker.  She pulls the tie at her neck until the triangles, scarcely covering her breasts, fall away. Then she splashes oil across her collarbones, letting it heat and drip down and around, and between her breasts. 
She flicks her shaded eyes to the car before hefting and massaging the full mounds of flesh, then sighs and nuzzles into her lounger. She bites her bottom lip hard as she pinches and twists her puckered nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.
She notices the figure shifting in the driver’s seat. They don’t start the engine or exit the vehicle. Instead, they lift a palm to their mouth and, she imagines, they spit before the hand disappears out of her sight once more.
“Fuck,” she whispers with a smile as she settles her head back against the plush headrest, dragging one hand down her torso and pushing it into her bikini bottoms.
+
That smirk.
Dean looks around the parking lot to find no one else around—it’s as empty as her pool area. He looks back to see that she’s planted her feet on the ground on either side of her chair, her legs spread open, and one hand working rough and slow in her bikini bottoms while the other pulls at her nipples.
“Fuck yes, sweetheart. Do it for me,” Dean mutters, twisting and pumping his cock. 
He grunts and groans as she pulls her hand from her bathing suit and lifts it to her mouth. She raises her head, then, and pushes two fingers between her luscious lips. She sucks and licks her fingers, taking her time, and Dean wishes she wasn’t wearing those mirrored sunglasses. He wants to see her eyes.
Are they blue? Green? Brown?
Is she watching him like he’s watching her?
After what feels like the longest and most uncertain staring contest, she pushes her fingers back between her legs. She doesn’t immediately put her head back, though. This time, she licks her lips and grips the edge of her chair with the hand she isn't using to fuck herself.
“That’s right, good girl, show me how you like it.”
He grips the steering wheel as he pumps himself until her mouth drops open and she starts to tremble. Her gorgeous tits bounce and her hips undulate, and, before he knows it, he’s spurting hot over his fist. 
+
She slams her head back against the headrest, sweating and panting even more than she was from the afternoon sun. She feels gooey and giddy, and light. She opens her eyes and heaves a sigh of satisfaction, pitching forward to look across the pool to Biggerson’s parking lot.
A flash inside the car lights a cigarette, and she catches the first glimmer of the dark stranger. He holds her gaze for a beat, the flame’s reflection dancing in eyes so dark they appear black, before throwing the zippo closed and roaring from the empty lot.
She sighs again as she sits up straight and ties her top back in place before standing, stretching, and striding toward the pool to dive in. The water is cool and calm as she strokes from one end of the pool and back again three times before barrel-rolling to her back to aimlessly float. A light breeze ruffles the leaves overhead, making the sunlight flicker like a strobe. 
After a while, she draws a deep breath before tucking into herself to blissfully sink to the bottom of the muted 4-foot depth.
+
“Sure.” Dean nods and rolls his eyes as Crowley nags him on the other end of the line.  
Crowley gave him a job, which is what brought him to her town, and he really should do it—to calm The Mark and keep the peace with the King of Hell—but he’d rather be knocking on her front door. 
Seeing her yesterday has completely derailed his plans. It’s been years since he felt an instant connection with someone like he feels with her. Separated by the green vining through the black chain link and shade inside his car, he felt her. He wants to feel more. 
“I’ll take care of it, OK?”
He isn’t lying, not really; he’ll take the guy out, just not right now. He’s... preoccupied.
“Now, Dean. Not tomorrow, not next week-”
“Yeah. I know. I’ll get it done. Bye.”
Dean cuts the line and tosses his phone to the passenger seat then looks up just in time to see her exiting her townhome. She’s wearing those stretchy kinds of pants women wear to the gym with heeled boots and a leather jacket. Dean has no idea what the fuck that outfit is all about, but her ass looks incredible. She takes even steps with her head held high. The view from behind her is infuriating. With every stride, her ass plumps and sways, and her wide hips tease him relentlessly.
He fires up the engine and puts the car in Drive before carefully pulling away from the curb to follow her. 
He pictures what she’d look like bent over the hood of the Impala. He imagines yanking those stupid fucking pants down to her knees and kicking her heeled feet wide. She’d moan and arch her back, presenting her perfect, bare ass to him. He’d smack it, and she’d yelp, begging for more. 
She’d beg. And he’d grab a fistful of her shiny black hair to twist and squeeze as he slammed inside her over and over.
“Fuck,” he groans, pressing the heel of his palm down onto his ever-present and now throbbing erection.
He watches her toss her hair as she turns into a storefront six blocks from her front door, and Dean slides into another parallel spot and waits.
+
The drugstore door closes behind her, and she’s instantly enveloped by artificially cooled air. One of the many things she despises about midwestern summers is the necessity of air conditioning. She procrastinates turning hers on inside her townhouse every season as long as possible, but when her clients begin to complain, she gives in.  
She doesn’t waste time browsing for anything other than what she came for—eye cream. Yesterday’s existential crisis is a distant memory, surpassed by him. 
She thinks it’s silly that he’s trying to be stealthy, parking a block down the road, like she didn’t see that ridiculous car of his in front of her house before she even opened her door. This game of cat and mouse is fun for her, though. There’s mystery and suspense. It distracts her from the mundane.
She pays for her eye cream and drops it into her handbag before replacing her sunglasses over her eyes. She doesn’t know the rules of this game they’re playing, but she’s never played by anyone’s rules except her own, so it doesn’t really matter.
Back out in the heat, she pauses before heading toward the restaurant to meet a friend for lunch. Sunlight beams off the chrome bumper of his car, making her squint even with her sunglasses on. She shields her eyes and tosses him a smirk, then turns to walk the other direction.
+
She sees him now, and she saw him yesterday.
That fucking smirk of hers is the guarantee he needs. Every step she takes and every move she makes is an invitation, and he has to think long and hard about whether that’s a good thing or not. Because he’s sure that not only does she see that he’s watching her, but that once she sees him up close and personal, she’ll see who he really is.
She’s a kindred spirit. He knows this as well as anyone knows when they find that person, that connection. He doesn’t know what the connection is exactly, but he knows it’s there, and it’s undeniable.
But can she hold her own with him?
He decides to follow her with renewed purpose. 
+
After lunch, she stops at a consignment shop, the florist, and the liquor store. She wanders along the selection of wines, row by row, waiting. She doesn’t have to wait much longer, though.
“Lotta choices, huh?”
The ticking of her heart speeds up from the sound of his thick, masculine voice. It’s only been 24 hours, but she’s been on tenterhooks, willing him to approach her, and it’s finally happening.
Then she turns to face him and gasps.
He’s gorgeous—tall, broad-shouldered, perfectly proportioned, defined, angular jawline, thick eyelashes, and a mouth that has her rapidly dampening her underwear. But it’s his eyes that give her pause. 
Sparkling obsidian. She wasn’t imagining what she witnessed yesterday. Then he blinks to reveal the most exquisite jade. Her skin crackles with anticipation. He’s like no one or thing she’s ever seen before.
She wants to know everything.
“Small talk? After all we’ve been through together?” she murmurs, shifting into him like he’s a black hole that will never let her go. 
She can’t- won’t deny him.
+
He narrows his gaze and slowly tilts his head, studying her face. 
“Honey, we can talk about anything you want.” He scans her bright, whiskey eyes and the straight bridge of her nose leading to the enticing pitch of her top lip. “But I’d rather do something else with my mouth.”
Her eyelids flutter and he chuckles, teasing the backs of his incisors with the tip of his tongue. He reaches for her, tucking one hand under the back of her hair and bringing her the last few inches closer. 
“Like what?” she whispers, and he meets her trembling lips with a firm, insistent kiss. 
“I think you know,” he mutters, turning and pressing her against the selection of Australian whites.
She hums, draping her arms around his neck. “I wanna hear you say it.”
Dean drags her flush against him by her waist and twists his fist in the back of her long, raven hair. And he tells her what she wants to hear.
“I’m gonna taste every inch of you.” He mumbles against her throat and lower. “I’m gonna suck those beautiful tits and bite your tight nipples.” He pushes a knee between her thighs and lifts until his leg meets the hot, damp crotch of her thin, stretchy pants, then scrapes his teeth over the shell of her ear. “And I’m gonna lick and play with your little clit until you're begging me to fuck you. And then I’ll lick you some more.”
She grinds over his thigh. “We gonna do this here?” she breathes. 
Dean huffs a laugh as he steps away, setting her back on her own two feet. He holds her hand and her gaze. “Yeah, I know how much you like an audience. But I want you naked and I don’t wanna share you.”
She swallows and nods. “What’re we waiting for?”
Dean grins and spins toward the door, leading her out into the afternoon sun.
Dean Winchester Masterlist | MJ’s Masterlist
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deanbrainrotwritings · 2 months
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— mattel
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SUMMARY : “it’s been a few years since tfw got out of the life, dean and reader are married, etc. dean’s been a little self-conscious lately—he doesn’t look like how he used to; he’s put on a few pounds. just dean with love handles (PLEASEEEEE dean with love handles lives rent free in my mind) body (dean’s) appreciation, lovey dovey stuff like that. reader taking care of him :))))) dean smut fic!!!!!” - anon
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : Alison (OFC)
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluffy, little angst, shameless horniess, dirty thoughts, size kink ngl
WORD COUNT : 2.9k
A/N : title from an avenged sevenfold song. this fills the square for sex shop on my @jacklesversebingo card. there will be a second part, hehe. xx
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“Wow,” you looked around with your lips parted in astonishment at the hundreds of sex toys that covered the wall from top to bottom. “I’ve been missing out.” They had cute names and cute ‘mascots’ stamped on the boxes that held the toys within. You saw bunnies and panda bears and pretty colours like pink, purple, and sky blue.
Dean chuckled behind you and you turned to watch him roll his eyes as he looked to the side. You followed his gaze and you were bombarded with lewd sex books. One of them was open on a bookstand to a page with a man and woman having sex in a position that seemed too acrobatic to actually be pleasurable. You blinked, jaw dropped in shock, and turned your eyes to Dean whose cheeks turned deep red when he met your gaze.
“I’d break something if we tried this!” You exclaimed to make things worse for Dean, and took the same book that resided next to it to quickly flip through it, not nearly as excitedly as you’d hate to admit you were. “This can’t be purely for my enjoyment. Although this one looks hot! Imagine if you did tha- hey!” Dean snatched the book from your hands when two women giggled as they walked around the two of you. 
You looked up at him innocently, but mostly seductively when he pulled you into the lingerie section. He shoved the book he’d forgotten about into one of the shelves. Now you knew why he decided to take you this early in the morning. The shop was practically empty after two hours of being open. And Dean, the grumpy morning person he was, hurried you into getting dressed so you could arrive ‘early’ after checking his phone a couple of times. (You imagined he checked the hours and days the shop was less busy and it amused you further.)
“You need to take this seriously,” he murmured, his attention mostly focused on one of the sets above your head. You bit your lip to hide your smirk, but failed and grinned mischievously at him. 
“I am!” You pouted, subtly looking at the lingerie set that caught his eye. He gave you a look and you defensively crossed your arms over your chest and turned away from him. “Fine! I’ll pick something, go ask one of the women what they recommend for us, you know, something we can share-” 
“What?” Dean suddenly sounded more embarrassed and in disbelief at your request. You could feel him get closer and your skin prickled with foreshadowing excitement. 
“Oh, come on.” You turned to punch his arm gently, but he still rubbed the spot. “It’ll be cute to them, just let me look around some more… Please?” He bit his lip thoughtfully and you did the same to hold back a moan at the sight of him in a plain black t-shirt and the same sweatpants he’d abandoned the night before when he made you choke on his dick and beg for him to-
“Okay, baby.” He leaned down to peck your lips and then kissed your forehead as your stomach lurched with elation and your breath bubbled in your chest. You smiled softly at him, your dirty memory evaporating like a puddle in the middle of summer. 
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You tried to act as casually as you could after stepping out of the dressing room at the back of the sex shop and looked for where Dean was. The same woman—Alison—who’d helped you get away with your secret, winked at you as she talked Dean’s ear off about the toy you figured one of the other employees suggested to Dean. 
You carried a small bullet vibrator Alison suggested—for discrete purposes—and a lingerie set. Not the one Dean was staring at earlier, you were currently wearing it beneath your lavender dress. Alison was clearly devious and not judgmental about your request when you’d approached her about it. 
Dean visibly relaxed when he saw you and you smiled at him as he thanked Alison. Your eyes dropped to the box and you quickly read Tenuto Mini and you lifted a brow inquiringly at Dean.
“Well, if you have any more questions, I’d be happy to help!” Alison chirped and smiled wide as she walked off. You pursed your lips and watched her long brown hair sway across her back. Suddenly, you began to second-guess your daring move.
“Sweetheart.” Dean’s hand finding yours pulled you out of your flight-freeze state. 
“Hey,” you breathed and attempted to smile normally at him, “find something good?” 
His eyes slowly moved across your face and you felt your cheeks become warm. Could he read your mind, suddenly? You forced yourself to think of food and your favourite places to have lunch in order to push away your sexual thoughts. Fear is never good for you. 
“I dunno,” he murmured unenthusiastically. Your smile fell and concern wrinkled your forehead as you traced the beautiful features of his face to get a read on him. 
“What do you mean?” You laughed softly.
 “I just… don’t feel…” he trailed off. 
“Yeah?” You managed to utter past the knot in your throat.
He stepped closer to you, his gentle hand tapped under your chin in what you think was an attempt to comfort you, and opened his mouth to finally get the moment over with, but he shut it faster than you’d like. 
“Dean, what’s-” 
“I don’t feel hot… anymore,” he blurted out under his breath. 
It was like a cold bath, icy water that killed the fire of both your anxiety and your arousal. You frowned hard, feeling deeply troubled and somewhat hurt by his admission. 
“Oh…” you whispered. You watched him bite his lip and longed to be the one who sank your teeth against the plushness of them. You had no idea what to say to him, to comfort him, or even to change his mind about it. You never really considered that he felt that way about himself and part of you wondered when or why he began having those feelings. 
“Let’s just go.” He attempted to take the things you were holding, but you felt more confident now about what you were planning. Have you failed as his girlfriend? You were more than happy to prove him wrong by going through with your dirty plan. 
“No,” you asserted, “I don’t know when you started feeling that way, but I don’t agree.” 
“Let’s… not do this here,” he said quietly, his hand slid up to your elbow. A small group of people entered the store, the bell above the door announced their arrival, and you huffed petulantly. He pulled you closer and you felt agitated—by his words—and wondered how you were even going to play your game out without making him uncomfortable.
“Fine, but we are buying these.” You plucked the toy from his hands and turned away to pay for them yourself before he could argue against it. 
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The car-ride back home was tense and awkward.
You were horny, upset, troubled, and deep in thought. 
Your eyes occasionally drifted over to where Dean sat, his hands wrapped lazily around the steering wheel, legs slightly parted—relaxed. He was deep in thought himself, you could tell by the way he bit his lip and occasionally tapped his thumb against the steering wheel.  
You could feel your frown deepening the longer you stared at him and the deeper you fell into the black hole of your thoughts, the more troubled you felt. 
How could he not feel hot when you currently wanted to jump his bones and he wasn’t even trying to be sexy? But that was just you. And you had no idea how to comfort him. Or what to say. Just in general, you didn’t know what to do. Would he believe a word you said? Just because you felt it, doesn’t mean he did, too. And that was clear from the way he expressed he felt unattractive, despite the way you were clearly more than pleased to even lay your eyes on him.
He was so beautiful.
For the most part, in the past, you did feel slightly insecure. So you understood how he felt now. But once you started dating, your insecurity went down significantly. And now that the two of you were married, you didn’t doubt for a second that he thought you were beautiful. 
Nearly every morning, it was normal for you to express how displeased you were to see him walk out the door for work or having to walk out earlier than him to work yourself. How could it be that he somehow felt not hot when you shamelessly drooled over him in a t-shirt and sweats? You worshipped the ground he walked on and more than loved to be at his mercy. 
You hoped at least what happened last night would prove something to him. If the way he had you on your knees, barely allowing you to touch yourself as you took his cock down your throat meant anything to him. Or if the way he made you beg and cry for him to let you orgasm after teasing you with his tongue, fingers, and cock proved anything. You hoped the memory of all of that proved him wrong, basically. 
He was all you could think about, always.
Now, your mind was filled with ideas of what you’d do to watch him beg and whimper for you, too. To make him get grabby and rough with you from how much you teased him. To make him delirious by keeping him from his orgasm. To tease him with slow strokes of your hands, your mouth, or your pussy, whatever would make him pound you into the mattress until you came too many times to speak or think coherently. 
You wanted to feel him all over your body. You wanted to feel his warm cum inside you. To see the bruises of his fingertips on your hips. To feel the sensitivity and puffiness of your nipples from his mouth. To feel raw and tender and wet between your legs from whatever he decided to use to please you. To feel the soreness in your muscles of having been fucked.
You wanted to see the fierce possessiveness in his green eyes. To kiss the red blush on his freckled cheeks. To hear the arousing sounds of his pleasure rumbling deeply through his chest. To watch the mind-numbing pleasure contort his beautiful face. To see and feel the way his body became taut and tense as it moved with yours. 
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” 
“What?” It was when you turned to look at him that you felt your thighs relax slightly. They were slick with your arousal and you were only half-ashamed about it. You felt hotter than you already were and shifted your hips shamelessly, only to feel the Impala’s air-conditioning cool the wetness of your neediness against your cunt. Your eyes fell to his hand as it wrapped around your thigh, his fingers squeezed the sides and you instantly imagined him doing it to your neck. You felt a rapid jolt of pleasure on your clit and pressed your lips together as you caught yourself imagining the look on his face if he dared to sneak his fingers higher to feel the dampness of your arousal against your inner thighs. You attempted to remain composed. “I’m fine,” you smiled, then bit your lip to save yourself from smiling too much or not enough.
He looked at you for a few moments and your heart only began to beat faster with each passing second. Dean turned slightly to face you and you realised that you were home when you caught a glimpse of your neighbour’s lemon tree out of the corner of your eye.
What you’d give to ask Dean to steal some off the branches that hung over on your side of the yard. Just to watch his shirt ride up, to reveal his sun-kissed skin, with his sweats hanging low on his hips, his arms flexing to reach the juiciest and perfect lemons for you-
“You’re not mad are you?” Dean’s hand slid up your thigh to grasp your hip and you held your breath—hoping he’d pull you into his lap. 
“What? Of course not!” You breathed out when he squeezed gently, awaiting your response. He sighed softly in relief and smiled, his hand moved away and you frowned at the loss of his touch. “I’m… horny,” you admitted bravely and watched his eyes widen and his face turn red.
“Really?” He chuckled breathlessly. He suddenly looked more confident and relaxed. He leaned forward, brushed your hair off your shoulder with his hand, and let his nose tease your jaw as the scent of your flowery perfume made his brain foggy. 
You shivered and knew you were already too far gone to play any games with him. You felt his lips ghost against your neck, one of his hands held your elbow, and his other hand moved your hair out of the way on the other side of your face. You somehow felt wetter than before and unbuckled your seatbelt to climb into his lap.
Dean’s laugh died down to a moan when you kissed him and his hands found your waist on instinct. “I really need you to fuck me,” you breathed against his parted lips. 
He had the audacity to smirk at you and brought his hands back up to your face to kiss you again instead. He was gentler, slower than you could handle at the moment. His thumb brushed against your warm cheekbone and his fingers tangled in your hair and you wished he would pull on it—hard—as he made you ride his cock. 
You whined against his mouth, so he shut you up with his tongue sliding in between your lips to meet yours. Your arousal felt uncomfortable between your legs and your skin began to heat up even more the harder your heart pounded in your chest. You ached for him. Your body ached for him. You wanted to feel him where he’d been a million times before and your body tingled excitedly at the thought of his touch. 
You moved his hand from your face and guided it between your bodies so he could feel just how desperate and serious you were about your request. He continued to kiss you, allowing you to guide him. Your lips tingled with endless desire and he soothed your need by sucking on your lip and nibbling possessively on your reddened flesh. He gasped against your mouth and nearly choked on his whimper when his fingertips grazed your lace panties, now completely soaked in your wetness.
You pulled away slightly to catch your breath and he pushed your underwear to the side to feel your slippery folds and entrance. It was embarrassingly easy the way he slipped two of his thick fingers into your. He moaned appreciatively when you panted hard against his flushed cheek and he squirmed, biting hard on his lip.
You began to undulate your hips when he perfectly curled his fingers against your walls and thumbed at your swollen clit, keeping your wet folds spread apart with his index and pinky finger. “Make me finish, Dean. Fuck, I need to cum so bad,” you begged shamelessly, practically fucking yourself on his fingers, in his car, in broad daylight, of all things.
On any other occasion, you’d be utterly ashamed, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to end the pleasure of finally having Dean’s touch right where you needed him. He was so good at making you feel hot and bothered, and you were so ready and wet, you could even hear the abundance of your arousal with every movement of your hips. 
You released his wrist and sneaked your hand into his sweats, tried to find the waistband of his underwear, but instead you felt his hardened length ready against your fingers. You inhaled sharply, felt the way your pussy pulsed excitedly around his fingers, and brushed your own lower to feel the already-smeared precum on the tip of his cock. 
“Oh… fuck,” Dean murmured, wavering before his fingers slipped out of you, “not here.” 
You expressed your complaint with an irritated moan, but removed your hand from inside his pants despite feeling only minimally motivated to obey him. “You’re not wearing anything underneath… And I’m somehow supposed to contain myself?” 
His laugh was breathy and quiet against your mouth. “I don’t remember this being what you wore under your dress,” he attempted to change the subject with his accusatory tone. He bit his lip, gazing at you through those beautiful lashes of his when you forced yourself away from him. He wasn’t fully capable of hiding the mischief in his green eyes and you inhaled deeply, smiling, hoping to resist the urge to ask again for him to claim you in his car.
“I think we are both equally surprised at what we’ve found beneath each other’s clothes.” 
Dean’s playful grin was followed by laughter he couldn’t contain, a glorious sound that made the millions of dormant butterflies scatter in your stomach. You exhaled shakily and admired him, before making the wise choice of taking the bag containing your new merchandise before escaping the warmth of his car.
Dean called your name happily, but you ignored him when you heard the sexy rumble of his engine die. You stole the key from the pot containing yellow daffodils as the Impala’s door creaked shut with that same sound that brought hope to you whenever he came back home to you again. 
-> mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix
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little-diable · 1 year
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Twin Flame - Dean Winchester (smut)
Inspired by the song "Twin Flame" by Brennan Story. I love love love this fic, and I hope y'all will love it too. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Months ago Dean had broken the reader's heart, a desperate try to protect her. But he no longer manages to stay away, needing to find his way back to her.
Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, slight breeding kink, makeup sex, some heartbreak in the beginning, a very very happy end
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.8k words)
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Well this road don't get no shorter, I would've drove the whole thing for you, my tank down to a quarter, and it'll be gone soon
„What is up with you lately, Dean?” Sam’s voice filled Baby, worried eyes watching his brother. No reply left Dean as he kept driving on, caught in his memories like a fly trapped in the web of a spider set to kill. He was stuck, without a way out, and yet, deep down inside he prayed that he’d never be able to leave those memories behind. 
Whenever he got a moment to let his thoughts wander, he had to think of her, the one who still holds his heart in her hands, even after all these months. Being with her had been something he had never experienced before, a new sensation he longed for like a man dying of thirst dreaming of any water he could drink. Loving her had been everything Dean wasn’t, it had been sweet, easy, it had been too good to be true. 
Whenever he was lying awake at night, eyes staring at the dirty ceiling of the motel rooms he and Sam found shelter in, he imagined her laying next to him, head resting on his chest, listening to his calmly beating heart. Dean still felt her weight on him, if he closed his eyes he could feel her right there with him, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear, words that had been etched into his mind. 
“Dean?” Sam tried again, worried eyes flickering back to the dark road ahead, knowing that it would take them at least a couple more hours to make their way to the bunker. “Hey man, c’mon, talk to me, I can tell something is going on.” 
“It’s nothing, Sammy.” His voice told Sam everything he needed to know, exposing the hurt, the sadness flushing through Dean’s system. Dean’s green eyes were hazy, no longer filled with that special glint spurring him on whenever they were on a hunt, it felt as if he was no longer in the car with Sam, just a body without a soul tied to it. 
“Is it about her? Dean, you should just call her, reach out, it’s never too late.” A sharp inhale of cold air was forced into Dean’s lungs, teeth grazing his lower lip to stop his angry words from rolling off his tongue. He couldn’t reach out, couldn’t call the one whose heart he had broken, leaving her behind without looking back once, choosing the life with his brother over her, a hunter just like him and his brother – a woman Dean wanted to protect from being hurt because of him.
The cold words he had spoken to her were still ringing in his ears, how he had pushed her away, nothing but a stupid spiel Dean stuck to, in order to save her from a life filled with uneasy times, with hunts that would leave their marks on her. Dean Winchester would do everything to keep her safe, even if it meant breaking (y/n)’s heart, and his own. 
And my drink been feelin' lighter, 'cause I'm a lover not a fighter, and I seen that you caught fire, when you put me out
“Sammy, wake up, we’re home.” Dean’s rough voice filled the dark night, hand shaking his brother’s shoulder. It took Sam a moment to wake, hands rubbing his tired eyes. Slowly did the younger Winchester brother undo his seatbelt, halting his movements as he noticed that Dean wasn't moving. 
“What’s wrong?” Worry dripped from the tip of Sam’s tongue, watching his brother’s gaze flicker between the steering wheel and the phone Dean kept clinging to. 
“I have something to do, I’ll be gone for a few days.” Silence filled Baby, a silence so loud, Dean started to shuffle around in his seat, waiting for his brother to speak up or to start moving, already annoyed with the time they kept wasting just now. Dean was feeling antsy, nervousness filled his system, a sensation so unfamiliar he couldn’t help but curse it. 
“Dean,” Sam whispered his brother’s name, hand finding his shoulder. “Get her back, stop worrying about dragging her down with you, she’s stronger than the both of us combined, she’ll do just fine being around us.” 
Dean couldn’t reply, throat too tight, mouth too dry to produce any sounds, unsure what to say to the brother of his that looked at him with so much hope swimming in his pupils. Sam didn’t know much about the night where Dean had left her, he didn’t know of the words he had spoken, hurtful words that have left their scars on his and her soul, it’d be a miracle if she’d take Dean back. But he couldn’t breathe without her near, couldn’t live on without her by his side. 
……
“Absolutely not.” (Y/n)’s eyes met Dean’s desperate ones, body turned from him as she tried to close her door, without any luck, wood caught by the boot he had pushed past her entrance. A string of curses left her, jaw ticking in anger as her eyes found their way back to his, reading the pleading swimming in his pupils before she slowly took a step back, inviting him back in. 
Dean followed her through the all too familiar four walls he had once started to call his new home, the house they should grow old in, the house they should raise their children in, nothing but mere dreams that have evaporated into nothing but a hazy dream both could no longer recreate. 
“I always knew you’d step low, but turning up here is ruthless, even for you, Dean Winchester.” (Y/n) had her arms wrapped around herself, eyes not daring to leave his once. Slowly he sank down on her couch, right next to her, not giving (y/n) a chance to move away. Without thinking he reached for her hand, moving faster than she had anticipated, catching her fingers before she could move them away as if he was a flame she burnt herself on. 
“I wasn’t planning on coming here, hell, I wasn’t planning on ever setting my foot back in this house.” His whispers were torn between sounds reminding one of cries for help and a voice so quiet one could have problems understanding what he was saying. An angry huff left (y/n), glassy eyes focusing on the calloused fingertips stroking the back of her hand, pushing an all too familiar sensation through her body. She was trembling, begging for whoever was listening to relieve her from the pain she had never been able to let go of, and yet she had tried to keep on moving, without looking back once. 
“You broke my heart, you left me without an explanation, just your awful words. One day you were here, and the next you were suddenly gone. It took me a while to give my life a new meaning, to adjust to hunting on my own, but I managed just fine for the past months, Dean. Why do you have to return the second I’m finally okay on my own?” Her tears started rolling down her cheeks, dripping from her chin like a once dry waterfall regaining its impressive strength. With his other hand finding her jaw, Dean started drying her tears, heart clenching in his chest as he was once again reminded of the pain he had pushed her through. 
“I know, and I’m so sorry for being so fucking selfish, but I can’t stay away. Every second without you by my side is pure torture, you’re the only thing I can think of, no matter when or where I am. I’m sorry sweetheart, I really am. All I ever wanted to do was keep you safe, after watching you getting hurt because of me, because I couldn’t step back from a hunt we should have called backup for, I knew i had to get away from you. I can’t be the reason you get into any more danger. But as much as I hate myself for saying it, I can’t live without you, not any longer.” A heavy sigh left (y/n) as she looked at Dean, focusing on the pain filling his green pupils, on the lifeless expression tugging on his features. He was no longer the Dean she had once been with, no, he had changed, their breakup had left its marks on him, as much as it had left its marks on her. And yet she still longed for him, after all the sleepless nights she had cursed him for. 
“I need time to think this through, you have hurt me so much, Dean, so much. But I still love you, a lot. You can sleep on the sofa and we can talk in the morning.” Slowly Dean let go of her, pulling his hands away to give (y/n) enough space to rise to her feet. With one last glance thrown his way, she disappeared down the hallway, letting the door to her bedroom fall shut with a soft thud. 
And as Dean sat on the sofa he had once put together with (y/n), he couldn’t help but give into the tears welling up in his eyes. 
And I'd set fire onto, these boots running from the hard truth, that you don't need me the same way I need you
……
Dean woke with a groan leaving him, back aching from the uncomfortable position he had been sleeping in. It took him a few seconds to remember the past hours, how he had turned up at (y/n)’s place, how he had cried into his hands as she had parted from him. His green eyes shot open, finding a pair of all too familiar eyes already staring at him. (Y/n) was sitting on the edge of the sofa, wearing the same shirt she had worn hours ago. Only now did Dean realise that the shirt had once belonged to him, pushing a very welcomed heat through his aching body. 
“I made some coffee.” Her soft voice left his heart skipping beats, needing to cherish these moments should she ask him to leave in the upcoming minutes. Slowly did Dean sit up, stretching his neck and arms before he murmured a “Thank you, sweetheart”, taking the cup of warm coffee (y/n) pushed into his direction. 
“I didn’t catch any sleep, but I got enough time to think.” Dean braced himself for the words she was about to speak, teeth grazing his lower lip. His heart was racing way too fast for the early hour, and yet Dean didn’t manage to calm his system, palms growing sweatier with every second. He struggled to look into the eyes he’d see whenever he closed his at night, desperate to feel her close, pupils that were once so familiar, so loved, pupils that felt like nothing but a fever dream now. “I love you too much to push you away, but it’ll take me some time to trust you again, Dean. You have to accept that we’ll both get hurt on hunts, with or without Sammy. And you’ll accept that I’ll join you on all hunts I want to join, you won’t get a say about my decisions. Are we clear?”
He looked at her for a few more moments before his hand found the back of her neck, pulling (y/n) in for a bruising kiss. With a gasp leaving (y/n) she moved closer, arms finding their way around his neck, allowing Dean to pull her into his lap. The kiss was fuelled by their longing for one another, hearts begging them to never part ways again, unable to endure another wave of heartbreak. 
“I’ll do whatever it takes to get you back, whatever you need. I love you so much, sweetheart, I don’t want to live another day without you by my side.” Dean murmured his words against her lips, pulling her in for another kiss as his hands disappeared underneath the comfortable shirt of his she was wearing. Her breath hitched in her chest as Dean shuffled them around, pressing (y/n) against the sofa with him nestling between her thighs. Moans clawed through the two as Dean began to roll his hips, rubbing his hardening bulge against her damp panties. 
“Been dreaming about you touching me, as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn’t help but miss you, your lips, your fingers.” A soft, throaty laugh rumbled through Dean as he pushed her shirt up to expose her chest to his hungry eyes, lips finding her hardening nipples almost instantly, leaving his marks on every inch of her warm flesh. 
“Fuck, no matter what I tried, my mind always wandered back to you. I imagined the words you’d moan, how you’d wrap your fingers around my cock. Can’t believe I’m getting another chance to love you.” No longer could she reply to his words, (y/n) had almost forgotten the loving words his mouth and mind were able to create in moments like this one, set on making her feel the love his heart pumped through his system. “I need to be inside of you, it’s been too fucking long. Do you have a condom?”
“No, but I’m clean, I didn’t sleep with anybody but you.” She was almost scared to ask Dean if he had touched another woman, struggling to form the question that now rang through her mind, leaving her breathless. Dean pushed another kiss against her lips before he shuffled out of his clothes, exposing his twitching cock to her wandering eyes.
“Good, you’re mine to touch only, forever mine. I didn’t touch anybody else, just the thought of it made me sick, no matter how much alcohol I needed to try and forget about us.” With her hand finding its way back to  his neck, and with her legs slowly wrapping themselves around his hips, (y/n) chased his slightly swollen lips.
The sound of their moans leaving them in unison was drowned by their kiss, Dean moved slow at first, needing to hold back before he’d cum right there and then, no longer used to feeling her tightness wrapped around his cock. Both clung to one another as he fucked her into the sofa, with one hand placed on the arm rest and the other on her waist, leaving marks with his fingertips digging into her skin. (Y/n) arched her front against his, trembling legs not daring to loosen their hold on his waist, wondering if she was only stuck in a dream, or if Dean was truly fucking her, reminding her that she was his.
And no matter how hard I try, I'll never learn to say goodbye, you say it's okay to cry, baby that river done ran dry 
“God, how I missed feeling you, feels so perfect, so fucking perfect.” With his forehead pressed against hers, Dean added more speed to his thrusts, growing rougher as her walls fluttered around him, tensing every now and then. Dean had lost count on the amount of times he had dreamt of feeling her again, of loving her just like he had always promised he would. 
“Same, fuck, don’t ever leave me again, Dean.” (Y/n) choked on his name, hand disappearing between their bodies to circle her sensitive bundle of nerves. Both knew  that they wouldn’t be able to hold back for much longer, it felt as if they hadn’t been able to let go for months, unable to touch themselves without thinking of one another. But both had tried to make themselves cum for weeks on end, unable to do so, since their minds painted pictures too painful, pictures they could now finally leave behind.
“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart? Fuck, I won’t be able to hold on for much longer.” Another moan left (y/n) as Dean’s lips found her jaw, kissing their way down her neck. It took her a moment to reply, choking on her breaths, unable to think clear with her thoughts growing hazy. 
“Inside of me, please, Dean, fill me up.” She felt his cock twitching inside of her, forcing her to add more pressure on her clit, crying his name as she came. Dean followed her down the edge, eyes rolling back into his head as he came with a “Fuck” leaving him.
Both were heavily breathing, not daring to part with their bodies still joined, just like their jumping hearts. (Y/n) murmured his name as she combed a hand through his hair, eyes finding his, “I love you Dean, no matter what will happen between us, I belong to you, as much as you belong to me.” 
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