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carryonmywaywardwriters · 6 years ago

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Forgive Me Father - Priest!Dean x Reader

A/N: Why does this one feel so much better than LHYHM?! I need to smut more often, obviously...Anyways. I stayed over a little late so my phone could charge (I’m not home, if you didn’t know). And if I’m lucky? I’ll actually be able to pump out the next part of LHYHM before the week from hell hits. I’ve been hella motivated the last 24 hours. Until then, though? Have some more Dean porn.

As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

Part One

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. This piece especially. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Warnings: Smut. PWP. Oral (Female receiving). Fingering. Kinda public sex. Role play. Kinda dirty talk.

Word Count: Roughly 2,400

“Dean?” You walked into the empty church somewhere in a tiny town. Tennessee, much like the rest of the bible belt, had plenty to spare. Ducking under a cobweb, you glanced around in interest.

Anyone else would have been intimidated by the way the darkness surrounded you. Only pieces of light breaking through the rotted walls. Kudzu clung to pieces of old brick; the vines had already taken over half of the outside. A third of the inside. Humidity forced your clothes to cling to your skin in a way that only made everything feel that more closed in. The one thing that you feared, however, was the sight of a venomous snake or spider.

Your hunter senses remained peeled as you moved. Listening for a sign of him. Or one of the aforementioned creatures.

Sure enough, there was a creak above your head. A single ray of sunlight that had managed to sneak from above was broken for only half of a second as the shadow walked past. An intentional slip, you were sure.

Your lips curled up as you moved towards the stairs. Each sound of your feet on the steps was deliberate. Letting him know exactly where you were. Hoping the anticipation of your body moving towards him was causing his pulse to throb like it was yours.

When you got to the door, you could openly hear the movement from inside the room. The words 'Father DeNiro' were etched onto a wrinkled piece of paper over the previous owner's true name. Crude, but it'd do in a pinch.

Without missing a beat, your fingers found the bottom of the white dress he'd insisted you wore. Ensuring that it was tugged down over your chest in the best kind of way. It had looked modest on the hanger. Yet, was anything but when it was clinging around your body. If Dean wanted to play, you were more than willing. Following through with a small, timid knock the game kicked up a notch.

“Come in,” The words followed the squeak of a chair. You let your eyes move over the room as you opened the old wooden door. Dean had been a busy man.

A light mint smell filled the air- an attempt to both set the mood and deter spiders. Something you appreciated greatly. Candles lit up areas where electricity had been shut off eons ago. Making up for the areas where the sunlight couldn't quite reach. The dust had been cleared away in the room. A rag hidden under a piece of furniture, you were sure. He sat at the large, old, wooden desk. Donned in the gear you'd fallen to your knees for- literally.

“Father?” The door was shut carefully behind you. Hardly making a sound. You let your back rest against the wood, letting your eyes widen almost comically. Slipping into your role.

It didn't take much effort to get there. He was bent over, reading over some kind of paperwork. Likely notes from the hunt, or maybe even his next credit card scam. A pair of thick rimmed spectacles sat on his nose- the hell hound glasses.

Somehow, it added to the experience. Exactly as he'd planned, you had no doubt. When Dean Winchester wanted to play, he didn't miss a detail.

“Y/N.” He sat up, looking as surprised as he could muster. The dress aided in your cause. He'd known it would look good. Just hadn't been quite prepared for the way your breasts peaked out of the top. “Have a seat, please.” He motioned towards the padded chair that sat across from him. His hands reached up, lowering the glasses from the bridge of his nose; leaving those dangerous pine green eyes on you in their place.

“You wanted to see me?” Your head tipped to the side as you lowered yourself into the faded leather. A good girl would have crossed her ankles. You weren't a good girl.

Your knee came up over the other, flashing the crotch of a thin pair of white panties his way. His nostrils flared at that, but he gave no other indication that he'd witnessed the fabric hardly covering your lower half. His willpower was incredible. Determined to see this through.

“Your family is worried about you,” He answered, locking his fingers together as he leaned onto the desk. The action tugging the black material across his arms and chest just right. You saw his too full mouth twitch as he resisted the smile on his face. Noting how your tongue darted out to wet your lips at the action.

“Oh, really?” Your back leaned into the chair, resting your free limbs on the arms. The action pushed your breasts forward. Fighting back with your own tricks. “What about, exactly?” The way his eyes trailed over your chest said that it was appreciated.

“You've been heading down a bad path,” He answered, tilting his sharp jaw more into the air. Highlighting the five o'clock shadow that rested there. The confidence in his role was astounding. “Consorting with demons, summoning spirits, dabbling in witch craft...the list could go on.” You didn't flinch as the accusations came out.

“Guilty.” Was your answer. The inner minx unable to resist the possibility of punishment. “Are you going to tell me how to repent, Father?”

“A sound lashing would do you good,” He leaned back in his chair, then. Searching over your body as he thought about where he wanted to lead the day's fun.

“You're going to spank me?” Your brow lifted at that. Sounding almost hopeful in the process. It was exactly what you craved.

“Not that kind of lashing.” You understood what he meant, then. Your spine straightened visibly, earning a small smirk. “I don't believe in corporal punishment.”

“Then what do you believe in, Father?” Your knee fell off of the other one in anticipation as he got to his feet slowly. Giving you a chance to take in every piece of his predatory stance.

“A good, ole fashioned tongue lashing,” He answered. Despite knowing where he was going, your breath hitched at the way he said it. His teeth caught onto his plump lower lip; letting it slide through so slowly that you thought you were going to burst into flames. His tongue rested against the back of his teeth as he took that first step forward. “Open up, sweet heart.” Who were you to resist? Your legs widened a bit as his knees just barely brushed against yours. “Wider.” His calloused fingers gripped your thighs. Tugging them open as far as he could get them. “I think better pray, first.”

Every bit of what was happening was sacrilege. Surely Chuck, wherever he was, would be scandalized by the easy way you two fell into the act. You didn't give a damn.

“I'd like that,” You breathed out. Voice thick with longing.

He lowered himself to his knees, then. Your gaze never left him. Not even when his palms rubbed over your the apex thighs. Whispering an undecipherable little prayer over the sight that sat in front of him.

As he murmured, his hands crept higher. Reaching for the fragile lines of your panties. Your hips lifted, letting him tug them down your legs. Over your shoes and to the floor. The material was already wet, earning a small click of his tongue. He shoved the ruined underwear in his back pocket. Knowing you weren't going to need them any time soon.

“Lean back...bring your hips closer,” He ordered, pulling your leg over his shoulder when you did as instructed. Your dress was bunched up over your waist. Not that you minded in the slightest. “You're not going to like this.”

“Of course not, Father,” The breathy way you said it had him smirking before he dipped in. His nose just barely brushing against you.

He started slow. Just letting his lips lightly graze over your flesh. His fingers pressed into your thighs, holding your legs open wide. It wasn't until a small whine left you that he added more pressure. Kissing your mound deeply in a way that earned a satisfied sigh.

Softly, he began tracing through your folds with his tongue. Licked, sucked, and nipped away at your wet heat until you were trembling in the chair. Your fingers had stopped digging into the faded leather. Instead, finding their way to his hair. You tugged, earning small groans that vibrated through you. And then, the punishment truly began. The pressure increased. All mercy forgotten.

When he finally pressed his tongue into you, you thought you were going to lose it. He wasn't having that, though. Not yet.

“Don't cum,” He ordered, pulling away to meet your eyes. His own were a deeper pine than they'd been only minutes before. Lips shining and swollen from his activities. Tiny freckles still visible in the low light. Fucking perfect. “Not yet, Y/N.”

Then, he was back to work. Fucking you harder with that damned tongue of his. Torture at its finest.

You tried to focus on something else to keep the control in place. Your eyes left his face, and turned towards the open window. Looking for birds. Attempting to count the dust particles dancing in the sunlight. Hell, even hoping for a spider to take your mind off of the friction inside of you. It was useless.

Instead, your eyes closed; letting yourself feel as he pressed his fingers deep inside your waiting body. The slick sounds of your tight hold accepting his touch filled the air, leaving you breathless. He had no leniency; curling his fingers inside of you to scrape against your g-spot. Forcing a strangled moan mixed with his name to leave your lips time and time again. His tongue traced around your clit, adding pressure just to the left over and over. Drawing whimpers and his name brokenly from your mouth.

Dean knew exactly what he was doing. He brought you to the edge. Once. Twice. Only backing away when you could just feel the beginnings of your orgasm. So dreadfully sinful.

He hadn't been lying about the anguish he could inflict. Just when you thought that you couldn't take anymore, he pulled away. Pressing his lips against your thigh affectionately. Basking in the shiver of it. Forcing your eyes to open weakly.

“I think I've learned my lesson, Father,” You breathed out shakily. Your body was boneless against the chair he'd held you in.

“Not quite,” He managed, his voice rougher than it had been earlier. God, you loved the sound of it. The deep gravel of it was enough to make your insides twitch. “I think we can dig deeper, here.” Your body was pulled forward, allowing for your arms to wrap around his thick neck. He lifted you in a well practiced manner. His breathing was hard, but not from the effort of carrying you. It was from his own arousal. The clothed erection rubbed against your sensitive flesh as he moved; stopping only to throw the papers off of the desk with a single hand before letting you sit on the cool wood. “You were speaking in tongues, Y/N...” He murmured, his dept fingers lowered to his belt. Flicking it open. “I think a baptism is in order, Darlin'...” Absolute fucking blasphemy. You simply leaned back on your elbows, watching as the pants dropped to the ground.

“This is going to fix it?” Your eyes batted innocently, resting on your elbows as he freed himself from his boxers. Shoving them down to meet the black material below. He didn't bother to remove anything else. There was no need.

“Sweetheart, it'll fix anything.” He promised, low and steady as he lined himself up. He moved slow, pressing the tip in first. “Watch, Y/N...” He pulled away a bit before pushing in a little further. Each time, he got a little deeper. Stretched you a little better.

Your lip tugged between your teeth as you watched him bury into your body fully. His own eyes rested on where your bodies met. Then, he seemed to snap. His hips reared back, and slammed forward. “Dean,” You whined, giving up the rouse. Letting his true name fall from your lips with ease.

Your head tossed back as each harsh thrust rocked your body against the creaking desk. The strength left your arms, leaving you to lay flat back, legs sprawled. The position only opened up more room for Dean to move forward, and lean over you.

His pace never slowed. He grew more demanding as you weakly met each thrust. Only stuttering when he moved to tug your legs up and over his arms. Letting him shove even deeper inside your clenching heat.

“Fuck,” He murmured reverently, watching your body accept everything he had to give it. The sound of his thighs slapping against yours filled the room; echoing off of the empty walls. “You're so fucking sexy.” Before you could argue, your legs were pushed back down. Your upper body was yanked upwards so that his lips could slam into yours. Hungrily blocking your ability to whine his name, again. You clawed at his costume as his tongue moved in time with his hips. Wrapping your legs around his back to hold him close.

His pace grew unsteady. With each squeeze of your body, he grew a little wilder. More sloppy. His fingers reached down between your bodies. Rubbing at your clit mercilessly. Even then, he tipped over the edge first. Stilling as he throbbed deeply inside of you. The action was enough to set you off, whimpering as your orgasm washed through you.

When it was all over, everything was quiet again, except for your mingled breathing. Without a word, he pulled away. Tugging out the cloth he'd carried in his other pocket. In a practiced move, he cleaned you both up before tossing the rag across the room. Not caring that it was out in the open.

“So...” You crossed your legs as Dean snapped up the slacks. Tugging the dress down your thighs to cover up a little. “What brought that on, Father DeNiro?”

His eyes crinkled at the name, “This place called to me.”

“Thank Chuck for that,” You sighed out, still feeling deliciously weak. “Must'a been God's Will...” Going to Hell for your actions was a given. But, somethings were just worth it...

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon @supernaturalginger

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