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★ SUNSETS, SOMBREROS, & SURPRISES // birthday boy edition.
SYNOPSIS. you surprise dean with a getaway to mexico for his birthday, complete with heartfelt gifts, a sunset stroll, and life-changing news.
WARNING(S). birthday fluff | f!reader | implied sex | post-sex cuddles | alcohol consumption | heartfelt declarations of love I mild strong language I dean's fear of flying (related to S1 EP4 of supernatural).
-> if i missed a warning, please do let me know !
KARI'S NOTES. happy bday to baby boy <3 he deserves everything in the entire world, and i believe (in my head) he is very much alive + living his best life after giving up hunting because S15 never happened. anyway! i hope u enjoy this, which was just sitting there in my notes all day <333
DEAN WINCHESTER'S birthday had always been a quiet affair—if it was celebrated at all. most years, it was just a beer, maybe a piece of pie if he was lucky, and maybe sam would remember to say something. it wasn't that he didn't appreciate the effort when it happened; it just wasn't something he was used to. birthdays were just days, right? another year older, another year spent fighting the good fight.
but this year, you weren't having it.
you'd been planning this trip for weeks, keeping everything under wraps as best as you could. it wasn't easy; dean had a way of sniffing out surprises, especially when it came to you. but somehow, you managed to keep him in the dark.
so when you told him—casually, over breakfast—that you had booked a trip for the two of you, his fork froze halfway to his mouth.
"a trip?" he repeated, brows furrowing.
you smiled, taking a sip of your coffee. "yep. two weeks, just you and me. no cases, no monsters, no bunker. just… us."
he gave you a suspicious look. "where?"
"mexico," you said, watching his reaction carefully.
dean blinked. "mexico?"
"mexico," you confirmed, grinning.
he set his fork down, leaning back in his chair. "and how exactly are we getting there? because i know baby's not built for that kinda trip."
you tried not to laugh. "we're flying."
his face immediately twisted into a grimace. "oh, hell no."
"dean—"
"nope. not happening. i'm not getting on a plane."
you sighed, reaching across the table to take his hand. "you survived it once, didn't you? besides, this isn't a hunt. it's a vacation. you have me with you the whole time, and i promise, nothing's gonna happen."
he stared at you, his jaw clenching like he was trying to come up with another excuse. but you gave him that look—the one that always made him cave—and he finally sighed, muttering, "fine. but if i die, i'm haunting your ass."
you laughed, squeezing his hand. "deal."
the flight itself was… tense. dean was on edge the entire time, gripping the armrests like the plane was about to fall out of the sky. you spent most of the flight holding his hand, rubbing soothing circles into his palm, and distracting him with small talk. by the time you landed, he seemed a little less tense, but he still muttered something about never doing this again as you grabbed your bags.
but once you stepped outside and felt the warm sun on your face, all of his complaints seemed to melt away. the two of you made your way to the hotel, checked in, and by the time you reached your room, dean was actually beaming.
the room was beautiful—large windows overlooking the ocean, a king-sized bed, and a balcony where you could hear the waves crashing in the distance. it was perfect.
"damn, sweetheart," dean said, dropping his bag and whistling low. "you really went all out, huh?"
"only the best for you, birthday boy," you teased, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind.
he turned in your arms, pulling you close. "you didn't have to do all this."
"i wanted to," you said simply, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him.
the rest of the evening you both spent it enjoying each other. after some steamy sex that left both of you tangled in the sheets, you laid together, the warm breeze from the open balcony door cooling your skin. dean had an arm draped over you, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your shoulder as you rested your head on his chest.
"this is nice," he murmured, his voice low and content.
"yeah," you agreed, your fingers brushing over the ridges of his abs.
you had two surprises planned for him, but you decided to start with the one you knew he'd love.
the next evening, after a lazy morning spent in bed and a quick swim in the hotel pool, you and dean got ready to head out to a restaurant you'd researched weeks ago.
dean had noticed you staying up late in the bunker, your laptop open and your brow furrowed in concentration. he'd assumed it was for a hunt, maybe some research sam had roped you into. but now, he realized it had all been for this.
as you stepped into the restaurant, dean was immediately greeted by a group of staff who placed a large, brightly decorated sombrero on his head. you'd called ahead, asking if they could do something special for his birthday, and they'd certainly delivered.
he looked ridiculous, but the grin on his face was worth it.
"you planned this too?" he asked, glancing at you as he adjusted the sombrero.
"of course," you said, smiling. "it's your birthday, baby. i wanted it to be special."
the two of you spent the evening laughing, eating some of the best food dean had ever tasted, and him having a few drinks. you even ordered for him in spanish, your fluency leaving him both impressed and—if the look in his eyes was anything to go by—more than a little turned on.
"damn," he said after you helped him pronounce something on the menu. "never thought i'd find spanish sexy, but here we are."
you laughed, shaking your head. "glad i could surprise you."
later, as the two of you walked along the beach, the sun dipping below the horizon in a blaze of orange and pink, dean seemed more relaxed than you'd seen him in years. he was barefoot, his flip-flops dangling from his fingers, and his other hand was firmly clasped in yours.
you wore a long white summer dress, the fabric fluttering in the breeze, and dean couldn't stop stealing glances at you.
"you look beautiful, darlin'," he said softly, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.
you smiled, your cheeks warming. "you don't look so bad yourself, my love."
when you reached a pair of deck chairs, you both sat down, dean immediately pulling his closer to yours. his hands rested on your thighs, his touch warm and grounding as he stared out at the ocean.
you took the opportunity to pull out the first gift—a small envelope with his name written on the front in your neat cursive.
"what's this?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as you handed it to him.
"open it and find out," you said, grinning.
he carefully tore it open, pulling out the letter and saw tickets inside. his eyes widened as he read the letter, and by the time he got to the tickets, his jaw had dropped.
"no fucking way," he breathed, staring at the words 'Metallica VIP' printed on the tickets.
"yes way," you said, laughing.
"you're serious?" he asked, looking at you like he couldn't believe it.
"dead serious. we're going as soon as we get back."
he was quiet for a moment, his eyes misting over as he looked back at the tickets. then he set them down and pulled you into his arms, kissing you all over your face.
"you're amazing, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.
you laughed, brushing a tear from his cheek. "you deserve it, dean. you deserve everything."
he shook his head, his smile soft. "i don't know what i did to deserve you."
you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "you're you. that's enough."
after a moment, you pulled back, reaching behind you for the second gift.
"there's one more thing," you said, your voice growing a little shaky.
dean frowned slightly, his brows furrowing. "what more could you possibly—"
you held out the pregnancy test, your hands trembling slightly.
"i'm pregnant, baby," you said softly, your eyes searching his face.
for a moment, he just stared at you, his mouth opening and closing like he was trying to find the right words. then a slow smile spread across his face, and he let out a choked laugh.
"you're serious?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
you nodded, tears streaming down your face. "yeah. i'm serious."
he let out a shaky breath, pulling you into his arms and spinning you around. you squealed, clinging to him as he laughed, his joy infectious.
when he finally set you down, he cupped your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips.
"thank you," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "thank you for… everything."
you smiled, resting your forehead against his. "happy birthday, my love."
that night, you celebrated with champagne — he drank one for you and himself — laughter, and the quiet promise of a future filled with love.
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# ✸ ׂ ♡ ݂ 𝐊 writes.#happy bday to deano <3#dean winchester#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x fem reader#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester angst#dean fluff#dean x fem reader#dean x female!reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean winchester drabble#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester imagines#dean winchester smut#supernatural#supernatural x female reader#supernatural fluff#supernatural smut#jackles#jensen ackles fluff#dean smut#supernatural dean#dean supernatural
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When He Slides In...
Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 2768
Summary: ...And says “Fuck, I missed you.” After a hookup with the (in)famous Dean Winchester, you figured that would be the end of it. Too bad you could never seem to get him out of your mind. People always told you that you got attached too easily. And they were right. You were just another notch in his belt. He couldn’t possibly remember you...
Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, no use of Y/N, she/her pronouns, femme nicknames (sweetheart, pretty girl), reader is AFAB, oral (f receiving), P in V sex, PWP (Plot? What plot?), pining, pure filth because I have no chill, no beta we die like men
A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for far too long. This was the title of an audio I listened to, and the line lives in my head rent-free. Plus I figured this would be a great birthday gift for our one and only boy! Thanks to my bestie for reminding me of this momentous day!
The first time you met the Winchesters – and subsequently ended up beneath the eldest – was when you had called for some back up with a vampire nest you had found in a rural town in South Dakota. It was a routine hunt, but the nest had taken up residence on a farm with far too many places to be ambushed from. Thankfully, there was enough practiced experience between the three of you that the hunt only left you with several bruised ribs, Dean with a too-close-for-comfort almost bite, and Sam with a bloody gash cutting across his cheek. All in all, it could’ve been much worse. You had joined the two of them at a bar in town, eager to take a well-deserved moment of reprieve. And you left the bar with Dean. Just Dean.
After you parted ways, you fully accepted that it would be a one night stand, and your paths would never cross again.
Fate had different plans for you.
It was a standard haunted house case that pulled you to a small town in the middle of bumfuck, Iowa. Something something father killed his family when he was discovered having an affair before turning the weapon onto himself. And now he was killing other cheaters in the town. You’d have been tempted to leave him be – was he really doing harm by getting rid of those kinds of people? – if it weren’t for the fact that he would go after the affair partner as well who wasn’t always aware of just who they had gotten in bed with. It was a cut and dry case. Except you couldn’t find where the damn body had been buried, so you were having a hell of a time salting and burning the bones. The extended family had been so ashamed of what their son had done that they had buried him in an unmarked grave on the outskirts of town.
You had just about hit the end of your rope when two very familiar Winchester boys rolled into town in a sleek Impala that purred like a kitten. And there he was. The one and only Dean Winchester, all swagger and bravado, and fuck, had he gotten hotter? Seriously, God hadn’t played around when chiseling him from marble.
“Hey, sweetheart, long time no see.” He grinned at you, his voice rumbling.
Leave it to the grave-desecration-brothers to pinpoint where the cheater had been buried. It took several hours in the library pouring over a convoluted family tree before the three of you eventually found a living descendant and another hour talking with her and convincing her to let you guys go through old family books she had stored in her attic. Cheater’s sister happened to jot down which grave was his in her diary. Bleeding heart saved the day. You had ‘cheers’ed to that before knocking back your beer and excusing yourself from the bar with Dean in tow.
Despite the long span of time you had spent apart, Dean was still familiar to you. The way his lips felt as he kissed you. The way your body seemed to slot against his just right. You couldn’t forget how he felt. Not when every touch of his had seared your skin and left imprints in its wake. Dean had ruined you for anyone else. Because he didn’t just leave his marks on your body. He had carved out a piece of your heart and taken it, leaving a hole in it that ached with every beat. Dean was a heartbreaker, and you were just another name on a long list of casualties. But you were on that list, and you lied to yourself, convinced yourself that it was good enough for you.
“Dean,” you sighed against his lips, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“Glad you didn’t forget me, sweetheart,” he said quietly, kissing you again. You could never forget him. Could never forget the way his hands felt as they teased at the hem of your shirt before sliding up your side. Could never forget the scent of leather and bourbon and cedar that encompassed him. Could never forget the way he looked at you and you let yourself believe just for a fleeting moment that maybe, maybe, you were something more than a hookup in his eyes. Dean’s touch was a flame, and he was going to kindle your entire world to ashes. And as long as he kept looking at you like that, you would let him. Over and over and over again.
He trailed kisses along your cheek, across your jaw, and further down the side of your neck. His lips left your skin just long enough to slide your shirt over your head and make quick work of the clasp of your bra. He sucked a bruise just below your collarbone then soothed it with his tongue before dipping lower. Dean was attentive, leaving no part of you physically untouched but all of you still wanting. His nose dragged between the valley of your breasts, leaving another mark there.
“You’re gorgeous; I hope you know that, sweetheart,” he murmured, and your response died in your throat as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, toying with it with his tongue.
There was so much you couldn’t say. Couldn’t tell him how much more you wanted from him. It was silly. You barely knew him in the bedroom and even less outside of it. But there was an undeniable spark between the two of you that you couldn’t shake. An unspoken pull. Something that kept the two of you in the other’s orbit. You were doubtful Dean felt it. It was just you and your silly little heart looking for anything to quell the loneliness that threatened to consume you.
Dean moved lower, deftly ridding you of the last of your clothing so you were bare for him. And then his mouth was on you, stubble scratching lightly, and all thoughts were wiped from your mind in an instant. His fingers dug into your thighs, all lips and tongue on your clit and folds and fu-uck. You carded your fingers in his short hair, nails scratching against his scalp. He groaned, a low and guttural sound that sent vibrations through your core, and your answering cry was breathless, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his head or the bed sheets or anywhere. The sigh you let out when he slid a finger in you must’ve unraveled some of his self control because a second one joined it none too soon. He curled them, and your back arched.
If you could form coherent thoughts, you might have had the wherewithal to wonder about when or where or how he learned his talents. But such wasn’t the case as everything tightened. Your tension collapsed into a litany of moans and gasps, and Dean was a solid presence between your legs. He was a maestro, and you were his instrument. He plucked at your strings until you came shuddering around his fingers, your nails biting into his skin. He coaxed you through your release, gently sucking and keeping a steadying hand on your leg. Your head fell back against the pillow, chest heaving. There were too many words that threatened to be the next to spill from you, so instead, you pulled Dean up by the hair and put every word you wanted to say to him in a kiss. It was deep and longing and you tried so hard to tell him just how lucky you felt that you got him for the night with it. If that’s all you ever got of him, it would be enough. It wouldn’t really, but you could delude yourself long enough to convince him.
He met your passion, one hand tangling in your locks and the other slipping beneath you to press against your lower back to provide counterpressure as he rolled his hips against yours. Your jaw went slack as you felt the length of him pressed against you, hot and heavy and hard beneath his jeans. You tugged at his shirt, desperate to get more skin to skin contact. Gasoline coursed through your veins, and if Dean didn’t set you ablaze this very instant, you were sure you would spontaneously combust. Thankfully, Dean was a smart man. He picked up on your desperate plea and stripped out of his shirt before briefly standing up to strip out of the rest of his clothes.
As he looked down at you, his green eyes met yours, and you could see him searching for something. Acceptance? Approval? Adoration? All three? You’d give him all of those. Whatever it was, you could only hope that he found it as you looked up at him, sprawled out on the bed and propped up on your elbows. You took your time taking him in. The cut of his jaw. The broad expanse of his shoulders. The tattoo that sat just above his left pec. Your gaze dropped lower, and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip before dragging your eyes back up to his again.
“Are you waiting for an invitation?” you ask, a sly smile tugging at the edge of your lips.
Dean pounced. He yanked you into a kiss, messy and primal, crushing you into the bed with his weight. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down the length of his back, needing to leave a mark of your own on him so maybe he’d remember you for more than a fleeting night. Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound ringing in your ears. There were no barriers left between you two, and you arched your body up into his, looking for all the contact you could possibly find. His hand dropped down to your ass and pulled you against him, his cock frotting against the junction of your hip. You raked your fingers in his hair and pulled it, pressing your mouth to the side of his neck and biting and sucking there until Dean was cursing under his breath.
“Hold on, sweetheart,” Dean bit out. You released him, eyes locked onto the angry red mark you had left. He fumbled with his discarded pants for a brief moment before pulling a condom from the pocket.
“Smart man... smarter than me."
It was good that he had his wits about him because you were more than ready to throw caution to the wind. You were a hunter. You risked your life every day. What was one more risk? You knew you’d be thankful when your brain wasn’t drowning in lust, though. He rolled the condom over himself before kneeling between your legs again. He grabbed the backs of your knees and spread your legs wide, lifting your ass off the bed before settling it on his thighs. Dean took a moment to guide his cock into place. His gaze met yours again, waiting and pleading. You gave him a subtle nod.
Dean rolled his hips, sinking into you with slow thrusts. You audibly sighed as he bottomed out.
“Fuck, I missed you.” He said your name, reverent and sincere. He said your name. Not sweetheart. Not baby. Not some nickname he probably used to mask the fact that he forgot the name of the woman under him. Your name. You whimpered.
“Dean... I missed you too,” you admitted. But he didn’t understand the depths of your words. He couldn’t. He kept a hand on your knee, keeping you splayed open for him. You braced a hand on the headboard and turned your face aside, biting the knuckle of one of your fingers and panting into it.
“No, no, pretty girl. Keep your eyes on me,” he said, leaning forward to grab your chin and guide your eyes back to him. The shift caused him to sink just a little deeper into you. You squeaked when your eyes met green ones. There, behind the lust and desire, there was Dean. And for a moment, you could see the vulnerability there. The lonely man who wanted to be needed. Needed to be wanted.
“Move, Dean. I need you.”
And that’s all it took. Dean surrendered to what felt good and snapped his hips, pounding into you, thrilling at the way you moaned and moved with him and accepted every aggressive stroke like you were made for it. He lowered his body and leaned forward onto his hands so he could drive himself deeper into you. His hands found yours, and you entwined your fingers with his. He pinned you to the mattress, caging you beneath him. You shouted in response, your legs clenching against Dean’s sides and the drag of his cock setting every nerve alight.
“There you go, pretty girl. You can take it. You can take me. I know you can.” His words were fuel for the inferno that threatened to devour you. You were trembling. Aching. He was the musician; your body was the instrument. You were a violin string. You were tuned too tight. You were breaking.
Your groans and cries turned to fervent whimpers, and you fought against his hold as your release danced just beyond your reach. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Dean clicked his tongue, commanding your attention. You stared up at him, eyes wide and bright, drinking in the sight of him as though it would be your last.
“Please,” you begged. Your voice sounded so utterly wrecked in your own ears, but you didn’t care. You had abandoned your dignity long ago. “Dean, please. Need more.”
“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He let go of one of your hands, and his thumb found your clit, drawing tight circles around it. “Come on, pretty girl. Need you to come on my cock.” His breaths mingled with yours, and your answering cry was high and thready as you lost yourself in him. Your voice, so needy and desperate, must’ve been enough to be Dean’s undoing because the hand holding yours tightened as he rutted into you until he came in hot, throbbing pulses that sucked the energy out of the rest of his body. You clenched around him, and he let out a strangled groan as his whole body shuddered above you.
He pressed his forehead against yours, brushing stray hairs out of your face with his free hand. His other still clasped yours tightly, fingers still laced together. You leaned up to kiss him, and your lips met in a tender way. An unburdened, unhurried kiss. A kiss for the sake of kissing. You could’ve stayed like that forever, but all too soon, Dean broke the kiss and peeled himself off of you, his hand leaving yours. He stood, moving to discard the condom before grabbing a towel from the bathroom. You sat up, watching his retreating back and taking pride in the red lines your nails had left in their wake. You could only hope he would remember you.
When he returned with a damp washcloth, he coaxed you back against the pillow as he wiped the sweat from your brow, muttering sweet nothings all the while. There was silence between you for a long while, and you realized too late that your time with him was coming to an end. He had set you aflame, and now you would have to find a way to rebuild. But you’d do it all again if Dean asked it of you. But when he spoke, you hadn’t expected the words that came out of his mouth.
“Do you maybe wanna... you know... stay?” he asked quietly. “For the night,” he added. You swallowed.
“Um... isn’t Sam due back sometime... soon?” Why were you making excuses? This opportunity didn’t even show up in your dreams. Dean wet his lips, not quite meeting your gaze.
“Well... not to be presumptuous or anything... but I might have told him to get his own room for the night.”
“Oh.” Oh. He had planned on you staying with him? You were done for.
“Yeah... Uh, nevermind. You don’t have to. You’ve probably got somewhere better–”
“I’d love to stay,” you blurted out. “With you,” you clarified, as if it weren’t obvious. The smile that split across Dean’s face was blinding, and it became your new life’s mission to do whatever it took to see it directed your way time and time again.
“How about I order us some food? We can watch a movie and cuddle?” And really, you were only human. A request like that from Dean Winchester was as easy to fulfill as breathing.
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#No use of Y/N#no beta we die like men#dean winchester x you#dean winchester#spn#supernatural#dean fanfiction#dean winchester fanfiction#supernatural x reader#reader insert#X reader#jensen ackles characters#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic series#dean winchester smut#dean smut#supernatural smut#dean winchester birthday#pining#pwp#pwp fics#one shot
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Let Me Take Care of You
Summary: It's Dean's birthday and you want to take care of him. What better way than a little birthday sex? ;)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, mention of Sam, no use of y/n.
A/N: I wanted to post this yesterday for Dean's birthday but got sidetracked. Here it is. Not edited because I'm lazy. I personally think I'm horrible at writing smut, but here we go. Enjoy ;)
Warnings: Smut, Oral (m receiving), Fingering, Sub!Dean kinda, Unprotected sex (condom use is important though), p in v, rough sex, throat grabbing, Dean being tied up, I think that's all?
Minors DNI. 18+ Only.
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Today is Dean's birthday, so you had something special planned for him. Sam, was going out for the night so it would just be the two of you in the bunker. You wanted to take care of Dean on his birthday. Dean loved having control in bed, but you wanted to test what he would do if you took control for a bit.
You knew Sam was leaving soon so you went to your room that you shared with Dean. You stripped off your clothes and put on one of Dean's flannels which is long enough to cover your naked body, leaving the top few buttons open, enough to barely expose your breasts.
You sat at the edge of the bed with your one leg crossed over the other as you waited for Sam to leave and for Dean to come looking for you. It didn't take long before the door to your room opened.
"Hey sweetheart Sam just lef-" Dean began saying, but his jaw practically dropped at the sight of you. His mouth quickly formed into a smirk, "Well...happy birthday to me.." he said lowly as he walked over to you.
You stood up cupping his face and pulling him into a heated kiss.
"Lay down," you said to him, "let me take care of you."
"Yes ma'am," he smirked and he laid down on the bed.
You crawled over him, straddling his waist as you pressed your lips to his again. his tongue pushed against your lips begging to be let in, so you parted your lips allowing his tongue to dance with yours.
You broke the kiss, tugging at his shirt to signal him to pull his shirt off.
"I'm feeling kind of lonely now," he said tugging at the flannel that covered your body.
"In time, baby," you smirked. You trailed down his body, gently sliding your hand down his chest and stomach until your reached his belt of his jeans. You undid the belt, pulling it off as well as undoing his jeans.
You took the belt and moved up toward his head.
He raised an eyebrow at you, "oh, this is how it's going to be hmm?" he asked.
"I told you, I'm taking care of you tonight. It's your birthday, today is all about you," you said as you tied his hands to the bed post, "so, you're going to do what I say," you smirked. He let out a low growl, his dick now straining to be freed from his jeans.
Once he was tied up, you moved back down his body, pulling his jeans and boxers down off his legs. His dick was hard and already leaking with precum.
You took the base of him in your hand pumping lightly, making his head tilt back as he let out a breath.
You licked the tip, making sure the clean up every drop of precum leaking from it, before taking his whole length into your mouth
He hissed at the sensation, "Fuck, sweetheart" he moaned out as his hips bucked up a little into your mouth.
You bobbed your head up and down on him, taking him fully, ignoring the tears swelling in your eyes as you desperately tried to ignore your gag reflex.
Dean's breathing quickened, he pulled on his arms trying to free himself from the belt around his wrists. He needed to touch you, to feel you. But one thing hunting as taught you, is how to tie a good knot.
"Baby girl, I need to feel you, please" he begged.
You hummed a little as you continued working his dick with your mouth. Dean's eyes closed as his head rested back. He looked back down at you watching you pleasure him. He sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth.
"Fuck I'm close" he groaned, still trying to free his hands. He kept moving his hips, so you held his hips down. You stopped what you were doing "Stay still, and maybe I'll untie your hands," you smirked at him.
He let out a groan as he forced himself to stay as still as he could.
You continued what you were previously doing, but you began unbuttoning his flannel that was still around you.
"Fuck baby girl, you better untie me soon" he groaned watching you toss his flannel to the ground, his eyes exploring every inch of your naked body.
You were also getting impatient, you needed to feel him. He was driving you crazy with the noises he was letting out. You let his dick out of your mouth with a little pop from your lips and you leaned up to him kissing him roughly. He groaned into your mouth as you reached up and undid the belt that held his hands up. In an instant his hands were on your body, one hand cupping your breast as the other pulled you over his lap straddling him.
"You're so fucking beautiful" he mumbled into your kiss
"Fuck me, Dean" you said.
"I thought you'd never ask" he smirked as he reached between your legs and lined his dick up with your entrance. He quickly thrusted up into your already soaking wet core.
Your head immediately fell back as a moan dragged off your lips.
Dean began kissing and sucking the skin on your neck as he thrusted up into you.
"You feel so fucking good, taking me so well baby girl, fuck you're so perfect," he said.
He turned you over so you were face down on the bed and he was behind you. He pulled your hips up and quickly pushed back inside of you.
"Oh fuck, Dean" you moaned out, gripping onto the sheets as his hips met yours at a fast pace.
He pulled you up so your back met his chest as he continued to fuck you senseless. His hand made its way around your throat as his other hand reached down to your clit, rubbing quick circles over it.
"Don't stop please don't stop" you moaned as he turned your head toward him, giving you a sloppy kiss as he kept the same pace thrusting up into you and circling your clit.
"You gonna cum sweetheart?" he asked "cum for me baby girl, cum on my cock."
The pleasure inside you exploded as you clenched around him, yelling his name and soaking his dick with your juices.
"That's it baby girl" he said lowly in your ear
He let you back down so you were face down on the bed as he continued to theust into you a few more times before his dick twitched inside of you. "Fuck" he moaned out your name as he spilled his seed inside of you.
He pulled out of you slowly, going over to the bathroom, he wet a cloth with warm water and came back out to you on the bed.
"Just gonna clean you up" he said as he gently wiped you up.
He cleaned himself up and then laid back down in bed next to you, pulling you to him. You laid your head on his chest, looking up at him with a small smile, "Happy birthday, De," you said.
"Thank you sweetheart," he grinned a little, "best birthday ever," he leaned down kissing your head. The two of you spent the rest of the night in each others arms, drifting off into a peaceful sleep.
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A/N: I'm so bad at smut I'm so sorry😂 But I had this idea and it was Dean's birthday yesterday soooo, this is what came of it. Happy belated birthday to my favorite fictional character in the entire world🥳❤️
Tags: @ambiguous-avery
#dean winchester x f!reader#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x reader smut#dean x reader smut#supernatural#spn#spn smut#supernatural smut#jensen ackles#jensen ackles smut#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester#jensen fucking ackles#dean#winchester#kamiswriting#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean x you#dean winchester x you
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Birthday Spice (Dean x f!reader)
DESCRIPTION: Its Dean's birthday so you decide to help him celebrate properly
A/N - Happy birthday Dean! Story has not been proof read yet
WORD COUNT: 1949
One Shots / 'You Saved Me'
WARNINGS: established relationship, porn with very little plot, sub Dean, dom reader, creampie, unprotected p in v, hair pulling, oral (m recieving), I will add more if I need too after I proof read it
DISCLAIMERS
This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand
This story is based after the events of my series 'You Saved Me' (a Supernatural fan fiction) which I'd recommend reading before or after reading this
Your eyes keep glancing towards the clock on the wall. You were in your pub downstairs. You had already put the sign up to say that you were closed however you had a few customers still in. Enjoying the last of their meals and drinks. You couldnt throw them out. Well... It was your pub so you techinacly could but it seems a little harsh.
Although Dean had stopped hunting full time he still enjoyed going and getting his hands dirty every now and then. Today was one of those days. He was on a hunt with Sam. He said he'd be back about 8 tonight. The clock currently showed 7:42 and you really wanted to make sure everything was ready for when he got back. About ten minutes pass. You assume the last customer got the hint as you not so subtly were staring at them. Giving you eight minutes to get ready. Not that you expected Dean to be early.
You wear your clean silm dressing gown. Eyes glued to the door. Waiting. Watching. Hearing the door downstairs click open. The distant voice of Dean probably saying goodbye to Sam. A few moments pass. The door to your mian home click open you see Dean enter. You stand up. Going to the end of the hallway. Arms keeping the silk material wrapped around you. Dean smiles as he meets your eyes.
"Hey Kat" he shuts the door behind him. Kicking his shoes off and taking off his denim jacket. HAnging it up. He turns to look back at you. He wasnt a fussy man but you staying silent was unusual. Normally youd be showering him with affection. Especially during days you hadnt seen him. Once his eyes go back to yours you take a small breath. Moving your hands you let the silk of your dressing down fall to the floor.
Revealing your red wrap around bra tied in the front with a bow. A matching red thong. Little red garter belts wrapped around your thighs. Keeping up your white net stockings. His eyes grow wide. Going straight to your chest. He coughs slightly. Bringing a hand to the front of his jeans as he tries adjusting himself.
"You- you umm... you look good. Is this- I dont recognise this?" You walk down the hallway space. Talking as you do.
"I heard that it was your birthday today. So I wanted to surprise you with a little gift". You get to him. Placing your hands on his chest before pushing them up. Over his shoulders. WRapping your arms around his neck. He only nods in repsonse. His hands instincitvly going to your hips. You go on your tiptoes. Brushing your lips over his as you keep contact with his eyes.
"Do you like your present?"
"Very much"
"Do you want to unwrap it?" you smile. Moving a hand from his neck. Gently taking one of his from your hip. Placing it to the bow resting kindly between your boobs.
"Fuck" he mutters. "Please". You smile. Feeling him pull the fabric. Letting your chest be free. Hes seen your boobs so many times. He can never get over how perfet they look. His eyes go down. Staring at them. "What- What about the girls?" He asks. Obviously not wanting to start something he'll have to finish early due to your daughters.
"Dont worry about them. They arent here tongiht". You bring a hand round to gently cup his cheek. "Im all yours". With that he crashes his lips to yours. Hands going to your hips as he lifts you up. WRapping your legs around his wast as he spares no time making his way t the bedroom. He oh so carefully places you to lie on the bed. He lips go from yours to your neck. Hands coming up and kneeding your bare breasts. His mouth trailing down. Taking one of your nipples between his soft lips.
You give a soft sigh. Hands going to his hair. Rutting your hips aganst him. You give into the feel of his mouth and rough hands for a few minutes. Feeling him suck and pull at your breasts. Tugging his hair you hear his mouth leave your nipple with a soft plop. Bringing his lips back to yours. Mouths exploring one another as he move over you. You wrap your legs around his waist. pulling him close to you. Pushing against him so he sits up. Your legs still around his body as he sits on the bed. You move your lips from his. An inch between you.
"Lie down". You quietly order him. He doesnt hesitate. Quickly lying don on the bed. You kneeling beside him. You run your hand up his chest. His eyes watching you with anticipation. You bring both your hands to the bottom of his shirt. Pulling it up and over his head. Tossing it onto the flor. Your hands cold against his warm skin. He flinches slightly. A soft grunt coming from his lips as you place your icy hands onto his stomach. Smiling down at him as he looks up at you. Arching your fingers to drag the blunts of your nails down his torso.
Getting to his jeans you are slow as you undo his belt. Even slower when you unbutton and pull down the zip of his jeans. Taking the tops of them and pulling them down the lenght of his legs. It takes a lot of strenght to not moan as you see his hard cock through his boxers. Biting your bottom lip. Hand going and wrapping around his length. Squeezing it.
"fuck" he mutters. His head titlign back before going back to watch you. "Please Kat". You smile. Leaning down as you gently kiss him. Hand rubbing him through the fabric. Smile growing as yo feel soft grunts escape into your mouth.
"Do you want my mouth?" you kiss his lips. Eyes still on his as you ask the questions. "Or my cunt?" His breath hitches. Eyes darting to your lips.
"Both? Please" a light smirk twisting the corner of his mouth. "It is my birthday after all". You give a small chuckle. Even when he was putty in your hands he still would wear that cocky grin. You kiss him again. Then his neck. Chest. Down his torso. Kissing the waistband of his boxers. Delicate hands going to the tops of them. Pulling them down his legs. Forgetting them on the floor with the rest of his clothes. His hard cock on full display.
You take it in your hand. Starting to fist his dick. He shudders out a breath. You move down the bed. Able to bend so you can easily tale him into your mouth. You sraddling one of his legs as you gently kiss his tip. Eyes glancing to his pretty face. His eyes fluttered shut as you slowly start to tease him. Kissing along the side of it. Soft. Gentle. Licking a stripe up it before gently planting a kiss to the tip. You wrap your lips around him. Lowering yourself down onto his length. going until you feel it hit the back of your throat. Your nose hitting his pelvis.
"Fucking helll" he moans. His hand going straight to your hair. Gripping it harshly. You humm around him. Starting to bob your head up and down onto him. With his help of his hand he sets a pace for you. His hips meeting your mouth in a steady thrust. Matching your speed. Ears filled with the sound of him making contact with your throat and his delicious moans. You can hep but start to grind your core against his leg. Only slightly. Enough to try and ease some of the friction that had appeared between your thighs.
You could feel him twitch under you. His lenght starting to twitch in your mouth. He lets out a moan. The hand firmly in your hair pulls you from him. A trail of spit connecting the two of you. His breathing is heavy. Eyes shut. You wipe at your lip with your thumb. Your slight movement making his drop your hair. You move to the end of the bed. Shimmying your underwear off. Climbing back onto him. Sitting a top his thighs.
His eyes flick open. Hands going to your hips as he meets your gaze. "You want to cum inside me?" He nods. Eagerly looking up at you. You smile. Leaning over him as you plant a gentle kiss to his lips. Moving back up. You go up onto your knees. Steadying yourself onto his stomach. His hands help keep you balanced as you line yourself up to his hard lenght. One of your hands wraps around it. Easily finding your hole with his tip. Slowly lowering yourself down onto his girth.
His eyes focused on where the two of you meet. His breathing hitches as you rest on him. SMiling at the feeling of him fully inside you. Like your body is meant for him. You start to move. Leaning forward onto his stomach as you start to slowly glide your body up and down onto his. A drawn out moan leaving your lips at the feeling. "Shit" he shakily says. Hands gripping at your thighs. Helping you bounce on his cock.
"Feels so good" you mumble. Tilting your head to the side. Shutting your eyes. Focusing on getting him off. This was his day after all. That didnt stop him from wanting to please. One of his hands moves. Going from your hip to your core. Thumb finding your clit. Rubbing quick circles onto it. "Fuck!" You make a couple more movements. Feeling your rythm start to falter. Pushing yourself through despite your legs wanting to give out under you. Your determination making you have harsher strokes. Making him get closer with each movement.
"Kat..." he moans. A silent question.
"I want to feel your cum insdie me". With those words he brings you harshly down onto him. Both hands refocusing on your hips to hold you in place. Feeling the familiar feeling of his load shooting inside of your walls. You let out a stuttered moan. A gleeful smile creeping over your face.
You open your eyes. Looking down at the beautiful man beneath you. The one you get to call 'yours'. Hsi green eyes finding yours. His smile cocky. Of course. You lean forward. Kissing his lips. Wiping that cute smile from his face. His arms wrap around your frame. Holding you close to him. Kissing your forehead before you rest you head down onto his chest. Hand coming and resting beside your face as you shut your eyes. His voice is soft in the quiet room after a few minutes
"We should move and get cleaned up". You shake your head.
"Comfy"
"If I stay inside of you I'll get hard again and we'll have to do that again". You tilt your head to look up at him. His mimicing yours downwards.
"Would that be a bad thing?" a smirk taunts your face.
"No but I need stamina. And I know theres a pie in the fridge with my name on it" You laugh. Moving so you can plant your lips to his.
"I love you Dean". He smiles. Kissing you again.
"I love you". Quickly kissing you one more time before he sits up. You wrap your limbs around him. His strong arm holding you close to him as he moves from the bed. Your naked bodies still connected as he makes his way to the kitchen. Opening the frideg and finding the second love of his life - pie.
TAGS: @sojuxxi
#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#smut#supernatural#supernatural smut#fluff#angst#dean winchester supernatural#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fluff#supernatural fluff#supernatural angst#jensen ackles#supernatural dean smut#supernatural dean fluff#supernatural dean angst#supernatural dean winchester fluff#supernatural dean winchester smut#supernatural dean winchester angst#dean winchester x oc#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean x reader smut#dean x reader fluff#dean x reader angst#dean winchester x reader smut#dean winchester x reader angst#dean winchester x reader fluff#one shot#one shot story
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Sexy F*cking Nerd
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: When Dean discovers a little secret of (Y/n)'s during a case research session he can't help but let temptation get the best of him.
Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, Oral (M receiving), slight angst if you squint, Dean having a glasses kink (not really a warning but not everyone wears them hahaha lucky bastards)
MDNI! 18+
Word Count: 5688
A/N: It's taken a little while but here is the second competition winner from a few weeks back, the prompt provided by the wonderful @foxyjwls007 - I hope you like it!
The motel room was stuffy to say the least - that usual aroma of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener lingering around us. There was a dripping sound coming from God knows where and the AC hummed in between the concerning clinking from deep within the vents. It was crap. So crap. But it was home for a few nights; just like all the motel rooms that came before. Dean stepped past me and over the threshold, immediately slinging his duffle and jacket onto his chosen bed. He stretched his arms above his head, the grey Henley clutching his muscular abdomen and rising enough to flaunt what lay beneath. I sighed, following him in and slumping onto the bed beside his - the musty stench from the sheets enveloping me.
“Well…” Dean started, pulling Sam's laptop out of his bag and placing it on the small table by the window.
“Well…?” My voice echoed as I focused on the ceiling fan that spun off centre.
“...This is… nice?” His statement was more of a question as he looked around with raised eyebrows. I propped myself up on my elbows, flashing him a look of speculation.
“Seriously?” A moment passed before he huffed a long-held breath and slapped his large palms on his thighs.
“No of course not, this place sucks more dick than a hooker on payday.”
“You got that right,” I flopped back down onto the bed, a small dust cloud erupting under my weight. I closed my eyes and listened as Dean pulled a chair out from under the table, slumping down into it. Then there was the familiar click of the laptop opening followed by the sound of stuttered not-quite-touch-typing, presumably he was starting work on the case that we’d come here to investigate. The tap tap tap of whatever was leaking began to drill into my brain, my patience already wearing thin with the rooms dire ambiance. I pulled myself up to sitting, criss-crossing my legs on the bed and brushing whatever that dust from the bedding was off my sweater sleeves.
“When's Sam back?” I asked, watching as Dean searched the keyboard in front of him for some long lost letter.
“Uuuh, I'm not sure. He said to work this case without him.”
“Ugghhh, I bet he's having way more fun than us right now, it's not fair,” I plopped my chin into my palm and stared past the older Winchester out the window, almost willing Sam to appear and walk in like any other day.
“It's just some dumb wedding, I doubt he's having that much fun.”
I scoffed before I could stop myself, Dean breaking eye contact with the screen to throw me a raised eyebrow.
“Look,” I collected myself, “you didn't know Sam in college. He won't admit it but he was popular. Really popular. Not the total nerd you think he is. He's absolutely having fun with these people.”
“Yeah right. So who's at this wedding anyway? Why was it so important that he just had to be there?”
I rolled my eyes, knowing full well Sam had already told him all the details. Typical Dean.
“It's for a couple of friends who he and Jess were close with back then. Pretty sure the bride was prom queen in highschool or something and the groom was a trust fund jock. Either way, not my crowd,” I sighed slightly, memories from my college days flooding my mind.
Deans eyebrows twitched into a small frown, his thoughts seeming to cloud his vision for a second before he reluctantly dismissed them. I looked down into my lap for a moment, reminiscing how I always kept my distance from Sam whilst at Stanford, but he had always been that boy that would make my heart flutter when he spoke up in class or when I'd see him on the quad with his friends. I remember seeing him with his nose in a book once at my usual desk in the library, my cheeks burning when he caught me staring. Who would've thought several years down the line I'd be sat in a bottom-rung motel room with his obscenely good looking older brother researching monster lore. At least we would be researching monster lore, if it wasn't for the small growl my empty stomach had gurgled out. I couldn't stop the small pulse of embarrassment burning into my cheeks as Dean eyed me with a grin.
“Wanna get some lunch?” He asked, standing up like he already knew my answer.
“Fuck yes. I'm feeling burgers,” I shuffled to the edge of the bed and stood up, watching as Dean shrugged on his leather jacket and headed to the door, holding it open for me.
“Now you're speaking my language.”
*
The diner was almost as sad and withered as the motel room, however the food was nothing short of spectacular. I watched in awe as Dean polished off his second burger, a small glob of sauce sticking to his stubble and threatening to drip off his chin. He must've felt me watching in wonder - or perhaps disgust - as when he looked up from his plate he shot me a questioning glance.
“What?” His tone was a little defensive through the mouthful of fries he'd just shovelled in. I took a second before asking, half-genuine:
“Where do you put all of that?”
“Put what?”
“The food - where does it go? Do you have hollow legs? Two stomachs? Does it just evaporate as soon as you swallow it?”
He grinned, wiping the sauce from his face with a napkin.
“Goes straight to the abs baby. It's muscle fuel,” he leant back in his chair, stretching a little before patting his stomach to punctuate his statement. I simply rolled my eyes.
“Yeah right, you're not that muscly Dean.”
“How would you know? You've never seen me with my shirt off.”
“I know, and I plan to keep it that way.”
He feigned a pout before returning to his fries. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, my mind absently going back to all the lore we should be trying to gather. I gripped my milkshake that had so generously been served in a thin paper cup, attempting to suck the practically solid beverage up the equally thin paper straw. Finding the nearest library would be the next task on our to-do list, despite the protesting I know I'll get from Dean.
“Hey, (Y/n)?” My train of thought was derailed at the sound of my name. The slurping of over-thickened milkshake from myself ceased.
“What's up?”
“What were you like in college?”
I eyed him with caution, wondering what part of his brain was in control right now.
“What do you wanna know?”
Catching the wariness to divulge him to such information, he smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders.
“I'm not asking to be weird, I just-” he paused, choosing his next words tactfully, “the way you described Sam as being a totally different person - some hot-shot with the perfect grades, popular friends and a girlfriend like Jess - it just got me thinking. How would Sam have described you?”
I almost spat my dairy-goop back into the straw, my brain freezing.
“Dean,” I started before planning what I was going to say, placing my cup on the table. “Sam wouldn't be able to describe me.”
My words brought a small smirk to his lips.
“You were that hot, huh?”
“What the fuck- no- I wasn't- he didn't- Sam never- ” I stopped myself before I had an aneurysm and took a deep breath.
“I was in a totally different crowd to Sam. He was always surrounded by people and, well, I barely even had a crowd.”
“Lone wolf?”
“Bingo. But definitely not the cool, collected, stoic type. Think more, invisible to the public eye, always carrying books, and borderline selective mute because of how shy I was.”
“Oh… what changed?,” Deans tone changed entirely, genuine intrigue seeming to take the wheel. I couldn't help but laugh slightly, remembering my method to forcing myself out of my bubble.
“The only job I could get was in a bar. No one else wanted the hours and I desperately needed cash. I didn't really have a choice after that,” I paused, remembering how terrified I was on my first day and grinned slightly, grateful for the extra confidence I had now because I took that leap.
“Hey, what sort of crowd do you think I would've been in?”
I snorted, looking up into his expectant eyes - almost captivated by the glistening greens.
“What am I? A BuzzFeed quiz? I have no idea Dean, you're too much of a wildcard to predict. You probably would've fit in with anyone and everyone.”
“Even you?”
For reasons unbeknownst to even myself, my breath caught in my throat. The sudden soft sincerity of his voice contradicting his usual temperament, my heart starting to flutter in my chest. If the college version of myself had met Dean back then I just know I would have been enthralled at first glance.
“I don't think you would've noticed me. You would've been surrounded by every tall, thin blonde and brunette with perfect tits. Trust me, you would've been distracted,” I smiled an almost sad smile at the thought of him simply being on university grounds and having the time of his life - knowing it was something that he was never going to get the chance to experience in this upside down life of his. Of ours. He tapped his fingers on the table for a second, likely lost in some ludicrous thought I don't think I'd want to be privy to. I attempted another slurp of my milkshake when the paper straw gave out and flopped in half, the need to leave conversation and the diner suddenly looming over me.
“Come on, let's get to the library before it closes,” I stood and pulled my oversized sweater down so it covered my ass before reaching for my backpack. Just as my fingers touched the worn fabric of the strap it was torn away, my head snapping up to Dean who flung it over one shoulder with his signature grin on his face.
“Lead the way nerd.”
I couldn't help but beam at his playfulness. I hated the fact that he made it so easy to adore him. Hated that he completely overlooked how I was his total opposite in almost every way. How when we were talking, his eyes never left mine - how he was genuinely interested in what I was like in the past. And how, when I had his attention, he didn't even notice that the hot waitress had written her number on a napkin and left it next to him.
*
The trip to the library was about as eventful as it sounded. After checking out multiple books on cursed items, local lore and popular antiques from the seventies, we loaded ourselves back into the impala, made an all-important beer run before heading back to the motel.
The small table by the window was now totally smothered by a blanket of books, maps and empty beer bottles. Deans chin rested in his palms as he stared blankly at the screen in front of him, and I must've read the last sentence of the paragraph laid before me a dozen times without it even sinking in. The obnoxious dripping and humming of ancient appliances was starting to make me feel restless.
“It has to be the boots,” Dean groaned, draining the last of his beer.
“Either the boots or the disco ball. But my money is on boots as well,” I sighed, pushing the book away from me and standing slowly, gathering the quickly accumulating litter now scattered around us.
“I'm gonna make some coffee, my brain is fried over how fucking ridiculous this case is,” I ditched the trash in the bin before filling the coffee machine, listening to it whir to life whilst I headed to my bed. I could feel Deans gaze on my back as I rummaged around my bag in search of a specific item.
“What are you looking fo-” he'd started to ask the question but his voice died in his throat when I turned around. I quickly pushed my newly adorned glasses up the bridge of my nose, already feeling the oversized frame start to slip down as I tried not to make a big deal over them.
“What?” My tone was a fraction off aggressive when I realised he was staring. He seemed to snap out of his daze, quickly rubbing the back of his neck and turning back to the laptop screen. He cleared his throat
“I uh, I didn't know you wore glasses,” I could tell from the slight tremble in his voice that his mind was reeling.
“Is there a problem with that?”
“No! I mean, no, absolutely not. They look good. The glasses, I mean. The glasses look good. Not on their own, obviously. On your face. They look good on your face. You have a great fa-”
“Dean?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
“Sorry.”
I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter, filling it to the brim with caffeinated goodness. I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my lips at Deans fumbling, almost finding the whole ordeal a little charming. I sat back down at the table and pulled the books back towards me, also grabbing my pen and tattered notebook.
“The guests at the club mentioned hearing footsteps - so it has to be the boots, right? A disco ball wouldn't make that sound…” my voice trailed off when I realised that, even though Dean was looking at me, he wasn't listening to a word I was saying.
“Earth to Dean?”
He flinched slightly at his name, but felt no shame delving in with a completely off-topic question.
“So how long have you worn glasses?”
“I’ve always worn them,” I slid back into my chair at the table opposite him, not sure whether to laugh at the shocked expression on his face or whether to be concerned about his observation skills.
“What?! No way, I would’ve noticed,” He opened another beer and took a sip before tracing the opening to the bottle over his bottom lip.
“ I only wear them for concentration work, and I have emergency contact lenses if I know I’m going to be around a lot of people as I don’t particularly like how they look.”
Dean made a small disagreeable expression before averting his gaze from mine back to the laptop, taking another swig of his beer. I placed my coffee mug down and settled back into the book I was reading before, and after a few moments I could feel my skin begin to prickle - as though I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I glanced up, my breath immediately catching in my throat. Deans eyes found mine, burning with an intensity that made my heart hammer in my chest. I didn’t want to look away, but under his gaze I felt like I’d been stripped bare, unable to hide my insecurities from an eye that seemed to scorch through to my very core.
“Dean-”
“(Y/n), you should really have more confidence in yourself; I think the glasses look cute as fuck. You should wear them more,” a fierce blush erupted across my face when he spoke, his assured tone leaving no room for disagreement. I tried desperately not to let on that his words held any sort of impact over my decisions so I looked down, away from his scrutiny and simply said:
“Maybe I will.”
He hummed in approval, finally looking elsewhere and I couldn’t stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief when the pressure of his stare was averted.
The evening dragged on and an hour and a half had passed since his loaded comment. I was on the third book we’d checked out of the library, now trying desperately to find the curse that would cause a pair of 1970s glam rock boots to dance for eternity and haunt anyone who tried to wear them. This case was absurd, and I could feel myself growing restless with the small amount of progress we’d made. I huffed out a sigh and leant back in my chair, the faux leather and rusted metal creaking under my weight. Pulling the hair bobble from around my wrist I scooped my hair into a bundle on the top of my head, securing it in place; the sensation of air on my neck seemed to clear some of the fog from my brain. The messy bun was comfortably enough that I could forget it was there, and I allowed myself a stretch before leaning back over the table, grasping my pen. As I began to read the next segment, I absently traced the end of the pen over my bottom lip, running it back and forth a few times before gently nibbling on the end. I heard the shuffling of Dean moving in his seat and a ragged clearing of his throat before the sound of vigorous laptop keys clicking ensued. Without looking up at him I continued reading, the pen still tapping my bottom lip, and when I neared the bottom of the paragraph, I slowly licked the pad of my index finger. My eyes never leaving the words, I turned the page swiftly with my dampened digit, the transition from one page to the next perfectly seamless. Another shuffle from the man opposite followed by a quiet groan filled the silence between us. Pen still between my teeth, I lifted only my eyes to glance at him and noted the dusting of pink across his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. Concluding that he’d had one too many beers I decided to ignore his persistent fidgeting, returning to my previous task on monotonous reading. Several sentences in and I’d almost forgotten Deans restlessness - that was until I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, deep in thought, that I earned myself a throaty groan and an exasperated sigh. I looked up just in time to watch him wipe a large hand down his face, momentarily masking his pained expression.
“Can you not do that? I can’t concentrate when you do that.”
“Do what?” Upon asking my question I absently took the pen between my teeth again, quickly glancing down at the book to place a mental bookmark.
“That.”
“What?”
“That. That thing you do with our mouth, and the pen, and your tongue and your finger. Can you please stop before it kills me.”
The heat beneath my skin was immediate at his admission, knowing my small, absent-minded actions were playing on his mind and making it hard for him to think straight. I instinctively crossed my legs, a fluttering in my lower belly instantly dragging my mind back to the deprived things I’d imagined Dean doing to me in the depths of night. The places I’d imagined his hands travelling, the areas his lips would touch and the sensations his tongue could create. These were deeply, deeply personal fantasies, and right now as Dean looked at me with a restrained hunger, I felt like I was wearing these fantasies for the world to see. For Dean to see.
“It doesn’t help that you’ve been sat over there like a sexy fucking librarian all evening, but every time you do that anything with that mouth - shit, sweetheart you’re driving me insane.” His voice was gravelly as he looked at me with desperate eyes across the table. The overly rational part of my brain had shut down completely, and now the part of my mind that had spent hours conjuring vivid scenes of Dean Winchester ravishing me in my entirety had taken the charge. I stood slowly, taking a moment to reason with myself - unsuccessfully of course - before sinking to my knees in front of my chair. I could see Deans strong thighs were spread wide beneath the table so I crawled forwards, across the cold tiles and placed myself between his legs. Resting my palms softly on his thighs I made him flinch at the unexpected contact. He immediately scooted his chair back, allowing a gap for me to poke my head through - his hand instantly acting as a barrier between the edge of the table and my skull. I got comfortable and allowed myself a moment to gaze up at him, to take in the strained furrow in his brow and the parting of his lips. I observed the way his chest rose and fell in apprehensive breaths, and the way his free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh - like he was so desperate yet so scared to touch me.
“(Y/n)-”
“Dean,” I spoke softly, slowly running my hands up his thighs - delicate palms against rough denim, “you’re a smart boy - you know I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to do. So please, don’t say I don’t have to do this.”
Dean released a shaky breath the moment my fingers unclasped his jeans. I tugged them down slightly with his help, just enough so I could dip my hand into his boxers and wrap my fingers around his half-hard length. The moment my skin touched his, his head lolled back and his eyes fluttered closed with a breathy moan on his lips.
“Fuck…”
I gently pulled him from his confines, coming face to face with the cock I’d literally dreamt of again and again. I took the scene in, committing to memory the sharp outline of his jaw and the way his long lashes rested on his lightly-freckled cheeks. The way that, every time he breathed in, I could see his defined muscle tone through the thin fabric of his shirt; and with every small caress that my fingers made against his length, it made his fingers twitch and teeth clench. I licked my lips before leaning in and took his tip into my mouth, not giving him a chance to finish sucking in air through his teeth before I plunged his entire length down my throat.
“Oh FUCK.”
His hands flew to my hair, fingers gripping tight as they loosened strands from the messy bun, causing them to fall around my face. He’d lifted his head to look down at me, pupils blown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked nothing more than enthralled. Infatuated. Entranced. I moved my head up and down, up and down, again and again to a steady rhythm, pressing my tongue to the underside of his now rock-hard cock to trace every vein and nerve-ending.
“Shit, (Y/n), I didn’t know you could suck cock, like, at all… how’re you s’fuckin’ good…” his voice was breathless as he continued to grip my hair, his head flopping to the side as pleasure started to overcome his senses. I released him with a small ‘pop’, wrapping my fingers around him and smearing the warm mixture of saliva and precum from tip to base.
“Despite everything I told you earlier, Dean, I’m not a virgin - and this certainly isn’t my first rodeo,” my voice came out more sultry than I’d expected and I could feel Dean tremble beneath my palms.
“Fuck, I wish I’d known that sooner,” I chewed on my bottom lip, quickly becoming addicted to the way he writhed at my touch. The way he moaned and gripped my hair tighter when I sucked him back into my mouth was like pure ecstasy, my insides heating up and throbbing with an ache of familiar arousal. Like a thirst that could only be satisfied by him. By tasting him, feeling him on my tongue and drinking in every sound that passed his plush parted lips. The sensation of my glasses slipping down my nose as I sped up my ministrations had me reaching to push them back up, but not before Dean beat me to it. With the rough pad of his thumb he pushed on the plastic bridge, his palm and fingers pressed to my flushed cheek in the most tender, almost heart wrenching caress. I thought my heart might stop when he tilted my face up to his; lustful eyes burning into mine with a vehemence I’d never encountered. I stopped in my tracks, all actions ceased as the spell he’d somehow put me under wouldn’t let me look away.
“If you keep going like that darlin’ this whole thing is gonna be over before you know it,” his voice was raspy, a rawness to it from the harsh breaths and ragged moans that had been pulled from his throat. He slowly pulled his cock from my spit-slick lips and grasped it loosely, giving himself a few lazy pumps whilst his other hand never left my face. He stared down at me, taking a few moments as though he was committing the sight of me, knelt between his knees with flushed cheeks and swollen lips to memory. Once it seemed that memory was locked away in the depths of his mind, he grasped me by the arm and pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his fingers almost bruising against my skin. Immediately I felt him, in his entirety, press against me with the heat and wetness seeping through my jeans and past my panties. This time when our eyes met, there was a mutual desperation; a need to consume each other and to feel every inch of his heated skin against mine. He pulled me frantically down to him and crashed his lips against mine.
Some people describe their first kiss with someone like butterflies in their stomach, or fireworks exploding all around them. That wasn’t at all what this was like. Kissing Dean Winchester was different - it was wild and untamed - and describing this experience in such a mundane way would be like adding water to a top-shelf whiskey. Kissing Dean Winchester was like driving the impala at one thirty with the roar of the engine drowning out the rest of the world. It was like trying to ride a wild mustang without a saddle, or daring to stand on the highest peak on Earth with nothing to tie you down. It was exhilarating in the most dangerous way imaginable - and I was now officially a thrill seeker.
The warm taste of the beer on his tongue and the masculine scent of old leather and cologne was pulling me under. Breathing no longer mattered as long as his mouth was on mine and his fingers were in my hair, now tugging the bobble out and throwing it to the floor. As my hair tumbled free he grabbed under my thighs and stood effortlessly, moving me from his lap to the edge of the table without his lips leaving mine. I winced slightly as the corners and several books and the laptop jabbed into my rear and I fumbled to move everything aside, failing when I refused to unlock our lips. Deans patience was non-existent and with one sweep of his strong arm everything tumbled to the floor - including the laptop. I threw the remaining books from underneath me down to join them, no longer caring for their wellbeing. Before I could pull Dean back in - to allow him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to me - he hastily pulled off my boots and tugged down my jeans, throwing every item to the growing pile of chaos beside us. I discarded my sweater and top, but before I let his fingers touch my bra I wanted nothing more than to return the favour.
“I guess you can forget about that whole ‘never seeing me shirtless’ thing, huh?” he smirked through the sexual fog, not waiting for a reply as his lips hungrily found mine again, his own top falling to the floor.
“Shut up Winchester. Now are you gonna fuck me or wh- OH FUCK-”
Two thick fingers crept under my panties and plunged into me with zero hesitation, curling up and stroking the sensual cushion deep within my core with skillful precision.
“Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you?” Even with my face now buried in the crook of his neck, I could hear the smirk in his voice, the tormenting tone going straight to my brain.
“Y-yes- fuck- please,” my knees twitched either side of him, squeezing at his hips with every push of his fingers. I gripped his shoulders tight, nails indenting his skin as I leant back to look at him better. Seeing the beads of sweat on his chest and brow alongside the raw, carnal desire in his eyes could have undone me there and then. He frowned in disapproval when I moved to remove my glasses, the fingers that were just inside me now wrapped forcefully around my wrist.
“What d’ya think you’re doing?” straight away I knew his growling question left no room for negotiation.
“I was just-”
“The glasses stay on.”
“To the end?”
“‘Til I say you can take them off.”
I did as I was told, moving my hand to grip the soft strands on the back of his neck, softly dragging my nails over his scalp and drawing a shiver from his spine and a groan from his lungs. He pulled me against him, crushing his lips against mine one more time. He swiftly pulled away and I leant back on my hands, both of us taking a moment to drink each other in - to bask in lascivious glory. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and looked up at him through my lashes, the lenses of my glasses starting to fog around the edges. Another deep moan rumbled from his chest as his heated gaze stayed locked to mine.
“I can’t wait any longer now that you’ve looked at me like that. Fuck.”
With a large hand gripping the soft flesh of my thigh he pulled my underwear to one side and lined himself up, slowly sinking in. Blissful moans harmonised between us, the rawness of him stretching me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and my quivering thighs wrapped around him, pushing him to the hilt. He secured his large hands on the soft flesh of my hips and held me in place as he slowly withdrew. I could feel him; feel every ridge and vein drag out and then in, out and in, over my most sensitive, intimate, area. The slick sounds of our intimacy began to echo around the room as he picked up speed, strong thighs working at a feverish pace. With every thrust he pushed against that one spot that made my legs jerk and eyes water, my arms almost giving out underneath me as the table rattled beneath my weight. With the ferocity of his pounding and the heightened sensitivity he’d curated between my legs only moments before, we both knew that neither of us would last long. The sounds of his ragged breaths and throaty moans alone had me clenching around him already, and I know my constricting muscles already had his hips stuttering as I sucked him in with every thrust.
“Fuck (Y/n)- You’re so fuckin’ tight-”
I chewed on my bottom lip as his desperate eyes met mine.
“Oh yeah? Well I feel like you’re cock is in my fucking ribcage- oh fuck-”
He slipped one hand between us, his large palm resting on my lower belly as his thumb drew fast circles around my clit. The immediate contact on my bundle of nerves had my whole body quivering, the knot of an impending climax already starting to twist tighter and tighter in the depths of my core. The way that Dean fucked me into the motel room table was something that I would be able to feel deep in my soul for the rest of my life - my body and entire nervous system having never been worked in such a feral way before. Dean dropped forward and crushed my body into his - one large strong arm wrapped around my trembling body and kept me pressed against him as his head dropped to the crook of my neck. Soft lips pressed hot kisses against my shoulder, teeth gently nibbling the soft flesh as the coil wound and wound, the wave of orgasmic bliss rising higher and higher as my mind emptied, leaving behind only one thought.
Dean.
He was all consuming - all I could see, taste and smell. All I could feel. Oh God could I feel him; driving me to the brink of pure bliss as he frantically sped up - desperate to seek his own undoing as well as my own. One… two… three more fervid thrusts and the peak he’d helped me ascend to shattered around me as I practically screamed his name, the white-hot euphoria scorching my insides as I clamped like a vice around him.
“Oh shit- (Y/n) I can’t- fuck-”
I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth to mine as he came undone, spilling inside me as he worked through his own white-hot euphoria.
The kiss we shared evolved from hot and needy to soft and wanting - the sensation of hot cum running down the inside of my thigh and cooling against my skin being the only thing to pull me away. Dean continued to lean over me for a moment, looking down at me with an expression that told me he had so much he wanted to say. Instead, he looked down at his release now starting to pool on the floor beneath us, then to the books and laptop that had been thrown across the floor before turning back to face me with the most devilish grin on his face.
“You know that this mess is all your fault, right?”
I scoffed.
“My fault? How is it my fault?”
“Because, sweetheart…” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and pushed lightly on the plastic bridge sitting on my nose.
“You put on on those fucking glasses.”
--------------------------------------------------
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#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x female!reader#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader smut#dean winchester x you smut#supernatural reader insert#supernatural one shot#dean winchester one shot#dean smut#supernatural smut#smut
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Supernatural p links!
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
18+ minors do not interact or click the links! Each link contains porn. All links are from twitter. You must be logged into Twitter for the links to open!
includes: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and Castiel
Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
— Dean Winchester
Dean cumming all over you after a hunt
getting dicked down in the bathtub
Halloween party with Dean
waking him up for a creampie
losing your anal virginity to Dean
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
— Sam Winchester
getting caught watching porn & Sam helps you out
threesome with Sam & Ruby
size kink with big dick!Sam
first time letting Sam fuck you raw
riding his face in Dean’s car
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
— Castiel
virgin!Cas finally getting to fuck you
husband!Castiel playing with your pussy before bed
Castiel slurping your pussy after a long day
dom!Cas making you squirt
filming you take his cock for jerk off material
⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡
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#natti’s 18+#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester x reader#castiel x reader#dean winchester smut#sam winchester smut#castiel smut#supernatural#supernatural smut#p links#dean winchester#sam winchester#castiel
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libidinal
If Dean could curse every witch on this planet for dosing you and him with an aphrodisiac after ganking them, he would. His entire body was on fire— burning, and his mind was embarrassingly stuck on you. You, your thighs, lips, your ass. It all rattled about in his head like a broken record, and he craved you, craved the relief like crazy.
He knew that you were feeling the same things he was right now, the ache, burn, relentless want that you just couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried. Ugh, you needed him. Like you’d die if you didn’t have him. Dean felt the same damn way — trust him — like one touch and he’d break the damn best friend code of conduct.
You’d think both of you would have more control of yourselves, considering how you were both hunters who’d faced stuff like vampires and shit. "This is gettin’ on my nerves, sweetheart," he scoffed, eyes fluttering up and down you. You were too hot for this world— and that wasn’t just the pollen talking, but his drugged up mind couldn’t stop.
"Fuck this." he slowly took off his sweat-soaked shirt, looking for signs that you’d jump him. Dean rubbed the sweat off his chest, having no damn right to look that jacked and edible right now, ugh. He can't take all of this crap, including being quarantined in this damn motel room by Sam. It’s for a reason, though.
He groaned, aching, desperate, gesturing for you to keep away so he could resist this damned pollen’s effects. "Oh, m’ gonna kill Sammy if he doesn’t find a cure for this stat." Dean covered his ears, yeah, no. He acted as if covering his ears and blocking out all noise would stop the ache for you, well, it sure didn’t.
Pacing back and forth, he took one look at you— nope, look away, you looked too hot, nope. "Yeah, I’ll kill him." He winced when he got a very R-rated image in his head— he was desperate for you, you, for some relief, mainly sex.
He felt like every second without his hands on your ass was torture— he hoped he wouldn’t go to hell.
“Oh, I’m fine.” You breathed, sarcastic, giving him a look with raised eyebrows. “Just — you know — feeling like my body’s burning alive, I’m sweatin’, my brain hurts.” Your eyes were hungrily searching his bare chest, biting your lip— no, stop, even if you felt on fire and were sweating buckets.
“You’re clearly not,” he retorted. He would’ve found it funny that you were checking him out, but the need was so overwhelming, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from throwing you onto the nearest surface.
“So… no need to be sarcastic. M’ just trying to control myself.” He muttered under his breath, crossing his arms and keeping the distance between you. “Can’t say the same for you though, sweetheart, ‘cause I can see ya gawkin’.”
“Yeah, just quit it, you look like a five star buffet. A girl can’t help herself when she’s drugged up on an aphrodisiac.” You groaned, dabbing your sweaty-ass neck with a towel, not able to help the way your eyes hungrily drank in his chest. “I’m makin’ do with the view I’ve got while my pussy’s yellin’ at me right now.”
“Christ, darlin’.” He muttered. He felt all fuzzy inside when you said that, he hated how hungry the damn pollen made him for you, for your body. Dean’s eyes darkened, taking in the way you kept looking at him, how you were yearning for him like he was with you. His fingers gripped on the chair he was sitting on, and he leaned forward— he needed to stay on the damn chair.
“And what kinda things is it tellin’ you, hm?” He asked, voice lowering, growling almost. His cock was telling him to go over there, moan in your ear as he thrusted into you, that’s what— but he had to deny himself of such luxurious pleasures. How great.
“To throw away all sense of modern feminism and let you fuck me hard on the floor.” You breathed, moaning softly at getting the words out. “Or letting you bend me over the table. Eat me out on the bed, take me from behind on said bed.” Another desperate moan.
Shit.
Dean almost groaned out loud, damn you. You were going to be the death of him. He was so damn hard right now, and he gripped even tighter on the chair, he would break it if he wasn’t careful.
“Sweet girl, I know you’re not talkin' about feminism when you got your hungry eyes all over me right damn now.” He bit out, clenching his jaw. Dean couldn’t help the fantasies that were running through his mind, especially when you let those moans out.
“I know.” You murmured, nodding, levelling the playing field and taking your shirt off too, leaning back against the bed’s headboard. Shit. Your skin that glistened with sweat, glowing more in the shitty motel light, tits now on display for his hungry-ass eyes. Your head tipped back, eyebrows pinched together tight, lips parted ever so slightly. Shit.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered, eyes drinking in that perfect body of yours like a man who hadn’t had a drop of water in years. He’d seen you in a bikini before and almost lost it, but this view, this view was a sight for sore eyes. One that he was now staring at shamelessly.
His mouth hung agape as his eyes traveled from your chest to your face, he was desperate — all for you. “What’re you gettin’ at?” He asked, voice low and ragged.
“That I’m hot too. A woman can exist with her shirt off.” You scoffed, thighs rubbing together for any friction. C’mon, fuck, you got nothing— guess Dean’s cock was the answer, but not fucking your friend was the first cardinal rule of maintaining a best-friendship. “Oh, I’m gonna kill those witches even if they’re in the afterlife. I—” You let out a small whimper of frustration, the ache building. “God damn.”
“Damn right you’re hot, sweetheart.” he muttered, eyes locked to your thighs, practically drooling— maybe he wasn’t talking about the heat both of you were burning under. Dean’s tongue darted out and wet his dry lips, watching you as you rubbed your thighs against one another for friction. Damn it, it should be him being that friction, if that even made sense— he didn’t know, his brain was sludge. “I know, baby girl, m’ feelin’ what you are, I get it.”
He wanted to reach out and touch you so bad, but he had to get a grip. Sam could come back with a cure— maybe. Could he wait that long? Probably not.
You, however, simply did not have the patience nor the fucks to deal with Sam and his annoying lateness— you needed your best friend, he needed you, you had two holes he could put his dick into — you weren’t doing ass stuff on the first fuck — so it’s a win-win. “Dean, fuck this cure.” You whined, breath hitching as you yanked your sweats down, panties going with, pussy leaking and aching and so very empty. “Can’t wait, I can’t— c’mere. Fuck me, c’mere.”
Ok— yeah— yes, ma’am.
The sight had his eyes getting dark, nearly feral as he quickly stood up from his chair. The chair fell backwards and made a loud thud against the floor, but he couldn’t care less— not when you looked so damn delectable on the bed in front of him. Dean took quick steps towards you, practically ripping off the rest of his shirt.
He kneeled on the bed in front of you, practically pinning you to the bed. He couldn’t help himself. “M’ here, I’m here. Tell me what you want.” He huffed out, hips already bucking against the bed, moaning at the friction as he kissed over your bare tits and up your neck, licking up your neck, sweat on his tongue— yes, it’s disgusting, but he’d ponder on that in retrospect, right now he felt like an animal.
You guided his hand between your legs then kissed him, hotly, hungry, your lips devouring his, hand on the back of his head keeping him there. It was like a dam had broken, your breath harsh and heavy against his lips.
He grunted into the kiss, eyes slipping shut against the onslaught of your lips against his. His hand easily found its way down to you, the second you pushed him where you wanted him. God, his hand ached to be between your thighs.
“M’ here,” he breathed in between hot kisses. “M’ here, sweetheart, I gotcha.” The words were muffled, breathless, as he pushed your thighs apart, finding your wetness, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head. God, he was starved for you, as you were for him, it felt frantic, hazy, like relief that he was finally touching your skin that would go away instantly, as it wasn’t enough. Your scent had his eyes actually rolling back for a second, a pant and a whine leaving his mouth in quick succession as his free hand pushed sweaty hair out of your face, his own spiky from your hand running through it.
He ground his cock against the bed, feeling himself leaking — as were you — and these touches alone honestly had him feeling like he could embarrass himself right here, and come in his pants like a teenager before even getting the chance to fuck you properly.
You nodded against his lips, practically gone and inattentive to anything but him, leaning more of your body weight back against the headboard and pulling — yanking — him with you, panting, desperate. “Need you, baby, please.”
Oh, he needed you too, baby girl.
“Need you too, gorgeous.” he panted, letting you push him around between your legs and wiping sweat off his forehead briefly, wiping that hand on the sheets— shit, that left a pretty dark mark. He bit down on your bottom lip, groaning into the kiss. God, you looked so pretty, so needy and desperate, and you were all for him. He needed to mark you in some way, make you his in every possible way. He needed to.
“You need me inside this pretty pussy, baby?” He asked, his hand already gliding over your slickness, his eyes locked on yours. His fingers pushed inside you, a moan leaving both your mouths as he felt the lack of resistance on your cunt’s part, and how it sucked his fingers in — fuck, you were tight — and he worked your bra off so he could suck and flick his tongue against your nipples one at a time, moaning against the softness of your tits— mmh, that felt so good.
You nodded frantically, cause fuck yeah, moaning, lips still pressed to his as the pressure had you whimpering in relief. “Yes— yes, baby, d-don’t you stop, ok? God, feels so good.”
“I won’t, wasn’t plannin’ on it, baby doll.” he grumbled against your lips. He didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon, not when you felt this good around his fingers, when you sounded so damn pretty.
“Christ, I need you.” His words were nearly a whisper as he pushed down his jeans and boxers. He was so hard, so desperate for you, that he couldn’t hold back anymore. “You ready, baby?” Well, he certainly was, let’s put it that way. He’d been grinding on the bed the whole time he was on top of you.
“So ready.” You nodded, kissing him desperately, hotly again, panting, whimpering, the works. God, you felt like you were on fire, like it wouldn’t stop until you had him— it felt almost primal. Why wouldn’t you be ready, though? You weren’t a woman if you didn’t get soaked for Dean Winchester.
“M’ gonna take care of you, baby girl, I will.” He muttered against your lips, taking deep breaths. The words came out in a near growl and a grunt, he was hungry for you, starved, so he’d let you kiss him breathless, and he’d kiss you back just as fiercely as you.
He needed to give you the relief you needed, the pleasure, the release. He still rubbed at your pussy, all while he continued kissing you, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip.
You moaned against his lips, nails raking down his back, leg hooking over his hip— fuck the cure, fuck Sammy (though the poor guy deserves more credit), you just needed this right now, you felt like you could explode. Spontaneously combust. Lit match to gasoline. “God, don’t wait.”
“I won’t wait. Not anymore.” He grunted as he felt your nails dig into his skin, and your legs wrapped around him. He was so desperate to be inside you, and the sight of you just beneath him, the sounds coming out of your mouth, they just made him throb.
“I got you, I’m gonna take care of you baby doll, m’ gonna take care of you real good.” He panted against your neck, biting down on the skin as he slid into you, his mouth dropping open at the pure relief.
Your head fell back, a long, drawn moan leaving your mouth— you swore it felt like a cooling balm had been slapped on your bodies, or ice cold water. It just felt like a splash of pure relief, and you couldn’t stop chasing it, it felt like euphoria. “Shitfuck.”
“Oh, god,” he groaned, groaned, eyes squeezed shut. He hadn’t felt relief like this in so long, and your moans were like a damn symphony to his ears. He nearly felt like he was in heaven, that you were an angel.
“You’re so perfect — perfect.” He panted against your skin, placing kisses against your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder, as he found a pace. “Feels so good, darlin’, good girl.” It took all the effort in the world for him to not just lose himself and start pounding into you, just to say.
Good girl? You could’ve come right there. Squirted, even.
But no. Your leg hitched higher on his hip, clutching at his shoulder and at the headboard, your forehead pinched, eyes closed as you just felt it, couldn’t stop feeling, desperately letting shameless moans slip past your lips— as if you could control those.
“Yeah, that’s it — give it to me, baby.” he panted, his eyes taking in the sight of you, how you were falling apart. “Take it, take it all, just let me do all the work, yeah, good girl.” One of his hands trailed down your body, to the back of your thigh, holding it up, using it as leverage to push into you.
He wouldn’t last long, he couldn’t. Not with the sounds coming out of your mouth, the way you looked. “You’re so damn pretty when you give it up, baby.”
“Dean,” You couldn’t help but moan, over and over, paired with the occasional shameless “yes”, eventually bringing him in for a hungry, sloppy kiss, feeling the pendant on his necklace cool against your skin.
“Ah—” he groaned against your lips, his kisses almost violent, more teeth than tongue than anything else. God, his name on your pretty lips was sinful, but he wanted to hear it again and again.
His hands continued to touch you everywhere they could, not missing a curve or angle, and just taking in the pure ecstasy of it all. “You look so perfect like this — all for me.” he panted against you, the coolness of the amulet was almost refreshing against his over-heated skin, he’ll had to admit, and seeing it between your tits? God, another bonus.
Ooh, an idea. You used your leg hooked around his waist, plus some hunter training, rolling you both over, immediately gripping the shitty-ass fabric and plush of the pillow so you could begin to move up and down, hitting that angle without missing a beat. “Sh—Shit.”
Oh, oh wow, he had to take a few deep breaths. He didn’t expect you to suddenly roll the two of you over but he certainly wasn’t complaining. You looked so damn perfect on top of him, like a goddamn dream. He gripped onto your hips, helping you move, a moan leaving his lips as you kept up the pace.
“That’s it baby doll, good girl—“ he couldn’t help but babble. “Can’t keep my hands off you.” He panted, staring up at you. “Doing all the work, look at you— I ain’t gonna last, sweetheart, please tell me you’re almost there.”
“M’ almost there.” The sentence came out as a moan, seeing him in his glory, amulet on his chest, all ridges of muscle and soft skin, your other hand gripping the headboard as you moved, assisted by his hands on your hips, calloused pads of his fingers pressing into your skin. “P—Please, baby, a—almost there, so, so close—”
“Just— just come with me, please— please—” He panted, his hands gripping your hips so tight, he knew that he’d leave marks, but he’d deal with it later. Right at that moment, he was just lost in the feeling.
“Come on, give it to me, baby, I wanna see it, wanna feel it.” He was desperate, but a gentleman, he wanted you to reach it first. You were absolutely too gorgeous for words, and he was nearly going feral— his mouth went dry. “Good girl, good girl, good girl, c’mon — oh, c’mon—”
The coil in your stomach snapped as you came, pure, unbridled euphoria and uninhibited ecstasy, your eyes rolling back, hips stuttering and pressing into his hands as your thighs shook, but you kept on to get him there. “O-Oh, baby, c-c’mon, Dean, please— please—”
Sweet mother of god.
Your voice, your movements, your face, it all just pushed him over that final edge, and a loud moan tore out of his throat as he rode it out. “God, baby doll, god—” was all he could manage.
He didn’t even realise his eyes fluttered shut. He was panting heavily, his chest rising and falling, the amulet resting gently between his pectorals. “Oh god, baby girl, c’mere— come here.” He muttered, hands gripping your hips, pulling you down. He just wanted to feel you against him— wait, what? The burn wasn’t going, it just wasn’t.
“Dean.” You whined, letting out a frustrated moan. “S’wasn’t enough, I can still feel it. Still feel it, baby.” You panted, keeping yourself up. Well, of course this thing wasn’t a one-and-done. You already broke all the cardinal rules of friendship without compunction, but now you had to do it again? Wow. Great going.
“I know sweetheart, I know.” He breathed, eyes opening, and looking up at you, the corners of his lips slightly turned up. He could feel it too, it was like something was missing, and he didn’t know what it was.
He pulled you down, and held you against his chest as he caught his breath. One of his hands moved to the side of your face, and he gently guided you into a soft kiss, the other hand moving down and squeezing your ass. “God, I need you so goddamn much.”
“Mhmm. Need you too.” You whined, your kisses becoming more insistent, needier— ok, don’t blame you, it seems to affect women more. “Can you— need you t’ take over, Dean.”
A small smirk appeared on his lips as you began to become more needy. “Don’t mind if I do, sweetheart.” He growled against your lips. He pushed you off of him, and rolled the two of you over, so you were now beneath him again, and his body was above yours.
“You want me to take over, huh?” He questioned, his lips moving to your neck, leaving nips and open-mouthed kisses over the skin. “You want me to take care of you?” His hips started snapping against you, a groan leaving his lips, cause oh, Jesus.
Woah, ok, you could get used to this. Especially with how you moaned, nodding desperately, leaving red marks on his shoulders and arms, his amulet touching the valley of your now bouncing tits with every thrust again, head tipping back as his cock brushed your cervix, hearing his grunts and pants in your ear mixed with your moans.
He couldn’t help the smirk that stayed on his lips as you clawed at his skin. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? You like it when I take care of you?” He questioned, his mouth against your neck, his hips snapping against you, desperate to hear the pretty sounds leaving your lips.
“Tell me how much you like it, baby girl, go on.” His words were punctuated by a sharp bite to your shoulder, the other hand gripping your hip.
“Love it, Dean, fuck.” You gasped, your eyes rolling back, the knot in your stomach coming faster this time, scratching at his hips, the hot-ass dip in his back— anything you could reach, really, you weren’t picky.
“That’s it baby girl, there you go—“ he panted, his hips thrusting against yours, just pushing you closer and closer, his mouth against your skin still, leaving open-mouthed kisses and harsh bites.
The sounds you were making were just pushing him closer and closer, he was just desperate for you, and he couldn’t control the words that blurted out of his mouth. “God, you look so damn perfect baby, so damn pretty, so much better than I ever dreamed—“ Sure, he just revealed that he’d thought about this, but he still put your legs over his shoulders, leaning forward, splitting you in half and thrusting into you.
The new angle made your mouth fall open in a perfect ‘o’, and the feeling just overwhelmed your brain, made your body go positively wild, and you could swear some drool dribbled from the corner of your mouth. “D-Dean—”
Christ, he’s never seen anything so pretty.
He groaned as he took in the sight of you, your legs over his shoulders. “You like that, huh? You like it when I—“ his words were cut off with a strangled moan, you were just so perfect, he was never going to be able to get enough.
He managed to make a few more noises, some of them resembling your name, before he just dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “Baby— baby, need to come again in you, can I?“
You made a noise that sounded like a moaned yes, and you’d never known that being split in half by a guy would ever feel this good, your hands braced on the underside of your thighs. Well, that was a confirmation.
He groaned as he felt you nod against his shoulder, words being lost on him after that. That was a yes, a good, proper yes. He didn’t even know what he was saying, all that he knew was that he needed to give you it. So he just gave it to you hard, and fast, not letting up an inch. “Good girl, good girl, you’re doing so good, taking it so well, baby doll—” all the while, he panted against your skin.
He groaned against your skin, his mouth pressed to your shoulder. Hearing that, feeling you around him, he was done for, he was gone— “Yeah, baby, oh, you’re so good, so good, feels so damn good, I’m coming baby, I’m gonna—“
He let out a strangled moan, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode it out, burying his face into the crook of your neck, panting, grunting, smoothing your hair back as he spilled into you with a low moan.
You stroked his hair, helping him come down from it, feeling tired out— I mean, at least the pollen’s fucked out, right? Just… you hated witches now. You get Dean’s point— you didn’t before, but now you do.
He let out a weary groan, breathing still laboured and his skin was still flushed. When he came to and registered that you were stroking his hair, he let his head fall onto your chest, his head against your tits. Mm, like a pillow, feels s’nice.
“God, that was intense.” He whispered against your skin. “You okay, sweetheart?” He was spent, absolutely boneless and limp, and just content to lay there and bask in the aftermath of what you’d just done.
“Better than before.” You breathed, nodding, rubbing your cheek. “S’ not as sore as I thought it’d be, if I’m bein’ honest. But now I get why you hate witches.”
He let out a chuckle, which just sounds more like a quiet scoff, and he lifted his head up to look at you, a slight smirk on his lips. “Oh yeah? You get it now, huh?” His head returned to its original position after a few moments, and he nuzzled against you, an arm wrapping around your waist. “Not sore, huh? I didn’t go too hard on ya, did I?”
“No, but, uh…” You grinned cheekily. “Being carried to the bath would be much appreciated.” Oh, the little shit.
Of course.
He lifted his head to look at you, an entertained and amused look on his face. “Oh, you’re gonna be real cute, aren’t you?” He questioned, and then in a quick movement, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you against his chest.
TAGLIST:
@goldngguk @sweetpeachbombshell @slut-for-stiles @staple-your-mouth @daddyscrimsstuff
@dob-4-life @marcis-mixtapez @nonoreas0n @gabrielasilva1510
@lucyholmes13 @pandadork-blog1 @nicolstancu @malusinhaaaa @dybalabandolero
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@1-800-dean-winchester
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@lyarr24 @ximm19
@a-girl-who-loves-disney @jeneelsworld @deans-spinster-witch @deanspinsterwitchs-readinglist @kayleighwinchester
@cheynovak
special tags for my boos: @jasvtsc @deanswidow @beausling @titsout4nicholas @figthoughts
@deansbite
#dean winchester#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x fem reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester blurb#dean winchester x you#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester imagines#dean imagine#dean smut#dean winchester angst#dean x female!reader#dean x y/n#dean x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester imagine#dean x you#dean angst#dean fluff#supernatural#supernatural x female reader#supernatural smut#jensen ackles#jensen ackles smut
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warnings: sub-ish!dean, breeding kink (whoops!)
sorry, i'm a sucker for sub dean, dont blame me
He was mesmerized, looking at where your bodies connected, as your slick made his dick shine under the poor lightning of the motel. He refused to tear his eyes away from it.
You were gripping him so tight and so good, the way you clenched around him making him practically whimper in your ear. You were eager to take more out of him, his noises bringing even more arousal to your hazy mind.
He held your hips strongly, his fingers squeezing everytime you grinded your hips back on his. His head was burried in your neck leaving wet kisses and dark hickeys where he could. Dean was desperate for you.
"You feel s'good" He panted and you groaned. He sounded high, drunk on your scent and the smell of sex that filled the room. "So warm and so, fuck- and so tight, God, please"
He sobbed, your hands roaming his back, one of them going up to his hair. You tug on it, making Dean let out a high pitched groan. Your mouth comes closer to his ear.
"Tell me what you want baby" Your voice deep with desire. A shiver runs down his spine and his hips falter slightly at your slight dominance. "You wanna fill me up, hm? Go around telling everyone that you were the one who fucked a baby in me?"
Dean moaned at that, one of his hands unconsciously went to rest over your belly, gently pressing over it. You had to supress a moan as the weight of his hand made his cock seem to be deeper.
"G- Please, please, I'll do anything" He lifted his head to leave a sloppy kiss over your lips, his forehead glued to yours "I'll fill you up so g-uh good, please baby"
You kissed the side of his mouth, not giving him the satisfaction of an actual kiss. "Do it Dean, just be a good boy and make me cum first" You ordered as your hand caressed his cheek and he viciously nodded, his thumb almost immediately going to circle your clit.
"Y-yes...I will, thank you, thank you" He thanked you and started fucking into you harder, stimulating your clit to make you orgasm so he could get his reward afterwards because, after all, he would always be your good boy.
So, yeah, another drabble. I have a couple requests pending and I apologize for that, life's been kicking my ass lately and I've got no motivation to write whatsoever, enjoy the drabbles while I come back to normal LMAO
#supernatural#supernatural fandom#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural imagine#supernatural smut#supernatural x reader#spn fic#spn fanfic#spn fanfiction#spn#spn imagine#dean winchester smut#dean winchester fanfiction#dean x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x you#dean winchester x female!reader#sub dean
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but like imagine dean fucking you with sam asleep in the same room… 18+ ⋆˚⟡˖ ࣪
— smut, caught in the act (dean x fem!reader)
*°࿐
“mmmph-”
you moaned against dean’s hand as he rocked his cock up into you, his tip brushing against your cervix.
“shhh, baby…” he cooed quietly, glancing over at his brother asleep in the bed next to yours.
“mmm, can’t…” you murmured against dean’s hand, following his gaze to the younger winchester. sam’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, his lips parted as soft breaths flowed in and out of his lungs.
dean’s hand stayed clamped over your mouth as his eyes flickered back to yours. your walls squeezed around him in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from gushing down his length again; you knew you couldn’t stay quiet if that happened.
“baby, come on,” dean muttered through laboured breaths, “shhhh.”
you couldn’t help the little whimpers and grunts that escaped you as dean continued to thrust his hips up into you, his girthy cock stretching your pussy so deliciously.
“ahh, dean,” you moaned out, squeezing your eyes shut as the pleasure continued to build.
“shhh…” dean whispered again, his cock twitching up into your cunt, “you wake sammy, babe, and he’ll be so mad.”
you felt your pussy tighten around dean’s cock again, nearing another orgasm at the thought of getting caught in such a compromising position. dean bit his bottom lip and scrunched his face, trying to hold in a groan at the feeling. he was barely keeping himself together.
the quiet but lewd sounds of him pumping into your wet cunt filled the room, along with both your soft grunts and the squeaking of the motel bed.
sam let out a groan and rolled over to face you and dean. you both froze, watching and waiting for his hazel eyes to flicker open and catch you two in the act.
but they didn’t. instead they stayed shut. dean hesitantly slid himself back up into you, keeping his eyes on his brother. you watched sam too.
your thoughts started racing around in your head and you couldn’t deny it, some fucked up part of you kinda wanted to get caught riding dean.
dean’s fingers began rubbing your sensitive clit again, making you whimper as he thrusted in and out of you.
“shush, i’m serious.”
you pouted against his hand, “c-can’t… feels too good…”
he gripped your face tighter, “we’ll have to stop if you can’t keep quiet, baby.”
his words sent a flash of panic through your body, your head instantly shaking as you grinded on him, desperate to show him you can be good.
“that’s it. nice and quiet,” he said breathily, feeling you clench around him even more, knowing you were about to let go, “stay quiet for me, angel.”
you hissed and tried to hold back whimpers as you came all over his cock again, your juices leaving a creamy ring around his length as he pumped into you.
dean groaned at the feeling of you gushing all over his cock. his own release washed over him. he shot thick warm ropes of his seed deep into your cunt, making you whimper and clench again as his hips jerked up. he pulled you down against him and buried his head in your neck, letting out louder grunts and moans.
“can you guys shut the fuck up?” sam groaned. you felt a pillow hit the side of you as you laid flat on dean, his softening cock still inside you. you laughed softly in dean’s ear.
“sorry, sammy,” dean smirked as he rubbed your back. he moved his head to look over at his brother, who had turned away and pulled the blanket over his head completely.
dean laughed and pulled you even closer to him, wrapping his arms around you as he whispered in your ear, “oops.”
A/N: wrote and edited this high so ignore it if something’s grammatically incorrect or doesn’t make sense LOL anyways poor sam :( i’m laughing so hard
requests and feedback are welcome and encouraged!! thank uuu <3
#༢ུ࿓ fig writes.ᐟ#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester drabble#supernatural#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles smut#jensen ackles drabble#sam winchester#supernatural smut#supernatural drabble
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i got you — sam winchester ꒦꒷ kinktober day five ; size kink
cw : gn!afab!reader, smut, inexperienced!reader, it's their first time together, reader described as generally smaller than sam, sam calls reader pretty & beautiful, pet names (baby, love, honey, darling), kissing, marking, lil bit of biting, praise, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don't try at home sillies), poorly edited, 4.1K words. MDNI !!! 18+ ONLY.
the moment that sam splays his hands on your waist, you know that you’re done for. his hands are so goddamn big and with him so close it feels like he’s just towering over you. he’s trying to be gentle and soft, but the way his hands tense and squeeze lightly at your sides tells you that he’s holding back already. what’ll it be like when he has you naked and splayed out on the bed?
that’s what he’s thinking about. when he kisses you, long, hard, and deep, and you moan softly into it, he’s already going crazy. he really can’t help but walk you back into the wall and kiss you against it. and when your back arches as he pushes his hand into the small of your back? he’s practically at war with himself. he wonders how the hell he’ll be able to go soft and slow like he wants his first time with you to be when you’re already tugging at his loosely tethered control.
he reaches up, smoothing soft knuckles over your cheek bone as he parts to give you both a moment to breathe. just a second ago, he practically had his tongue down your throat and you had whined around it and he had gripped your sides. and your hands, soft and small against his body had roamed his waist and chest. now the pads of your fingers press into the skin where his broad shoulders curve up into his neck and it’s driving him up the wall.
sam presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth as you pant lightly. “you still alright, honey?” he whispers against your skin. you tilt your head to press your lips back over his, softly this time. you hum a quiet yes.
“‘m perfect, love,” you murmur. you can actually feel his lips stretch into a soft smile before he presses another sweet kiss to your lips.
“can i take you to the bed now?” he asks sweetly, voice still hushed.
you think you could melt right into the floorboards. “please.” he doesn’t hesitate then, sliding his hands down until he’s got his fingers wrapped around the backside of your thighs. when he said take, you didn’t know he meant that literally, but you certainly don’t complain when he hauls you up and wraps your legs around his waist. you gasp in surprise, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself. “sam.” his name escapes your lips naturally, and he has the audacity to grin at you as he walks you over to the bed.
he sets you down on the side gently, though he likes the idea of flat out throwing you onto the bed someday. he’s just that much bigger than you, and he’s going to want to take full advantage of it.
you’re slow in your movements as you slide your arms away from his neck, unable to hold back your own smile in response to his. he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, and when he leans back a bit and reopens his eyes, he realizes that your hands have drifted to the hem of your shirt. silently, his breath catches in his throat and he watches you pull the garment off. he can’t help but stare, certainly not when your chest still visibly rises and falls with labored breath.
he only remembers to pull off his own shirt when his gaze flicks up to catch your eyes hungrily staring at the way his chest stretches out the grey fabric. you think if you look at his bare torso long enough, you’ll start drooling, so you lay back against the pillows and meet his eyes instead, inviting him closer.
and in an instant, sam is all over you, his body, his hands. his hips are pressed over yours and he’s hard. he’s hard and he’s big; you can easily tell. and you expected nothing more, but to feel it against your own crotch, hot and in the flesh, is like an awakening. whether said awakening is rude or glorious, you’re unsure. maybe it’s both. glorious because wow, and rude because how are you going to fit it all?
but there’s not much time to think about that when his lips are back on yours, his warm hands are on your bare waist, and then he’s kissing down your jaw.
everything about your first time with him is gentle and hungry all at once. the way he sucks at your skin is soft, and he doesn’t bite very hard, but he does bite. his teeth on your neck make you moan sweetly and he can never get enough. next time he’ll see if you like it when he bites to mark. tonight, he’ll just suckle and lick until you lightly bruise.
and then there’s his hands, his fingertips that push into the plush of your skin and roam over the fabric of your bra, and his wide palms and calluses that catch on and smooth over you skin. he touches like he worships you and he touches like you’re his. he envelopes your skin with his and he squeezes, but never too hard. he spends most of his energy holding back.
your own hands slide up the expanse of his back and you imagine how small they look on his shoulder blades, which stretch out so wide and broad. you feel the dips and grooves of his muscles, and the softer bits of flesh by his hips, right above the waistline of his jeans. and his chest. it’s so damn wide, softer than you expect when you palm at it. he groans against the column of your neck and the sound sends a shiver through you.
he works you up like there’s nothing to it, like it’s his damn mission. he whispers and grunts out all sorts of things that send your heart racing, the blood to your cheeks, and a rush of heat to your belly.
you’re so damn pretty. you sound so nice for me. i love you, baby. so small underneath me.
when he says that, you groan real loud and he takes notice. those words had been almost accidental. they had just slipped out, but it was the loudest thing in his mind when he opened his mouth to say something sweet.
“yeah?” he murmurs against your skin. “you like bein’ smaller than me?” he doesn’t intend to tease or to be mean tonight, but he really can’t help it. maybe because he likes it just as much as you do. he damn loves it.
you let out a small, muffled sound and he knows his words are getting to you. “i do,” you whisper, voice hoarse and the slightest bit bashful. his hands on your ribs tighten, and he gives the meat of your shoulder a good nip.
“just a tiny thing compared to me, huh?” he mumbles, tilting his head so that his breath tickles the shell of your ear. you let out a puff of air, struggling with your composure.
your face and neck warm considerably at his words. you wonder if he can feel the heat of all that rushing blood under your skin. you’re not used to hearing these kinds of words, the kind that makes you all hot and flustered and beyond turned on. you don’t quite know how to respond, so you just say whatever your dazed mind comes up with. “you’re so big,” you huff out.
sam presses his face into your neck, groaning lowly at those words. he doesn’t think that’s the last time you’ll be saying them tonight.
“yeah, baby,” he murmurs before giving your skin a good little lick. like he knows he’s so big. like all of him is big. like he’s secretly got an ego about it. gosh, you just might die tonight.
you don’t realize what you’re doing until sam moans into the skin of your neck again, low and pleasured. his hand slides up a little, grabbing at your chest over your bra as if he’s trying to hold onto something so that he can hold back. then you register that you’ve begun to roll your hips up into his. it’s not fair you’re already so hazy with lust that your body’s started to move on its own accord. you’re just chasing whatever feels best in the moment, and right now it’s his bulging hard-on right over your clothed cunt.
you want his cock bad, and when you push up against him with more intent, sam knows it.
“hold on, baby.” his voice is gruff, and his other hand slides down to carefully pin your hips to the bed. he shifts up, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. then he looks you in the eyes, and you wonder how someone’s gaze could be so soft and adoring while also screaming i want to fuck you stupid. you wish he’d fuck you stupid, but you’re also glad he’s being all gentle and sweet. “i’ll give you anything you want tonight, but i gotta get you ready first, okay?”
he says it all soft because he really means it. he’ll give you anything at all. but the implications of his words send you reeling because it means that he just knows you won’t be able to take him right away.
“m’kay,” you breathe out, trying not to shy away from his gaze.
he’s so perfect, it’s hard to believe he’s real. he smiles at you, then asks if he can take the rest of your clothes off. you agree eagerly, pulling your bra off yourself and lifting your hips to help him with your pants and underwear. and then he looks at you like you’re the finest, most stunning thing he’s ever seen, and ever will see.
sam kisses down your body. “you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs into the skin of your belly. “so, so beautiful.” he looks up at you when he says it, voice and eyes full of true awe. he’s practically enthralled by you. he loves you so damn much.
he takes his sweet time, dipping his hand between your legs, swiping lightly at your slit before rubbing softly over your sensitive nub.
you gasp out and he hums contentedly, intertwining the fingers of his free hand through yours.
he wants to make a comment about how wet you are. you’re honest to god soaked. but he thinks it might make you feel a little too shy, so he holds back. instead he just whispers, “i got you.”
and he does. he has you. you’re so ready to give your all to him. you’re not so nervous anymore. not that you ever were all that nervous because it’s sam, but all he does is make you feel loved and good. his rough finger pads, all careful and skilled on your pretty clit, already have you sighing back into the pillows, your breath quickening and hips eager.
he pulls soft moans from you, holding your hand tenderly and tightly. “that’s it, baby,” he says. “so pretty.” he talks all soft and sweet, words blending with each other like he’s got a million praises that he’s got to get out.
when you squeeze his hand real tight, wrap your other fingers around his bicep, and buck your hips up towards him, he reads you easily.
“you want more, love?” he asks, just to be sure. he’d hate to rush you. but he’s right, and you nod eagerly.
“please,” you huff softly. he’s got you. he’s all delicate and steady when his middle finger prods at your entrance, slipping in slowly so as to not overwhelm you. the second that he’s knuckle deep, it’s already something new and better than ever. you’ve never been with anyone who had such perfect, long fingers. the difference between yours and his is clear and noticeable and already you feel like he’s so deep inside you.
sam would do anything to be able to bottle up the noise that you make and drink from it every night. he’d never need beer or whiskey every again. and this would be so much sweeter and far more potent than any alcohol he could buy. he’s quick to lean over and kiss you on the lips. otherwise, he’d truly just go insane.
you’re so warm and wet around his thick finger, your walls fluttering and just perfect to him. he needs his dick in you.
he starts to move and your lips part against his, letting the sweetest sounds out. “god, you sound so pretty,” he groans. he loves to hear you. so instead of feeling a little sheepish about how easily he makes you moan and whine, you let him hear it all.
and when he gently adds that second finger, your moan is choked and desperate. sam thinks that your voice alone could get him there. his cock throbs in his jeans, the restriction practically painful at this point. but he ignores it because you’re clenching around his fingers, sucking him in so good.
“s-so big,” you pant out. “your fingers are so big,” you groan.
sam curses softly under his breath. “you’re takin’em so good, baby. doin’ so good,” he praises, still tender as he pushes in and out of you until he easily finds that spongey spot in you. your back arches right off the bed and your moans jump in volume. he brushes his thumb over your knuckles soothingly. “that’s it,” hey croons quietly, giving a little groan of his own.
“you’ll let me make you cum on my fingers, yeah?” he asks gruffly. you’re not sure why he even asks, because who in their right mind would ever turn that down?
“g-gah, ah, yes,” you moan breathlessly. “p-please.” you sound a little desperate and rushed, like you’re worried about that not happening.
“okay, i will,” he assures you, “i will, baby, don’t worry. i got you.” he kisses your cheek like you’re the most precious thing in the world. to him, you are. and he fingerfucks you like he’s never wanted to make someone feel so good this badly. that very well could be true too. he’s attentive, sweet, and gets so deep.
he’s kissing up and down your neck and jaw when he feels and hears your stuttering breaths, needy moans, and lightly trembling, twitching legs. your hand glides up from his bicep to the back of his neck, tangling with the soft hair there and pressing into his skin.
“i got you,” he says again, meaning it with his everything as your thighs tense around his forearm. “so good. you feel so good, darlin’. such a pretty pussy, baby.”
“oh, god,” you choke out, absolutely clutching at him wherever you can to uselessly stay grounded. “gonna cum, sammy.”
sam knows better than anything that those words tumbling from your mouth is the best thing he’s ever heard. he could combust from how cute you are, how fucking good you sound like this. and he really can’t help but go just a little faster, a little harder. “yeah, baby? you’re gettin’ close, huh? i got you.” he wants you to know it.
“mhmm,” you hum, voice turned all whiny and breathless. “gonna cum!”
“okay,” he grunts, still trying to sound nice and sweet for you. “go ahead and cum for me. cum for me, honey. whenever you need, baby, i’ve got you.” so easily, his words tip you right over the edge.
you grip his hand and the back of his neck, panting and moaning loudly as you just soak his fingers. and he wants to keep his face buried in your neck to kiss and lick and whisper praises into your skin, but he has to see your face as he makes you cum for the first time.
“oh, god, baby, you look so pretty. so good f’me,” he groans, practically high himself off the way you look and sound. then, he plants his face back into your neck, kissing and sucking as he keeps crooking his fingers inside you, working you through it so good, drawing out the pleasure for you as long as he can. he only stops when you go almost limp against the bed, breathing heavily still, but quieter now. the shudder he gets from you when he pulls his fingers out is satisfying and so cute that he can’t help but coo at you softly. “that’s it, darling. you did so good.”
he gently untangles his hand from yours, just so he can smooth his palm over the side of your face. he kisses the side of your mouth and stays quiet and slow as you catch your breath.
you turn your head a little. “so good,” you mumble into the skin of his cheek. “made me feel so good, sammy.”
“i’m always gonna make you feel good,” he replies with ease and assurance. “you deserve it.” if your face weren’t already as hot with pleasure as it could get, your cheeks would flush with heat at those words, the bashful and in love kind of heat. you want to say thank you, but you’re pretty sure he’ll tell you not to. he wants to make you feel good. he loves it.
you tug him down a little, and he settles on the bed, half of his body pressed right over yours as he nuzzles his nose into the warm skin of your neck. that’s when you’re reminded of his raging hard-on; it presses right into your thigh. you’re quiet about it for just one minute in order to relax and catch your breath, like you know sam would want you to. but you just want him even more than before, so the second you feel like you can, you squeeze your hands into the tight space between your bodies and lightly fumble with the button of his jeans.
he turns his body to make room, but stops you with gentle fingers around your waist. “hey,” he murmurs. “it’s alright. just breathe a minute, baby.” you give him a little smile, then peck his lips.
“i did breathe a minute,” you counter, voice just as soft as his own. “’m ready.”
he holds back a low groan. “you sure?”
“i’m sure,” you breathe, nodding a little. you’re really, really sure.
he relents, loosening his hold on your wrist as an invitation to keep going. “alright.” his fingers don’t leave your wrist though, staying wrapped around you to feel it as you undo his pants. after that, he helps you with the rest, taking care of getting his boxers and jeans all the way off and to the floor.
sam stays settled on the bed next to you, not moving over you to start quite yet. he still wants to go slow, even with the dribble of milky white precum on his tip and the fact that he’s as hard and turned on as he’s ever been.
and it’s there, heavy, hot, and so goddamn big as it rests on the flesh of your thigh. it’s your turn to hold back a moan. you can’t help but stare a little. if feeling his cock against you, stuck in the confines of his jeans was like an awakening, seeing it sit on your thigh must be an entire revelation. or something like that. you’re unsure, because you’re not really thinking much right now. it’s just that question again. how are you gonna fit it all?
of course, sam sees you staring. you look as if the sight of his cock alone is making you overwhelmed. you look like you want him to fuck you silly with it. and you look like you wanna touch.
“you can touch me, baby,” he murmurs, trying to sound more reassuring rather than completely gone for you. your eyes flick up to his, looking a little flustered. you’ll tell him to stop if you need. he knows that, so he takes your smaller hand in his and guides it over to his rock-hard dick. the moment you’re close enough, you wrap your fingers around it. his breath stutters and his own hand shifts back to loosely hold your wrist. then you slowly push your hand up and down his length, causing him to suck in a sharp breath and let out a guttural groan.
you don’t really know what you’re doing, but you’re pretty sure that’s okay. you know he doesn’t intend to make you get him off like this, not tonight. you’ll ask him to teach you how to do it just right some other time. you just wanna touch it. feel how hot and heavy it is in your hand, imagine what it’ll be like in your pulsing cunt. you’re aching for him again already. his hips twitch and he moans a little louder when you swipe your thumb over his tip to feel his precum and rub it all over.
“fuck, baby,” he curses, voice strained and dangerously quiet. you realize you’re practically teasing him like this, so you hesitantly pull your hand away and look at him with pretty eyes.
“’m ready now. please, sammy.” you know he’ll give in if you ask like that. it takes the blink of an eye for his all encompassing body to hover right over yours again. he kisses you, not so gentle this time. it’s all tongue and teeth, and short lived, because he has to feel you.
you whine softly when he takes his dick in his hand and slowly rubs the tip between your slick lips. he presses it over your clit just to make you jolt a little in pleasure. then he lines it up with your leaking hole and stills, looking you in the eye with an impressively sincere expression plastered over his features.
“you gotta tell me if it’s too much, baby,” he urges you, voice filled with such genuine care that just makes you want to be filled with his cock more than ever, “promise you’ll tell me if it starts to hurt, or you wanna stop, or anything at all, okay?”
“i promise,” you nod, chest heaving a little with labored breath.
“good,” he breathes out, his voice pulled tight again. “okay, baby. just breathe. try to relax.” you do your best to just that, focusing on your breath as he slowly pushes into you, his big hand tightly holding your waist. he hisses through his teeth and you mewl.
he soaks in the sight of your eyes rolling back, your jaw going slack, and your hands flying to grip the sheets. he’d bathe in the sight if he could. he stops just after the tip and you’re already panting. you’ve barely taken any of him, but he’s so thick. you can’t believe how damn full you’re going to feel.
“o-oh, fuck,” you whine, “sammy. you’re so big.” there are those words again, so fucking pretty tumbling out from your parted lips.
“i know, baby,” he groans, “it’s okay. you’re doin’ so good, you feel so fucking good.” he’s not over exagerrating. he’s giving you a minute to get used to this new feeling of something so thick and hot inside of you, and to have your warm cunt throbbing around just his tip is so good, he thinks he could cum just like this if he let himself. instead, he pushes in a little more when he thinks it’s alright.
the way you moan is broken and heavenly. already, he knows it’s gonna be too much for you. “that’s it. i got you, baby,” he says anyway. his restraint is held up by a thread, but he’ll keep it together. just for you, for his baby. sam gives you another long moment, one big hand caressing up and down your side while the other holds your hips steady.
“m-more, please,” you whine. god, he’s newly obsessed with the way you get a little brainless and whiny when he has you like this.
"you sure you can take it?" sam rumbles.
"we can make it fit," you pant out. he groans, overcome for a moment with the urge to just take you.
"yeah," he grunts, no longer schooling his words to be sweet and gentle for you. "yeah, we can make it fit, baby." his voice is so low, it's practically a growl. "we can make it fit," he echoes again, the way you said those words like a damn drug to him. the look in his eyes is so full of lust that it's practically dazed. he looks like he's going to devour you whole.
tonight, he knows you can't really make it fit. he's gonna inch his way into you until you’re too full to take any more. he’s guessing you’ll make it halfway. so he’ll make you cum on half his length and it's gonna be so hot to him that when he pulls out and sees your sweet liquids dripping from your stretched out hole, he's gonna cum in thick, hot spurts all over your cute tummy.
but eventually, you'll make it fit.
TAGLIST
⟢ SPN; general (all supernatural fics, including nsfw so your age must be 18+ and visible on your blog) : @toadspondofwhimsy ; @mxltifxnd0m ; @bloodysammy ; @angelicjackles ; @ohsc ; @chevroletdean ; @prentissluvr .
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Help Me Remember
Pairing: Dean Winchester x wife!reader
Summary: Your memories have been taken from you and it's up to Dean to get them back.
Warnings: Angsty af, memory loss, canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (M & F receiving), light face fucking, unprotected sex (P in V), biting (minimal), dirty talk.
Three Weeks Ago
"God almighty, what is that smell?"
You were doing your best to avoid inhaling too deeply--the stench uncomfortably strong. "Rotting flesh."
"Dead body?" Dean asked.
You nodded. "Several, I think."
"Great." Dean stepped in front of you, the instinct to protect you always foremost in his mind. He stepped through the open doorway, quickly enveloped by darkness.
You heard him grunt lowly and you stepped forward, trying to see through the darkness, but even your flashlight didn't penetrate it much. "Dean?"
When he didn't respond, you felt a tightening in your chest. "Dean?" you called again, a little louder.
The silence was deafening--sending cold chills down your back as you stepped farther into the room. "Babe? Answer me."
You took another step forward and your foot collided with something sturdy on the floor in front of you. You trained your flashlight downwards and inhaled sharply as the light illuminated a body at your feet. "Dean!"
You dropped to your knees beside him to check for a pulse, foolishly opening yourself up to attack in such a vulnerable moment.
The last sound you heard was a dark cackle coming from your right just before you were plunged into complete darkness.
Dean awoke with a low groan, rubbing his temples in an attempt to alleviate the throbbing in his head. It took him several moments to get his bearings and remember where he was. As soon as the memories clicked in his mind, he called out your name. You didn't respond and he felt a cold desperation wrap around his heart.
"(Y/N)!" he yelled as he pulled himself off the floor. "Sweetheart? Where are you?"
He was met with complete silence, making his blood run cold. He couldn't find the flashlight he'd been carrying, so he pulled out his phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it into the darkness around him.
He immediately noticed the stench from earlier had dissipated, as had the total darkness that surrounded him in the moments before he'd lost consciousness. His flashlight had barely cut through the blackness, but his phone was able to light up the majority of the room around him with relative ease.
The room was completely empty. Not a single rotting corpse to be seen. No cause for the smell from earlier, nor any sign of what had caused the room to be plunged into complete darkness. More importantly, there was no sign of you.
Dean immediately ran from the room, hurriedly searching the rest of the abandoned home in the hopes of finding you passed out like he had been. When he'd searched every room to no avail, his panic had risen to untenable levels.
He called your phone, but it immediately went to voicemail. He left a frantic message before hanging up and calling Sam.
His brother answered on the second ring. "Dean? Everything okay?"
"Is (Y/N) with you?"
Sam could hear the panic in Dean's voice, causing his heart to race. "No...she was with you on that hunt in Colorado."
"I can't find her anywhere."
"What do you mean you can't find her?"
"I mean, I got knocked out and when I woke up she was gone. I've searched the whole damn house--she's gone, Sam!"
"Okay, breathe. She wouldn't leave you, so she's gotta be there somewhere."
"Well something knocked me out, Sam--and whatever the hell it was had to have taken (Y/N/N)."
"That doesn't make sense, Dean. You said it was a ghost--a basic haunting."
"Yeah that's what we thought it was! Clearly we were wrong."
"Alright, alright," Sam said in a soothing voice. "I'll pack a bag and head your way--we'll find her."
Dean let out a pained sound. "Hurry."
"I will."
**********
Present
You groaned in annoyance, rolling over in bed to slam your hand on the snooze of your alarm. When the incessant noise stopped, you sighed quietly, staring at the ceiling as light filtered in through the window.
You wanted to get out of bed and go to work about as much as you wanted to get hit by a car, but unfortunately the bills wouldn't pay themselves.
You dragged yourself out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a quick shower before getting ready for work. Thirty minutes later, you were grabbing your bag and heading out the door.
When you reached the office, you sat in your car for a few minutes, gathering whatever strength you had to get out of your car and walk through those doors. You hated your job--this office life was simply not for you. It was boring, but the paycheck was decent and you didn't have any other options.
You'd only had the job for a few weeks--it would be embarrassing to quit so soon after starting. Besides, the work was easy and your coworkers were nice enough.
You sighed quietly before getting out of the car and heading into the office building. You were greeted by several of your coworkers and you said your good mornings as you made your way to your office.
The day passed by uneventfully, just as every single day of the past few weeks seemed to. When 5pm rolled around, you packed up your things and left for the day. You decided to stop and get Chinese food on your way home--the urge to cook about as far away as the country of China was.
After picking up dinner, you made your way home. As you pulled into your driveway, you noticed an old black muscle car parked in front of your neighbor's house. You thought it odd given your neighbor was out of town, but the thought was gone as quickly as it came as your stomach grumbled hungrily.
You grabbed your things and headed inside, dropping your keys and purse by the front door. You tugged your shoes off, silently cursing whoever created high heels. You sat your food on the kitchen island and went to the fridge to grab a beer.
You plopped down at the island, quickly pulling the containers of delicious food from the bag. You groaned happily as you took a bite of food--finally sating the grumbling of your stomach.
Mid-bite, you heard a noise upstairs, causing you to freeze. You listened closely, almost certain there was someone in your house. You grabbed a large knife from the knife block on the counter and made your way slowly towards the stairs.
You went up them as quietly as you could, stopping on the landing to listen for more noises. You heard movement at the end of the hall, where your office was. You made your way toward the room, holding the knife in front of you.
When you rounded the corner, you saw a man standing in your office, looking through your desk. You steeled yourself before stepping fully into the room, yelling "hey!" as you entered.
The man looked up at you and froze, eyes flicking between your face and the knife in your hand. "Woah, easy there, sweetheart."
"Who are you and why are you in my house?"
The man looked slightly confused. "It's me, (Y/N)."
"How the hell do you know my name?"
The man started to come around to the front of your desk and you stepped towards him, brandishing the knife in what you hoped was a menacing manner. The man was significantly larger than you, but you didn't feel the fear you expected to feel. You felt oddly certain you could hold your own against him in a fight--which made zero sense to you. You'd never been in a fight in your life.
"Easy, (Y/N). Just put the knife down and we can talk."
"You broke into my house, asshole. No way am I putting down this knife."
His hands were still up in the air, but he didn't seem any more afraid of you than you were of him. "Okay, sweetheart, just relax. I can explain."
"Stop calling me that--I don't know you."
The man looked hurt by your words, but he seemed to shrug them off. "Sorry, sweet--shit. Sorry." He slowly lowered his hands, waiting for you to make a move. When you didn't, he lowered them completely. "My name is Dean Winchester."
He waited for a moment, hoping to see a flash of recognition on your face--but your expression remained blank. It was like a stab to the heart, but he continued. "Your name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You're 33 years old. Your parents' names are Lily and Carter. You were born in New Mexico, but you spent most of your formative years in London. You came back to the U.S. after the death of your parents when you were 19. We met a couple years later on a hunt in Arkansas. We've been inseparable ever since."
The hand holding the knife was shaking almost uncontrollably. There was no way he could know any of those things--you didn't talk about your parents or your childhood with anyone. Hell, you barely mentioned the existence of a personal life.
"How do you know all of that? I don't talk about my family with anyone."
"You did with me."
"But I don't know you--I've never seen you before in my life."
"Yes you have...you just don't remember."
"Excuse me?"
Dean sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Three weeks ago, you and I were on a hunt in Colorado. It seemed like a routine hunt...but something went wrong. I was knocked unconscious and you disappeared. I've spent the last three weeks searching for you."
"I've never been hunting a day in my life."
"Look, I know it's confusing and I understand why you don't believe me, but I swear to you, it's the truth."
Much to your surprise, every instinct in your body seemed to believe him...to believe this man you'd never seen before, to trust the man who'd broken into your home, to believe the insane story he was telling you.
You slowly lowered the knife and exhaled shakily. "I don't understand what's going on, but my gut instinct is to trust you."
Dean exhaled gratefully. "You can trust me."
"If you're fucking with me--" you raised the knife for emphasis, "I swear I will beat the shit out of you."
Dean laughed softly. "I'd expect nothing less."
You shot him an odd look and shook your head. "You hungry? I have Chinese food downstairs."
"Sure. I could eat."
You nodded towards the door. "You first sunshine."
He walked ahead of you, making his way down to the kitchen with you in tow. He sat down at the island and you sat across from him, setting the knife on the counter beside you.
"Want a beer?" you asked.
"Absolutely."
You pointed at the fridge. "Help yourself."
Once he had his beverage, he sat back down, eyes watching you intently. You could tell there was something he wanted to say, so you called him out on it.
"It's just...hard to see you like this."
"I'm sure it is. It's uncomfortable for me too."
He winced. "Sorry, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I've just really missed you."
You finally took a moment to really take in his features. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't the most attractive man you'd ever seen, but what really drew you in were his eyes. Sure they were a beautiful shade of green, but it was the warmth in them that made you feel comfortable. It was clear to you this Dean Winchester guy cared about you, even if you had zero clue as to why.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Of course," he answered.
"What am I to you?"
Dean inhaled sharply and his gaze drifted to the countertop in front of him. It was clear he wasn't sure how to answer that question--or if he should answer it. "I'm...I'm not sure I should answer that."
"I'm a big girl, Dean. Just tell me."
He looked back up at you, but when he opened his mouth, he didn't answer your question. "What do you remember of your life?"
"What?"
"Just tell me what you remember."
"Everything you said about my life was true. My name, my childhood, my parents...their deaths. I remember all of that. I remember moving back to the U.S....but I don't remember meeting you and I certainly don't remember hunting."
"So what have you been doing for the past 14 years?"
You closed your eyes for a moment, the memories infinitely more clear than the ones from your childhood. "I went to college and got a degree in marketing. Dated off and on, but no one had long-term potential. I had a few shitty jobs before finally landing the one at my current firm. I've been there a couple weeks, but I've got a corner office, a good paycheck, and decent coworkers."
"And do you like it? Marketing?"
You paused, considering your options before deciding to answer honestly. "It's boring, in all honesty, but it pays the bills."
"Do you ever think maybe you're meant for something more?"
You stared at him in surprise. You didn't know how he could possibly know that...you'd never shared that particular thought with anyone. You'd always felt that way--for as long as you could remember. "Yes," you whispered. "How did you know that?"
Dean smiled at you. "Because you are meant for more, (Y/N/N). You've spent the last 14 years doing more--you've saved countless lives. Hell, you've helped save the entire planet more than once."
You laughed loudly, thinking he must be joking. When you noticed his expression was completely serious, your laughter died instantly. "You--you can't be serious."
"I'm completely serious."
You scoffed. "No offense, Dean, but I've never saved anyone--let alone the entire planet. I think that's something I would remember."
He gave you a sad smile, pain lacing his gorgeous features. "There's so much you don't remember, (Y/N/N)."
The pain on his face matched the tone of his voice--and it sent a piercing pain into your heart. A pain you couldn't possibly begin to understand. "What else don't I remember?"
Dean shook his head. "I don't think you're ready for all of that, sweetheart."
This time, you didn't correct him. The pet name made your chest ache--and you had a feeling this was a common term of endearment from him. It made you want to understand the nature of your relationship. "Then just tell me one thing. What am I to you?"
Dean exhaled slowly, brilliant green eyes fluttering closed. He was desperately trying to remain objective, but it was nearly impossible. He felt like he owed you in some way and he knew he couldn't lie. His eyes met yours once again and you were stunned by the depths of emotion swimming in those green orbs.
"I feel like I owe you the truth, but I don't want you to freak out. So just...please just let me talk before you respond."
You nodded and waited for him to continue.
"Like I said before, we met a few years after you came back to the states. About 11 years ago, to be exact. I remember the first time I saw you like it was yesterday. You were so beautiful--almost painfully so. I felt drawn to you immediately, but you wanted nothing to do with me. I suppose it only made me want you more." He chuckled fondly at the memory. "You were pure fire back then. No one could control you, not that I'd ever dare to try. I think I fell in love almost immediately. You were everything I'd ever wanted, but I uh--I had a bit of a reputation in the community. A not-so-nice reputation when it came to the ladies...and unfortunately for me, you were well-aware of it."
Dean shook his head sadly. "I still don't know why, but you decided to stay with me and Sam--my brother. The three of us hunted together and sometime during the year that followed, I managed to win you over. You were crazy enough to fall in love with me--and we've been together ever since." He paused. "So to answer your question, (Y/N), you're the love of my life. My best friend, my partner, my confidante, my whole world. You're the woman I vowed to spend the rest of my life with and I'll be damned if I don't make good on that promise."
You sat in stunned silence, unsure how to feel about his revelation. One thing was for sure, you knew he was being honest. Every fiber of your being told you he loved you--every instinct you had screamed that he meant every word he said. It nearly broke your heart to have no memory of the feelings he was referring to...you couldn't reciprocate his words. As far as you were concerned, he was a stranger to you. You had no idea how to respond--nothing you could have said would have comforted him.
After several moments of silence, you finally looked up at Dean, meeting his teary gaze. "I believe you," you whispered.
Surprise lit up the handsome man's face. He hadn't been sure how you'd respond, but he hadn't thought you'd believe a word he said. "I meant every word, (Y/N/N)."
"I'm sorry I don't remember," you murmured sadly.
He offered you a small smile. "It's alright, sweetheart. I'm gonna find a way to get your memories back--to get our lives back."
"How?"
"If you're okay with it, we'll go see a friend of mine. She might be able to help."
You might be crazy for being willing to go with this strange man...but your gut told you there was no other choice. You hated the life you lived and if there was even a chance the life Dean was describing was real, you had to take it. "I'm in."
Dean smiled warmly. "That's my girl."
**********
Dean didn't explain who exactly you were going to see, but he did tell you it was quite a distance away. As such, you'd have to stop in a motel along the way.
Dean kept the conversations in the car away from the life--from hunting. He wasn't ready to explain all of that yet, especially if there was even the slightest chance you would run away screaming. He needed you to trust him and mentioning monsters wasn't likely to keep things calm.
It was late at night when he finally pulled off into a roadside motel. "It's not the Ritz, but it'll do for a night," Dean commented.
You offered him a smile and followed him into the dingy room. You tossed your bag onto the bed nearest the door and Dean immediately picked it up and moved it to the other bed. "No way in hell are you sleeping by the door, sweetheart."
You looked a little surprised, but simply shrugged your agreement.
Dean winced. "Sorry--I just worry about your safety, that's all."
You smiled. "It's alright. I get it."
He tossed his bag on the bed and sat down to take off his boots. "You can get the first shower."
"Alright, thanks." You grabbed your stuff and headed into the bathroom to take a shower.
Dean made a call to Sam as soon as the door to the bathroom was closed. He'd already called his brother and informed him that he'd found you and told him where you were headed. Sam was already on his way to you, speeding along the highway in your direction.
"Hey Sammy."
"Hey Dean. How is she?"
"She's okay. She's in the shower right now. Where you at?"
"Probably an hour out now. What motel did you stop at?"
Dean gave him the location and room number. "Call me when you get here and I'll let you in."
"Have you told her I'm coming yet?"
"I mentioned you earlier...but I'm trying to keep her as calm as possible. I don't want her to freak out."
Sam sighed. "Alright, but you might wanna mention it before I get there."
"Yeah, yeah. I will. See you soon."
20 minutes after the call ended, you came out of the bathroom, feeling reasonably clean. You'd spent more time in the shower than you'd needed to, if only to try and calm your racing mind. A lot had happened in the last five hours and you were mentally and emotionally exhausted.
When you came out of the bathroom, you collapsed on the musty-smelling bed and sighed.
"I know it's not a great place, but maybe you'll be able to get some sleep. I'm sure you're tired."
"Very."
Dean smiled sadly. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick, okay?"
You nodded and rolled over, trying to get comfortable on the rock-hard bed.
Dean eyed you warily before stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door.
You closed your eyes and fell asleep with shocking ease. Mental exhaustion was clearly a great cure for insomnia.
When Dean came out of the shower, he fully expected you to still be awake. He wanted to let you know Sam was on the way so you wouldn't be freaked out by his arrival. Unfortunately, you were clearly sound asleep and he didn't want to wake you. You looked too peaceful to disturb.
**********
You awoke sometime in the early hours of the morning, bladder throbbing uncomfortably. You got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, failing to notice the large figure lying on the couch near the bathroom door.
Your movement woke Sam up and he decided he needed to use the bathroom too. He stood up and stretched, waiting for you to come back out.
When you came out of the bathroom, you caught sight of a large male figure standing near the door. You quickly assessed him and realized it wasn't Dean--the man was too tall. Without thinking, you lunged towards him, fist connecting with the side of his jaw, sending him stumbling backwards.
He fell back into the small dining table, forcing it against the wall with a loud noise. The commotion was enough to wake up Dean, who shot out of bed ready to fight. It took him only a moment to realize what had happened.
You lunged towards Sam again, who held up his hands to block your attack. Dean jumped towards you and yelled your name, pulling you to a stop.
"It's okay! It's okay!" Dean insisted. "It's just Sam!"
You were breathing heavily, but you lowered your fists. "Who the hell is Sam?"
"My brother!"
Your mind cleared slightly as you remembered Dean mentioning Sam's name earlier in the evening. "Oh shit," you muttered.
Dean turned on the light and Sam rubbed his jaw woefully. "Nice swing, (Y/N/N).
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," you said softly. "I didn't mean to--I just reacted."
"Well it was a good shot either way," Sam said with a pained chuckle.
Dean laughed softly. "At least your instincts are still strong."
You winced a smile. "Let me go get some ice."
Dean stopped you with a gentle hand on your arm. "I'll go get it. Stay inside."
You could tell he was worried about your safety and it made you wonder what he wasn't telling you.
Sam sat down at the table and continued to rub his jaw. "It really is good to see you, (Y/N). Despite the punch."
"I'm so sorry, Sam. I didn't know you would be here."
"I figured that out," he said with a light chuckle. "Don't worry about it. It was a solid punch."
Dean came back in with a full ice bucket. He handed the bucket to Sam and chuckled. "Damn dude, she got you good."
You winced, feeling terrible for hurting him.
Dean noticed your discomfort and turned to you with a gentle smile. "It's alright, sweetheart. He's had a hell of a lot worse. He'll be fine."
Sam nodded his agreement. "He's not wrong. I'm alright."
You punched Dean in the arm in annoyance.
"Ow! What was that for?"
"You could have told me he was coming!"
"You were asleep! I didn't wanna wake you."
You sighed. "Alright fine, but quit keeping things from me, Dean."
He nodded, rubbing his arm. "Sorry, sweetheart."
"I'm going back to sleep. Let me know when it's time to go."
The brothers watched you crawl back into bed and Dean let out a soft sigh. "I think I'm too awake to sleep now."
"Same," Sam muttered.
The two sat at the table in silence, allowing you to get a couple more hours of sleep before it was time to head back out on the road.
**********
"So who exactly are we going to see?" you asked curiously.
Sam shot his brother a look from the backseat of the car. Dean glared at him in the rearview mirror and the younger man stayed silent.
"A friend of ours from when we were kids," Dean answered. "Her name is Missouri."
"Missouri...hmm. Do I know her?"
Dean nodded.
"How can she help me?"
"She's uh...well she's really..."
"Perceptive," Sam finished for him.
"Yeah, perceptive."
You gave Dean an odd look. "Okay then."
"Just...trust me, okay? She's the best there is. She can help."
Two words remained unsaid, living only deep in Dean's heart. I hope.
When the car pulled up in front of the house, Missouri immediately knew who it was. She met the three of you at the front door, a smile on her face.
"What do I owe the pleasure of a visit from all three Winchesters?"
Dean froze for a moment, which didn't go unnoticed by Missouri. Nor did you miss her use of the words "three Winchesters".
You shot Dean a silent reproachful look and Missouri tsked loudly. "Dean Winchester, what did you do?"
He held up his hands in mock surrender. "I didn't do anything, Missouri. I swear."
Missouri's gaze landed on your face, her expression softening instantly. "Oh honey..."
Her expression frightened you, as did her extremely perceptive gaze. It felt as though she was looking directly through you.
"Well come in you three. It's cold out here."
The three of you followed the older woman into her home. She gestured for you all to sit in the living room while she went to the kitchen to make some tea.
"Why did she call me a Winchester?" you asked Dean in hushed tones.
Sam gave his brother an 'I told you so' look and waited for his response.
Dean sighed. "I wasn't completely honest with you yesterday," he admitted. "(Y/N) (Y/L/N) was your name, until six years ago."
"What happened six years ago?" You were pretty sure you knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him say it.
"We got married," he answered softly. "You decided to change your name...and you've been (Y/N) Winchester ever since."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to freak you out. I'd already unloaded a lot of information on you. It's hard to look your wife in the eyes and realize she doesn't remember you--it's even harder to tell her what she means to you."
"But you told me how much you loved me...why couldn't you admit we're married?"
Dean shook his head. "I really don't know, sweetheart. I think I was scared you would run. It had been so hard to find you and I didn't want to risk losing you again."
Tears welled in your eyes and you placed a soft, comforting hand on his arm. "I'm not going anywhere, Dean."
He looked up at you, expression matching your own. He leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, though he desperately wanted to kiss your lips instead.
"Tea, everyone," Missouri stated as she entered the living room.
You immediately took the cup she offered you gratefully. "Thank you."
She nodded at you, giving you a warm smile. "Now I know you boys don't like tea, but there's no alcohol in this house."
"I'll take a cup, Missouri," Sam said.
She handed him a cup and gave Dean a stern look. You had a feeling the expression had nothing to do with his not liking tea.
"Now why don't you boys tell me what brings you all the way out here."
Dean sighed. "You mean you don't already know?"
"Dean!" Sam scolded.
"Oh I imagine it has something to do with (Y/N)'s memories, but I'd like to hear it from you."
Surprise lit up your face. "How did you--?"
"I see your husband left a few things out, didn't he? Do you want to share, Dean?"
Dean winced and shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, well--umm...Missouri is--well, she's psychic."
"I'm sorry, she's what?"
"Psychic," Dean repeated.
You turned to look at Sam and he simply nodded. Your gaze shifted back to Missouri who gave you another sad smile.
"It's true, honey. That's why I know about your missing memories. I can see the block in your mind...and the fake memories replacing your real ones."
"Fake memories? What do you mean fake memories?"
"How did your parents die?" Missouri asked seemingly from nowhere.
"A car accident," you answered in confusion.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dean and Sam exchange glances. Missouri sighed quietly and shook her head.
You tried to catch Dean's gaze, but he kept his eyes trained on the floor in front of him, suddenly fascinated with the pattern of the rug.
"Are you saying my parents didn't die in a car accident?"
"No, dear. They did not," Missouri answered.
"But I remember--" you fell silent as Missouri's words came back to you...'fake memories'. You shook your head. "I don't understand."
Missouri gave you a pitying look. "When you were 19 years old, your parents were murdered by something inhuman. A creature known as a ghoul. The ghoul appeared to you as your mother after it had killed her in an attempt to kill you, but you realized it wasn't your mother. You grabbed a wooden candlestick off the mantle and bashed the creature's head in, managing to kill it without even knowing what it was."
You were frozen in your seat, caught somewhere between disbelief and utter terror. You pushed the terror down, allowing the disbelief to prevail. You jumped out of your seat and yelled, "You people are crazy! Ghouls don't exist!"
Dean stood up and grabbed your arm to keep you from running. "Ghouls are very real, (Y/N). That experience changed your life forever. From that moment on, you knew the things that go bump in the night were real...that they murdered innocent people all over the world. It's why you came back here...to find answers and learn how to hunt them."
You shook your head vehemently. "No, no, that's not possible. They died in a car accident!"
Dean turned you to face him completely. "We met on a vampire hunt in Arkansas. Sam and I had identified the case and we ran into you early on in the hunt. You more than proved your abilities during that case and I asked you to come hunt with us. I didn't want you to keep going alone--it was too risky."
"What are you talking about?" you cried. "Vampires aren't real! None of this is real...it can't be real." Your knees turned to jelly and you would have fallen to the floor if Dean hadn't been holding onto you. He pulled you into him and you sobbed into his chest, finally allowing your tumultuous emotions out.
Dean held you tightly, tears of his own threatening to fall. He didn't know how to make you believe any of this--it sounded insane to him and he'd been raised in the life. He had a hard enough time convincing people who had literally seen a monster that they were real--this was so much worse. You couldn't remember all the monsters you'd killed in your life, so why would you ever believe a word any of them said?
"We might seem crazy, (Y/N), but I think if you allow yourself to believe it for even a moment, you may find it's not as crazy as it sounds," Missouri said gently.
You sniffled softly and turned to look into her eyes. You were still wrapped in Dean's arms--it made you feel incredibly safe, despite the situation. You focused on that feeling and tried to relax your breathing. Every single part of you was certain Dean would die to protect you...if that was true, then the love he had for you was real too. If his love was real, then so was your relationship--your marriage. If all of this was true, then maybe what he was telling you was true...maybe monsters really were real.
Missouri saw the moment you began to believe them--your eyes showed your emotions, but it was your mind that gave you away. She could sense your belief, just as she could sense the false memories swirling around in your mind.
"A witch," she said softly.
Dean's entire body went rigid. "What?"
"The missing memories and the replacements...it's the work of a witch. An extremely powerful one at that."
"Are you sure?" Dean whispered.
Missouri shot him a glare that told him exactly how certain she was.
"A witch?" you questioned softly, pulling away from Dean to look at his face.
"My least favorite type of monster."
"Witches are monsters?" you asked.
"Most of them," he responded.
"This kind of magic is dark," Missouri muttered. "Messing with someone's memories...it's very dangerous magic. The skill needed to not only block out the real memories but replace them indicates this is a very old witch. This type of magic isn't common these days."
"Demons?" Sam asked.
Missouri shook her head. "Older."
"Demons?" you squeaked out. "Demons are real too?"
Dean rubbed your arms comfortingly. "Yeah, sweetheart, but we don't need to worry about that right now, okay?"
You exhaled shakily. "How do I know what memories are real and which ones aren't?"
Missouri stood up and took your hands, forcing Dean to release you. She looked into your eyes, gaze extremely focused. After several moments she spoke. "Your childhood is intact up until your parents' deaths. Everything else up until three weeks ago is a false memory."
"Fourteen years?" you gasped. "Fourteen years of my life is a lie?"
Dean could see you start to spiral, instinctively reaching for you to try to ground you. "Baby, baby, hey--hey...focus on me, okay? Everything's gonna be okay."
Your eyes met his and your breathing began to slow once again. His warm gaze brought you back to earth, calming you in a way only he could. You felt calm--you felt safe. "Thank you," you whispered.
He pulled you into him for a tight a hug, placing his lips to the top of your head. "I've got you, sweetheart. I've got you."
Both Sam and Missouri felt as though they were intruding on a private moment. Missouri gestured for Sam to follow her out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.
"Are you alright?" Dean asked softly.
You looked up at him. "I think so. It's--it's a lot to take in."
"I know, sweetheart. I can't imagine what you're feeling right now, but everything we've told you is true."
"What happened three weeks ago, Dean?"
"What I told you before was true, but I left out a few details. We were on a hunt...a routine haunting. At least that's what we thought it was. When we got there, it was dark inside and it smelled like rotting corpses. It was strange, but not exactly out of the ordinary for a haunting. I went into a room ahead of you and I was knocked unconscious by something--I don't even remember what it was. When I woke up, you were gone."
"Could a--a witch do that?"
Dean nodded. "Easily. Especially if they're as powerful as Missouri thinks they are."
"So what do we do?"
"We find a way to restore your memories...then we hunt this witch down and find out why they targeted you."
"What if we can't?"
"Oh we'll find the witch. Don't worry."
You shook your head. "What if we can't get my memories back?"
Dean's expression betrayed his fear, if only for a second. "There has to be a way. There has to."
"There is," Missouri stated as she reentered the room with Sam in tow. "But it won't be pleasant."
"Can you do it?" Dean asked.
"I'm a psychic, Dean, not a witch."
Dean looked crestfallen.
"But I know someone who can help."
Dean looked back up. "Who?"
"Her name is Bethelia Logan. She's a very old, very powerful witch."
"Absolutely not!" Dean yelled instantly. "I'm not taking (Y/N) to a witch."
"Don't yell at me, child. Do you want her memories back or not?"
Dean started to argue again, but you placed a gentle hand to his chest, silencing him. "Do you trust her?"
Missouri nodded. "I would never send you to someone I didn't trust." She pointed at Dean. "You should know that."
Dean looked down in shame. He hated witches--hated them with everything in his soul. His hatred existed long before this moment...but now that he knew a witch had stolen your memories? He'd kill every witch on earth if he could.
"Where can we find this Bethelia Logan?" Sam asked.
"She lives in the mountains of Montana. Partially for the nature and partially for the privacy. She's not particularly friendly to strangers, but if you tell her I sent you, she'll help you."
"Are you sure she'll help us?" Dean asked.
"I'll send her a message. She'll help."
Dean looked down at you, wanting the decision to be yours and yours alone.
"You have her address?" you asked, a resigned smile on your face.
Missouri gave Dean the address and wished him luck. She said her goodbyes to the boys before sending them out the door. She stopped you before you could leave, wanting to say something in private.
"You are a strong woman, (Y/N). I have always thought that. You will need all your strength to get through this, if you choose to go through with it."
"What do you mean, 'if'?"
"The magic used to take your memories was very powerful black magic...and it will take very powerful black magic to reverse it. Such magic is dangerous for the user and for the person it is used on."
Realization dawned on your face. "Will I survive it?"
Missouri's expression softened, sadness darkening her gaze. "I don't know, honey, but it will likely be the most painful experience of your life. Which is why it must be your choice to go through with it. Yours, (Y/N)--yours alone."
You looked towards the Impala where Dean and Sam waited for you. You turned back to look at Missouri, a soft sigh leaving your lips. "Thank you for telling me."
"I love those boys like family, just as I love you, but Dean isn't like a normal man. He loves more deeply than anyone I have ever known--there isn't anything he wouldn't do for you. Don't tell him what I've told you, (Y/N). He won't let you make this choice on your own if you do...not because he doesn't trust you, but because he doesn't want to lose you."
Tears filled your eyes as you regarded the older woman. "I don't know how to explain it, but I know how much he loves me. I know what he would do for me. I need to remember why--desperately."
Missouri sighed quietly. "You've always loved that boy more than he believes he deserves, but in truth, he deserves all of your love. I've never met two people more perfect for one another--even if you never remember your lives together, I know you will love him that much again."
You nodded, allowing her words to wash over you. You knew in your heart she was right--you could see yourself falling in love with him, so it didn't surprise you that she believed it too. "Thank you, Missouri. For everything."
"You are so welcome, (Y/N) Winchester. Now go--and be safe."
You gave her a tight hug before walking away to join your husband and his brother on what would turn out to be the most harrowing journey of your life.
**********
It was a 16 hour drive from Missouri's home to Bethelia's home in Montana. You were quiet for most of the ride, reflecting on everything that had happened, as well as Missouri's final words to you. You half-listened to Sam and Dean's conversation, but your mind was elsewhere. You knew you had an important decision to make--one you apparently had to make entirely on your own.
Dean noticed your quiet demeanor and it worried him more than he cared to admit. He had to wonder what Missouri had said to you before you'd left, but he didn't want to press you for answers.
"Sweetheart, why don't you get some sleep?" Dean suggested softly. "I'm gonna drive through the night."
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" you asked softly.
"We do it all the time. Don't worry," he assured you.
Sam nodded his agreement. "If he gets tired, I'll take over."
"Over my cold dead corpse," Dean grumbled.
You laughed lightly and Sam rolled his eyes. "Alright, I'll try and get some sleep."
You turned your body slightly, leaning your head against the car window. You tried to get comfortable, but the cold metal and freezing window made that impossible.
Dean noticed your discomfort, watching you shift back and forth for several minutes. "Hey baby," he said softly, getting your attention. You turned to look in his direction.
"Come here, use my shoulder." You looked up at him and he offered you a gentle smile. "I can tell you're uncomfortable."
You angled your body to lean across the seat, resting your head on his shoulder. You sighed softly, finally finding a comfortable position. You were asleep within minutes. Dean glanced down at you and smiled before placing a soft kiss to the top of your head.
Sam watched the interaction from the backseat, a mixture of sadness and joy weighing on him. He was glad Dean had found you, but he was terrified of what would happen when they made it to Montana. Sam wasn't stupid...and he knew a lot more about magic than his brother did. He knew it was going to be extremely dangerous to try and fix your memories, and he worried it wouldn't end well. He didn't want to mention his concerns to Dean as he didn't want to scare him. He knew exactly what his brother was like when someone he loved was in danger.
You awoke several hours later to rays of morning sun shining through the windshield. Your head was still resting against Dean's shoulder and he felt you stir slowly.
"Good morning beautiful," Dean whispered softly.
You looked up at him with a smile. "Mornin'." You pulled yourself up into a sitting position and stretched.
You felt Dean's gaze on you, so you turned to look at him. "What?"
"Nothin'."
You raised your eyebrows. "Then why're you looking at me like that?"
He smiled. "You're just so beautiful," he said softly. "I can't help but stare."
You blushed and looked away from him. "Not this early in the morning," you mumbled.
He chuckled lightly. "Nice try, sweetheart. You're beautiful 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. 366 during leap year." He shot you a wink, which only caused your blush to deepen.
"You're too much," you giggled softly.
He reached over and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. "You're just right."
"What did I do to deserve you?" you asked softly.
Surprise lit up his handsome face. "Deserve me? Other way around, baby."
You shook your head. "I don't think so."
He glanced over at you again. "There's a lot you don't remember, (Y/N/N). Trust me when I say I'm the one who doesn't deserve you."
"That's not what Missouri thinks."
"Huh?"
"She told me you think you don't deserve me, but she said you deserve all the love I have to give. She thinks very highly of you, you know."
The look of surprise covered his face again. "I think highly of her too."
You smiled, reaching across to grab his hand. He looked over at you with a smile. "I can see why I fell in love with you."
His heart skipped a beat, hearing your words had a profound effect on him. "I'm still not sure how I won you over, but I'll always be grateful for your love."
You leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. "I can't wait to remember everything," you whispered.
He shot you a warm smile, but it quickly faded to sadness.
"Dean?" you murmured.
"I know what we're going to do is extremely dangerous. I'm no fool, (Y/N/N)...I know Missouri warned you. I don't want you to do anything out of some sort of obligation to me, okay? I would rather die than lose you."
You touched his cheek gently. "I didn't want to worry you."
"I know. I'm willing to bet she told you not to tell me anyway."
Your mirthless chuckle was confirmation enough. "For the record, any decision I make is because it's what I want to do...and I need you to respect my decision."
Tears welled in his eyes, but he nodded. "I'll try."
You shook your head. "It's not a request, Dean."
He sighed. "I know you can't remember...but I'm not good at these types of situations. I tend to be a little reckless when someone I love is at risk."
"Missouri may have mentioned that too."
Dean chuckled. "Of course she did."
Sam began to stir in the backseat, a loud yawn alerting you both to his consciousness. "We there yet?" he mumbled.
Dean laughed. "We've still got another 4 hours or so."
"You want me to drive?"
"No one but my baby gets to drive Baby."
Sam laughed and rolled his eyes.
"Did you just call the car 'Baby'?" you asked.
"The three things I love most in this world are, you, Sammy, and this car."
You laughed heartily, rekindling Sam's laughter and sparking Dean's laughter. You might not be able to remember it, but you knew deep in your soul that these two people were your family--and somehow you loved them even without the memories to back it up.
**********
It was mid-afternoon when the three of you finally pulled up in front of a small house in middle-of-nowhere Montana.
"Do you think Missouri called her?" Dean asked.
"We better hope so," you murmured, pointing at the various signs in the yard warning people not to trespass.
"Yikes," Sam muttered.
Dean sighed and got out of the car, you and Sam following close behind. Before Dean could raise his hand to knock on the front door, it opened to reveal a surprisingly young-looking woman.
"Can you read?" the woman snapped.
"Missouri Moseley sent us," Sam said quickly.
The woman's expression softened immediately. "Well why didn't you say so? Come in, come in!"
You followed her inside and she gestured for you to have a seat in her small living room. The three of you sat down beside each other on the small couch.
"I'm Bethelia," the woman said as she sat in a chair across from you. "You must be the Winchesters."
The three of you nodded.
Bethelia looked at you closely. "I see you've been touched by black magic."
You nodded slowly. "So I've been told."
"Can you help her?" Dean asked.
Bethelia hummed quietly. "I can, but I am not certain you'll want me to."
"Missouri warned me it would dangerous."
She nodded. "This type of magic is very strong. I cannot guarantee you will survive."
Dean froze beside you and you blindly reached out to grab his hand. You squeezed it reassuringly. "What do I have to do?"
"(Y/N/N)," Dean pleaded.
Bethelia watched you carefully. "You have to be willing to risk everything to retrieve your memories. As you are now, you can make new memories with the ones you love, even if you cannot remember the past. But if you choose to work with me, your life may be forfeit."
You'd spent every waking hour since leaving Missouri's thinking about what you would do. Now, faced with the question, you found you knew your answer without a shadow of a doubt. "I'm willing to risk it."
"(Y/N/N)," Dean pleaded a second time. "You said it yourself--we can make new memories...we can fall in love all over again."
You turned to look into your husband's bright green eyes, both of which swirled with emotions the depths of which you couldn't even begin to understand. "Would you mind giving us a moment?"
Bethelia rose, immediately understanding what you needed. Sam took a second longer, but quickly followed Bethelia from the room, leaving you and Dean alone.
Dean immediately rose from his seat and began to pace. "You can't do this, (Y/N). It's not worth the risk."
"It's my decision, Dean. I don't need your permission, but I would like your support."
"I can't give you that--I can't...I can't lose you."
You stood up and grabbed his hands, stopping him in front of you. "I know it's hard, but it's worth it to me--it's worth the risk. I need to remember, Dean. It's my life and if the last few days are anything to go by, then I'd give anything to remember the last eleven years with you. Anything."
He looked down at you, finally allowing the tears to slide down his face. Your heart broke as you took in his pained expression, fear evident in his gaze. "I want to remember everything about you--every moment, every heartbreak, every painful memory, every joyful second, every loving embrace. I want to remember what it's like to love you--and be loved by you."
You reached up and wiped the tears from his cheeks, and you found yourself wishing you could take away his pain. You didn't want to die, but you didn't want to live a lie--you needed the truth and the only way to get that was to restore your memories.
"I need to remember."
Dean closed his eyes and leaned into your palm. He would have traded places with you in a heartbeat, sold his soul to save you, set fire to the world to keep you out of harm's way...but he couldn't do any of those things. He was powerless to protect you and it was killing him.
"I know you're strong," he whispered. "but baby, I'm terrified."
"I know," you murmured. "I know."
You rose up on your tiptoes, gently pulling his face down to yours. You pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss--a kiss you tried to infuse with every complicated emotion you'd felt in the last several days. His body instinctively melted into yours like you were made for each other--like you'd done it a thousand times before.
When you separated, he leaned his forehead against yours, breath mingling with yours. "I need you to trust me," you whispered.
Dean closed his eyes. "I trust you."
You exhaled shakily as you pulled away from him. It was killing him, but he couldn't make this decision for you--all he could do was give you the one thing you asked for.
"I support whatever decision you make...and I love you," he said softly. "I'll always love you."
You hadn't really expected him to support you, so hearing him say those words gave you an added boost of strength you didn't know you needed. You touched his cheek one last time before walking away in search of Bethelia.
"You are ready," the witch said from the doorway, her words a confirmation, not a query.
You nodded. "Let's do this."
Sam went to his brother's side, giving him a reassuring clap on the back. There wasn't really anything for him to say, but his presence was enough to calm Dean.
Bethelia turned to address the two men. "No matter what happens, you must not interrupt the spell. If you do, you risk her mind as well as her life. Do you understand?"
They both nodded.
"It will be painful," she said to you.
"I know," you whispered.
She simply nodded and gestured for you to follow. She guided you to a dimly lit room filled with hundreds of candles. The room was obviously home to a large amount of spell work, but much of the space had been cleared to make room for a large mat in the center of the floor.
"Lie down, (Y/N)."
You did as she asked, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm your racing heart.
"You may wait in the hall," Bethelia addressed Sam and Dean. "Do not cross the threshold. Do not interrupt the spell. Do nothing."
You turned to make eye contact with Dean. "I'll be alright."
He nodded, desperate to believe you. "I love you," he whispered.
"I know," you whispered back.
"Let's begin," Bethelia said, silencing any further conversation.
You closed your eyes and sent out a silent prayer to any deity who might be listening--a prayer for strength, for survival. It was the last coherent thought you had before your mind was overwhelmed with a blinding pain you couldn't describe.
Sam and Dean watched from outside the room as you writhed in pain, cries of agony ripped from your throat as Bethelia worked her magic.
"I can't watch this," Dean gasped out, turning on his heels and practically running for the front door.
Even outside, he could hear your screams--each one like a knife to his heart. He didn't know how long he stood there, he had long since lost count of your screams, the seconds between them all but disappearing.
Sam had remained inside, standing watch over you as best he could. Much like Dean, his chest ached with each of your screams--he hated seeing you in so much pain.
After what felt like an eternity, silence fell on the small home--a silence more deafening than any scream. Dean waited for a few moments before running back into the house, terrified of what he would find.
When your limp body came into view, he tried to enter the room--tried to reach you, but Sam grabbed him and held him back. "Dean, you can't! She's not done!"
Dean struggled against his brother's hold, every instinct dying to go to you. He watched in terror as you remained still as death, not a single sound escaping your sweet lips.
"(Y/N/N)..." he whimpered.
Bethelia's chanting had ceased, her small form kneeling beside your body as if waiting for something.
Unbeknownst to anyone in the home, a war was raging inside your mind--a battle between who you were and who you believed yourself to be. Memories were fighting for their rightful place in your mind--false and real, a distinction your fragile psyche couldn't make.
The only thing you knew for sure was your name: (Y/N) Winchester. You knew it with the same conviction that you knew gravity was real. Your certainty gave way to another: Dean Winchester was the love of your life. Flashes of moments from the past few days flew through your mind, but the ones you focused on where the memories you didn't recall.
You saw the joyful moments filled with laughter and jokes, the painful moments filled with tears and loss, the passionate moments with nothing between your bodies but sweat and desire, and the loving moments that grounded you--kept you from giving up even when life was unbearable.
You felt his love for you wash over you in waves, drowning you in an ocean of passion you didn't wish to escape from. But then you felt your love for him, the depths of which you couldn't even begin to comprehend. Whatever you'd imagined you'd felt for him paled in comparison to reality--he was tied to your soul so completely you wondered how it was possible to have lived without his memory for more than a moment.
As these memories and emotions solidified within you, the false memories began to fade away, replaced by the real ones that had been locked away in the darkest recesses of your mind. Millions of memories flooded your mind, filling the gaps in your life, making you whole once more.
Dean, Sam, and Bethelia watched in silence, waiting for something to happen. Dean wasn't even certain you were breathing, but he was terrified to ask...he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.
Bethelia began to look more and more crestfallen as time went on, the minutes ticking by in painful silence. Sam's gaze was focused on her, praying her expression would turn hopeful once again.
Dean's gaze, on the other hand, was focused entirely on you--on your face. He was looking for any sign of movement, of life...anything to calm his aching heart.
An hour had passed since the spell had begun...twenty minutes of silence had stretched on after your screams had ended. They were the longest twenty minutes of Dean's life.
He had begun to lose hope--fearing the worst, but afraid to voice it. Suddenly, you gasped for air, bolting upright as you sucked in gulps of oxygen. Dean ran to you, breaking free of his brother's relaxed grip--not giving a damn if he was allowed to enter the room or not.
He dropped to his knees beside you, reaching out to grab your face. "(Y/N)? Sweetheart, can you hear me?"
Your eyes met his and his breath caught in his chest. Those sweet (y/e/c) eyes he loved so much were full of recognition--full of love. "Dean," you whispered hoarsely.
He wrapped you in a hug so tightly you thought he might squeeze every ounce of air from your lungs, but you couldn't be bothered to care. You were squeezing him back just as tightly, feeling at home in his arms.
He leaned back to look at your face again, brushing your hair back to see you more clearly. He hadn't realized how different you'd looked when your memories were gone--not until this moment. As he looked at you, he noticed all the little things he hadn't taken the time to pay attention to before. Your skin seemed to glow with love and warmth, your eyes sparkled more brilliantly than they had in the past few days, and your smile was bright enough to pierce through any darkness.
"Baby?" he asked tentatively, needing to hear the confirmation from your lips.
"I remember," you whispered softly, leaning forward to brush your lips against his.
He wrapped his arms around you again, tugging you close, and kissing you with as much passion as he could muster. The moment was so pure, so full of love, that both Sam and Bethelia were moved by it. The love the two of you shared was beyond what an average person would ever experience--incomprehensible to most.
When you finally separated, Dean leaned his forehead against yours. "You scared me for a minute," he admitted.
"I told you I'd be okay," you murmured. "Have a little faith, my love."
He smiled. "God I missed you."
"I missed you too."
Dean finally pulled away from you and rose to his feet. He took your hand in his and helped you up, your body still weak from the intensity of the spell.
You smiled warmly at the two people standing a few feet away. "Hey Sammy. Miss me?"
Sam grinned and stepped forward to wrap you in a hug. "Of course I did."
When he stepped back, you addressed Bethelia. "I can't thank you enough."
Bethelia smiled and gestured between you and Dean. "This right here? This is thanks enough. It has been a long time since I've witnessed a love this pure. I feel honored to have been able to witness it again."
You looked up at Dean as he smiled down at you. He kissed your forehead and you leaned into him. "I feel honored to be able to experience it--especially knowing what it's like to live without it."
"I know the feeling," he murmured.
"Not to bring the mood down, but I remember what happened in Colorado," you said softly.
Sam and Dean looked at you, both waiting to hear what you recalled.
"I saw you on the floor--unconscious--and I let my guard down. I was terrified you were dead...that's when she got me."
"The witch," Dean stated quietly.
You nodded. "She knew my name--knew yours too. All she told me was she wanted you to pay. She didn't explain what she meant."
"Why the hell did she target you if she wanted me to pay?"
"She had to have known what losing me would do to you--that it would hurt you more deeply than anything she could ever have done to you directly."
Dean felt a mixture of sorrow and anger. No one was going to get away with hurting you, not as long as he drew breath.
"All I remember after that was the pain...so much pain. Then I woke up in a house in a city I've never lived in before with a whole life I didn't remember. But as far as I was concerned, that was my life. It felt so real--up until the day you waltzed in."
Dean reached out and touched your face. "Anyone who dares hurt you is destined for a short life."
You'd known he'd want to kill the witch, and to be honest, you didn't blame him. Hunting monsters was your life--and this witch certainly counted as one. "We'll find her Dean."
"Damn right we will. I'll put a bullet right through her skull. See how she likes having her mind messed with."
You placed a gentle hand to your husband's arm, trying to calm him. "For now, let's just focus on the good things. I have my memories back and I'm with you. That's what matters."
Dean nodded and offered you a weak smile. "You're right, baby. You're right."
You turned to Bethelia with a smile, thanking her once again, as did Sam and Dean. You were surprised when Dean gave the witch a hug--he wasn't an affectionate man by nature, especially with strangers, but she'd saved your life in his estimation...so she got a pass.
"You're the only witch I've ever liked," Dean commented as the three of you prepared to leave.
Bethelia laughed. "There are others like me out there, I can assure you. We're not all monsters, hunter."
Dean nodded. "Perhaps not."
You grabbed his hand and tugged it gently as you started toward the Impala. "Come on, handsome. It's time to go."
The three of you piled into the car, waving goodbye to Bethelia as you pulled away.
"I'm so ready to go home," you mumbled with a yawn.
"Me too, baby."
"Me three," Sam added.
"Do you want to stop at a motel to rest?" you asked softly.
Dean's gaze rested on your face, drinking it in like he was scared he'd forget it. "Not a chance, sweetheart. I wanna get you home as quickly as possible."
The hungry look in his eyes belied his hidden meaning and you silently hoped Sam didn't notice. "Try not to drive too fast," you teased.
"I would never," he said in mock offense. He pressed firmly on the accelerator and the Impala shot down the road at an assuredly illegal speed.
You laughed and shook your head, knowing full-well Dean would get you home in one piece, even if it was a little faster than it should be.
**********
Fourteen hours later, you were back home in your beloved bunker in Lawrence, Kansas. What should have taken nearly sixteen hours, was shortened by Dean's intense desire to get home.
"Oh I missed this place," you said with a smile as you entered.
"You didn't even remember it existed until a few hours ago," Dean chided.
"I missed it without even knowing what I was missing...kinda like I missed you," you teased back.
He smiled, coming up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not nearly as much as I missed you."
You leaned back into him. "That could be because you actually remembered me."
"There's not a chance in hell I could forget you." He pressed gentle kisses to your neck down to your shoulder.
"As happy as I am to have you back," Sam interrupted. "Could you two get a room?" His voice was light and teasing, which made you laugh.
"Oh come on, Sammy--it's nothing you haven't seen before," Dean said with a grin. "Just a man loving his gorgeous wife."
Sam rolled his eyes affectionately. "I'll go get my noise canceling headphones. You two have fun getting reacquainted."
You watched Sam walk off towards his bedroom, a small smile playing on your face.
"So you think we should get...reacquainted?" Dean murmured against the shell of your ear.
"Aren't you exhausted from all the driving?"
"I'm never too tired for you, baby."
You turned around to face him, leaning into his strong body. "I think you should take me to bed then, Mr. Winchester."
"It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Winchester." Dean slipped his arms under your round bottom, lifting you up so you could wrap your legs around his waist. He held you closely as he carried you towards your shared bedroom.
As he made his way to your room, you spent every second pressing kisses to his face sweetly, tangling your fingers in his short hair.
"You better stop that or I might take you right here on the table," he growled lowly.
"It's not like we haven't before," you giggled.
Dean groaned. "I don't wanna scar Sam for life--otherwise, I'd have you on every surface in this damn bunker."
"Maybe later then," you murmured as you kissed his neck affectionately.
Dean moved more quickly, the need to get you into his bed becoming overwhelming. As soon as he made it into the bedroom, he kicked the door closed, pressing you against it as he attached his lips to yours hungrily.
You gasped slightly before returning his passionate kiss. You tugged on his jacket, silently begging him to remove it. He pulled away just long enough to rip his jacket and flannel off before kissing you again.
His strong hands slid up under your shirt, moving upwards to tug it off over your head. His lithe fingers unsnapped your bra with practiced ease and pulled it forward to reveal the swell of your breasts.
"I've missed these," he murmured, lips immediately finding their home between the valley of your breasts. He took his time nipping and sucking at each one, playing with your nipples just the way you liked.
Your fingers dug into his scalp as you held him close to you, reveling in the feeling of his lips on your body. Your core pulsed with aching need, but you ignored it as best you could. You didn't want to rush him...not after all this time apart.
Dean loved how soft you felt against his toned form--he couldn't describe how much he'd missed touching you so intimately. This wasn't the first time the two of you had been torn apart from each other, but it had been the toughest time for him.
He felt your soft hands clutching at his shirt, desperate to remove it. Dean smirked against your skin before turning around and tossing you onto the bed. He tugged his shirt off over his head and threw it across the room, giving you a clear view of his impressive torso.
He started to climb onto the bed, but you stopped him. "Pants too, please."
He chuckled. "Impatient, are we?"
You shook your head. "I just want to see your perfect body on display--just for me."
He raised his eyebrows, but did as you asked, removing his pants slowly, eyes locked on yours.
You could see his hard member straining against his boxers, practically begging to be touched. You crawled across the bed, coming closer to him, eyes trained on your target.
"Whatcha doin' baby?"
Your eyes flicked up to meet his, tongue darting out to dampen your lips. "Wanna taste you."
Dean exhaled sharply, but there was no way he was going to say no to your request. He watched as you rolled over onto your back, head hanging off the edge of the bed. His breath caught in his chest as he realized your intentions. "You sure?" he whispered.
You grinned cheekily. "Come on pretty boy--use me."
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, quickly ridding himself of his last article of clothing. He gripped his large cock tightly in his right hand and stepped forward. He tapped against your mouth gently. "Open wide, sweetheart."
You happily obliged, mouth opening as wide as you could to accommodate his size. He slid slowly into your warm, wet mouth, groaning softly at the feeling.
You made a little noise of pleasure, wrapping your hands around his muscular thighs to get more comfortable and pull him even closer to you.
Dean's motions started out slow, but he quickly lost himself in the feeling of you, listening to the delicious sounds you were making. Within moments, he'd begun fucking your face properly, obscene sounds escaping his lips.
"Fuck--that's it baby. S-so good for me."
You moaned happily, fingers digging into his skin as you continued to take him deep in your throat. He leaned forward to grab at your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples as he thrust, which only increased your enjoyment.
Dean felt his orgasm quickly approaching, but he wasn't ready to cum just yet. He eased his cock out of your mouth and took a step back, chuckling softly at your whine.
"Don't worry, baby--I'm nowhere near done." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your messy lips before rising back up to his full height. "Get comfortable, sweetheart--it's my turn."
You quickly rotated your body so your head rested comfortably on the pillows at the head of the bed. Dean wasted no time joining you on the bed, quickly unsnapping your jeans before pulling them off along with your panties.
He wedged himself between your legs, lowering himself to lie flat on the bed. He inhaled deeply, face mere inches from your aching pussy.
"You smell delicious, baby--can't wait to taste you."
Dean's tongue slipped out of his mouth, running a thick stripe up your pussy before sliding between your lips to begin his assault.
Your hips shot off the bed, causing Dean to lay his arm across your abdomen to hold you in place. He didn't want you to be able to squirm away while he gave you as much pleasure as he could.
Your fingers entwined in his hair as he ate you out like it was the last thing he'd ever do. It felt so incredibly good and your moans of pleasure spurred him on.
"D--feels s-so good."
He moaned into your core, the vibrations making you cry out in pleasure. He sped up his ministrations, years of practice with you making him an expert on your body.
"So close," you whimpered.
Dean slipped two fingers inside of you, curling them to press against your g-spot rapidly. Within moments, your orgasm crashed into you with violent intensity, hips jacking off the bed despite Dean's attempts to hold you in place. He kept up with your movements, not stopping until you pulled him up by his hair.
He licked his lips with a smirk, enjoying the lingering taste of you. His normally bright green eyes were dark with arousal as he looked at your blissed out face. He hovered over you, eyes scanning your face as if to memorize every inch of it, before leaning down to kiss you deeply.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to you. You loved the feeling of his strong body against yours, enjoying the warmth emanating from his heated skin.
"I need you, (Y/N/N)," he whispered against your lips. "Please."
"Wanna feel you inside me, Dean--make me forget my own name."
He growled lowly. "I can do that for you, baby. Only thing you'll be able to say is my name."
You moaned softly, lifting your hips to press against his, earning a sharp inhale from his lips. He slipped his cock in between your folds, entering you completely with one harsh thrust.
You cried out at the feeling of fullness, slight pain mixing with the pleasure. No matter how many times you'd made love to this man, he never failed to make you feel incredible. Every time was like the first time in the first few moments, before quickly morphing into an unforgettable experience with someone who knew your body better than you did.
"Move baby--please," you begged.
He always waited for a few moments, never wanting to cause you any undue pain, but as soon as those words left your mouth, he began to thrust into you in earnest.
"Shit, sweetheart--missed this sweet little pussy. Squeezing me so good, feels like heaven."
"Harder, Dean--please."
Dean shifted his body to give you what you needed, thrusts now deeper and faster than before. His fingers dug into your hips so tightly that bruises were sure to appear.
Your moans reverberated throughout the room, spurring Dean on. His own noises were absolutely sinful--and you loved hearing them. Your nails dug into his muscular back, trying desperately to ground yourself in the sea of pleasure.
You felt your orgasm approaching and you voiced as much to Dean, who was already well-aware.
"Want you to cum for me, baby. I wanna feel you make a mess on my cock."
You whimpered, clinging to him tightly as he continued his measured thrusts. "Dean..."
"I've got you, gorgeous. Let go for me."
You cried out in pleasure as your second orgasm washed over you, body shaking beneath his, waves of pleasure overwhelming your senses.
Dean worked you through your high, waiting until your body stopped shaking before gently rolling you onto your stomach. You tried to lift your hips to accommodate him, but he gently pressed you back down into the mattress.
"I've got this baby girl, just get comfortable."
He slid into you, laying his body on top of you, covering you like a heated blanket. The angle of his thrusts instantly sent you spiraling--body trembling beneath him.
"Fuck, sweetheart--how's this pussy still so fuckin' tight?" he growled in your ear.
You were clenching him tightly, intense pleasure slamming into your core with each thrust he made. You could hardly breathe--the pleasure already so blinding.
"You're close again, aren't you? I can feel it, baby," Dean murmured against your neck.
You couldn't do anything other than moan and whine as he fucked you deeper into the mattress. He was right--you were on the brink of another blinding orgasm.
"I wanna fill this sweet pussy up, baby--but I can't do that until you cum for me."
You whimpered softly, Dean's thrusts continuing.
"Tell me what you need, sweetheart."
"Don't stop--" you gasped.
Dean continued his motions, not changing a single thing. He knew you were close--all you needed was a little push. His lips were so close to your shoulder, brushing softly against your skin. On a particularly hard thrust, Dean bit into your shoulder blade, drawing a scream of pleasure from your throat as you came around him.
He slowed his motions, not quite ready to cum, but not wanting to stop. He kissed the bite mark gently, making sure you felt his love for you in each kiss.
When you'd come down from your high, Dean eased you onto your back, cock still buried deep inside you. He began slow, gentle thrusts, waiting for you to refocus on him.
After several moments, your eyes finally met his and he smiled warmly. "There you are."
"Dean..." you whispered.
"I'm right here, baby."
"Want you to fill me up," you begged softly.
Dean groaned. "You keep squeezing me and looking at me like that and I'm a goner."
You gave him a weak smile and clenched your pussy as tightly as you could. He gasped softly, hips stuttering slightly.
"Cum for me, Dean--please."
"Gonna f-fill you up, baby...s-so close."
You wrapped your weak legs around him, holding him against you. You placed a gentle palm against his cheek, forcing him to continue looking at your loving expression.
His thrusts had become sloppy and his breathing labored. A few more thrusts and he exploded inside of you, cries of pleasure leaving his lips as he filled you up. His spend leaked out of you as his thrusts began to slow to a halt, lips pressing into your sweaty skin in gentle kisses.
"I love you," he whispered repeatedly. "So, so much."
Finally, Dean collapsed on top of you, softening member still inside of you. The two of you laid like that for several minutes, entangled together comfortably. You held him tightly, almost afraid to let go.
Dean slowly began to lift himself off of you, leaving you cold and empty. You whimpered softly, reaching for him as he got off the bed.
He turned to you and smiled. "I'm coming right back, baby. I promise."
He moved slowly towards the sink in the corner of the room before returning with a warm, wet washcloth to clean your mixed spends from between your legs. Each touch made you shiver, but his gentle voice grounded you.
"I've got you, baby. Almost done."
Once he'd finished, he tossed the washcloth across the room before crawling back into bed with you. He laid down beside you and tugged you into him. You angled your body to lay your head on his chest.
The two of you laid in silence for so long you began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. He had to be tired after that drive and the exertion of your love making, so you didn't blame him.
Just as you began to drift off to sleep yourself, you heard Dean's soft voice. “Babe? Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” you said softly.
“Do you want that normal, apple pie kinda life?”
You laughed quietly, shaking your head against his chest. “Absolutely not."
“Really? Not even a little?”
You looked up at him, expression softening. “Not even a little. I happen to love our life. I love living in a weird underground bunker. I love driving all over god’s green earth in our ancient Impala. I love staying in seedy motels and eating shitty diner food. I love saving people and hunting monsters. Do you know why?”
He shook his head.
“Because I get to do it all with you.”
He smiled at you, gaze exceptionally tender.
“I couldn’t ask for anything better than this beautiful, messy life of ours.”
He leaned in to kiss you sweetly. “I love you so damn much, baby.”
“I love you too, Dean Winchester. Always.”
You settled back against his warm chest, listening to the solid beating of his heart. You knew tomorrow would bring another battle, another problem to solve, but for right now, you were exactly where you needed to be--in the arms of the man you loved with all your soul, feeling safe and loved...finally home.
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x wife!reader#dean winchester x reader smut#dean winchester smut#supernatural smut
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little help goes a long way ⎯⎯ DEAN WINCHESTER.
⎯⎯ where you accidentally give dean a hard on during a hunt.
YAP SESH! he's been running on my mind all day and i needed to let my thoughts run wild. so have fun readin' — you'll def thank me later!
WARNING(S) sexual tension | F!READER | strong language | sex innuendos | implied smut. ୨ৎ EIGHTEEN PLUS! ADULT CONTENT | minors do NOT interact.
୨ৎ JENSEN'S LIBRARY.
★ next part. -> satiated desire
the hunt had taken an unexpected turn, leaving you and dean pressed up against each other, your back flush against his chest. you shifted slightly, trying to get a better vantage point, when you felt dean's grip tighten on your hips, holding you in place.
"dean—" you began to ask, but the words died on your lips as you felt something hard pressing against you from behind. your eyes widened in realization, heat creeping up your face.
"shit, sweetheart, i'm so sorry," dean murmured, his voice strained. "i didn't mean for that to happen."
you whisper to dean in his ear, "we'll deal with this after the hunt, okay?"
he nodded mutely, your heart racing, already imagining ways to help him with his... situation. a small smile plays on your lips as he replied, "you're the best," he murmurs, hearing the mix of relief and anticipation in his voice.
"of course, dean. i've got you."
dean let out a shaky breath, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly.
with that, the two of you turned your focus back to the hunt, both eagerly awaiting the chance to properly address the growing tension between you.
# ✸ ׂ ♡ ݂ 𝐊 writes.#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester imagines#dean x you#dean winchester smut#dean winchester angst#dean x reader#dean x female!reader#dean x y/n#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x fem reader#dean smut#dean angst#dean fluff#supernatural#supernatural x reader#supernatural x you#supernatural angst#supernatural smut#supernatural fluff
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────⠀ ⠀ oh to sit on dean winchester's face⠀ᥫ᭡
warnings 𓂅 ✶ face sitting, oral (f!recieving), softdom!dean, afab!reader, uhh implied oral(m!recieving) ending.
when dean saw how petulant you were getting, all pissy with him, he knew exactly what was going on. maybe you were feeling pent up, clearly, since every little thing was setting you off and he hated to see you so wound up. you'd been getting on his ass the entire hunt, even being snappy with witnesses—that wasn't like you at all. he'd tried to figure out what was up with you, a million times. it wasn't getting him fucking anywhere.
"you gonna tell me what's up now?" you'd simply frown and look away, and he knows he won't get it out of you in the usual ways of being gentle and comforting. "fine, be like that then," he'd grumble in return, looking back at the steering wheel as he drove around the backwater town you two had found yourself in.
it's getting on his nerves as much as something's definitely getting on yours. dean'll figure it out eventually. he's softer with you in moments like this, not teasing you as much as he usually does so he doesn't piss you off as much. it's like setting off a live wire and he sure as hell ain't in the business to be doing all that. there's a hunt at hand, but he's realising you need sorting out before anything in that regard can get done.
when the two of you get back to a motel you'd grabbed, the hunt still proving fruitless. sam was fuck knows where, having said he wanted to work on some leads with cas, leaving you and dean together. he didn't mind, neither did you, since you two love eachother so damn much, but when you're so temperamental like this? always biting at him? a little hard to enjoy the alone time when he's walking on damn eggshells around you.
but he knew what you needed. needed your pussy ate, that's what. neeeded to get off, somehow, huh? you always got so sharp with him when you were pent up, all horny and frustrated. it was kind of becoming a game of his, see how long he could leave you pent up only to bring you to the edge over and over again till you calmed down.
"gotta come up with other ways to let out your frustration, baby, 'cause bein' horny ain't no excuse to start snappin' at me," he mutters, locking the motel door behind the two of you. you grumble at that, "not horny, just.." knowing full well you're lying through your teeth. how can you not be? like, he looks too damn good when he's impersonating law enforcement, that tight white shirt which he on occasion rolls up to his elbows—fuck, it's like he wants you to be pent up.
"starin' at me like you're gonna eat me whole, sweetheart. can't lie to me," you really can't, dean practically knows you better than you know yourself. his green eyes meet yours and he scoffs.
"that's not fair," you're shrugging off your blazer, hooking it over the coat hook by the door of the motel room. you do notice how dean rakes his eyes over you, seemingly happy with what he's seeing. you know he is, he's told you and shown you countless times in motels rooms quite similar to this one, actually.
dean tugs his tie from around his neck, draping it over the edge of the motel bed before he wanders over to the bed. he kicks off his shoes, leaving them on the floor before laying himself down on his back. he looked up at you with an expectant upwards cock of his brows. "right, you. c'mere," he gestures to his face, hands open for you to come sit yourself down on him and go to town. he barely suppresses a laugh at your expression, but he means it.
"you're not—" you're sceptical. you'd been pissing him off all day with your attitude and instead of being angry at you he's offering his face for you to sit on? you stand there for a moment, gnawing your bottom lip. "really?" your voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and dean softens a little bit at that.
"yeah, really," he slides his hands over the first few buttons of his shirt, in case he gets too warm with you sat over top him, before he gestured you over again. "don't make me drag you over here, y'know i'll do it." he most definitely will. you groan at that, knowing what lies ahead of you. "and you know you wanna."
you really do, that's the issue. he's right. you stare at him, and sigh under your breath. as much as you wanted to resist, be petty, you physically couldn't. "yeah, okay, hold on," you mutter, corners of your lips tugging upwards at the corners. dean practically cheers, he literally lives to please you, to make you feel good.
"just a second," you hum, sliding your hands into the sides of your slacks and easing them down. dean's eyes immediately drop down to your thighs, his tongue darting out to run over his bottom lip before he gazes back up at your face. he nods for you to continue, and you do, stepping out of your trousers and kicking them away from you.
"lookin' real pretty, sweetheart," dean murmurs, smiling softly at the sight of you. he shifts his weight upwards, so he can look at you properly. holding his hands out for you once more, he hums low under his breath. that coaxes you to make your way over to him, albeit the tiniest bit reluctantly still. you're still all tense. he hates seeing you so high strung. making your way over to the bed, your knees dig into the soft mattress, dipping it a little. dean quickly places his hands on your hips, sliding up under the blouse you're wearing.
his eyes rake up and down you, "gorgeous," he mumbles under his breath, squeezing at your flesh in gentle motions. as much as he'd like to worship your whole body right now, he's focused on worshiping a specific part of you right now. "you're okay with this?" he asks, placing a gentle kiss to your navel, eyes lifting back up to yours. "yeah," you murmur, "of course i am." he just needed to make sure.
"yeah? alright, up you get," dean lifts you to the side a little bit, slowly shuffling back down on the bed and laying against the mattress. his head rests against the pillow, eyes fluttering up and down you for a minute. "okay," you're tentative for a moment, reaching for your panties. though dean reaches over and eases them down your thighs for you. he swallows hard at the clear arousal dampening the thin fabric of your underwear, his breath hitching in his throat.
"starin'," you tell him gently, a soft smile playing on your lips at the sight of him. dean's eyes dart back up to yours and she scoffs, gently slapping your thigh a little bit before he grasps at your hips again. "can't wait any longer, up," he murmurs, and you bite your lip for a minute before you grasp at the headboard of the bed. dean's practically salivating, his tongue poking at the inside of his mouth for a minute before he practically tugs you down onto him.
"hold tight for me," dean mumbled, shifting his weight against the bed. just the sight of your bare pussy hovering mere inches above his face has him reeling. without hesitation, he grasps at your hips properly and tugs you down onto him. burying his face between your thighs, he lets his tongue delve into your warm, slick folds—lapping at your clit with a hungry fervour. "fuck, baby.."
you gasp shakily, your breaths picking up almost immediately at the feel of his tongue plunging against your warmth. "oh, shit," you grasp tighter at the bedframe, head tipping back a little bit. your thighs squeeze around his head, and he groans into you at the feeling. he uses the flat of his tongue to spread your wetness around, before his tongue darts back and forth over your clit, suckling at it insistently.
"that's it," dean moans into you, eyes fluttering shut juat at the feeling of your hips rocking up against him. he licks a thick line down your pussy, hiking you up him a little bit. his nose bumping against your clit as he slowly traces his tongue over your entrance. he flutters his tongue against your wet slit, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh a little tighter.
he groans into your cunt, the vibration sending a shiver down your spin and causing your hips to twitch againsr his face again. dean tightens his grip on your hips to try encourage you to grind down against his tongue even more, coaxing louder sounds from you. "holy fucking shit," dean lets out a low laugh against you, smacking your thigh for a moment at that. it only urges you to grind down further.
dean's nothing if not focused when it comes to making you feel good, and as he suckles at your clit, flicking his tongue against it and sucking on it, he's dedicated to the job. "so wet for me, yeah, that's it, ride my face, go on," his words are muffled by his position between your thighs but you can hear them clear enough. he might be throbbing beneath the fabric of his boxers, blood rushing to his dick with every cant of your hips, but he has to make sure you're satisifed first. "that's it, baby."
he runs his hand up between your thighs, lifting his thumb to your clit and rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves, feeling the way your thighs squeeze around his head and tremble against him. "dean, dea—" dean squeezes at your thighs to shush you, murmuring against you, "i know, baby, gonna come all over my face." he squeezes at your hips a little tighter, rutting you down against him so he can circle his tongue around your entrance once more. a few more tight circles made by his thumb and your movements stutter, thighs shaking even more as your orgasm hits you.
dean's groaning the whole way, happily lapping up all of your juices with no complaints. the fact he's making you feel good is more than enough for him, more than enough. "shit," he mumbles, laying back for a moment just to take in what just just happened. before he gets a chance to help you off of him, you're easing yourself off him. "that was—hey, where are you goin'—" his eyes widen as you're practically crawling down his body, settling yourself between his thighs.
"can i?" repay the favour, of course. he'd made you feel so good, after all.
dean's in a little daze, his breathing heavy. he lifts his hand to wipe his face of your release, blinking for a minute. sliding up the headboard, his hand moves to the back of your head easily and he mutters, "like you even gotta ask, baby." his free hand unbuttons his trousers with ease, "all yours."
ִ ֹ ★ @blue-d, @gibson-g1rl, @stevelacylovebot, @psychicnatural, @funkycoloured, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @soldierboycunt, @hrtsoldierboy, @beetlejenna, @venusiers, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @https--roman, @pillwebb, @beridollie, @sl33pylilbunny, @sincerebabydoll, @angelicjackles, @deansbite ִ ꒱
#𐙚˙ ana writes ⋆.˚#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#jensen ackles smut#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles#dean winchester x you#jensen ackles x you#supernatural#supernatural x reader#supernatural smut#spn x reader#spn smut#supernatural x you#spn x you#spn
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oh so close
after a tough case, you and dean both need some stress relief. luckily, you have each other.
cw, smut! oral (f!receiving), praise kink, needy!dean, kind of softdom!dean, dirty talk, unprotected p in v (wrap it before u tap it folks), slight overstimulation, (sorry if i missed anything else!)
note, this had taken me literally so long to write because i cringe at every other line, but oh well. anyways, here is my first smut - any feedback would be appreciated!
but now, but now somehow
my words roll off my tongue right onto your lips.
*
lips. teeth. dean.
those are the only words going through your head as dean's hands squeeze your hips, tugging you closer to him with one swift movement, his mouth never leaving yours.
the hunt had been rough, and you knew that you both needed some stress relief, feeling the need buzz beneath your skin.
you knew dean felt the same way, you could hear it in his gruff tone when he told sam goodnight, not uttering another word as he pulled you into your shared motel room. you could see it as his darkened eyes bored into yours when he shut the door, swiftly locking it behind him. you could feel it when he grabbed you, crashing his lips to yours harshly. but like hell were you complaining.
you moan as dean nips at your bottom lip, groaning against your mouth, his hands winding into your hair tightly. you feel him kick off his boots, and take the hint to do the same, keeping your mouth locked with his. your own hands creep up over his strong shoulders, nails digging into the smooth skin at the base of his neck for a moment before slipping up to tangle in his hair. you gasp into his mouth as dean's hands suddenly come up to your shirt, tangling in the hem of it before ripping it harshly over your head, the display of strength making your knees weak.
with one last suck of your tongue, he pulls away from your mouth, trailing his lips across your cheek, along your jaw and down to your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin of your pulse point. the sharp sting makes you gasp, your head dizzy from the blurry line of pain and pleasure.
"sorry, baby, y'just feel so good," dean mumbles into your neck, soothing his bite with a swipe of his tongue that coaxes a needy moan from your throat. "fuck, need you, sweetheart, need you s'bad."
"dean," you whimper breathlessly, head spinning as his lips continue their onslaught of your neck. "please-"
"yeah, yeah, i gotch'a.." he mutters, sucking below the corner of your jaw before bending down, tapping the back of your thigh. taking the hint, you wrap your arms around his neck before hoisting yourself up. dean catches you easily, his arms going under your thighs and big hands splayed over your ass.
as soon as your legs are secured tightly around his waist, dean starts walking you over to the bed, lips still working incessantly at your skin. as the feeling of pure need boiling in your blood becomes too much, your hands slip down to grab dean's face, pulling him back up to your mouth.
dean groans into the messy kiss, his hands squeezing your ass before unceremoniously dropping you on the bed. you land with a gasp, pushing yourself up on your elbows as he stands above you, tearing off his flannel and t shirt, tossing it behind him. tilting your head up to look at him again, your heart stutters at the sight above you.
dean is towering over you, his shoulders tensed, hands in tight fists and jaw clenched, but oh, his eyes. his piercing emerald eyes were looking down at you like he wanted to devour you.
you both stay still for a moment, just taking each other in, the only sound in the room being your labored breaths as you just stared at one another. dean breaks the moment suddenly, practically pouncing on you with a sound that almost sounds like a growl.
perfectly chapped lips crash onto yours as calloused hands latch onto your waist, caressing your skin in gentle movements that counter the rough attack on your mouth. you moan into his mouth, body arching up into him on instinct, your hands wrapping around him and grasping at the hard muscles of his shoulders.
weak pleas of his name are swallowed by his wanting mouth, your words not reaching him as he loses himself in you like he so desperately needs to. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, almost as if to distract you as his hand snakes up from your waist under the arch of your back, his fingers expertly unclasping your bra.
finally accepting he needs air and wanting to see your bare skin for himself, dean pulls away from your lips, holding himself up on his hands over you. you lay there panting under him, watching his eyes follow the movement of his hands as they pull your bra straps from your shoulders, ripping it from your body.
when his hands move down to your worn down jeans, you push yourself up onto your hands, tilting your head to attach your lips to his neck. you suck harshly at the smooth skin at his collarbone, pulling a groan from him that only fuels the flood between your legs.
"dean..." you whisper against his skin, relishing in the way his hands stutter at your waistband. your lips continue painting his neck, trying to convey what you want with your teeth and tongue.
"shh, i know, shit, i know, baby," he mutters, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment before they open again as his shaking hands undo your jeans and start to tug them down your legs. you help him by lifting your hips, one hand wrapped around his shoulder and the other one planted on the mattress to hold you up as your lips stay attached to his neck.
as soon as you kick your jeans away, dean's hands are gripping your waist, effortlessly lifting you and moving you to rest your head on the pillows. you lay back, lips parted and swollen as you pant heavily, eyes wide and needy as you watch him.
"fuck, look at you, sweetheart," dean whispers, tongue darting out to wet his lips as his eyes rake over your nearly naked body, his gaze making you shiver. he leans over you again, breath fanning your face before he's gone again, dipping his head down to trail hot, wet kisses down your neck. "my pretty girl, all laid out and needy f'me--god, how did i get so lucky, baby?"
you can only moan in response, your head dropping back onto the pillows to give him better access to your skin as your hands dive into his hair, tangling in the short, spiky strands. dean's lips burn a trail down your neck and along your collarbone and all you can think about is how much you need him. how much you crave his touch, his gaze, his attention, his everything. if he wanted you to, you would sit still for hours, never moving a muscle as he painted himself into your skin, proving to you, himself, and everybody else that you were his.
you're snapped out of your aching thoughts when dean nips at your hip bone, causing you to yelp slightly. you lift your head from the scratchy pillows, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him.
"you with me, pretty girl?" dean asks, your hips gripped in his hands where he draws soothing circles into your skin with his rough fingers. "thought y'left me there for a second."
you shake your head, your tongue slipping out to wet your lips, fingers curling into the sheets below you when dean's hungry gaze tracks the movement. "m'here, was jus' thinking for a moment," you reply, your words already sounding slurred.
"m'kay good. 'cause i wanna see those pretty eyes locked on me when i make you feel good, yeah?" he croons, hands squeezing your hips ever so slightly. you nod, a soft groan escaping your lips as you let yourself fall back onto the bed, your head resting on the coarse pillow.
dean grins at your response, lowering his gaze between your legs as his hands spread your plush thighs, the sight making him let out a groan of his own. "fuck, sweetheart, you're soaked," he breathes, almost in awe as his hands tear off your panties, making you gasp at the sudden action.
"dean- oh-" you start to protest but are cut off as dean dives between your legs, flattening his tongue and licking a long stripe up your core, making your hips cant up off the bed. "oh shit-"
"don' move," dean mumbles from between your legs, the vibrations of his voice pulling a whimper from you. as if to enunciate his point, his large forearm moves from your thigh to wrap over your hip and your stomach, pinning your hips to the bed as his mouth wrecks you.
he swirls his tongue around your sensitive bud before sucking it between his lips, making your hands fly to his hair, gripping the short strands as if it's your lifeline. he sucks again, ripping a cry from your chest, and with a nudge of his broad shoulders, he lifts your thighs around his head, one hand gripping the plush fat of one, the other still holding your hips to the bed.
"oh god, dean-" you moan breathlessly, back arching off the bed when his tongue slips down to prod at your sopping entrance, the sensation shooting sparks of pleasure up your spine. "so good, feels s'good-"
his response is a deep groan, tongue moving back up to lap at your clit like it's water in the desert. your hands tighten in his hair, desperately trying to pull him closer, needy whimpers and whines falling from your kiss-bitten lips. you try to gasp for air, but cut yourself off with a broken moan as he plunges two fingers into your heart without warning, pumping them in tandem with his tongue.
"oh fuck, dean, please-" you babble, eyes rolling back as his fingers brush that gummy spot deep inside you.
dean kept his pace up, his tongue never slowing as he pumped and scissored his fingers inside you, almost as if he was trying to unravel you from the inside. you could feel the familiar tension building in your stomach, your back arching in a weak attempt to get away from him as the pleasure became nearly blinding.
"I can't, dean, I can't, shit, feels t'good-" you whimper, gritting your teeth and tossing your head back as you feel yourself get closer and closer to the edge.
"yes you can, baby," dean urges, lifting his mouth from your aching core just enough to speak, his eyes lifting to watch you as his fingers never break rhythm. "c'mon, cum for me sweetheart."
his rough words are all it takes for the band in your stomach to snap, dean's name leaving your lips in a cry as he sends you barreling over the edge so hard you swear you see stars behind your eyes. dean's fingers slow but don't stop, gently working you through your high as he presses kisses to your quivering thighs on his shoulders, whispering soft praises against your skin.
"that's my girl..shit, you're fuckin' drenching me, baby," he mutters, eyes glued to you as you come down from your release. "so good, such a good girl, hm?"
you whimper in response, your brain still too fuzzy with pleasure to respond properly. when you start to come down, his fingers still working at you are suddenly too much, oversensitivity making my legs twitch around his head. when you finally open your eyes, you lower your hooded gaze to dean between your legs, moving one of your hands from his hair to weakly grasp at his wrist, stopping his movement and getting his attention.
"need you, please dean, need you t'fuck me," you plead, your hand still in his hair tugging sharply to try and pull him up to you.
he grunts at your tug, obeying you and pulling his fingers from your quivering heat and bringing them to his mouth to lick clean as he crawls back over you. "mm, fuck pretty girl, y'taste like heaven," he groans, dipping down to capture your lips with his, shoving his tongue into your waiting mouth to make you taste yourself.
you moan into his mouth, the filthiness of the kiss making your toes curl as your teeth clash with his, his tongue swiping along the roof of your mouth as if to memorize the feel of it. you arch up into him, digging your nails into his scalp, your hips rolling up into his, whining into his mouth at the press of his arousal into your soaked core.
your shaky hands slip from his hair, lightly dragging your nails along his shoulders and down his toned chest, one lingering over the anti-possession tattoo inked into his skin while the other one falls down to the waistband of his jeans, fumbling with his belt.
dean groans against your mouth, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth as he pulls away with a soft pop, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.
"off," you rasp out, fingers fumbling with his belt buckle. dean makes a noise of agreement as he pulls away just enough so that you can both pull air into your lungs, ending up with you panting into each other's mouths as dean's hand drifts down to help you with his belt.
with a joint effort, you manage to undo his belt, both of your hands coming down to tug at his waistband with a frustrated whine. dean grunts in frustration as well, sitting back on his knees as he tries to maneuver out of his jeans and boxers.
as soon as the offending garments are far enough down his hips, you push up onto your knees, grabbing his shoulders and tugging his mouth back to yours. he makes a surprised sound and you use the opportunity to hook your foot around the back of his knee, gripping his shoulders tightly, and in one swift movement, you flip him over so he falls flat on his back, your legs straddling his hips.
a gasp leaves his slack, kiss-swollen lips as he falls on the bed, his lust blown eyes staring up at you so dark you can barely see the evergreen you love so much. as soon as his brain catches up, he kicks his jeans and boxers off his feet, letting them fall to the floor. you eagerly reach down between you, grasping his aching cock in your hand, pumping him a few times as you watch his face contort in pleasure below you.
"shit- baby, please," dean gasps, the air punched from his lungs when you swipe your thumb over his leaking tip. you don't respond, bringing your free hand to continue stroking him slowly as you lift your thumb to your lips, sucking his precum from your digit. he groans again, the sound strained as his hands fly to your hips, his blunt nails digging into your skin with the effort to not thrust up into your tempting heat. "c'mon, need you 'round me, sweetheart, please.."
though it's not the first time you've heard these please fall from his lips, hearing dean winchester beg for you, knowing he's a man who doesn't beg for anyone, breaks your barely kept self restraint.
you stop pumping him, leaning forward and bracing one hand on his chest as the other guides him to your entrance. you both let out a low moan as you sink down onto his length, the familiar stretch making your breath catch in your chest.
slowly, you take him in, desperate to feel every inch of him as your gummy walls suck him in greedily. dean lets out a soft groan at the intense feel of you around him, the sound making you clench around him, which causes his grip on your hips to tighten. after a few painstaking moments, you finally lower onto him fully, the plush of your ass meeting his hips, punching a broken moan from your chest.
dean watches you from below, his plush bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he fights the urge to thrust up into you, to move your hips, anything to feel more of you around him, to feel you come apart on him. "c'mon, sweetheart," he groans, the high pitch tone of his voice sounding dangerously close to a whine. "need you t'move, baby."
you nod at him, a low whine escaping your throat as you start to rock your hips back and forth on him, earning a moan of approval from him below you. you work his cock inside you until the burn of the stretch turns into simmering pleasure, climbing up from your core to the tips of your fingers that dig into his chest.
dean seems to decide that your pace is too slow for him, and with no warning, he grips your hips tighter, lifting you off his cock and slamming you back down at the same time his hips thrust up into you. the sudden action makes you cry out as his harsh thrust causes the tip of his cock to hit your cervix just right, your eyes rolling back into your head.
"shit- dean," you gasp, the air punched from your lungs as he slams you down onto him again, his cock deliciously kissing your cervix with every thrust. you move your hips as well, trying desperately to keep up with his rhythm but you can't, your thighs trembling around him as you cry out above him.
"that's it, fuck, so good, baby, such a good fuckin' girl, taking me so goddamn good," dean praises, his voice strained and breathy as he fucks up into you without abandon. you can only moan in response, but next thing you know, dean sits up abruptly, wrapping his arms around you, and the world is spinning.
he flips you with ease, his arms wrapped around your shoulders and waist lowering you back onto the bed, his cock never slipping from you. as soon as your safely placed on the mattress again, dean starts pistoning into you again, plunging into you like a man possessed. his head drops to your neck, chest pressed against yours as his teeth and tongue paint every patch of skin they can reach.
your reduced to a babbling, gasping mess as he pounds into you, the heat of his skin pressed against yours and his hot breath against your neck making you dizzy. your hands fly to his shoulders, nails dragging down his back as his cock hits that gummy spot inside of you.
the shock of pleasure from him hitting that spot forces a high pitched sound that resembled his name from your lips, making him nip at your neck, growling into your skin.
"oh, right there, huh? that the spot, baby?" dean huffs into your ear, angling his hips to hit that spot over and over again, so good you feel like your floating off the bed.
"uh huh, right there, right there- shit, so good," you moan, throwing your head back, eyes rolling into your skull and lips parted as your jaw goes slack from pleasure. you claw at his back, the sharp pain only spurring him on as he bites at your collarbone, fingers digging into the sheets next to your head.
"yeah, that's it baby..you're close, I can feel it- you're, shit, squeezin' me so fuckin' tight," he groans, tongue soothing over a bite mark left from his teeth.
you nod to the best of your ability, a loud, broken moan being pulled from your lips as one of his hands reaches down between you to rub his thumb in tight, almost harsh circles on your aching clit. it's almost too much, the blinding pleasure making your skin crawl, the band in your stomach getting dangerously close to snapping.
"oh fuck, dean, m'close, 'm so close-" you whimper, weakly lifting your hips the best you can to half-heartedly meet his thrusts.
"i know, baby, i know," he breathes into your ear, his thumb speeding up on your bundle of nerves, making you see stars behind your eyes. he lifts his head from your neck, smashing his lips to yours again, making you moan into his demanding mouth. "cum for me, pretty girl, c'mon, soak my fuckin' cock."
his words, muttered against your slack lips, send you flying over the edge with a scream of his name. your back arches under him, your nails digging so hard into his back you're sure you've drawn blood, but the thought is lost on you as your vision practically goes white with pleasure. you feel yourself gushing around his length, the blinding pleasure and slight overstimulation making a tear slip down your cheek.
"fuuck, good girl, baby, good fuckin' girl," dean grunts against your mouth as he feels you come apart around him, the intensity of you squeezing around him causing him to follow you over the edge with a groan of your name. you feel him twitch before he spills inside of you, the hot sensation of his cum filling your oversensitive cunt causing aftershocks to flow through you, making you moan weakly.
when he's finally spent, his hips slow to a stop, his forehead dropping to your shoulder as you both just lay there, catching your breath and coming down from the intense moment. your head is dizzy, and you can feel a few stray tears slipping down your cheeks as you lay there, spent.
after a few moments, dean lifts his head from your shoulder, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek gently, his touch a stark contrast to what just happened. he mutters your name softly, but you're still too blissed out to do anything but hum, your eyes still closed as you pant softly.
he says your name again, his thumb stroking your cheek softly, trying to get you to open your eyes, "c'mon, sweetheart, look at me. let me see those pretty eyes."
reluctantly, you do as he says, your eyes fluttering open with great effort to look up at him through your lashes. a smile breaks out onto his face, his thumb still stroking your cheek affectionately.
"there's my girl," dean whispers, leaning down to softly press his lips to yours just for a moment, to ground you, bring you back to him. his brows furrow in concern when he pulls back, his thumb wiping away the stray tears that had leaked from your eyes. "you okay? i didn't hurt you, did i?"
your pounding heart swells with affection at his concern, and you manage the strength to smile up at him, shaking your head and leaning into his touch.
"no, it was perfect," you whisper, your voice slightly hoarse from your earlier vocalization. "i needed that."
he smiles at your answer, shifting his hand to brush some of your sweaty hair from your forehead, pressing a kiss there to your heated skin. "yeah, i needed that too," he agrees, nuzzling his nose against yours with a soft sigh.
you relish in his affection for a few moments, both of you just laying there, sharing soft kisses and taking the other in. eventually though, the stickiness between your thighs becomes uncomfortable, and you start to squirm under him.
"not that i don't love this," you whisper softly, your eyes fluttering open to meet piercing green staring back at you. you gently lift your hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb over his cheek before you move your hand to his hair, fingers brushing through the short strands at the nape of his neck. "but we should get cleaned up."
dean hums in agreement, eyes slipping shut for a moment at your ministrations, opening again as he presses open last kiss to your lips before slowly lifting himself up and gently pulling out of you, making you wince.
"i know, m'sorry, sweetheart," he mumbles, gripping your thigh with his hand, tracing comforting circles into your heated skin. once you're seperated, he pushes up onto his knees before leaning down again, wrapping his arms under your back and lifting you into his arms.
you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his neck as carries you, resting against him as he walks to the motel bathroom. you feel an overwhelming sense of both relief and affection as his thumbs gently stroke the skin of your back while he carries you, and you turn your head, pressing a soft kiss over his pulse point, letting your lips linger against his skin.
"love you," you whisper into his skin, hoping that he doesn't just hear your love, but feels it along his spine, under his skin, and in his bones, wishing you could carve it into him until he knew he deserved it.
"i know," is his response, and you smile against him knowing that even when he doesn't say it back, he loves you. you feel it in the way he craves you, the way he protects you and keeps you safe, and you feel it in the reverent way he touches you, as if you are the only altar he will get on his knees for.
that is how you know dean winchester loves you, and you will spend the rest of your life proving to him that he deserves that kind of love too, even if it kills you.
a/n: ok, so here it is! this took me so friggin long to write but its finally done (thank god). just by the way, this was all written at like 3 in the morning on various days, so I am very sorry if this sucks. but anyways, thank you for reading and if you have any feedback, pls let me know!
p.s - I know i'm not like a big writer or anything but if anyone wants me to start a taglist lmk!
#dean winchester x you#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fluff#jensen ackles#jensen fucking ackles#supernatural#supernatural drabble#supernatural smut#dean winchester drabble#dean winchester one shot#merry christmas
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breathe, baby — sam winchester
cw : gn!afab!reader, smut, no plot, fluff, brief mention of canon typical violence & demons at the beginning, making out, clothed grinding, fingering, swearing, pet names (baby, honey), praise, sam calls reader pretty/beautiful, light dom/sub dynamics in the later half (softdom!sam), allusions to oral (r!receiving) 4.1K words.
summary : after a close call on a hunt and a confession, you and sam have sweet, desperate sex. MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI WITH MY NSFW CONTENT. YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED !!!
MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!
this is the second time that you find yourself gasping in sam’s arms in one night. just two hours ago, it was an unpleasant sensation; he held you close as you tried to catch your breath after nearly being choked into unconsciousness by a demon. the part where he held you close was not the unpleasant part. despite the fact that you were having difficulties breathing, you very much so savored the feeling of having him close.
but this… this isn’t just pleasant, it’s pleasure itself. you decide that there’s nothing finer than sam winchester kissing you. he kisses you so hard you can barely breathe, so hungrily that his nose scrunches up and his lips swallow yours and when you part, you’re gasping for breath.
“sam,” you pant out, his big nose still pressed against your cheek and the feeling of his tongue in your mouth lingering so strongly it’s almost buzzing.
“yeah? you okay?” he asks, his own voice just as breathless as yours. the large hand he has resting on the side of your face glides along your cheekbone, fingertips soothing against your skin and wide palm brushing past your ear. his touch dips, lightly ghosting over the bruises on your neck, but it doesn’t hurt, not with how soft he is.
“i’m good,” you assure him, still catching your breath, mind still reeling over the fact that you’re straddling his lap on a motel room bed and his big arm is wrapped around your waist. “really good. just… just wanted to tell you that i’m never gonna let you stop kissing me,” you murmur. his face is so close that you feel the movement of his lips stretching into a smile. he parts further from you, still cupping your cheek. he wants to look at you.
“yeah?” he asks again, voice pleased and tinged with this roughness that isn’t just lust. with sam, it’s always so much more. he’s smiling and his eyes are dark in the dim light of the room and you press a sweet kiss to his grin because you can’t resist it. he kisses back, only a little because he’s busy smiling.
“yeah,” you whisper, pulling away again so he can see that you’re smiling too. that gets him going. really everything about you gets him going, but to have you on his lap, your chest pushing him back into the headboard and your soft smile as you say sweet, almost sappy things? that’s more than enough to drive him crazy.
he wants to be gentle. so, very gentle, but he can’t help himself when both of his hands grab at the sides of your face and pull you back to him. it’s not like he’s rough by any stretch, but there’s a certain desperation thrumming through him, transerfing from his firmly placed palms and almost trembling fingertips to the warm skin of your cheeks.
the force with which he kisses you pushes you backwards, and one hand flies from its spot on his waist to steady yourself on the mattress behind you. the small sound that escapes your throat is muffled by his greedy mouth, and he wants to hear more. all of your sighs and sweet sounds, thusfar quiet and somewhat controlled, have been driving him truly crazy.
almost regretfully, he allows one hand to slide down from your face to your waist, his hold there strong as he hoists you further up into his lap. he’s hard underneath you, and you moan at the feeling. your mind goes blank for a moment, long enough for him to attach his lips to the spot where your jaw curves up to your ear. you sigh aloud at that too, and sam is feeling very satisfied with your reactions; your lips staying parted and your eyes glazing over when you finally feel a semblance of just how big he is.
he gives your sensitive skin a little suck and your hands fist at the fabric of his white undershirt. he feels your knuckles against his side through the thin cotton, your grip pulling the fabric taut around his back. that’s all the encouragement he needs to keep going.
his tongue is just as greedy as his soft lips as it swipes over the skin of your neck, savoring your taste. the sweat and grime of the hunt had been washed off in the shower not too long ago, but your skin is just a little salty from getting all worked up in his lap. sam is utterly obsessed with that taste, his tongue flattening against your pulse point when you tip your head back to give him better access. the loud breath that you let out is halfway to a moan, and both of you are thinking about his tongue being somewhere else.
you push your hips into him at that thought and sam lets out a low groan at the pressure. now you’re feeling greedy. there’s no way you’ll survive without hearing more of him. you grind into him again and he grips your hips tight, letting out another gruff sound.
“shit, baby,” he groans, hot breath fanning against the skin of your neck. you huff at the sound of his voice, gone all husky and desperate. “what do you– what do you want here? you okay to keep going?” sam sounds like the only thing he’s doing right now is holding back.
“yes,” you gasp out, “god, yes.” you slip your hands all the way down his sides until you can grip the hem of his shirt. “can– can i?”
sam’s chest heaves at the sound of your voice, your sweet question, and the way that you look right into his eyes with such a caring, pleading gaze. he realizes that you’re being careful with him, just like he is with you, and he just has to kiss you for it. you kiss back without question, fingers still gripping his shirt. when he pulls away, he has to keep himself from ripping the shirt off himself, but he wants to see and feel you do it yourself.
“‘course you can,” he says, voice hushed. the small wait is more than worth it when your eyes turn excited and your hands fumble to pull the fabric up his sides. your knuckles brush against his bare skin and once you reach his chest, he lifts his arms and pulls it the rest of the way off. his hands are back on your hips in seconds, and you’re too busy raking your gaze over the exposed skin of his torso to see him swallow thickly as he takes in the way you look at him.
you completely forget that you planned to rip off your own shirt too, and instead lean forward to kiss his collarbone with a heavy fervor. his head tilts back a little as he sighs and you grab at his waist, thumbs eager and brushing against his warm skin. you kiss and lick and suck and sam moans for you. his fingers slip under your shirt and you welcome the sensation, kissing him harder in response.
you dip your head lower, hands beginning to roam, up his muscled arms, over his belly, somehow soft and toned all at once. your mind and body are at war. you want to keep kissing, getting lower, dragging your hands up and over his chest. but you want his hands to move, to feel you all over. then you suppose that you could certainly get both. you part from him for just a moment to pull your shirt off, your hands brushing against his as they hold your waist tight.
his jaw clenches and his eyes turn hungry as he watches you intently. you waste no time in taking off your bra too, watching his face as you do. his tongue swipes over his bottom lip as he sees your bare chest rising up and down and he holds back a pleased groan.
he raises his hand up and you think he’s going to touch you there, but he reaches for your face and brushes his knuckles over your cheek bone.
“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispers. there’s a rasp to his voice, rough and sweet as he takes you in. your cheeks grow hot, but you bask in the praise anyway.
“and you’re fucking unreal, sam,” you say earnestly, voice equally as husky. he grunts and grabs at your sides, pulling you back into him and kissing your hard. his thumbs push a little into the plush of your breasts and his palms press into your ribs. you arch your back into him, pushing your chest against his and you feel his lip curl up against yours as a guttural sound forces its way out of his throat. a sigh of pleasure leaves your lips and you grind against him in earnest. his hips buck up into yours and the vague thought that he must be uncomfortable in those jeans floats through your mind.
he groans into your mouth and you just need him to touch you more. you pull away, chest heaving, hands roaming. on instinct, sam reaches further up, but at the last second he grips your shoulder instead.
“can i?” he chokes out.
“yes,” you whine, nodding impatiently and sliding your hands up to his chest, asking for your own permission with your eyes. he catches the pause and look in your eyes and he feels all soft for you again. he leans in close, nuzzling his nose into your cheek and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth.
his voice is still hoarse, but loving too. “you can touch me wherever you want, honey. promise.” you swallow a moan and reciprocate his sweetness with a kiss to his cheek.
“you too, sam,” you huff. “promise i’ll tell you if i need you to stop, but please… don’t stop.”
“okay,” he breathes, “okay, i won’t. i won’t, baby.” with that, he just paws at you, taking and grasping and groaning when you brush your thumbs over his nipples. “shit,” he gasps, his nose still digging into the soft skin of your cheek. he reciprocates, flicking over your hard nipples with his big thumbs, pinching a little and making you whine into his mouth.
it all feels so good, but all you can think about is the ache between your legs. his bulge under your clothed core has you wet, and you need more. you need his fingers.
you dip your head and his lips meet the crown of your head as you squeeze the flesh over his ribs and gasp for breath.
“oh, god. sam, please, i need… more, please,” you croak, dropping your head all the way down to his shoulder and pressing a messy, open mouthed kiss to the skin where his shoulder meets his neck.
“okay, okay. i can give you more,” he whispers fervently, grabbing your hips and lifting you up. you follow his lead, scrambling off of his lap. “go ‘head, lay down, honey,” he urges softly, eyes dark and hungry. you heed his instructions eagerly, settling into the pillows behind you as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, just to ease the pressure. they hang loose on his hips and his black boxers show off his bulge even better.
you’re about to ask him to just take his jeans all the way off when he carefully grabs your legs from under your knees and drops them open, stunning you into silence. he settles between your legs and slips his hands under the waistband of your sweatpants. he starts to tug at them and he doesn’t have to ask for you to lift your hips for him to shimmy your pants down your ass and onto your thighs. you lift your knees to your chest so that he doesn’t have to move down to get them off.
“so good for me,” he murmurs once they’re fully off, his big hand running down your thigh while the other keeps your knees tucked up. you groan a little at his words, at the sensation, and squirm without thinking. “shhh,” he hushes gently, “‘s okay, ‘m gonna help you out, sweetheart. can i take these off?” he asks, big fingertips playing with the hem of your panties.
you nod your head quickly. “please, yes.” you don’t think you could have him quickly enough.
with your permission, sam doesn’t waste any time. there’s no need for you to lift your hips; he just pushes your knees further into your chest with one hand and slips the waistband down. his knuckles brush against the skin of your ass and you think about how big his whole hand would feel there. but you choose to focus on the look on his face when he pulls your panties all the way down and lets your legs fall open around him.
his pupils are blown out and lips curved up in awe as he runs his hands up your thighs. when you shudder at his touch he applies light pressure, pushing your legs into the bed and humming, all pleased with your reactions.
“please, sam,” you whine, voice breathy and begging as you try your hardest not to squirm so much. but having him over you, his eyes just staring at your bare cunt and big, big hands gripping your upper thighs after more than just months of pining for him… it’s not easy to stay still or quiet or be able to think, really.
sam is holding back from looping his hands under your thighs, pulling you to him and just shoving his face against your pussy. it’s wet and shiny for him and just begging for attention and he needs to taste you more than anything in the world. but he wants what you want and he wants to be soft and careful about it all, for you.
“how do you want it, baby?” he asks hoarsly. under your breath, you swear softly, unbelieving that you’re so lucky to have him.
“y-your fingers, sam, please,” you whine out, eyes glued to the way they look over your thighs, digging lightly into the flesh. they’re so long and thick and you can’t even imagine how much better than your own. sam can’t even be disappointed that you didn’t ask for his mouth; the way he can so clearly see how much you want his fingers, how much you’ve thought about them, gets him going perfectly well enough. and there’s nothing stopping him from eating you out right after he’s made you cum on his fingers. that sounds like heaven.
“okay, honey,” he whispers, rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive skin right where your thighs melt into your outer lips and your eyebrows knit together in desperation. he can’t help himself when he drifts just one hand over your heat, ghosting your skin and making you shiver and moan. his fingertips brush over your lower tummy and the heel of his palm picks up a little of your slick. “so pretty,” he murmurs. you toss your head to the side and into the pillow and breathe heavy.
“please, sam, please,” you gasp, trying not to buck your hips up into his hand, but twitching up anyway.
“alright, alright,” he exhales softly, pressing his hand all the way over you and reveling in the way your eyes squeeze shut and your hips cant up, trying to add more pressure. he lifts his other hand to your hip and presses you back into the mattress gently. just that makes you moan softly. really, sam just wants to keep looking, feeling, exploring. he wants to put both thumbs on the sides of your outer lips and pull them apart and look and feel you shiver against him and tease up and down your slit.
but he really wants to make you feel good, so he shifts his hand and starts rubbing your clit with two fingers gently. you sigh out, long and loud and pleasured. your hips move up into him again as your hands fly up to grip the pillow by your head. sam groans at the sight.
he dips his fingers lower for a quick second, gathering some of your wetness and rubbing it into your clit. you cry out this time, one hand loosening its grip on the pillow in favor of fumbling for the hand that sam still has pressing your hips down. he obliges happily, holding your hand against your hip bone and goddamn smiling at you.
the pressure builds quickly and you moan and whine and squirm for him, all while he looks at you with awe and love and determination.
“you’ve been so polite for me,” he notes, pleased. “always saying please without me even asking you to.” his tone is hushed and a little gravely before he leans down to place a kiss to your lower stomach. you hum out a sweet moan. “and you sound so lovely, so pretty, honey,” he murmurs.
you grip his hand and the fabric of the pillow and push your face into your upper arm, whining out at his words.
“sa-sam, please, baby,” you groan, “m-more, i need more, i want your fingers in me, please!”
sam grunts at your words. “fuck, you’re so good. asking for exactly what you want, using your words for me, god. i’ll give it to you, ‘f course, i’ll give it to you.” he’s got to be fucking obsessed with you. he starts with one finger, gently prodding at your entrance before easing it in.
“shit…” you moan, stretching the word out and letting your voice break in pleasure. “s-so good,” you mumble, gripping his hand even tighter.
“yeah?” he whispers, pulling his finger out just a little before pushing it back through your folds.
“a-ah! yes,” you pant out. “f-fuck, sam, i–,” you cut yourself off with another moan when he sets a steady pace, just his one finger working wonders. but you’re growing just a little desperate, so worked up and so fucking in love with him that it’s driving you crazy. “m-more, please,” you whine.
“okay, i got you,” he mumbles, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb as he gently pushes in another finger.
“gahh– god!” you gasp. “shit, sammy. so good, that’s so good.” you writhe under him as he pumps his long fingers into your begging cunt, making such a lewd, wet sound. “a-ah, fuck! right there, sam. oh my god, right there,” you babble, hips pushing into his hand. it’s not as if no one’s ever hit your sweet spot before, but fuck, it’s different when it’s sam. everything’s different, better, more intense, when it’s sam.
“yeah? right there?” he presses a kiss to closest place he can reach, bending down and catching the skin of your thigh between his lips. he’s more than just pleased that he’s found your sweet spot so quickly, and as he continues pushing the soft pads of his fingertips right against your gummy walls, he soaks it up, memorizinng it all.
the way your moans change, your voice jumping in pitch and getting louder, they way you buck up into his hand and the way that you clench around him. and your face, god he could look at it all day, maybe cum in his pants just from seeing you like this. all desperate and needy and blissed out; pupils blown, eyebrows knit together, and mouth hanging open half of the time to let your pretty sounds out. or he gets to watch you snap your jaw shut, bite and lick at your bottom lip, hold a groan back only for your lips to part again to pant and gasp and moan. it’s almost like you forget how to breathe through your nose, and it makes you sound all the more worked up.
as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge, he squeezes love into your hand, making you think about his palm against yours and somehow making it all more intense. his thumb rubs the back of your hand soothingly, such a stark contrast to the strength and fervor with which he fucks his fingers into you.
“breathe, baby,” he reminds you sweetly. god, it’s hard to comply as you watch the muscles of his arm tensing as he pleases you, the veins of his hands and arms popping out with the rush of his blood. but you take in a long, deep breath and let it out. it shudders and ends in a whine, but your muscles relax for a moment and you melt a little into the mattress for just a moment.
“h-haahh, sam, i’m– mm, i’m close!” you whine, thighs tensing up again. you lift your knees and push your feet into the mattress on either side of his thighs, trying hard not to close your legs as the pleasure becomes so intense that you can’t keep still at all.
“fuck, that’s good. you gonna cum for me?” he asks, getting eager. he can’t wait to see you tip over the edge, to feel it. but he doesn’t get greedy, just in case this is the perfect pace for you.
you answer his prayers in the form of a dirty moan. “huh-harder, please!”
sam is more than happy to oblige. he already knows that he loves to be soft with you. he loves to have his fingers stuffed up your pussy while he holds your hand and kisses your thigh sweetly. he loves to speak to you all gentle and loving and dirty too. but he does love the way you react when harder means just a little rougher, deeper, and faster. your jaw falls all the way open and you can’t close it. your eyes shut tight, then fly right back open because you don’t want to miss the sight of his fingers pumping into you like this. you don’t want to miss the way his face looks as he does it.
and it makes you loud. you’re used to keeping yourself quiet when you take care of yourself, but that’s not an option this time around. not with sam.
and of course, it makes you cum. it sends you reeling, keening, and it pulls his name from your mouth with a force that you’ve never felt before. and sam swears he’s gonna make you cry out his name like that every fucking day, if you’ll let him.
“fuck, fuck, fuck, ahh– sam! feels s’good,” you slur. “sam…”
you clench around him so hard that it’s not necessarily easy to fuck you through it, but he does so good anyway. you shudder and pant and whine, and his name said again, all breathy and slurred is just as good as the first shout. and finally, you fall against the bed with a huff of breath, the sheets beneath you wet and messy.
you tense and whine when he pulls his fingers from you, and he’s quick to hush you gently.
“oh, you did so good, baby,” he murmurs, settling his still slick-covered hand on your hip and it makes you shiver just a little. he shuffles a bit closer to you, dropping his head down to kiss your sweet lips. you can barely kiss back when you’re so breathless, but you try, so he settles for sucking a little on your bottom lip and letting you sigh against his hot skin. your hand drops down from where it gripped the pillow, settling hungrily on his broad shoulder and running up and down the skin.
“felt so good,” you mumble against his lips, still blissed out. his smile interrupts the lazy kiss, and he feels greedy again. insatiable, really.
“will you let me make you feel good again?” he whispers, making sure you know that you can say no if it’s too much. it’s clear to him that you need to catch your breath, so he certainly won’t start right away. not until you ask him to.
“god, you’re too good to be true,” you say, wondering at him. “but i wanna make you feel good, too.”
he smiles wider, then kisses you again with a little more passion than the last. “trust me, honey. this’ll make me feel real good. i wanna taste you, so fucking bad, baby.”
you can’t help the groan that escapes your throat at his words. “yeah?” you ask breathlessly.
“uh-huh,” he nods, nose tickling the skin of your cheek. “you gonna let me make you cum on my tongue, honey?”
“fucking yes,” you pant, “yes, please, sam… make me cum on your tongue.”
it doesn’t take long to learn; if you let him start, he’s never gonna be able to stop. he’s completely obsessed and in love with you, and you can expect his mouth on your pussy until the day he dies.
#sam winchester smut#supernatural smut#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x gn!reader#supernatural#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester suggestive#sam winchester x you#sam winchester#sam winchester drabble#supernatural headcanon#sam winchester supernatural#sam winchester headcanon#supernatural suggestive#spn sam winchester#sam winchester fluff
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₊˚⊹♡ letting you | sam winchester x reader
a/n - this might be the fastest i’ve ever written a fic??? it’s pure filth so that might be why but LMAO, i love love love the idea of soft dom sam sm he melts my brain, hopefully this is good!! getting back into writing after taking a break from being sick bc my brain wouldn’t work. special thanks to my friend who helped me brainstorm the delicious idea ilysm !! <3
cws - fem!reader, 1.6k, nsfw 18+, softdom!sam, sub!reader, cockwarming, masturbation, praise, kinda unedited
other fics can be found on my masterlist
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
The only thing she could hear was Sam’s soft breathing, and the soft tap tap tap of his laptop keys behind her.
If she paid close enough attention, she could hear the way his shirt rustled when he moved his arms, the soft fluttering of book pages being turned, but her focus wasn’t really attainable, it was slipping through her fingers with each excruciating moment that she was sat there.
Sam shifted in his seat out of a pure intention to get comfortable, and his cock nudged deeper inside of her wet heat, dragged a soft gasp from her lips, which just earned her a soft “shh, honey” against the shell of her ear.
It had been her fault that she was in that position in the first place. She’d been a little too needy with Sam when he was trying to research, and on her third attempt at trying to initiate a — much needed, mind you — make out, he’d grabbed her hips and tugged her into his lap facing him. His voice had been a little stern as he told her to pull his cock out, and the tone of his voice alone had her cunt clenching around nothing as she quickly did as she’d been asked. She knew that voice, she’d had it in her ear most nights, whispered against her throat, against the plush of her thighs. It meant he was in control.
Sam had sat back from the library's table for enough time for her to pull his cock out and pull aside her panties, sank down onto him with a soft moan, but before she could move he grabbed her hips tightly, kept her still.
“Don’t move,” he’d dipped his head down and kissed her throat, pulse fluttering beneath his lips. “Stay there while I finish up and I’ll take care of you after, hm?”
If she was feeling a bit more bratty she would’ve whined or complained or just moved anyways, but his voice in her ear and his hands on her hips had her head spinning, so she just nodded and tucked her head against his throat as he leaned over her to continue what he was doing, completely focused, as if he wasn’t buried deep inside her pussy at that moment.
That had been twenty minutes ago.
It was becoming torturous.
Sam was unfairly skilled at keeping composed. He was also unfairly skilled at winding her up. Those two went hand in hand, it seemed, because each second that passed just worked her up more and more. All she could focus on was the warmth of his body pressed to hers, his cock nestled deep inside of her, the lack of stimulation. When she’d came out to the library with her attempt at bothering him, she’d craved a genuine release, not this.
Her hips shifted slightly and she squeezed her eyes shut, huffed out a soft “Sammy” against his throat when that slight movement was enough for her pussy to throb around him.
“Stay still.” He murmured without as much of a look in her direction. She glanced up at him and his eyes were locked forwards, pupils shifting left to right as he read whatever was displayed on his laptop screen. Tap tap tap, more pages turned, more reading, rinse, repeat. He was killing her.
Barely a minute had passed before she made another soft sound against the warm skin of his throat, lips brushing his neck, “Baby please-”
“My hands are busy, sweetheart,” his voice was so nonchalant it drove her up the wall. “I don’t know what you want me to do.”
Her eyes squeezed shut as she huffed against his throat again. “Can you just take a break?”
“No,” he shook his head. “No, I’m almost done, you’ll just have to wait,” he tsked, a hand briefly pet her hair, the touch so light it was like he was purposely depriving her of any stimulation. “If you’re that needy, you have two hands of your own, baby. Sort yourself out until I’m finished with this.”
She released a shuddered breath against his throat, squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. It wasn’t the answer she’d wanted.
“Hey,” one of his hands came up to the side of her neck and he pressed his thumb against her jaw, tilted her head back until he could meet her eyes. “I told you I’d sort you out once I finished, didn’t I?”
She nodded, bit the inside of her cheek.
“So isn’t it nice of me that I’m letting you get yourself off in the meantime?”
Letting you. Her cunt throbbed again.
“Yeah.” She whispered.
Sam leaned down and kissed her, just a soft little peck, and somehow it just riled her up more. “I’ll be done soon. Go ahead and sort yourself out for me, sweetheart.”
He let go of her jaw and moved his arms to the table again, continued tapping at his laptop, and her eyes scrunched closed again as she tipped forward and rested her forehead against his throat. But she was so needy that she didn’t think twice about following his instructions. One hand stayed tucked at his waist, fingers curled into the soft material of his flannel, and her other reached between them and tucked under the material of her shirt, fingering at the waistband of her panties until she slipped beneath those too, and she was so fucking wet that she was undoubtedly making a mess of his jeans from just sitting there.
Her fingers dipped down, pressed against her clit, and she shuddered as the stimulation made her clench around his cock deliciously. She pressed her fingers forwards again, started to shamelessly rub herself, exhaled soft little moans and sighs against his throat.
Before she could do anything else Sam’s voice was in her ear again, “Quiet, sweetheart. You’re meant to be letting me work, don’t make me tell you to stop.”
Her jaw clenched as she exhaled shakily, eyes squeezed shut, and she huffed a breath against his throat as she took a moment to compose herself. Now that she’d started touching herself, it’d just be a torture to stop, so she just nodded against his throat with the intent to keep herself quiet.
It took a moment for her to settle on a pace. She was a bit too needy with it, her hand squished between their bodies, knuckles pressed to his hard muscles each time she shifted her hand, but eventually she settled into a pace that had her eyes rolled back and squeezed shut, the fingers of her other hand curled tightly into the material of his flannel.
She circled her clit with the pads of her fingers again and again, but it was the feeling inside of her every time her cunt clenched around his cock that made it hard for her to keep quiet. She was half tempted to bite down on his collar to shut herself up, but Sam seemed to be letting her get away with the slight gasps and whimpers that she couldn’t stop herself letting up.
It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close — her forehead was pressed to his throat, hot breaths puffed out against his skin, trying not to shift her hips as she rubbed at her clit with a need that thrummed within her veins. Her jaw clenched and she held her breath, eyes squeezed shut tighter as she worked herself closer.
“Breathe,” Sam’s breath tickled her ear as he spoke softly. She had a tendency to hold her breath when she came sometimes if she was especially worked up — she didn’t even know Sam was paying attention. She took a shuddery breath, and he murmured a soft, “that’s it.”
It only took a few more circles on her clit before she came and she grit her teeth, huffed out a sharp breath through her nose as the feeling washed over her. Her cunt pulsed in pleasure, waves that kept her rubbing at her clit until it felt too much, and when she finally stopped she was breathing sharply against his neck. Her hand was a bit cramped, fingers wet, heartbeat drumming, but the release felt so nice after she’d been so worked up.
“Good girl,” Sam crooned, and she could’ve cum again at the tone of his voice. “Good girl. Did that help?”
She nodded against his throat, relaxed into his front.
“Yeah?” He asked. “Are you gonna keep still until I’m finished now?”
She nodded again.
“Baby,” she felt his hand smooth up her back until his fingers delicately tangled in her hair, only enough to pull her head back to look at him. “I wanna hear you say it.”
She blinked a few times up at him. He was so devastatingly handsome, it wasn’t fair. “I’ll keep still,” she mumbled, face feeling far too hot. “Promise.”
“Oh, you promise?” She didn’t miss the teasing edge to his words, the smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
She nodded again. “Yeah, Sammy.”
“Good girl,” he praised once more, and was nice enough to give her a proper kiss that time. It still wasn’t what she craved — she didn’t feel his tongue in her mouth, he didn’t kiss her until she went dizzy — but it was nicer and kinder than a little peck. “Ten minutes and I’m all yours.”
She settled back into his chest as he went back to work, comfy to just rest against him in her post-orgasm euphoria, happy to wait the ten minutes until he was finished. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d fucked her on the library table that week.
#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x you#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester smut#sam winchester imagine#sam winchester drabble#sam winchester oneshot#sam winchester fic#sam winchester fanfiction#spn#spn one shot#spn x reader#supernatural#supernatural smut#supernatural one shot#supernatural x reader
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