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fatecantstopme · 2 months

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Not Good Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: You overhear Dean say some hurtful things about you to Sam and decide you need to change, much to Dean's dismay.

Warnings: cursing, mutual pining, mentions of violence, body issues/esteem issues, past trauma, illusions to eating disorders and sexual assault. SMUT, oral (M and F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dom/sub vibes, dirty talk.

You didn't like to think about your life before the Winchesters. Most of the time, it was easier to pretend you didn't have a past--no dark and morbid history to share, no pain and trauma still lingering deep within you.

Sam and Dean were the only ones you'd felt comfortable opening up to, and even that took years. Life had not been kind to you, and the scars on your body and in your mind were the proof.

Eight years ago, your hellish life took a turn for the better, but only after you almost lost it. You'd been walking home after a late night filled with bad decisions, when you were attacked. The man was fast, vicious, and cruel--taking what he wanted from you and leaving you for dead.

As fate would have it, the Winchester brothers were in town hunting a nest of vampires, and had been prowling around downtown waiting for one to make an appearance.

It was Dean who heard your screams, your cries for help, your sobs. It was Dean who came running into the dark alleyway without a thought for his own well-being. It was Dean who dropped to his knees beside your beaten and broken body...who took his jacket off and draped it over you to cover your mostly exposed form. It was Dean who gently scooped you into his arms and carried you to his car...and it was Dean that stood beside your hospital bed until you opened your eyes again.

Sam had eventually tracked down the man who had attacked you. It turned out, he had attacked several other women in the downtown area over the previous few months. Dean had been surprised to discover the man was just that--a man. Not a shapeshifter, a ghoul, a demon...not a vampire or a werewolf...just a man. His status as a human did not, however, make him any more safe from your avenging savior.

You'd never asked Dean exactly what had happened to your attacker, and he'd never talked about it. All you knew was he would never hurt anyone ever again.

It was unlike Dean to trust a stranger, and certainly out of character for him to confide in one, but there was something about you that seemed to draw him in. He felt as if he'd found a kindred spirit in you, someone who could understand him in a way even his brother couldn't.

Once you were on the mend, Dean made you an offer--one you were thankful you didn't refuse. You joined the brothers on their adventures--saving people, hunting things, the whole nine yards.

Overtime, you had become an integral part of their small family unit. Either brother would have died for you and you for them. There had been more than one close call for each of you over the past eight years, and more than one monster brutally slain to protect you.

You were closer in age to Sam, only a year younger than him, but Dean had always been the one you were closer to. Just as Dean had seen a kindred spirit in you, you had seen one in him. He understood you, he respected you, and he cared about you more deeply than anyone in your life ever had.

In the long years you'd spent in their constant company, you'd begun to change. The darkness that lived inside you seemed to fade, as if being near the Winchesters brought a light into your life you didn't know you needed. The mental scars you'd carried began to heal, even if the ones on your skin would always be visible.

There were still days where the darkness would rise within you, dark thoughts rolling through your mind, bringing you to your knees with a pain you could never describe. There were days when you would look in the mirror and hate the reflection gazing back at you--seeing the girl you had once been instead of the woman you now were.

There were moments when you'd forget all the progress you'd made, mind focusing instead on all of your flaws, all of your failures. The worst part was many of them lived only in your mind--you knew no one but you could see them, but that didn't make them any less real to you.

Lately, you had been struggling with self-esteem issues you'd long since buried. You'd thought you'd come to terms with who you were and what you looked like--accepted the body you had. Weight had been a struggle for you your entire life, and for a long time, you turned to terrible habits in order to lose weight and attempt to keep it off.

Those habits had ended eight years ago, but the issues they'd covered did not. Today was one of the bad days. One of the days you stared in the mirror and hated the image you saw--the softness, the curves, the fat. That was the word that kept repeating in your mind, fat, fat, fat.

You tried desperately to block it out, to remember why you loved your body just as it was, but those thoughts wouldn't leave you alone. The darkness inside you was too much to battle, the pain of hating yourself too much to cope with.

You'd been thankful for the bunker the day the three of you had discovered it, but you were even more grateful on days like today. Days you wanted to spend holed up in your room, refusing to face the outside world.

As much as you wanted to lay in bed for the entire day, your grumbling stomach soon became too much to ignore. You knew you needed to eat--there could be no more starving yourself, no more binging and purging--you needed to eat.

You dragged yourself out of bed and tugged on a pair of sweatpants before cautiously opening your bedroom door. You listened for the sounds of either brother moving around. Upon hearing none, you made your way slowly towards the kitchen, intent on making yourself a sandwich and retreating to the safety of your room.

Just before you rounded the corner to head into the kitchen, you heard Dean's low voice rumbling from inside. You froze in place, pressing yourself against the wall, not wanting to be seen or heard. You fully intended to creep back to your room--you really did--but the sound of your name leaving Dean's lips held you in place.

"(Y/N)'s not strong enough," Dean hissed. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was angry, very angry.

"Oh come on," Sam snapped. "She's been doing this for eight years. She's more than capable."

"Are you insane? I mean, really and truly crazy? She'll get herself killed!" Dean's voice had risen in volume and you heard Sam shush him quietly.

"Don't wake her up," Sam chided.

You heard Dean's annoyed sigh and your eyes fluttered closed for a moment. You knew what they were fighting about. You and Sam had a conversation a couple days ago about you hunting on your own. You'd asked for his thoughts and Sam had been honest and supportive. He said you were more than capable of hunting on your own, should he or Dean not be available to go with you. Your hunting skills were certainly not on their level, but if the case was simple enough, you would be fine.

Clearly Dean did not agree with his brother's assessment of your abilities. "She's not strong enough, or fast enough, or physically prepared to hunt on her own. She's just not, okay? She's different from us...she's not built like we are."

"Do you even hear yourself?" Sam asked incredulously.

You bit your lip to keep from whimpering aloud, Dean's words having cut straight through you like a hot knife. You blinked back your tears as you moved as quickly as possible back to your room without making noise.

Dean's words repeated on a loop inside your head, echoing your own darkest thoughts about yourself. Even Dean thought you were too fat, too weak, too useless to do anything on your own. You realized he likely only allowed you to hunt with him because he felt sorry for you--a pitying friendship you didn't ask for.

Despite the irrationality of your thoughts, you could not escape them. You couldn't fight them off, either because you didn't have the strength or because you were afraid they were right. Your mind once again played tricks on you, dragging you down into the darkness--but this time you succumbed, allowing your own tears to drag you into a nightmare fueled sleep.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam and Dean's conversation had continued in the kitchen. Neither of them had noticed your presence, both too upset with the other to focus on anything else.

"Look, (Y/N) is my best friend. Other than you, she's my favorite person...hell, I like her more than you sometimes," Dean confessed. "I just--I don't want to lose her. If we let her go out there without backup and something happens to her, I'll never forgive myself. I'd rather her never hunt at all, but I think she'd kill me if I told her to sit out on a fight just because I'm terrified of her dying."

Sam was quiet for a moment as he regarded his brother. Dean was not known for his vulnerability, nor for sharing any of his deeper emotions, but Sam could see something simmering just beneath the surface--some emotion beyond rage and fear lurked in his brother's green eyes.

"What are you really saying, Dean?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean looked at the floor for a long moment before answering. "When we met (Y/N), I was instantly drawn to her--like a moth to flame. I don't know what it was, but I felt connected to her in a way I'd never felt before. That feeling has only grown in the past eight years and now I can't imagine living life without her. I don't want to imagine it. A world without (Y/N) in it isn't a world I want to exist in."

Sam exhaled slowly, realization crossing his features. It was rare for Dean to care for someone so deeply, but when he did, he became irrationally protective. Sam was painfully familiar with that particular side of his brother's nature. He also knew what it meant, what Dean was really saying--even if he wasn't ready to admit it.

"You should talk to (Y/N)," Sam urged. "Both about how you feel, and about why you don't want her to hunt alone."

"What do you mean, 'how I feel'?"

Sam raised his eyebrows. "You know exactly what I mean." He didn't give his brother a chance to respond. He grabbed a water bottle from the fridge and walked out the door, claiming a need to workout.

Dean watched Sam walk away, and a feeling of mild terror settled into his bones. He'd come very close to admitting how he really felt about you and it scared him. Hell, his feelings scared him. The fact that he was foolish enough to fall in love was bad enough, but the fact that you were the one who'd stolen his heart made it so much worse.

He'd told himself he would never fall in love, never get married, never settle down--this life wasn't conducive to any sort of domestic bliss. Part of him didn't think he deserved that kind of happiness, but the main issue was the danger of loving you so deeply. He knew the risks, knew how it would turn out--bloody, like it always did.

In his mind, the only way he could keep you safe was to pretend all he felt for you was platonic friendship. He could protect you on hunts and his guard would never be down around you, so he could protect you in every way. He'd seen how far you'd come, how strong you now were, and there was no way he would be the reason the world lost your beautiful soul.

No one could ever know the truth, not even Sam. The only way this didn't end bloody was if you never even suspected Dean loved you. No monster would be able to use his love for you against you, no monster would ever hurt you just to get to him. For you, for your safety, he was willing to break his own heart.

**********

It had been three days since you'd overheard the conversation between Sam and Dean. The first two days, you'd remained secluded in your room, claiming a migraine any time either of the boys came to check on you.

This morning, however, you'd woken up with a goal. You showered, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. As you were fixing yourself some breakfast, you heard someone enter the room.

"You're up early," Sam said warmly.

You turned to glance at him with a soft smile. "I wanted to get a head start on the day."

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "You're feeling better, I take it."

You nodded. "Yeah, that headache was brutal." You felt bad for lying, but it was easier to fein a migraine than it was to admit what you'd overheard and the dark thoughts you'd been plagued with.

"Well, I'm gonna go for a run," Sam said cheerfully. "Any chance I could entice you to come with me?"

You laughed and rolled your eyes. "Not unless someone's chasing me."

He chuckled and ducked out of the kitchen, taking a bottle of water with him. Sam always asked if you wanted to join him on his morning runs, but he knew you were unlikely to ever agree. You hated running almost as much as Dean did.

You ate your breakfast quietly, contemplating your plans for the day. You had decided to start a new routine today, a routine you intended to continue until you felt better about yourself or until you could get Dean's words out of your head, whichever came first.

After breakfast, you went into the library to do some reading, intending to allow your stomach time to digest your food. You weren't sure exactly how much time had passed, but Sam had returned from his run, showered, and was now eating his breakfast at the table while scrolling through the latest news stories on his computer.

Dean, unsurprisingly, was still not awake, despite the fact that it was 10am.

You closed your book and stood up. "I'll be down in the gym if you need me," you said to Sam as you crossed the room towards the door.

"You'll--what?"

You gestured towards the hall behind you. "I'll be in the gym."

He looked perplexed, but didn't comment on your sudden desire to workout. He could tell something was a little off with you, but he had the feeling you wouldn't want to talk about it, so he decided to let it go. After all, it's not like going to the gym was something he needed to worry about--it wouldn't kill you (unlike some of your previous bad choices).

When you reached the gym, you looked around and sighed. You'd always hated working out. It was a reminder how out of shape you were and how imperfect your body was. Sure, hunting kept you relatively healthy--you had surprising stamina and endurance, but the weight just never seemed to fall off. You'd begun to feel like your fat was holding some kind of grudge against you, intent on making your life miserable for some perceived slight.

You sighed again and walked over to the treadmill in the corner. You stared at it for a few minutes, deciding whether you really wanted to use it. You'd always hated the treadmill, but you needed to start somewhere, so you hopped on and started to walk at a brisk pace.

Thirty minutes later, you switched to the stationary bike, wanting a change from the monotony of walking. Twenty minutes after that, you were bored out of your mind. You decided to try something else. Maybe lifting weights would do the trick.

About two reps in, your headphones died and you groaned in annoyance. You tugged them out of your ears and tossed them to the floor, opting instead to blast your music loudly through the bluetooth speaker Sam kept down there.

Alanis Morissette's voice now carried down the hall, but you couldn't be bothered to care. She was your go-to when you were feeling angry or upset, her music always making you feel better, especially when you scream-sang along.

After a few more reps, you decided to work on your boxing skills. Sam had taught you years ago, mostly as a way to teach you some fighting skills. You wrapped your hands to protect your knuckles, settled into your stance, and began hitting the punching bag. The release of frustration you felt was almost immediate and you realized you should have just done this from the start.

Upstairs, Dean was just returning from running an errand. He'd woken up and been distressed to find they were out of bacon and beer--his two main food groups. He'd gone to the grocery store to restock and was now happily cooking an excessive amount of bacon for his breakfast.

"You know you should eat something besides bacon, right?" Sam teased him.

"Nothing is better than bacon, Sammy. Nothing." Dean scooped the rest of the bacon onto his plate with a look of glee.

"Heart attack on a plate," Sam muttered.

"Oh shut it," Dean grumbled as he bit into his first piece. He moaned obnoxiously, causing his brother to roll his eyes dramatically. "Where's (Y/N)?" He asked, words garbled by the bacon he was still chewing.

"What?"

Dean swallowed. "Where's (Y/N)? I stopped by her room before I went out and she was gone."

"She's in the gym."

"I'm sorry, she's what?"

Sam shrugged. "She's in the gym. She went down after breakfast."

"Why?"

"I assume to work out," Sam said lightly.

Dean groaned. "Obviously, smartass, but why was she gonna work out?"

"I don't know, dude. Why don't you ask her?"

Dean looked down at his plate. "I will once I finish my bacon."

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment further.

Once Dean had finished his breakfast, he made his way down to the gym, a feeling of dread settling into his stomach. He couldn't really put a finger on why, only that he didn't like the feeling.

As he neared the gym, he heard 'You Oughta Know' blasting down the hallway. He didn't hear your voice over the lyrics until he actually entered the room. He would have smiled at the sight if he wasn't so worried about you.

Your back was to him as you continued to pummel the absolute shit out of the punching bag. Dean had to admire both your form and the power you exuded. But as he watched you, that feeling of dread began to creep higher into his chest, wrapping itself around his heart.

He called out your name, but you couldn't hear him over the music. He spotted the speaker and walked over to turn it off, plunging the room into a shocking silence.

You spun around, surprised to see Dean standing beside the speaker. "I, uhh, I called your name," he muttered sheepishly.

"Oh, sorry. I was kinda in the zone."

He nodded. "Yeah, I noticed. So, uh, whatcha doin'?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Working out...as one does in a gym."

He winced, feeling like an idiot. "I know that, but what I don't know is why."

"Why what?"

"Why are you suddenly working out in the gym for two straight hours? You hate the gym."

You stared at him with an unreadable expression. Your eyes were dark and your jaw was set as you regarded him. "You can't think of any reason?"

Dean thought about it for a moment. "No...hence why I'm asking."

You gestured to your body. "Because I'm not strong enough or fast enough or physically fit enough to hunt...sound familiar?"

Dean winced, eyes widening with realization. "(Y/N), I--"

You held up your hand. "No need to apologize, Dean. I realized you were right. I am weaker than you and Sam, I am slower and heavier and fatter--I am completely less physically capable than either of you. So obviously, I need to do something about that. Hence the gym."

Dean stared at her, anger darkening his features. "None of that is true."

"Of course it is, Dean. You said it yourself. I'm just agreeing with you."

"Of course you're not the same as us, (Y/N), but that has nothing to do with your body or your weight or your ability. We're men, and large ones at that. We're physically built different than you, but that doesn't mean you need to change anything about yourself to be more like us."

"Well clearly I do, or you wouldn't have found my body so unacceptable--you wouldn't have told Sam I'm not capable of hunting on my own."

Whatever thread was keeping Dean from yelling finally snapped. "Your body isn't unacceptable! You aren't weak! There is nothing wrong with you--nothing!"

You were stunned into silence by the intensity of his words. You didn't know how to react or what to say.

Dean sighed deeply, feeling the anger drain out of him at last. "You didn't hear the rest of our conversation, did you?" His voice was barely a whisper, but you could hear the raw emotion in it.

You shook your head.

"You should have stayed...you may have learned something."

"What would I have learned?" you asked quietly.

"You would have realized that your interpretation of my words wasn't at all how I meant them. You would have heard me tell Sam how terrified I am of losing you, how that fear makes me want to keep you out of this life--away from hunting entirely. You would have seen that I love you just the way you are--that I don't want you to change a single thing about yourself. You would know that I am the problem, not you...it was never you."

"Dean..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. "You...you don't need to try and make me feel better."

He stared at you, green eyes full of fire. "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm trying to be honest about my feelings--to make you see you the way I see you."

"Why now?"

He was taken aback by your question, and it took him several moments to respond. "You know how I feel about romantic attachments...I worry about losing the person I love most, simply because they were unlucky enough to be loved by me. The fear of losing another person I love or have them be used against me is a pain I'm not sure I can bear. But you--you deserve better than my fears. You are the light to my darkness, my reason for living. I can't stand the thought of you believing I think less of you, not when I would burn the world down to keep you safe."

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" you whispered, a glimmer of hope sparkling in your voice.

Dean took a step towards you. "If you think I'm telling you that I've been in love with you for years, that I love every single part of you inside and out, that I don't want you to change a single thing, that I think you're perfect...then yes."

You exhaled sharply, breathing ragged as you stared into his soulful green eyes.

He crossed the short distance between you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his body, not caring about the sweat staining your body.

He practically crushed you against him, holding on more tightly than you'd ever imagined he would. After several moments, he loosened his grip on you so he could gaze down into your eyes. A small, lopsided smile graced his lips and his eyes fluttered shut. As his lips grazed against yours, you sighed softly, causing him to immediately deepen the kiss.

His hands dug into your soft flesh, seemingly reveling in the feeling of your body in his arms. His kiss was everything you'd imagined it would be and so much more--you felt safe, loved, and cherished. You didn't know you could have those feelings from a single kiss, but here you were, drowning in emotion, his love the life raft saving you from darkness.

When you finally parted, Dean rested his forehead against yours. "Do you believe me, (Y/N)? Can you see how much I love you? How badly I need you?"

"Yes," you breathed. "I believe you."

He sighed happily, breath mingling with yours. "Will you let me show you?"

You pulled away from him slightly so you could see his face better.

His eyes were dark with hunger, his gaze almost predatory. If you didn't know him, you would be frightened.

"Let me show you, sweetheart," he begged softly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Let me show you how much I love your body--how badly I've wanted to touch it, mark it, make it mine. Let me touch every curve, kiss every scar--bite and lick and suck every pleasure point until you're a moaning mess in my arms. Let me make love to you the way you deserve."

No man had ever spoken to you like that, and you felt your toes curl at his words. If he could spark your body alive with nothing but words, you wondered what he was capable of doing with his body.

Your breathing was labored and your voice husky as you murmured, "How could I ever say no?"

Dean smirked and he tugged you to him again, lips crashing against yours. You felt his hands all over your body, clutching any part of you he could reach. His mouth left yours, lips trailing down your neck, nipping and sucking gently against the sensitive skin. He licked the column of your throat and groaned softly, muttering "salty" in a devilishly sexy voice.

You pulled away, suddenly remembering what you'd been doing when Dean interrupted you. "Wait--I-I need to shower first."

Dean groaned in annoyance. "No you don't."

You started to peel him off you with a light chuckle. "Yes, I do. I feel gross."

He pouted adorably. "For the record, I would make love to you on the sparing mat, right here, right now."

You laughed. "As hot as that might be, I really want to shower...I'll even let you join me." You shot him a wink and ran toward the door.

He realized what you'd said and turned to run after you, chasing you all the way to the showers. You giggled when he caught you, tugging you to him to kiss at your exposed neck and shoulders.

"Shower!" you squealed.

He groaned. "Fine, fine."

He practically dragged you into the bathroom, turning away from you to turn on the water before tugging you into the shower with him.

"Dean, our clothes--"

"They'll dry," he grumbled, fingers tugging on your shirt to lift it over your head.

You allowed him to remove it, neither of you paying attention to where it landed as he tossed it out of the shower. He did the same with his own shirt and jeans, followed by your leggings.

He spun you around, so your back was pressed against the cold tile, water spraying across your chest. He unzipped your sports bra and you allowed it to fall to the ground, revealing your heavy breasts to his wanton eyes.

"Fuuuuck," he groaned, lips attaching to your pert nipple.

You ran your hands through his hair as he continued his gentle assault on your breasts. His lips didn't leave your chest, even as his hands trailed down to slowly peel off your underwear.

He slipped two fingers between your folds, collecting your slick and pressing firmly against your clit. You moaned softly at the sensation, head falling back against the tile.

He removed his fingers, slipping them between his lips and sucking them dry. "I need more," he murmured hungrily.

He dropped to his knees and grabbed your right leg, slinging it over his shoulder before you could utter a word. You started to complain that you needed to wash the sweat off first, but he ignored you, tongue sweeping between your folds without a care.

Any protests you may have had were lost as he worked his magic on your pussy. Your fingers twisted into his short hair, head back, mouth open, drowning in the pleasure he was giving you. You were thankful for the tile you leaned against and his strong arms holding you in place as he feasted on you.

Your legs began to shake and you cried out his name seconds before your orgasm hit you, sending you spiraling into bliss. Dean didn't want to stop, but your hands weakly tugged on his hair and your legs began to buckle, so he pulled himself up to keep you from falling.

"Delicious," he whispered against your mouth as he pressed another kiss to your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him closer to you and he shifted to press his body tightly against yours. You gasped as his still clothed member brushed against your thigh and your hands instantly slid down his body to rid him of the annoying fabric.

"Wanna touch you," you begged softly.

He groaned, but pulled away from your reach.

"Dean," you whined.

"Shh, let me wash you first," he insisted.

"But--"

He cut you off with a kiss. "Let me worship you before you touch me--I wanna make this about you."

Your expression softened and you leaned into him. "I love you, Dean."

Your voice was a low whisper, but he heard it all the same. You hadn't said the words earlier, a fact he had been trying to ignore. Hearing you say them now nearly had him throwing all his plans for the next week out the window--wanting to do nothing more than worship you from dusk to dawn for the foreseeable future.

"Dean?" you whispered warily, concern filling your eyes.

He used all his self-control to push his own needs and wants aside. "I heard you, baby," he assured you. "I heard you."

His kiss was gentler this time, sweeter even, and it warmed your body from the inside out. He broke away, panting, a whispered "I love you" pressed into your skin as he made his way down your body and back up again.

After what felt like an eternity, he grabbed the shower gel and loofa and slowly began to lather you up, washing your body in a surprisingly sensual way. When he finally decided you were clean, he helped you under the spray and made sure all the suds were rinsed off.

"Can I touch you now?" you begged.

He smiled warmly. "I suppose I can allow it." He forced his voice to be steady and calm, despite the desire screaming inside of him--begging him to take you well and properly.

You sunk to your knees, gaze lifting to meet his. You gave him a shy smile before taking his cock in your soft hands. He was larger than average, but you weren't afraid of the pain. Instead, you focused on giving him the same intense pleasure he had given you.

When you wrapped your lips around his cock, his head fell back and a groan escaped his parted lips. His fingers danced across your scalp, gathering your hair to one side so he could see you properly.

"Shit, sweetheart," he mumbled. "You're taking me so well."

You moaned around him, pleased with the praise he offered you. You continued to work him, using your tongue to caress and tease him in ways he'd never experienced before.

He wasn't at all surprised by your skill, but he was surprised by how damn good it felt. Sure, it had been a while for him, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a blow job that made his knees weak--if ever.

"Shit, baby," he whispered. "I'm so close--gonna cum for you."

His fingers raked through your wet hair and he used his other hand to lean against the tiles behind you. His hips jutted forward slightly as you relaxed your throat, taking him as far back as you could.

You flattened your tongue against his cock and flexed it, repeating the motion a few times before Dean's grip on your hair became painful and he exploded into your throat with a cry of your name.

You swallowed everything he had to give you, not releasing him from your lips until he pulled away, forcing the two of you to separate.

Dean leaned back against the shower wall and pulled you towards him, trying to support his weak legs while also helping you up. Once you were on your feet, he tugged you into him and placed a feverish kiss to your lips.

He panted heavily when he finally released you from his tight grip, allowing you to suck in some much needed air.

"Where did you learn how to do that thing with your tongue?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

You smirked. "It's a natural talent."

He grinned. "Well I fucking love it."

You laughed and leaned back into him, capturing his lips in a sweeter kiss. "So what are your thoughts on continuing this elsewhere?"

"Well my plan was to make you moan my name for the next several hours...I don't care where we go, as long as you're willing to let me ruin you."

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily and you moaned softly, biting into your bottom lip to keep the sound from being too loud. "My room?"

"My room is closer," he murmured into your shoulder.

You smiled and backed away from him, causing him to pout. You turned the water off and continued to back out of the shower. You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around yourself, which only served to upset Dean.

"What do you think you're doing?" he growled.

Your eyes widened. "Putting on a towel so we can go to your room..."

"Did I say you could hide your body from me?" His tone was shockingly dominant and a spark of need went straight to your core.

"No," you whispered.

"I didn't think so." He stepped forward, dominance oozing from every pore in his body. "Drop the towel. Now."

You gasped softly, but heeded his command. The towel fell to the floor and he took yet another predatory step in your direction.

"Don't you ever hide yourself from me again. I wanna see every inch of your body." His hands grabbed at your hips roughly, tugging you towards him forcefully. "You're mine, do you understand me? Mine."

While the idea of someone owning you would normally piss you off, in this context it was a shocking turn-on. You swallowed thickly as you stared up into his heated gaze, suddenly unable to move, or even breathe.

He leaned down to kiss along your jaw towards your ear. He breathed slowly against your skin, causing you to shiver and clutch his arms for support. "Is this okay?" he whispered, voice still gruff, but much more loving.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to form actual words.

"Baby, I need you to tell me with your words. I need you to say whether this is okay or not. I don't wanna do something you're not into."

You turned your head a little so you could see his bright green eyes. The look in his eyes was reflected in your own and there was no doubt or fear in your voice when you answered him. "I'm very into it."

Your reassurance was all he needed to fall back into the dominant role. "Then you'd better get your ass into my bed before we have a problem."

You turned to open the door, yelping slightly when his hand smacked your ass. You shot him a surprised look and he looked slightly sheepish.

"Sorry, baby...I couldn't resist. You've got a great ass."

You smirked at the compliment and gave him a little wiggle before rushing into the hallway and making a beeline for his bedroom door.

He was surprised by your teasing action, but it only made him smile. He chased after you, mumbling, "Oh you're in for it now, princess."

You giggled as you landed on his bed, crawling up towards the headboard as he came through the doorway. He shut the door behind him and stalked to the edge of the bed, fiery gaze locked on you.

"It's unfair how sexy you look right now," he growled. "Makes me wanna fuck you senseless--make you scream my name until your voice is hoarse."

You gulped, trying to hide behind false bravado. "Are you going to do that from the other side of the room?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be a brat."

"Why don't you come here and do something about it."

Dean practically jumped onto the bed, climbing on top of you and caging you beneath him in seconds. His cock was hard again, pressing against your thigh--a reminder of how badly he wanted you.

"Not so mouthy now are you?"

"Dean, I--"

"Hush," he murmured as he leaned down to kiss you. He shifted just enough so his cock brushed against your core, and you gasped into his mouth.

"How badly do you want me right now, (Y/N)?" he asked, voice rough with need.

"I've never wanted you more," you answered honestly.

He groaned lowly. "How do you want it? You want me to fuck you into this mattress or take it nice and slow?"

"Fuck me into the mattress," you begged softly. "Please."

"Jesus--I love when you beg for me," he growled.

"Fuck me, Dean," you pleaded. You weren't above begging, especially when it came to him.

Dean gripped his cock in his right hand and lined himself up with your entrance. He started to push in, trying to move slowly to avoid hurting you as much. "You're so fucking tight, baby," he whispered against your lips.

You gripped his biceps harshly, nails digging into his skin. The stretch was unbelievable, both painful and pleasurable all at once.

"You okay?" he whispered softly.

You nodded.

"Babe," he said in a warning tone.

"I'm okay--keep going."

He continued to push into you and your back arched as his cock brushed against your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling of fullness, and Dean struggled to remain motionless until you told him it was okay to move.

"I need you to move, Dean--please."

He pulled himself up slightly and started a very gentle pace, still allowing you time to adjust. The last thing he wanted was to make this painful or uncomfortable for you. He didn't give a damn about his enjoyment--all he wanted was to watch you fall apart over and over again.

"Your pussy feels incredible, baby," he groaned. "I could stay here forever."

He began to move more quickly and your breathing became more erratic as you reveled in the pleasure of the moment. Your moans were like music to his ears, spurring him on as he slid into you again.

"I love the sounds you're making, sweetheart. I wanna hear you."

He picked up his pace and shifted you into a new position so he could get even deeper inside you. You cried out as he hit your g-spot, pussy clamping down on his cock in response.

"Shit--" he groaned. "You're squeezing me so tight--taking my cock so fucking well, gorgeous."

Your back arched again and your head was tossed back, pressing into the pillows at the head of the bed. Your hands twisted in the sheets, unable to reach his arms or his back as he slammed into you repeatedly.

He knew you were close, but he wasn't ready to feel you cum yet. "Look at me, baby."

He waited until your hazy eyes met his.

"Don't cum until I tell you to, understand?"

Your eyes widened. "But, Dean--"

"Not until I give you permission," he said firmly.

You nodded rapidly, not wanting to risk your orgasm altogether.

"Good girl."

You moaned loudly and your pussy clenched tightly around his cock, causing him to echo the sound.

"Fuck, baby," he groaned. "You like it when I praise you, huh? You wanna hear about how much I love this pussy? How I've been thinking about fucking you for years? How I've craved your body?"

You were practically breathless beneath him, unable to formulate a response or even acknowledge his words.

"Your pussy is fucking perfect," he continued. "Made for me. And this body? Gorgeous and soft and fucking delicious. Can't believe I get to touch you like this--make you feel so good."

"Dean, please," you begged breathlessly.

"Not yet, sweetheart."

You whimpered, but continued to focus on staving off your impending orgasm.

"Who owns this pussy, baby?"

You didn't answer--too focused on not cumming until he gave you permission.

His grip on your legs tightened, bringing your attention back to him. "That's it, pretty girl, look at me. Tell me who owns this pussy."

"You," you gasped out.

"That's right. This pussy is mine. I'm the only one who gets to touch you like this--make you moan and whimper and scream. No one else."

"Only you," you cried.

"Fuck--" His breathing had become ragged and he had begun to struggle to keep himself from orgasming.

"Please," you whimpered.

"Please what, baby?"

"Let me cum!" you begged.

Dean decided to take pity on you. "Cum for me, baby."

"Dean!" you screamed as your orgasm ripped through you. The pleasure so white hot and blinding you nearly blacked out.

Dean helped you ride out the waves of pleasure before lowering himself back down to hover over you. He placed soft kisses to your heated skin and whispered, "You're so damn beautiful when you cum."

You were gulping down mouthfuls of air, but you heard his whispered words. "I love you," you murmured.

He groaned softly. "Love you more."

He picked his pace back up, intent on giving you another orgasm before allowing himself to cum.

It didn't take long for him to work you back up, letting you hang on the precipice of blissful pleasure once more.

"You feel so good beneath me, baby. I love watching your pretty face as you fall apart. I just can't get enough of you," he admitted.

Your nails dug into his back, indicating you also couldn't get enough of him. "Dean, I need more," you pleaded.

"Touch yourself for me, baby. I want you to cum before I fill you up."

You lowered your hand down and slipped it between your bodies. You found your clit with ease and began to gently toy with it, sending pulses of toe curling pleasure up your spine.

"Fuck, yes. That's it baby. God, this pussy is addicting...don't ever wanna stop."

"So close," you whimpered.

"Yeah, sweetheart? You wanna cum?"

"Please, Dean."

"How badly?"

"Dean," you whined.

"Be a good girl and tell me how badly you wanna cum for me and maybe I'll let you."

"Please-please-please," you begged. "I wanna cum so bad. I need to cum, Dean, please!"

As much as he loved prolonging your orgasm, he couldn't bear saying no to you. "Cum for me, sweetness," he whispered into your ear.

Your body began to shake as the dam broke once again. You cried out as the pleasure invaded all of your senses, overwhelming you completely.

Dean began to chase his own high, desperately needing to fill you up with his seed. "You're the only woman who makes me lose control," he whispered into your skin.

You were surprised by his words, but they warmed your heart. Dean wasn't the kind of man to lose control often, so the fact that you made him do so was a massive ego boost.

"I wanna feel you fill me up, Dean," you murmured. "Need your cum inside me."

"Fuck," he growled, teeth grazing your pulse point.

His hips began to stutter as he reached his peak. Your nails scraped along his back, giving him the last push he needed to fall over the edge. He came with a guttural growl of your name, ropes of hot cum filling your pussy.

His arms started to feel weak as his orgasm came to an end, and he collapsed on top of you, crushing you beneath his larger frame. You couldn't have been bothered to care if he'd literally smothered you--you were too fucked out to form coherent thoughts.

After a while, Dean managed to pull himself off of you, only to collapse on the bed beside you. He reached for you, strong arms wrapping around your waist to tug you into his chest.

"You're so damn incredible, (Y/N/N)," he whispered into your shoulder, lips pressing soft kisses there. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard--and you managed to do it twice."

"I can't feel my legs and my head is fuzzy," you mumbled. "So I second all of that."

Dean chuckled softly and held you even tighter. "I love you," he murmured. "More than you'll ever know."

"I think I have some idea," you whispered back. "And I love you just as much."

Dean smiled, feeling truly happy for the first time in as long as he could remember. He knew he should get up, help you clean up and all that, but he couldn't get himself to move and you weren't complaining. In fact, your breathing had evened out and he had a feeling you'd be asleep soon.

He kissed your shoulder one more time before resting his head comfortably on the pillow, feeling more relaxed than he had in a while. Just as sleep threatened to claim him, he heard his brother's voice from the other side of the closed door.

"While I'm super happy for you both, I have one request. Next time the two of you decide to fuck each other's brains out, could you at least have the decency to wait until I'm gone? I can't un-hear any of that!"

You laughed lightly and you could feel Dean's laughter rumbling in his chest from behind you.

"We'll do our best," Dean called back. "But no promises! She's simply too hot to resist--you never know when I'll get the urge to ravish her."

You laughed even harder, but you reached behind you to lovingly smack his hip.

"Ohh gross, dude!" Sam grumbled before walking away, leaving the two of you alone again.

"You're so bad, Dean Winchester."

"I didn't hear you complaining when I was making your legs shake ten minutes ago."

You tossed him a grin over your shoulder. "I didn't say it was a bad thing."

He matched your grin. "Touché, my love. Touché."

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #supernatural #supernatural smut #dean winchester x plus size!reader smut #dean winchester x plus size reader

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mystra-midnight · 10 months

Text

Language of Lust

summary: a botched hunt means that you need a refresher in latin thankfully sam is there to help.

warnings: mentions of a panic attack. forced orgasm. multiple orgasms. overstimulation. anal sex. unprotected sex. squirting. creampie.

words: 3.2k

notes: so a while ago i saw a post about being dommed in another language. and honestly it unlocked a kink i never knew i had. that post spawned this idea. please ignore the latin translations if they aren’t correct as i used google to translate. :)

In the days following the botched demon hunt, the atmosphere within the base had become tense, and that meant the three of you had been at each other's throats. It hadn’t mattered how many times you’d apologized or promised to do better next time, how much pie you’d bought for Dean, or that you’d cooked Sam's favorite meal twice; nothing had fixed it.

In truth, you all needed some space.

You most of all.

That panic attack came out of nowhere and left you completely shaken. Even a week later, you were hyperfocused on the details of it—the way the walls of the room had shuddered and groaned as you spoke the ritual words, making dust and old cobwebs fall around you. When you thought about it, your heart would race so fast and slam against your breastbone so hard that you could have sworn it started to crack.

The ringing in your ears had been a deafening crescendo, and your eyes had been a waterfall of tears even when Sam had knelt in front of you and pulled you into his chest. You remembered the sound of his voice and the beating of his heart as he whispered to you soothingly until the tears finally stopped.

You still didn't remember much about what had actually happened, but you knew that the demon had gotten away, and you knew that Dean was pissed and Sam was disappointed. Neither of them needed to say it out loud.

So for the past few days, you've busied yourself with whatever task you could find to take your mind off the entire situation. Dean had very much done the same; you hadn’t seen him since this morning, when he’d come back to grab a few things and then left again.

You knew that Sam was somewhere in the base; you’d seen him in passing a few times, but the two of you hadn’t spoken more than a few words to each other.

Normally, that would have upset you. You hated fighting with the boys, but you were feeling better and in a relatively good mood today.

You sigh as you step into the kitchen after showering to wash the sweat and anxiety from your skin. Your hair is still damp, and you're dressed in one of Dean's old shirts and a tight pair of bicycle shorts. Sam entered soon after, dressed just as casually. He looked entirely undisturbed by the events of the past few days.

"Hey," you say in passing, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey yourself," he answers with a smile. For a moment, there was silence between you, but even that was short-lived. "You got the words wrong, you know," Sam says, leaning a hip against the door frame while he stares at you with arms crossed. He didn't sound angry, but it wasn't like he needed to say it; you knew you'd gotten them wrong.

Your head snaps around to stare at him, eyes narrowing at the fucking audacity he spoke with. Was that really what he wanted to say? "Yeah," you answer, your expression souring and your mouth in a tight-lipped scowl. "I figured that out from the silent treatment." You shrug your shoulders, trying not to let the hurt bleed into your voice as you turn away and busy yourself straightening a piece of paper on the table.

"Silent treatment?" He asks, pushing off the wall to come towards you. "No one is giving you the silent treatment."

"Sure you’re not," you scoff in response.

"We’re not."

"Then where is Dean? He’s running off doing his own thing because he’s pissed off at me for ruining the hunt, and it’s been two days since you said this much to me, Sam." You huff, clearly annoyed, as you cross your arms and glare at him. "No one learns from the silent treatment, Sam. Sure, I messed up. I know I did, and I’ll learn from that. The two of you don’t need to be assholes about it. But whatever, live and let live."

He walks briskly towards you, and you step back, not in fear but because the raw emotions in his eyes stun you—lust and dominance mingling beautifully in the depths of his iridescent orbs. Sam doesn't stop when you back away; instead, he walks until the small of your back is pressed against the edge of the table, and then he cages you between his arms, palms pressed flat against the table top.

"S - Sam?" You stutter when his lips pull into a smooth smirk. One of his hands grabs you by the hip, his fingertips biting into your skin just a little bit too much, and he pulls you against him, painting his body firmly against yours.

And then he’s kissing you, and you kiss him, and whatever anger was on your tongue dies.

Sam does not waste time and pushes his hand into your bicycle shorts, the material so tight that it fits you like a second skin. He wants desperately to rip it down your legs and feast on your pussy, but he shows remarkable restraint.

"If you wanted more lessons," he says between heated kisses that muffle your little gasps when he starts to rub his fingers against your clit. "You just needed to ask, sweetheart." His other hand grasps your jaw hard with his thumb and forefinger, pushing into your cheeks so that you were pouting when he kissed you again, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You have the notion to argue with him but are silenced when he pushes a finger through your folds, which are slick with desire and anticipation. You grab at his arm when he prods your entrance, making your knees weak. "Sam, I—" you start but are silenced by the stare in his eyes.

"In Latin."

"Sam?"

"In Latin." He says it again, this time with more force, his words accompanied by a second finger being pushed into your tight hole, drawing a wanton moan from your lips. You’re not sure where this behaviour is coming from. Sam had never so much as hinted at liking you, but in truth, you weren’t one to complain—not when he was knuckles deep in your cunt.

Your fingers curl tightly around the edge of the table, nails scratching at the underside, knuckles white under the pressure. You tilt your head back beneath his wandering mouth, enjoying the warmth of his body hovering over yours and how he pulls your shirt up to expose your tits.

Sam trails hot, wet kisses down your neck, his teeth scraping over your racing pulse. He sucks a hickey on your collarbone until a purple-blue bruise forms beneath his lips. The entire time he’s pumping his fingers into your cunt. Lewd, wet squelching fills the room because you’re that fucking wet.

He forces your legs further apart with his knee so that you're perched on the edge of the table, feet dangling in the air. His mouth moves to your chest, his lips closing around your nipple and sucking hard so that it pops from his mouth with an obscene sound and stands hard atop your tit. And then he takes the other one into his mouth, flicking and twirling his tongue so that you had to fist a hand in his hair.

He whispers something that you can’t make out. His mouth is like fire on your skin, leaving little flames of arousal licking through your veins. And then his fingers hit that spongy part of your pussy that has you hurtling towards a climax instead of slowly building to it.

You can’t help the way your nails dig into his shoulders when you cling to him when your thighs tremble. You cling to him when the storm comes out of nowhere, sweeping you away on a cloud of bliss that has you throwing your head back. He feels your walls tighten around his fingers, fresh waves of arousal against the tips, and then he’s kissing you again, rubbing his thumb in circles around your clit to keep the aftershocks of climax trembling through you.

His mouth is hot, stealing the air from your lungs until they are burning, but you don’t mind because you're still coming down from your high.

The next thing you know, it’s been an hour, and Sam has managed to make you cum three more times, twice with his fingers buried knuckle deep in your pussy, scissoring them to send you teetering over the edge of oblivion. And then once more, with his mouth on your pussy, lips encircling around your clit and sucking so hard that all you could do was repeat his name like a heaven’s prayer.

You’re done, but he wasn’t, not by a long shot.

Sam spread you out on your back, laying you out like a feast, your skin flushed and tits heaving with heavy breaths. You feel the rough pad of his thumb rubbing circles around your clit, which is slightly swollen and much too sensitive, and you claw at his wrist to push him away. Sam just smiles at you and pins both your wrists to the mattress with one of his large hands.

"It’s too much," you whine, trying to pull away and wiggle your hips away from his fingers, but you’re trapped. And you love it as much as you hate it. Sam growls softly between his teeth, his thumb prodding through your slick folds and getting nice and wet before drifting lower to push against your asshole. Your breath hitches at the sensation, and your mind spins as he pushes his thumb inside, giving a few shallow thrusts to tease you.

"Hic tam arctus es, infans," he says, his voice heavy with lust and muffled against your heaving tits. His breath is hot against your skin, his teeth scrape over your racing heartbeat, and his tongue leaves your skin inflamed and glistening. There is a knot twisting through your belly, slowly pulling tighter as his thumb pushes in and out of your tight hole.

"Ubi vis me?" His words are lost in the haze of euphoria he’s trapped you in, as meaningless as the world around you has become. You were a slave to the sensations he embodied, desperately moving your hips to take him deeper. "Hic?"

"Sam," you whine, your voice straining as you struggle in his grasp. You need him; you need to feel your pussy stretching around his big, hard cock. You need to feel him buried inside you, fucking you into oblivion.

"Hic?" He says it again, twisting his thumb in a way that has you throwing your head back and bucking your hips desperately. You can feel him smiling against your tit as he mouths it, his teeth tugging at your nipple until your back arches.

Your breath comes quicker, little pants, when he pulls his thumb from your clenching asshole, the feeling exquisite and leaving you desperate for more despite the live wires of overstimulation snaking through your veins. Sam lets go of your wrists long enough to pull one of your legs up, laying the back of your thigh up his torso so that your knee is bent over his shoulder, and then he shackles them again, trapping you beneath him.

You move restlessly when you feel his thumb against your asshole again, except this time it's not his thumb, and your eyes go wide, a whimper falling from your parted lips. You weren’t a virgin, not at all, but this would be the first time you’d ever taken something so big in your ass.

There was no mistaking that Sam Winchester was a behemoth of a man. He’s tall, broad-shouldered, and strong—Hercules reborn. Everything about him is big. His hands, his feet, his thighs, and his cock. Everything about him is solid, cut from marble; he is beautiful. His cock makes your asshole sting beautifully as he pushes the mushroom head in.

Inch by glorious inch, he pushed forward, the prominent vein on the underside of his cock dragging along your stretched hole. "Jesus, tam stricta es," he breathes against your neck, but you still don’t understand. He’s slow, letting you get used to the feeling of his cock splitting you open with short, shallow thrusts, making you moan wantonly.

He loves the little things that you do, the simple things; the pleasure that sears through him as he stretches your tightest hole; the way you’re moaning like a whore, rocking your hips desperately against his, grinding against him. He starts moving with more urgency, drawing back so that only the head of his cock is fitted snugly inside, and then he’s thrusting back in with one stroke, hitting deep, leaving you throwing your head from side to side.

Your thighs quiver, and your toes curl. Sam fucks into you at a merciless pace, stretching you out and filling you completely, and the feeling of it is beyond words. It is beautiful and exquisite—pure euphoric bliss. It makes your pussy creamy with desire, so much so that your slick drips down your crack to mingle with his thrusts. That knot in your belly pulls tighter while your clit throbs and the muscles in your thighs ache. Your lungs burn because of how you’re panting, unable to catch your breath.

His fingers tighten around your wrists when you almost buck out of his grasp, the tips of them biting into your skin so that you can feel bruises starting to form, but you don’t care. You’re so close, so fucking close. His mouth is on your neck, his teeth scraping over your racing pulse, his lips leaving hickeys behind, and his tongue leaving your skin hot and wet.

You can feel the pressure building. Your pussy is clenching desperately around nothing, and you can feel your pulse beating in your toes, your clit, even in your fingertips—you’re that close to breaking. It feels so fucking good, but you’re fighting it because the pleasure is starting to border on pain and overstimulation.

And you’re lost in it, trapped as you are beneath him.

You crave that sweet release, the way fire will race through your blood, and the way your world will be scored with lightning. You need it as much as you need to breathe, but every part of you is alive. You can hear the blood rushing behind your ears; hear the beating of your heart as it slams into your breastbone; your eyes rolling back every time his hips snap forward, pushing every inch of him deep inside you.

"Venire," he growls against your neck, his breath literally burning against your sweat-slicked skin. You don’t know what he says, but the lust in his voice and the feral look in his eyes pull that coil painfully tight. You’re breaking—he’s breaking you. He’s got you on the verge of being fucked stupid, sobbing because of him and how good it feels, but he wants more from you.

"Sam! Sam, please, please," you plead, throwing your head from side to side, desperately trying to tug your hands free. You arch your back when he hits a spot that has dots decorating your vision, your tits thrusting into the air. You can’t figure out what you’re asking for. For him to stop or for him to keep going, it’s a blur.

Every movement of his hips has that knot pulling tighter—so tight that you might die. Your pussy is twitching, clenching around nothing, and you’re so wet that it’s shining on his skin every time he bottoms out.

"Venire," he says again, this time against your ear. Your pleasure-addled brain, so drugged with pleasurable pain and desperate for the release he’s forcing from you, only comprehends what he's saying when two of his fingers are shoved through your slick folds and into your clenching hole, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles.

You struggle to close your thighs, tears streaming down your face, tits bouncing as he fucks you harder. His cock is stretching your ass beyond belief while his fingers ram into that spongy spot that has your vision decorated with stars. "I - I - I - can’t!" You manage to stutter out, hips bucking against his, your pussy clenching so tight around his fingers.

Except you can because that dam breaks with so much pressure that you scream. It feels like lightning has hit your body, sizzling through your veins until you’re thrashing beneath him, your thighs quivering violently, and your toes curled so much that it hurts. Sam doesn’t stop, not even when your ass tightens around his cock to the point of pain. He just presses his thumb against your clit, circling, rubbing, and making you scream for him.

You feel a gush between your thighs, your pussy convulsing around his fingers as you cum in a fountain spray. Sam curls his fingers into your g-spot, scissors them, and pulls them from you to draw out as much cum as possible. If you had any brains left, you might have been embarrassed by the way you came, squirting so hard that it hits his abdomen and drips from the nest of curls at the base of his shaft, how it drenches your thighs and pools on the mattress beneath you.

But you’re gone, lost, and fucked dumb, only able to grunt as he keeps fucking you.

"Tam pulchra, infans, tam formosa, tam mihi dura venit." His own voice is trembling, and his balls draw closer to his body as the muscles in his abdomen tighten. He buries himself deep so that your ass is full and your pussy tingles. And you feel it as he grunts against your neck—feel the white-hot ribbons of cum filling your ass.

Sam keeps thrusting until you've milked him dry, and then he pulls out, drawing a pathetic, desperate moan from your lips because of the sensation. Having let go of your wrists, he sits back on his haunches. You lay there, your thighs still trembling, your mind lost. Sam watches the way your pretty pussy twitches and the way your ass puckers, and his sticky cum drips from it in fat globs.

"What do pretty girls say after being filled with cum?" He asks, his voice soft, his fingers pushing his cum back into your stretched-out ass so that you were whimpering and shaking again. You manage to peel your eyes open to stare at him, tears in them, your chest heaving as he shoves two long fingers into your asshole.

He speaks English this time so that you understand, but you are still slow to react, straining to close your thighs. He kisses you without warning, his tongue in your mouth, licking yours until you're clawing at his shoulders to keep him there, desperate for his kiss.

"Gratias tibi." You managed with a weary smile, and that was enough for him for the moment.

the translations ::

Hic tam arctus es, infans. - You’re so tight here, baby.

Ubi vis me? - Where do you want me?

Hic? - Here?

Jesus, tam stricta es. - Jesus, you’re so tight.

Venire - Come/cum.

Tam pulchra, infans, tam formosa, tam mihi dura venit. - So pretty, baby, so beautiful, coming so hard for me.

Gratias tibi - Thank you.

#sam winchester #sam winchester smut #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester one shot #sam winchester imagine #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x you #supernatural

806 notes · View notes

topofmythighs · 6 months

Note

demon dean smut 👀👀👀

speaking in tongue

demon!dean winchester x she/her reader

rundown: it's gettin' hawt in here!!! demon!dean fucks his gf and that's basically it

word count: 3k

warnings: where do we start? corruption!kink, sub x dom themes, oral, p in v pen., master!kink, cnc???, pain!kink, breeding!kink,

navigating the depths of her relationship with dean has always been difficult; he is the definition of closed off. working through typical relationship issues is easy for the two of them, but it’s the most profound secrets that dean keeps locked away even from sam that drive them apart. still, even with the disagreements and frequent pleas for dean to let her into his mind, she stays, because she promised she would.

it’s difficult, though, to not poke and prod at the mind of her lover as he shifts from mortal to demon.

dean’s more violent — hedonistic, even — but he’s almost more open than her true lover is. as the two of them sit across from each other at the bunker’s table, drinks in hand, she can’t help but purse her lips at the thought of asking more.

“go ahead, sweetheart,” dean smirks.

she sighs as she stares into her drink, nervous to look up and see the green eyes of her lover replaced with depthless, soulless black ones. she wishes sam was here — she knows he would want to ask questions, too — but he had to flea the bunker with castiel. (he begrudgingly left her there, but with dean’s lack of plans to harm her, sam trusted that she would call him if something went wrong.)

“it’s hard to not pick your brain,” she finally says, looking up slowly at dean.

he smirks, taking a swig of his drink. “i’m an open book.”

“yeah, but, he’s not.” she sighs, also taking a drink of her whiskey. “i just - i want to know what he thinks of me. i need to know. i know he loves me — we’ve been together for what feels like forever — but he’s just so shut-out and--“

“and don’t you think it’s time you know what he thinks of you, sweetheart?” dean asks, looking at her with a quizzed look so human that she almost believes she’s talking to dean. within an instant, he’s at her side, leaning against the table. his warm, calloused hand, the same as dean's, cups her jaw, forcing her to look up at him. she swallows thickly as her blood freezes up in her body. “you know he loves you, sweetheart. i’ve always been here — watching, waiting to come out and talk to you. to tell you what he thinks of you, how he feels about you.”

“do i want to know?” she whispers, feeling the grip on her jaw tighten.

she’s scared and flustered. her mind is swirling, trying to wrap around itself that this is not dean in any other way than physically. he lets her jaw go with a quick jerk, crouching down in front of her.

“he thinks about you all the time. touching you, fucking you,” he purrs. he watches the blush rise on her face, and just to be an asshole, he tacks on, “it’s gross, to be honest.”

“keep it in your pants,” she mutters, glaring at him and drinking down her whiskey.

he spins her chair to face him. sitting down on his knees, he places his hands on hers, gripping hard.

“ow,” she winces. “please,” she says, “please take your hands off of me.”

“ah, ah, ah. what you aren’t getting, sweetheart,” he says coldly, “is that even if you hate me, you love him.” he pushes himself up off of the ground and leans in close to her. “and right now, we are one.”

she stares into his eyes and shakily puts her hands on his cheeks as his hands grip tight on the arms of the chair. “baby,” she whispers, pleading. “if you can hear me, please know i’m here.”

“he knows, sweetheart,” dean whispers. “he can hear you. we can hear you.” dean looks into her eyes, smiling pridefully at her.

she takes a deep breath in, looking one last time into his green eyes, before guiding his lips to hers. she kisses him deeply, trying to feel dean amidst the demon.

“not so fast,” dean says. his ultimate speed has their positions flipped within seconds. she sits on his lap, hands still on his cheeks. “if we’re doing this, and trust me, we want this,” he purrs, “you need to understand that you don’t control me.” she nods quickly, frightened to do anything he doesn’t want her to. “but just because i’m some cold-blooded killer that has it out for every mortal around him,” he chuckles, “doesn’t mean i’m gonna hurt you, sweetheart. i don't want no angels or hunters after me. i don’t have a death wish.”

“they couldn’t stop you anyway,” she whispers, feeling herself relax into his hands that are tight on her hips.

he smiles at her. “that’s my girl.”

his hands find her hair quickly, pulling her down into a deep kiss. her arms wrap around his neck as her body slowly sinks down onto his. she’s still unsure if her heart has stopped beating, but she feels his hand find her lower back and gently press her body down more.

“you’re okay, sweetheart,” dean murmers, and she swears that was really him. her legs finally relax and settle themselves on either side of his thigh, feeling the denim-to-denim contact. her arms tighten around him, and her lips find his neck where she places small kisses up and down it.

testing the waters, she grabs a fistful of dean’s hair at the back of his neck as she kisses it, and she feels his hips buck up to hers.

“god,” dean whispers. “don’t make me feel like some desperate teenager here, baby girl.”

she smiles as she continues to kiss. she gently grinds her hips down against his thigh, staying very close to his body and keeping her movements slow. “don’t mean to,” she whispers back. “just trying to enjoy all of you.”

"we've got time, baby," he purrs, his hands roaming her thighs. he tilts his head back, savouring the wet, open-mouthed kisses that she continues to leave all over his throat.

the grip his hands have on her thighs leaves a searing pain behind, so she pushes herself away from his delicious skin to peek and see if the denim of her jeans has been burned away. she grabs his shoulders to steady herself, wincing as he squeezes harder.

she stares at her thighs, expecting burning flesh to be escaping the denim, but there's nothing there.

"ow," she whines, eyes meeting the demon's soulless black ones.

he smirks at her, peeling his hands off her thighs. "feel that?"

"yeah, it hurts like hell," she mumbles.

her jaw is grabbed once again by the familiar calloused hand, and her mouth hangs open slightly.

"i didn't ask for the attitude, sweetheart," dean snarls. "all that pain? means your little boyfriend is here, feeling all of this and watching us like a pervert in a movie theatre."

his eyes melt green again, and the combination of a mention of a mortal dean mixed with his luscious green eyes allows her body to fall slack. she drops back down onto dean's thighs and drools, coating his hand in spit. he smiles slyly at her, pulling his hand off her face before leaving a hard, aggressive slap to her cheek. he places his thumb in her still-open mouth and forces her face back to his. her mouth instinctively closes around his thumb.

"my good girl," he says, a hand finding her waist.

she smiles around his thumb, her cheek wet from her own spit being slapped onto it. she very slowly leans forward until her head rests on dean's shoulder and gently grabs hold of dean's wrist. she rests against him for a moment, feeling the pulse of his cock against her core every time she sucks on his thumb (she swears her heartbeat matches the rhythm of his dick.). her body goes slack, recovering from the pain in her thighs and on her face.

if she was in any other state of mind, she would be the utmost apprehensive woman in the world. if dean truly is watching, she has no doubt in her mind that he will condemn her for feeling safe in the arms of a demon. but as she lays here with her head on his shoulder and his protective arm around her, she wonders if there's some form of loneliness that drives a demon's anarchy.

she sits up, tired of thinking. she gently pulls his thumb out of her mouth, then presses a kiss to his lips. her shakey fingers unbutton his red shirt, and she feels a surge of wetness overtake her when she feels how incredibly hot dean's skin is.

dean can't help but admire her. he watches her as she licks her lips, and he feels his shirt coming undone. her eyes are huge and innocent, glistening like she's experiencing this for the first time. he knows she's focusing too much on the heat of his skin, overthinking about how close dean of the subconscious is watching, so he guides her hands to the tent in his jeans.

"we want you, sweetheart," he purrs, his hand looming over hers.

"take me," she whispers, so quiet that even with exaggerated senses, dean can barely hear her.

his inhumane speed brings her up onto the table with her jeans pulled off her legs. he smirks at her soaked thong - once a baby pink turned a deep rose from the amount of wetness her body has made. he pulls her to the edge of the table, kneeling down on the floor to press kisses to her thighs.

her hands try to push his head away. "no, please! he hasn't - it's been too long! i don't want you there, i want him."

dean smiles up at her from in between her thighs. "he's always here, babygirl."

he pulls her underwear to the side, immediately licking up all of the slick that her warm pussy made. she releases a loud, pornstar moan, her hands finding dean's hair quickly. he kisses her pussy, and she swears she can hear him growling from in between her thighs. she moans louder, hoping his dick throbs harder.

it must have, because his mouth finds her clit and sucks hard, eliciting a long, loud whine from her spit-covered lips. her hands are tight in his hair, the tension in her body having nowhere to escape but her hands. dean continues to lick and suck at her clit, making her whine and moan like she's never been touched before.

"need, need you," she groans, feeling dean's fingers dig deep into her thighs.

he comes up for air, pressing kisses anywhere he can. she swears she feels her dean here with her.

"need me?" dean whispers, his eyes staring into hers. she moans at his deep voice, swearing it rumbles through her. her head tilts back, and, within mere seconds, her body bounces off of dean's soft, memory foam mattress. she hears her breath catch in her throat, to which he smirks. "too fast for you, sweetheart?"

she shakes her head quickly as her hands find his belt and button. "like it," she mutters, her thoughts flowing too quickly to focus on anything but touching dean's cock.

when it sits in the palm of her hand, hard and hot, she whines and feels a gush of wetness fall over the tops of her thighs. she immediately tries to position his cock against her entrance, but he grabs her wrist.

"one thing about us, sweetheart," dean says, "is nothing turns us on more than watching those angel eyes suck cock." he smirks at her as she nods feverishly.

he flips their positions, allowing himself to sit against the headboard while she lays in between his thighs. her ass is high in the air as she wraps her hand around his cock again, licking up his long, veiny cock. he grabs her hair immediately, allowing her brain to turn off and her mouth to be used.

"pretty girl," dean mumbles, moaning as he face fucks her. her eyes are glazed over when she looks up at him, and she moans around his cock as those beautiful, green eyes watch her suck his cock. he holds her head down, her nose just an inch away from his pelvis. she gags, and usually dean would let up, but this time, he holds her head still.

she moves her hands up his thighs, digging her nails into them, letting him know it's too much. he doesn't let up until she draws blood just one gag later.

"bitch," he mutters, as he pulls her up by her hair. he watches his doll catch her breath, a long line of spit keeping her mouth connected to his cock. her eyes are watery, and a few tears have slipped down her face. small traces of makeup are smeared over her face.

their eyes meet, and his black, soulless ones switch back to his crystal clear, serpentine green eyes. he immediately pulls her onto him, his large protective hands rubbing her back. "i'm sorry, angel," he mutters.

she pulls herself up, and her legs straddle his hips. she keeps herself close to him as he kisses her head. his kisses lead onto her face, eliciting a small, fucked-out smile from her.

"it's okay, master," she whispers, peeling his hands from her face and pressing kisses onto his wrists, desperate to feel the human in him. as she does, he rubs his cock over her wet pussy, making her whine and hide her face in his hand.

she grabs his hand and tangles their fingers together, pushing herself up onto her knees to sink down onto his cock. she watches her boyfriend's face fall into the expression it always does when she takes it all; his mouth open, eyes closed, and his chest tight with air.

"i'll always let you do whatever you want to me, sir," she says, rocking her hips back and forth on his dick.

he smacks her ass, and a deep burning sensation flows through her veins. she knows her dean is gone again, taken over by the demon yet again.

"good girl," he says, watching her intently. he watches exactly where their bodies connect.

whether it's the demon's energy coursing through her boyfriend's body or the fact that she hasn't been fucked this hard in a few months, she finds it hard to take all of dean's cock. still, she does her best, feeling electricity course through her pussy whenever she sinks down all the way. she knows from the burning that dean is there. trapped in his mind, but he's there.

knowing he's there brings her an odd source of comfort. she wants to put on a show for him, and she wants to stay on this demon's good side. she hopes that he can feel everything the way she is. she rocks her hips again, feeling dean's fat cock hit her g-spot. she lets out a very loud moan, squeezing dean's hand harder as she rides.

dean groans, too. "fuck, babygirl," he mutters. "so fucking wet."

she caresses his face with her free hand, stilling her hips. "sir?" she asks quietly.

he smirks at her shyness, bucking his hips up into her. "yes, sweetheart?"

she squeezes his hand again, and to her surprise, he squeezes back. her hands feel like she's touching a hot stove. she blushes, knowing dean's right there. "make me squirt?"

his eyes roll back as he groans, and his lightning speed flips them into doggy quickly. he places her head into the pillows and grabs her hips, fucking her soaking wet pussy hard and fast.

"sir, sir, fuck!" she screams, feeling her hips burn where his fingertips squeeze. "i need," she moans. "need your cum."

"fuck, sweetheart," dean says, slowing down his speed a bit. he chuckles. "your boyfriend in here does not want me to do that."

her laboured breathing makes her choke out, "since when did you care?"

he laughs again. "you're a dirty whore. i like it."

she smiles into the pillows and wiggles her ass, begging for him to fuck her harder. he finds his rhythm again, and within a moment, she's finding his wrist and squeezing hard as she cums around his cock.

"don't stop, sir, please, don't stop!" she can feel the tension in her tummy build up again, and she's excited to see how worked up her mortal body can make a demon.

he keeps his pace, slapping her ass and fucking her pussy deep.

"fuck, your pussy is so good, doll," he mutters. "you want a demon to cum in you?"

she nods her head yes. "want your babies," she whispers, instantly regretting her dirty words.

dean haults, flipping her onto her back. "gonna watch that pretty face."

she smiles, grabbing his face for a kiss. his hands fist the pillow around her head, and he fucks her wet, warm pussy until his cum spills into her. the feeling of his thick load inside her makes that rope in her tummy snap, and she's begging him to fuck her hard again. he does, and she squirts as he fucks his cum deeper into her.

she cries out loudly as her body winds down from its high. dean switches them so she can lay on his chest. he rubs her body all over, and if her mind wasn't gone, she would easily overthink why he's showing her any sort of care.

her leg loosely wraps around his hips, and her arms wrap around his chest. he presses kisses to her head, petting her hair.

"y'know," he starts. "takes a real strong man to fight off total possession." she nods dumbly against his chest, just happy to feel the vibrations of his voice from his chest in her ear. "your man's got a lot of willpower to get back to you, sweetheart."

she nods again, pulling herself onto him more. "thank you for not hurting me, dean."

he smiles at her, and his hands continue to rub all over her body. "i still don't have a death wish, babygirl."

#dean winchester #deanmon #demon dean smut #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x y/n #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural smut #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #dean winchester fanfiction

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deanbrainrotwritings · 2 months

Text

— DEMONOLOGY AND HEARTACHE

SUMMARY : dean is a devout catholic and has never known a life outside the church, all his resolve is broken by the temptation of a hellish seductress

PAIRING : priest!dean winchester x demon!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : explicit(18+), smut, p in v, oral (m. receiving), corruption kink, praise kink, priest au, priest kink, sub/dom dynamics, sub!dean, defiling holy stuff

WORD COUNT : 4.9k

A/N : title from an atreyu song. dean’s not undercover, just pure corruption. I’m going to hell. my sister said his seed is holy, lmaoo. this one fills my “Go to hell!”/“Where do you think I came from?” square for my @jacklesversebingo card. enjoy Dean’s holy seed (and I’m sorry if y’all are religious, I used to be religious, too, to make it worse) XX

Green eyes illuminated by moonlight. They flit across the dark and empty space of the nave casually. There’s a draught that makes him shudder, but he remains unphased. He makes sure the lights are off, double checks that the doors and windows are closed, and continues onward to his room to rest for the night.

He’s still in his vestments, blending in with the darkness. He only becomes darker in the shadows of the hallways, making his way to the staircase leading to his room. The wooden stairs creak beneath his formal shoes, olden oak that’s more silent in the day thunders in the silent dark.

A crucifix greets him when he’s at the top of the staircase and making the sign of the cross automatically, but slowly, with reverence. Moonlight kisses his delicate features; green eyes twinkle like a billion stars, gold lashes like the lustre of the sun’s reflection on the moon’s surface, freckles show clearly now beneath the exposing light.

His splendour is unmatched even inside the grand cathedral.

He makes his way blindly to his bedroom and wipes a hand over his stubble, scratching lightly at his jaw, thoughtfully planning out his next day. He gets to his room and begins to toe off his shoes as he pushes the door open all the way.

He expects moonlight to strike his face, but it’s quiet and dark. He can smell firewood and something foul, unfamiliar. He thinks nothing of it, he can feel the breeze pushing between his curtains, and assumes it’s something outside. He turns around to shut the door and holds the wall for balance as he pulls his shoes off all the way.

“Father,” he hears a soft voice, unknown to him. He turns quickly, half-scared, half-confused: how did someone get up here and why is there a woman in my room? were the first questions asked in his mind. The dim light on his bedside table lights up his room and reveals a nun in her nightgown sitting on his bed.

He recognises her now and relaxed, only slightly. She’s new and arrived two weeks ago. Sister… something or another; it’s been a busy couple of weeks.

She watches him curiously, her brows furrow and her eyes mysterious. She leans back casually on her arms, too relaxed for his comfort. The top of her nightgown undone, two strings hang loosely over her breasts. A chill teases his spine and rides up to the top of his head, prickling the freckled skin of his body. He doesn’t move.

“What are you doing here?” He asks quietly, offering his hand to her to get her to stand from his bed. She stares at it indifferently. “You should be in your quarters,” he adds, reaching out for her arm instead.

“I’ve been thinking about what I confessed to you yesterday, Father,” she murmurs, shaking her arm out of his hand. He sighs tiredly, but smiles kindly at her anyway. He can’t remember her confession, everyone confesses multiple times about multiple things, and goes to him—searching for repentance.

“You’re forgiven, you need to move forward,” he reassures her.

“I don’t think I can,” she replies almost instantly. He raises a brow, but lets her continue. “Does that… make me a bad person?” She asks, concern and guilt laces her voice.

“No, it makes you human.” He purses his lips and takes her soft hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You should sleep, we can talk tomorrow,” he tries again, loosening his grip on her cool hand, but she keeps holding onto it.

He narrows his eyes, his jaw clenches when she lifts her cotton gown. He raises a brow when she’s standing up on her knees, and a crease forms between his eyebrows. Her other hand curls around the back of his neck and he opens his mouth to question her, moving back slightly. Instead, her grip becomes firm and her warm lips press against his lips and he stiffens, confused.

He can feel her hand around his wrist moving and her gown ruffles. He feels her warmth beneath his fingers, wetness against his fingertips, that makes him gasp and pull away. He snatches his hand away from between her legs and sees that she’s smiling knowingly.

“What are you doing?” He asks in disbelief, but his heart is pounding, sending blood to his cock. “You need to leave,” he clears his throat. Heat, like hellfire, washes over his body, and turns away to hide himself when his face flushes and his cock twitches.

“Come on, Father,” she murmurs provocatively. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply before turning to face her with a glare. “I know what you’ve been dreaming of,” she laughs mischievously, sitting back on her legs. She pulls down the top of her nightgown, freeing her breast to play with her nipple. Her other hand moves down between her legs, she opens herself by parting her legs, and starts to tease her wet slit while he watches.

“Go to hell!” He shouts at her, looking away and trying to get out of his room. He reaches the doorknob and gets the door open only for it to slam shut.

“Where do you think I came from?” She asks darkly, and his stomach sinks. He shakes the doorknob wildly and pulls as hard as he can, but it doesn’t budge. He feels her hand grab the back of his shirt and she flings him across the room so he lands on the bed. He scrambles up on it and tries to get away when her eyes flash completely black. “You’re getting rusty, Dean, ignoring all those omens,” she shakes her head and tsks, climbing up on the bed with him.

He thinks about what she says, he never thought much about the mutilations because of the wolves that roam freely, or the electrical storms because of the cold and the usage of heaters, or the crop failures due to the weather. He shouldn’t have brushed it off, but he hadn’t encountered demonic activity in years. This whole time, it was circling him and he didn’t even notice.

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” he starts to whisper, grabbing the rosary from around his neck. “Omnis satanica potestas, omnis incur-” She grabbed the rosary from him roughly, quieting the exorcism from continuing, and stared at it with a wicked smile before pulling it harshly.

“That won’t work on me, baby.” The beads fell over his body when the rosary snapped. Wooden beads and black beads bounce on his bed, then scatter loudly onto the floor, rolling and sliding across wood until they stop on their own or hit a wall.

“You… you were making me dream all those things,” he accuses breathlessly. She nods wordlessly, stepping in between his parted legs with her hands on his bent knees. She bites her lip, stares lustfully at the black attire he wears. A holy man.

“I know… you liked it,” she whispers, causing him to swallow nervously. “I watched you pleasure yourself every time you woke up,” she admits shamelessly, fingers meeting his belt to get it off. He squirmed and grabbed her hand to stop her, but his cock was hard just remembering his hedonistic actions and the lewd dreams that haunted him every night for weeks. “What was it like dreaming of how soft I feel? Do you think your hand feels as good as I do inside? Do you want my mouth like you loved using it in your dreams?” She continues to tease, leaning over him, hands sliding up the front of his body.

He was warm and taut beneath her hands. His body hums with pleasure, he aches to touch her despite knowing it was wrong. He craves to feel her body beneath his own, wrapped around him so tightly. He hates himself for it, but it’s all his mind could think of, especially when he could feel her warm breath over his tingly lips.

“What do you want from me?” He asks quietly, staring deeply into her black eyes. She blinks and they return to normal eyes again, a sweet smile growing on her face. It could’ve fooled him, that warmth that sparkled inside—it must actually be hellfire.

“I want you to beg me to fuck you, I want you to need it really bad,” she whispered hotly, tracing the buttons on his shirt. He swallowed anxiously, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of her pink lips and soft skin, supple breasts in plain sight, smooth thighs pressed against his. His whole body longed for the feel of her lips, her hands, for everything of hers to be on him.

“I… I can’t do that,” he choked out. He grabs her hands and moves them away from his body then scoots up on his bed to put some distance between them.

“You can,” she encourages him with a wicked smile, crawling up to him. “You will,” she promises, reaching between his legs for his belt.

He squirms, weakly attempting to push her away because that’s what his instincts told him to do. She’s a demon, he’s a priest. She is unholy and he’s supposed to be an intermediary for God, Jesus, the angels, the Holy Spirit, and everything else that’s good. He can’t just lay with a woman, especially when she comes directly from hell.

She didn’t make a single move. She just waited for him and her hair fell prettily over her shoulder when she tilted her head at him expectantly. Her skin looked smooth and her lips were pink and they looked soft. He could easily remember what they looked like around his cock in his dreams. He didn’t want to give in to her, he spent years in the church, he has every scripture memorised, and he’s helped hundreds of people without expecting so much as a thanks.

But he wanted to really feel what he’d felt in his dreams for two weeks. He craved it like he’d never craved sex before—or anything else for that matter. Here, in a holy place was a very sexy woman in his bed, a woman who crawled her way out of hell and became fixated on him. For weeks, she tormented him, planted herself in his dreams and gave him glimpses of her in real life as a nun covered from head to toe.

Now, she sat between his legs, with nothing underneath her sleeping gown. The pure white dress hid the true darkness of her soul. He rubbed his fingers together, though they were dry, his slacks tightened just remembering the feel of her wet folds against his fingertips. He’d never been this hard and desperate before, it usually went away quickly when the guilt of his libidinous thoughts consumed him.

He’d never done anything bad before, never strayed from his teachings or from the rules. Here she was, tempting him to take a bite of her, tempting him to give himself to her for her pleasure, for his pleasure. Demon or not, no one’s ever gone out of their way to get to him, that was a messed up thought, but it turned him on.

“Please,” he chokes out. It shocked him. He stared at her in surprise, but she just looked back at him arrogantly. Slowly, as if waiting for his protest, she tugged his belt and got the leather out of the buckle. He started to breathe heavily, aroused by her gaze and thought of being defiled.

She starts to pull the belt from the loops of his slacks and he willingly lifts his hips when it catches beneath him. He gives in easily when she pops the button out of the slit. He even lets his head fall back into the pillow and rolls his hips upwards when she slowly pulls the zipper down.

She starts to pull his pants down, he can feel the rough scrap of his boxers against his skin when she tries to do it all at once. He doesn’t care anymore, with his thumbs hooked at the sides, he pulls them down with her help. He can feel the cool air kiss his cock, slowly as she exposes him. He moans softly when he’s fully free, he knows there’s precum leaking at the slit, it feels colder.

He feels like a wanton whore and he’s barely made a sound. He can hear the delicate fabric of his clothes hit the floor, it makes him feel more excited.

“Wow, you really are blessed,” she murmurs, her warm breath blowing over his cock. He fists the sheets, feels it twitch instantly, and opens his eyes to stare at her. “It’s just as pretty as the rest of you,” she praises, keeping eye contact with him. He bites his lip and he’s about to respond with a ‘shut up’ when she lets a string of her saliva drip onto his tip.

The words catch in his throat. She leans forward, her soft hair falls over her face, and her tongue makes contact with the warm head of his cock. He doesn’t know what to do with himself when she hums at the taste of him. His body stiffens and it feels even better than he dreamed. When he lets his head fall back into the pillow, he catches a glimpse of the crucifix over his bed. She turned it upside down.

“Father,” she whispers, “don’t look away from me.” He looks back at her, her soft hands manoeuvre his body so he has his knees bent upwards again. He feels exposed, vulnerable, sinful, and dirty.

“Don’t call me that,” he requests softly. He reaches for her jaw to guide her back down onto him. That excites her, he can see her eyes livening. His stomach flutters.

“Dean,” she sneers when she wraps her hand around the base of his cock and starts to twist her hand upwards. He growls lowly, shyly lifts his arm, and puts it over his eyes. “I prefer calling you Father. It makes this way hotter. Don’t you think?” She asks teasingly and then laughs.

“No….” He trailed off, spreading his legs a little wider when she leaned forward to kiss his stomach.

“Call me whatever you want, Father,” she whispers against his skin, trailing her lips downwards as she jerks him off. “Whore, demon, hellspawn… Sister,” she smirks when he whines, then sucks on his hip bone. A red mark blossoms on his skin. “I’m so wet,” she tells him, teasingly flattering her palm over the tip of his dick, “this is the most fun I’ve had in ages.” He watches the little smirk on her face and while he’s curious about what she does in hell, he can feel his impending release.

“Please,” he begs quietly. It makes her stop instead. She puts one hand on the inside of his thigh and spreads him open the way a man would do to a woman and she stares down at him curiously. He wiggles to close his legs but she’s stronger than he is, and keeps him as she has him. She pulls gently at his balls, then pushes, and eventually finds a pace where it starts to feel more intense.

“Jesus Christ,” she murmurs with a chuckle, “you’re so fucking sexy.” He flushes at her words and watches her lean down to suck on his balls. He moans loudly and tangles his hand in her hair, then tugs so she moves upwards. “You’re built like a god, any man would be jealous,” she teases, letting him guide her.

“Do what you did in my dreams,” he suggests, then slid his hand down her shoulder and inside the top of her nightgown. He fondled her breasts and innocently held eye contact with her.

“What did I do?” She asks playfully, placing one small kiss on his leaking cock. He glares at her, but she shrugs like she has no idea what he’s talking about. She continues to tease him instead, bites down on his thigh and sucks until he’s whining.

“Please, suck it,” he begs bashfully, pulling his hand out of the gown. She moves up his body, he’s sure it’s to embarrass him when she stares down at him.

“Suck what?” He groans at her question, lifts both hands to tug frustratedly at his hair. She moves away nonchalantly, slowly begins to lift the white gown upwards, revealing inch by glorious inch of her perfect body. He watches her touch herself with his mouth parted in astonishment, her hands play with her breasts and she teases herself between her legs.

“Suck my cock, please, I want to feel your mouth,” he rushes out quickly. He sits up and takes her waist, dragging her forward until he has his warm mouth on her nipple.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, Dean,” she promises, playing with his hair. She rubs her thighs together and lets him switch from one nipple to the other. He stares up at her the whole time, his eyes shimmering with lust. “I hope this haunts you forever,” she sneers. Giving his hair a sharp tug to move him away forcefully and go down on him. He grunts softly and wraps his hand around his cock, slowly sliding a dry hand up and down.

“That’s my job,” she scolds, slapping his hand away. She settles between his legs, and without warning, she wraps her lips around the tip, sending a sharp electric feeling running up his spine. It’s unbelievable how wet she feels around him, how warm her mouth feels engulfing him inch by inch. His stomach becomes taut with the way she runs her tongue along the bottom vein, sucking when she lifts up slightly, then does it over and over.

Her slowness drives him crazy. She was merciless in his dreams, passionate and focused on making him reach the ultimate pleasure, but now, she’s just torturing him. One of her hands follows her mouth and the other slides up his chest beneath the buttoned black shirt. Her nails scrape his chest gently but her fingers brush teasingly against his nipple. He arches his back and moans loudly, he doesn’t care that the night amplifies his voice and carries his pretty noises quickly down the halls of the holy church.

She slides her hand away from his chest and blindly finds his wrist. He grips the sheets tightly, moaning and groaning. The sounds he made travelled to her clit, it pulsed, her walls clenched around nothing, and she dripped between her legs with a flood of warm heat. He let her place his hand on her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. She’s not going to give him what he wants, she wants him to take what he wants. It’s the ultimate goal for her, to make him loosen up and fuck her mouth.

“Please, I want…” he trails off, both his hands now resting on her head. She drools around his cock and hums when he pushes her down farther. She wants to shove him deeper into her, to take him fast and hard, but it turns her on more to make him needy and desperate. To make him be the one that uses her demonic mouth and hellish body for his pleasure.

She holds onto the back of his thighs and pushes them so they’re almost at his chest. When her nose is pressed against his pelvis and she swallows around him, he holds her there.

“Oh, Jesus,” he moans, his balls draw inwards and his stomach coils. She moans softly and starts to pull off him, only to start sucking and bobbing her head up and down just as he wanted her to. He gets louder somehow and rougher, his grip on her hair is almost painful. The sounds of her throat getting fucked makes him shudder and squirm. He needs to cum so bad. “Yes, don’t stop…” he breathes out.

She hums again, he thought it was a promise that she wouldn’t stop, but when he makes that specific grunt he tends to make when he’s about to cum and when he stiffens and gasps, the warmth of her wet mouth is replaced by the drag of cool air from the room.

He whines and his eyes fly open. He watches her smirk and wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. She still has one hand on his thigh, bending him and keeping him open. He gets shy again, but she doesn’t let him keep his dignity. She gets closer to him and she leans over him to whisper, “you taste so good, Father, I’d imagine it’s all the holy fuckery you consume and spew to others…”

“It turns me on. You make me so wet and needy. Your mouth is mine.” She kisses him softly, even though her words offend him. He glares at her for her blasphemy, but his eyes close when her soft, sweet lips make contact with his. The tenderness of her kiss fools him, takes his mind off her offensive expressions, and keeps him complacent.

Her tongue prods at his lips. Her lewdness makes him eager, she’s thorough, licking across his lips slowly. When he opens his mouth to her, her kiss is hungry. She traces the inside of his mouth with her tongue, like a cartographer, she’s precise and she makes him breathless. She barely pulls away, allowing him to catch his breath temporarily before resuming.

She’s warm when her tongue brushes against his, velvety and sweet. She tastes like wine and fruit, bitter and sweet. The taste of her is divine, opposing her unholy nature and the filthy words she uses to worship him. She pulls away again and straddles his hips. He barely recovers from her kiss when he feels her rub herself over his cock.

He feels his stomach do flips like a dog excited to show his master tricks for a treat. She moans softly and continues rolling her hips. He bends his knees and grasps her thighs painfully, watches between their bodies how she slides her wetness up and down his cock. She begins to unbutton his shirt and carelessly throw the clerical collar behind her when she fully gets the shirt open.

“Wait,” he stops her breathlessly, “is this your body?”

She raises a brow and looks down at herself with a nod. “Had to dig it out of a hole in the forest. I was a witch, a badass one. Those stupid hunters,” she grumbles the last bit under her breath, lifts herself up and positions his tip at her entrance. He raises a brow, too, a smile of amusement grew on his lips as he bit down on it. “Why? Do you like it?” She smirks, but his response is cut off by a moan when she lowers herself on his cock.

She feels even better than he dreamed. He huffs out a breath, he feels sweatier with the shirt and the suit jacket he still wears, but if she doesn’t feel like letting him take it off, he doesn’t mind. She grinds down on him and finds his hands to place one on her breasts and the other between her legs.

“You feel fucking amazing inside me, Dean,” she praises. His stomach lurches, the use of his name turns him on more, and he bucks his hips up. With a little moan she starts to lift herself up, he can feel every inch of her against his cock, the wetness, the warmth. He doesn’t think he’ll last as long as he did in his dreams. He carefully thumbs between her folds and feels for her clit. Her gasp guides him and he gently flicks it until she’s riding him faster. She leans back against his bent legs, arches her back, and he squeezes her breast roughly. “That’s right, you’re doing so good,” she says softly, spreading her legs to open herself more to his adept fingers.

Her words spur him on, the bedsprings start to squeak, the headboard starts to hit the wall, the upside down crucifix rattles on the wall. His senses are high. She feels amazing wrapped around his cock, her breathy moans fuel the fire of his orgasm. She tightens and squeezes around him, walls clamping down and keeping him inside her. He starts to get louder, too, he can’t help it. Groans slip from his lips and he whimpers occasionally, he can feel her react each time, and he doesn’t plan on shutting up.

“You’re so good, so goddamned perfect,” she cries softly, it’s the hottest thing he’s heard or seen. She gets sloppy and desperate, staring down at him covetously. He stares back, even if he wants to shut his eyes and hide away from her gaze. He rubs around her clit faster and watches her fall apart, little by little.

She sounds, looks, and feels even hotter. In his dreams, he understood her intentions and how hot it would be if they had sex, but the reality of it is far more intense and intimate compared to any of his dreams. She filled his mind with fantasies he’d never had before. Having sex in the confessional, on the altar, in the Bishop’s office, and countless locations that were far too holy—in his opinion—being defiled by both of them. He pinches her nipple roughly, she moans and tightens around him. Then, he flicks her clit faster, watches her seize while whining his name.

“Be a good boy and cum for me, Dean. Want you to fill me up,” she says breathlessly. He throbs inside of her and whimpers involuntarily, feeling himself spill inside her as if his body worked according to her commands.

“God,” he moans, bucking his hips upwards. He abandons her clit and her breast, and bruisingly digs his fingers into her thighs. He moans softly, letting the orgasm take over his body and mind. He pulls her down with both hands on her hips and keeps her on his cock shortly, her walls flutter and she inhales sharply. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his eyes half-open.

“Holy fuck,” she gasps, toes curling as she falls apart at the sensation of his cum warming her up. She slowly moves up and down, letting him feel every inch of her pulsing walls along his throbbing cock. Her fingers find her clit to intensify and lengthen her orgasm, finishing what he’d begun. She doesn’t expect his tenderness, but he sits up and tangles his hand into her hair and kisses her deeply.

He mimics how she’d kissed him earlier. His inexperienced tongue traces the roof of her mouth and he brushes his tongue timidly against hers. She deepens the kiss, encourages him to keep doing what he wants to do and tugs his hair. His quiet moans make her horny again and he pulls away. Now that she’s abandoned her clit, she shoves his clothes off his shoulders.

She kisses his neck and his chest. His mind starts to drift now that he’s basking in the afterglow, her lips ghost downward and she lightly touches his nipple with the tip of her tongue. He stiffens and focuses on her again. She moves off his softened cock which is coated in a mixture of their release. She chuckles and then beholds him in his entirety.

He glows and he’s flushed, pink and shiny with sweat. His cock rests on his thighs and he has a mark on his hip from her lips. His lips are swollen, almost red from biting them, coated in saliva—hers and his. His hair is a mess, sexy and soft. He looks guilty now, but she moves forward and looks him in the eyes when she licks the cum off his sensitive cock.

“Don’t worry, Father,” she murmurs before sucking gently on the tip. He gasps and clutches her hair, pulling her off him forcibly. “Even for this… they’ll forgive you, Dean,” she whispers darkly. She gets off the bed and he watches her walk to the small altar he has. She steals a white cloth then walks around his room curiously. She stops in front of a photograph of Jesus and she opens her legs to clean herself.

His eyes widen as he watches her, “hey, come here.” He takes her attention away successfully and watches her drop her leg to walk towards him. “Why are you interested in me?” Is the first question that comes to mind as he panics. “Will you… be less interested in me if I sin more, like we did tonight?” He has the feeling part of her interest in him is simply the fact that he is the weakest, the most susceptible to sin, lust, and making mistakes.

“No… because you’re not going to stray from your beliefs,” she reassures him. “You actually believe, because of your father. Stay the way you are, Dean. You’re going to repent and you’ll mean it, but when you’re with me… you’ll sin again and I’ll defile you, over and over,” she smiles down at him and then climbs onto his bed again, she settles behind him, leaning against the headboard and the wall.

“Until when?” He asks, turning around to look at her.

“I don’t know,” she shrugs, then her eyes flicker down to her body. She parts her folds with two fingers. “Taste me,” she tells him. He tears his eyes from her face to look between her legs. His mouth waters and he slowly gets down into his stomach and stares back up at her. He gently prods her clit with his tongue, her other hand moves into his hair while his tongue slides between her two fingers. “Don’t you worry about the when right now… you and I will have our fun.”

➥ god, if you are above

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miserable-sarah · 1 year

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Listen 18+

Pairings: Sam x Reader

Requested: Hi. Your stories are great.

I would also like to ask you for a small fanfikton Reader is a bit emotionally upset after a hunt in which she was not supposed to participate. She runs haphazardly through the bunker, bumps into things, gets quite cheeky, eats her way through the kitchen, from cakes to chips.... Sam watches her goings-on for a while, amused, until he decides it's better to put a stop to her, and he knows just how to set his little girl's head straight again.

( daddy Dom) ("next time I tell you to stay in the bunker, you stay in the bunker! Got it!) .... Lots of cuddling at the end. Hope you like the idea. Greetings from Bavaria

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, Oral (F&M), NSFW, Dark!Sam, Rough sex, spit kink, Daddy!Kink, slapping, yelling. (sorry if I missed anything.)

Summary: You go on a hunt, you were supposed to stay in the bunker because it was dealing with things you've never dealt with and Sam didn't want you getting hurt. You didn't listen anyway and went. Of course. Sam sets you straight.

You pace around the kitchen, you were waiting for your food to stop heating. You wanted ice cream but you didn't have any in the bunker. You went on a hunt you weren't supposed to go on. You saw some things you'd never thought you'd ever see. Hell hounds, demons, angels. Nothing made sense anymore. The only thing you know is food, it's the only thing that doesn’t change or surprise you. You take your food out and walk around the bunker, pacing, again. You still can’t wrap your head around what you saw. You almost died, and not because of a demon because of an angel! Aren’t they supposed to be nice!?

You bummed into a lamp, it shook but didn’t fall. You looked at Sam. Sam just looked at you and looked away. Sam and Dean watched you, they know what you’re going through because they also went through it.

“Soon.” Sam replies.

“She ate all my chips” Dean sighs with a pout.

“Just go get more” Sam shakes his head. The boys stiffen up when Y/n makes her way towards them.

“Why didn’t you tell me? It just doesn’t make sense.” You shake your head confused. Sam tells you everything. Dean backs away.

“I’m just gonna get more snacks” he grabs his keys and leaves

“Sam?” Sam sighs and sits you in the table.

“I was trying to protect you”

“Protect me?!” You shake your head “no that’s all I ever hear. What’s the real reason you didn’t tell me?”

“That is the real reason”

“Did you think I wouldn’t believe you? Or that I couldn’t handle it? Why would you not tell me this? Because I would be too worried what?!”

“Y/n I didn’t tell you so you would be protected. You need to calm down.” Sam was enjoying your little show but now that it’s directed towards him he’s unamused.

“Don’t tell me to calm down. I’ve been friends with angel and no one decided to tell me! Cas didn’t even tell me!” You pace around more. “Then, I almost get killed” Sam picks you up. “What are you doing?” You yell, he’s draped you over his shoulder with ease.

“I’ve to calm my little girl down” he says walk towards his room. Sam throws on his bed.

“Sam” you whisper

“It’s okay daddy’s got you” you shiver at his words. You lay down on the bed letting Sam take control like always. Sam’s hands run over your sides, he dips down and gives you small kisses on your lips and neck. He removes your shirt with ease, your pants join your shirt somewhere in the room. He kisses down your body, his fingers twist your nipples. You let out a little moan. Your eyes watch as he gets lower on you. The anticipation makes you crave more. You feel yourself getting wet, you clench around nothing. He’s definitely doing his magic because you’re not thinking of the hunt anymore. He kisses your inner thighs making you tingle.

"Sam, please" You start to get needy.

"Please what?" You groan and throw your hair back, you can feel yourself getting embarrassed.

"Please" you stutter "Please, fuck me" you say quietly.

"Louder"

"Sam!" You whine out. He slaps your thigh hard, you let out a squeal. "Daddy, please fuck me" You say louder. Sam smirks at you and he pulls your thong off your body, you can feel his hot breath on your pussy. You quiver just thinking about his touch. Sam kisses your inner thigh again, he moves his head over and licks a strip.

"You want that?" He is still smirking at you. You nod your head. "Words" he slaps your thigh again.

"Yes, daddy" you whimper, you bite your lip and look at him in the eyes. He stares right back at you, his large hands hold your hips down as he starts sucking and licking at your clit. You moan and try to move your body but Sam's got you held down. You throw your head back and enjoy what he's doing. Sam slaps your thigh again making you look at him. You watch him and he makes sure you're watching. Sam always loves to watch how you look when he's pleasing you. You moan and shake slightly, you grab a handful of his hair and lightly yank on it. Your hands slide down his shoulders, to his arms, then finally to his hands.

"You taste good" Sam mumbles, he enters a finger into you. "Like that?" he asks you, you nod your head

"Y-yes daddy" You stutter, he enters another finger stretching you out. You clench around his fingers and he chuckles at you. He brings his head back down and licks your clit over and over again. "Daddy" you moan loudly, you can feel your body shaking you lay back letting it take over. "I-i'm" you stutter not being able to finish your sentence, Sam thrusts his fingers faster and harder encouraging you to finish. You shriek and your vision goes blurry. Your whole body is shaking and you're completely over taken by bliss. Sam helps you ride out your orgasm of course like always.

Sam stands up and you look at his body, you bite your lip. "Like what you see?" He teases you. You nod your head yes. Sam grabs you by the ankles and pulls you further off the bed, you squeal and giggle. "Are you feeling better?" He asks kissing your lips sweetly.

"Yes" You kiss back. Sam takes his pants and boxers off, he picks you up and plants you against the door, your legs are wrapped around his waist. He kisses your neck roughly, you make a gasping moan because the door is cold and your body is hot. You grab Sam's face and kiss it. He kisses back roughly, your hands are running up and down his chest and back.

"Are you ready?" He asks

"Yes daddy" You say confidently. Sam lines him self up and lets you fall onto him. You moan out loudly, Sam does the same. He doesn't give you any time to adjust he just keeps thrusting into you roughly. "Fuck!" You yell, you put your head against the door and watch as he uses you like a toy. He's glistening from his sweat, his hair is falling in his face, the room is hot and stuffy. He kisses your neck again down to your shoulder. The room is filled with your moans, his grunts, and sex noise. You love when he gets this rough, when he focuses on you and pleasing you. He lifts you back off the wall, he holds your thighs roughly you'll definitely have bruises. He slams into you repeatedly.

You scream loudly "Too deep" you whimper.

"Daddy's gotta teach you a lesson." Your eyes widen, when Sam gets rough he gets real rough.

"No no I learned my lesson" You groan.

"No you haven't" He pants "I had to take care of you, just calm you down because you couldn't listen."

"Daddy please" You beg, you have tears in your eyes. It feels good but hurts at the same time. Sam slams you down harder on him, you dig your nails in his shoulder blades causing him to hiss at you. His large body holds your shaking tiny one against him. "Next time I say stay in the bunker, you stay in the bunker! Got it!"

"Yes, daddy. I'm sorry" you whimper.

Sam drops you to your feet.

"Knees" You immediately drop on them. Sam's fingers go under chin, he slowly moves his thumb to your lips, he spreads them apart, you suck on his thumb. "Good girl" He says watching you intensely. He removes his thumb and grabs you by the throat. "Be good" He says sternly. You nod your head yes. He smirks and holds his cock to your lips, you open your mouth inviting him in. Sam thrusts into your mouth he hits the back of your throat and you try your best to hold back a gag. Sam holds your head still, he thrusts in your mouth, so deep your nose touches his pubic bone. You choke and cough, you have tears in your eyes. You look up at him and he watches you struggle. He pulls back letting you breathe. You suck and lick his tip, he lets out a moan. He slams back in and bottoms out again.

"You like sucking daddy's dick?" He says pulling some of your hair out your face. You nod your head "Words" He slaps your cheek.

"Yes, daddy" You say but it's muffled because he's stuffed in your mouth. He taps your cheek a few times. He pulls back letting you breathe again. He pulls completely out, you stay on your knees with your mouth open, like a good girl.

"My little whore" He whispers to you. He circles around you "Look at how good I've got you trained" he stands in front of you again towering over you. His fingers squeeze your cheeks together, he lifts your head. You stick out your tongue and he lets spit fall from his mouth onto your tongue. "Good girl" He smirks at you as you swallow. "Bound to me" he says, it's almost sinister the way he has you wrapped around his finger. He stands you back up and he lays down on the bed. He motions for you to get on top.

You get on top and slowly sink yourself down on him. You let out a groan and throw your head back, Sam's hands grab your breasts, he squeezes them and plays with your nipples. You move yourself up and down on him. You love the way he feels inside you, he stuffs you completely and some angles he's too big but you love it anyway. He always says you'll get used to him but you're not sure you will.

"You like being my whore?" He asks sucking air in through his teeth.

"Yes, daddy I love being your whore" you moan

"You're mine forever" He moves his hands down guiding your hips.

"I'm yours forever" You agree. Sam pushes you down so you're pressed against him, he lifts his knees up and thrusts into you over and over again. You moan loudly.

"Fuck daddy" you whine. "I'm gonna cum" You say in his ear. He grips onto your hair pulling it.

"No" he groans "You can't"

"Please!" You whimper, you're so close. He shakes his head no. You close your eyes tight and try not to think about the pure pleasure you're in. Sam flips you over, he lifts your legs over his shoulder. He slams into you harder, his fingers rub your clit. You scream out, there is no way you're going to be able to hold back.

"Sam, please!" Fuck, what a big mistake. Sam slaps your cheek, you groan while holding your cheek. It still doesn't distract you, if anything it brings you closer.

"What did you say?" He asks, his entire body is sweating, he's panting, he has hair sticking to his face.

"D-Daddy" You stutter your breathing is way off, your legs are shaking and you're trying to cum all over this man.

"Better" he huffs. Sam leans back, he grabs your hips and slams into you.

"Oh my god" You groan through your teeth, his fingers still rubbing your clit. "Daddy I-I can't-" Your whole body is taken over by pleasure, you can't help but cum, and cum hard. `You feel something snap and a huge release. You scream his name loudly, your hands grip the sheets, your body is shaking violently, you close your eyes tight. Sam helps you ride it out. Luckily he didn't stop.

"You're going to be punished" He smirks at you whispering in your ear. "I'm going to cum in you, make sure you're nice and full" You bite your lip and nod.

"Yes daddy, cum in me please" Sam closes his eyes, his eyebrows furrow together and moans softly. You move up and kiss on his neck sucking on his sweet spot.

"Fuck Y/n" He mumbles, you can feel warm strings of liquid fill you up. His thrusts slow and get sloppy. Sam lets out little moans before pulling out completely. He flops on the bed next to you. You both lay there catching your breath. You move over and lay your head on his chest, he plays with your hair softly.

"Did I hurt you?" He asks

"No" you smile at him.

"Good" He kisses the top of your head. "Sorry about that hunt, Y/n. You weren't supposed to learn everything that way. We are going to explain everything to you and train you to defend yourself against them."

"Thank you, Sammy" Sam kisses your head again and gets off the bed to help you get cleaned up. "How about we do round 2 in the shower?" You wink at him.

"We can shower, but there's no round 2 honey" He smirks at you, you look at him confused. "I told you, you're being punished. I'm thinking no cumming for a week" you gasp

"I had a hard day" you pout

"Should've listened to me" He smirks at you again. You groan and flop back on the bed. This week is going to be torture.

~~ Hope you enjoyed it! Sorry it took a while!

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ccscocoapuffs · 3 months

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dawnagustd · 2 years

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Invincible.

That’s how you feel as the warm breeze whips your arm hanging out of the driver’s side door. Nothing but open road and miles of dirt terrains surround your tiny sports car. The smell of your hair products fills the air as the wind sends your curls flying in every direction. A glance in the rearview mirror through your dark lens-covered eyes reveals that your previous style has become wild and blown out. However, there is nothing a brush and a hair tie can’t fix.

There are far more important things on your mind.

The message came through around 3 AM and by 5 AM, you were on the road, headed nearly 2000 miles outside of your hometown to see the biggest rockstar this world has ever seen.

Not to see him live or anything like that; you could never afford that on a barista’s salary, but you can use your allowance to visit a church retreat. That’s exactly where you told your parents you were going when you withdrew $3300 from your savings.

Of course, you can never go back to your life there now that you’ve lied to go “see the devil” as they would put it, but the thing is. You don’t want to.

All you want to do is travel and see the world they speak so poorly of. Everything you’ve ever been taught came through the mouths of bigots who held themselves higher than anyone who did not worship their God.

From the start of life, you walked the path they’d beaten for you. But once you turned 18, all of hell broke loose. For three years, you’ve lived a double life—spending Sunday through Friday as a well-mannered young lady while you partied on the weekends.

Even though you hate university, it’s also the best thing that ever happened to you. You met friends, learned how to lie—and discovered sexual desires you never thought you had.

However, all that wasn’t enough for a caged bird like yourself even. You started hanging out with a group of people who didn't attend college and spent most of their time idolizing their favorite rock gods. That’s how it happened.

That’s how you found him.

Jungkook’s hair was long, he wore leather pants with his shirt ripped open, chest and abs exposed—he was the definition of a deity because he owned every piece of the stage and the crowd surrounding him. His eyes were pitched black and made out to be soulless, but somehow you still found a spark in them. A passion for the music that you felt you shared with him.

It’s like you read his emotions that no one else could see. As delusional as it sounds, you felt connected.

So, you found his Instagram, you liked his pictures, and you flooded his comments. You even became brave enough to DM him every day.

You’ve always said that you’d stop if he asked you to, but the thing is, he never did. He hasn’t replied either. Well, up until yesterday.

You were on his account looking at his photos, when suddenly you received a direct message. You don’t have many real friends, and you figured it was just one of them sending you a link or something. It didn’t click in your mind until you opened your messages and saw his profile icon and username.

For the first ten minutes, you screamed into your pillow, but then you realized it could be a bot or maybe his account could be hacked. However after opening the message, you discovered a picture of a note.

Written in his handwriting were coordinates to an unknown location. Your first reaction was to look them up, but it only provided an empty piece of land. Because you were skeptical, you asked him about the location but received no reply.

After a while, you concluded that maybe his home is located there, and the global satellite hasn’t picked it up yet. That’s what you wanted to believe, at least. And that is what persuaded you to pack a bag and abandon your life.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew it was on your mind anyway. You’re a thrill seeker; every day you thought about packing your shit and leaving just because you were bored.

You aren’t afraid of not knowing the future or taking a leap, so that’s why despite knowing this is a bad idea, you said, “fuck it.”

Fuck what your religious parents have to say, to hell with your studies, and goodbye to that boring ass town. You’re thirty miles away from meeting the lead singer of Deadly Svn, and your heart is racing with adrenaline.

You spent the night at a hotel and left to meet him at the location about two hours ago. Every few hours, you try to update him, but now you have no signal to contact him. You hope he’s home and security doesn’t call the cops.

The optimism you had before leaving your hometown slowly fades as you get closer and closer, but no sign of life of residency comes into view. You start to believe this was just a joke to get back at you for being so thirsty.

All of your plans to tell him how much you love his music and how you adore his courage to be different seem to be a waste of all the time you practiced in the mirror, so you don’t stammer and trip over yourself. You start to think you’ll never be able to tell him how much he’s changed your life for the better or how you’ll save up enough to see him live one day.

Your expectations sink lower as your GPS takes you off the highway and into the wilderness.

A dirt storm begins to form, prompting you to roll up your windows so that the particles don’t travel into your interior. You can barely see five feet ahead, but you keep going until you hear,

“Your destination is up ahead. You have arrived.”

You sit waiting and holding your breath until the dirt settles. Whirlwinds cover your car in a tan gritted coat of dry soil, but it doesn’t matter to you when your feelings are on the line.

You brace yourself for the worst, and once it’s clear, you know you’ve done right. Absolutely nothing lies in front of you, and your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You pull out your phone and try to send a message over and over, but ultimately realize that you can’t.

It dawns on you that he’s not coming after several minutes of waiting. You’re hurt, heartbroken if you’re being honest with yourself. There’s no denying how high your hopes were despite the probability being highly unlikely, so you don’t even bother holding back the scream that erupts in your throat.

Your fists punch the steering wheel multiple times, releasing your frustrations on your beloved car. Your hands still tremble long after your outburst is over.

Sighing, you grab your bag off the floor and look for something to tie your hair up so that it doesn’t blow in your face once you step outside for a smoke. You find your brush and a scrunchie then get to work.

The process lasts about a minute, and once you have a ponytail secured, you throw the brush on the seat and grab your cigarette pack and lighter.

A gust of air hits your cunt when the door opens, and you place a foot on the ground. You push down your little black dress to shield your fishnet and panty-covered center from the elements.

Once you’re out of the cramped space and soothed with the first inhale of nicotine, your body slowly starts to cool down. You take in the scenery as you exhale—observing all the dry land and dehydrated vegetation around you.

It’s eerily quiet as the sun enters the beginning stages of setting into the horizon. There’s so much silence that you become uncomfortable with being the only person out here, so exposed and vulnerable to whatever ominous presence that your mind thinks is watching you.

Your breathing is as shaky as your limbs. You’re barely able to hold the cigarette between your fingers due to your lack of stability.

With another slow drag from the stick, you close your eyes and let your head loll back as your car supports your weight. You breathe out and are momentarily taken away to a place in your mind that holds your peace. You channel it and allow it to lead you to your next move.

Maybe a minute or so goes by and you’re completely lost within your thoughts, going over “where to” next or what you’re going to do about living arrangements and money. It’s something you planned on figuring out after your meeting, but since you’ve been played it’s all you have left to think about.

While in your trance, you don’t notice that there’s a car speeding towards you, stirring up dust and dirt, until the loud music fills your ears. You open your eyes and turn in the direction of the highway. That’s when you see the black old school with the tinted windows, classic rock blasting through the speakers. You don’t know for sure, but your immediate guess is that it’s him.

The vehicle pulls alongside yours and comes to a stop behind the engine dies. You stand frozen, waiting for someone to climb out of the driver or passenger seat. But nothing happens, and more minutes pass.

You narrow your eyes to look inside while taking a hit from your cigarette, but you can’t see anything because the windows are too dark. A part of you wants to approach it, but you never get the opportunity.

“You shouldn’t play with those, love.”

A man’s voice breaks the thick silence, and the cigarette is snatched from your hand. Your head whips in the direction of the source. The world stops when you lay eyes on the person.

“They’re bad for you,” the man adds as he brings the cigarette to his lips. There’s no mistaking his black-painted nails or multiple piercings and tattoos.

It’s him. Jungkook is standing beside you.

Your mouth is open as you watch him inhale the entire thing in one breath until only the butt remains. He plucks it and sends it flying out of his hand then turns toward you. His body leans against your car while he takes a moment for his eyes to drink you in.

You do the same. However, the expressions on your faces differ. Jungkook’s face remains expressionless while he’s checking you out, but you, on the other hand, are nearly drooling in awe.

He’s even more breathtaking in person. He stands tall and broad, shoulders wide, and a dominance that can captivate you from miles away. He claims it all without a word spoken and that makes him even hotter, more desirable.

His features only add to your attraction to him. This new look of his has been your favorite from the start. Jungkook set standards for rock that many were too afraid to try. He ditched the dark and mysterious look and went with what he wanted.

The icy blue paired with the dark roots of his undercut is something you’d expect to clash, but he pulls it off well. His low cut allows you to see the piercings that adorn his ears, something you’d have to strain to make out on camera, but now it is presented to you up close and personal. You’d be stuck on the silver jewelry forever if there weren’t other parts of him you weren’t dying to check out.

Like the way his tongue absentmindedly pokes at his lip piercing. Or how he lifts his eyebrow slightly while he stares at you. You can’t ignore how defined his pecs are, even in his loose-fitting sweater. Or the way his jeans hug his sculpted thighs.

Immediately, your mouth starts to babble.

“Oh, fuck. It’s you… I’m your biggest fan. I love all of your music… Every song. And I—”

“Enough of that.” He waves his hand and shushes you. Your lips don’t utter another word after he’s asserted his dominance. “I came to talk about you.”

You nod and swallow back whatever it is you were going to say. It can wait, you figure. If he wants to talk about boring you, then so be it.

“So, love.” He approaches you with his hands linked behind his back. His long lashes cover most of his eyes. However, the glossiness of his orbs still give off a small glint that makes them as dreamy as they are hazy. “What’s the problem?”

Your pulse quickens as he inches closer, heart nearly bursting through your skin when his chest touches your arm. Jungkook’s body presses against you as he interrogates you. Though the weather is nice, your palms still sweat profusely. However, your composure doesn’t falter, and you look him in the eye as you speak.

“There isn’t a problem. I really do love your music and—”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” he interrupts.

Well, fuck.

Somehow, your reason for being here slips your mind. You were so excited to actually see him standing next to you, the fact that you’d have to take accountability for your actions got put on the back burner.

Nevertheless, you put on a brave face and confess your sins. Jungkook patiently waits for an answer from you.

“Well,” you start, sighing before you continue to eliminate the shakiness in your voice. “There’s still not a problem or anything on my end but I can understand you must be frustrated with my spamming.”

“I’m not tired, I’m curious, actually.”

You frown. “Why so?”

“Because…” Jungkook’s eyes roll with wonder as he pretends to be in thought. His gaze is directed toward you once he’s done. “I just wanna know how far you’ll go for attention.”

“Attention?” you repeat.

Jungkook nods.

“Yeah. It’s obvious that’s what you want. Am I right?”

“No, you’re not. That’s not why,” you reply, a bit defensive. Maybe that’s partially true, but the way he says it doesn’t sit right with you. “I just—”

“Wanted me to notice you?”

A coy smile threatens to form on Jungkook’s face.

“Yeah,” you confess. “But it’s not what you think.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Well—”

“Well…”

You sigh and admit defeat.

“You’re right, I guess.”

“I am,” Jungkook scoffs. “I’m always right.”

You look straight ahead. There’s a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach because this isn’t going as planned. You spent hours practicing and perfecting each syllable only to be sideswiped by Jungkook’s wit.

He’s reading you so hard you’re scared to think too loud.

“I bet…” He shifts and positions himself in front of you, blocking your view with his body. “I bet there’s even a reason behind this.”

Jungkook gestures toward your figure with his hands, but you’re still clueless.

“My outfit?”

He agrees with a nod.

“But not just that. Everything about you… Including that recycled persona you’re rocking is nowhere near who you really are, is it?”

“No, this is me,” you deny. “I’m not sure who you expected.”

Jungkook reaches out, startling you so you jerk away. He chuckles and then proceeds to take the tiny silver crucifix hanging from your chain between his fingertips. Then he looks at you with a smirk.

“This girl,” he whispers. “That’s who I wanna meet.”

He abandons the jewelry and steps away from you. You release the breath you were holding while his back is turned. His enticing smell still lingers in the evening air, traveling through your nostrils as you inhale it deeply for remembrance.

“You bring her out, and you might get what you want,” he proposes.

Copying his phrase, you continue the banter.

“How do you know what I want?”

Jungkook turns around swiftly, creating a gust of wind as his body turns. He returns to his spot in front of you and leans down so that he’s eye level with you.

“Because I can see everything… Right down to your righteous little soul,” he informs. Jungkook’s voice drops octaves lower, giving you chills and goosebumps along your arm. “You think this is a gimmick, don’t you?”

His eyes begin to bleed black and eventually become saturated with dark ink. Your reflexes cause you to gasp, but you aren’t surprised. You know. You’ve always known.

“No, I don’t,” you answer truthfully. “I know what you are. That’s why I’m not afraid.”

You watch as his face transforms from the handsome features of a man to the characteristics of a monster. However, despite the flare of his nostrils or his clenched jaw, there’s still the same twinkle in those dark eyes, and you fall deeper for the rawness of his true identity.

“So why are you clutching that?” he questions, eyes shifting to your necklace. You didn’t realize you’d grabbed it in your state of shock. “An obedient one, you are.”

His smile grows, revealing his sharp fangs. The heat that radiates from his body has you tempted to move closer, but you hang onto your self-control. Your breath hitches as you’re suddenly met with his thick black talons, coming forward to tap your cheek.

“I like it, baby. I really do, but the thing is…” He gently drags his nail down your skin, and your eyelids flutter shut. One would naturally be afraid of such a creature, but you can’t help but find yourself intrigued by the things your parents begged you not to let in. “You can’t play for both teams.”

The warmth vanishes as he retracts, and you miss it almost immediately. You open your eyes and find him creating some distance.

“What do you think I am, love?”

You only catch the ending of what he says, entirely caught up in the way he touched you or the way his stare penetrated your soul.

“Huh?”

He laughs. “You say you know. Well, what do you know?... Who do you think I am?”

You stare at the broadness of his shoulders, getting lost again until he looks back with a raised brow.

“If you aren’t going to talk, I can leave—”

“You’re one of the fallen. A damned soul,” you quickly reply.

“Very close. But not exactly true, sweetheart.” Jungkook turns around but stays rooted to his spot. Instead, you step closer, feeling braver than before. Your hand abandons your necklace and returns to your side. Jungkook looks down at you as you approach him, his lips forming a lopsided grin.

“Really?” you ask, and he nods.

“Mhm. Bet you don’t even know why you’re here, do you?”

“No,” you answer. “I have no idea. But I’m still glad you invited me.”

“You think you’re the only pretty girl I invited?”

You bite your tongue just in time after almost throwing out an insult in retaliation for your hurt feelings. You’re not gullible; you knew, but he still didn’t have to say it.

You exhale through your nose when he begins to circle you like a shark stalking its prey. You don’t want Jungkook to know it upsets you, but something tells you he already knows it.

“Jealous little thing, huh?” he teases, his hand brushing against the bottom of your dress, gently grazing your ass. Who cares if it was intentional or not; it felt fucking great. “You want it all to yourself. I know the feeling, love.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie.

Jungkook doesn’t believe it, of course.

“Sure you do.” His hands find your shoulders, and he levels his lips with your ear. You shudder, and he feels it. The reaction brings a smirk to his face. He whispers, “You can stop me, you know?”

“I don’t want to,” you answer truthfully.

“Hm, that’s interesting.”

Jungkook’s nose finds its way to your neck. He inhales deeply and hums while his large hands run up and down your arms. Every part of his is hot to the touch so your feverish flesh is scorching due to the friction. Your knees buckle when he starts using his lips to caress you instead of his nose.

He breathes out his words, making everything he says sound vulgar and sweet.

“You think you can handle me, love?” Jungkook asks, teeth grazing your skin in the midst of his trail of open-mouth kisses.

Jungkook sways, and his crotch rubs against your lower back. You can feel his desire growing as time ticks by.

You make sure your answer is as confident as the boner in his jeans. “I know I can.”

However, Jungkook isn’t as convinced as you are.

“Well, if that’s the case… Why don’t you prove it?” he insists, amusement finding its way back into his smile.

Your body tenses when he grabs your face and forces you to look at him, knowing the effect he has on you. But no matter how sexy he looks with wet lips and lust-filled eyes, your ego doesn’t shrink.

“I can do that too,” you boast.

“Oh, I hope so, baby,” Jungkook chuckles. “You know why?”

“Why, Jungkook?”

Your stomach flips when his laughter fills your ears, his pitch lowering until it reaches a level no human is capable of forming.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to fuck up for too long.”

All you feel is his arm snake around your waist before he spins you and pins you against his car. You hiss as your breasts are being pressed against the scolding glass of his vintage masterpiece. His hips keep your lower half pinned to the vehicle while his hands grab your arms and place them on the roof.

Your thighs and chest burn from the blistering heat, but you grit through it because the way his body feels on yours takes your mind off of the pain.

Jungkook’s nose audibly inhales your flesh while his hands move down your body, lifting your dress so he can grind against your ass. They move up again and find your boobs, and he kneads both mounds in his hands.

“Fuck, you’ve been a bad girl, love,” he states. “So, so bad.”

“No I haven’t,” you smirk, rubbing your ass against his dick. “I’m an angel.”

Jungkook scoffs.

“You wish.”

He abandons your tits to give your ass some attention. You bite your lip when he separates and squeezes your folds, complimenting you on how soft it feels in his grasp.

“My, my, my…” he sighs. “Baby, this piece of ass is the only thing I’d ever thank God for.”

His praise makes you smile proudly.

“You’re so fucking soft, and so damn beautiful… I can’t wait to ruin this body. You’ve got no idea, love,” Jungkook continues.

“Show me, then. Teach me a lesson,” you challenge.

Jungkook’s menacing laugh fills your ears, and chills go through your body. Your burning skin has adapted to the searing exterior at this point.

“Sweetheart, do you know what I do to pretty girls like you out here?” One hand slips between your thighs and the other grabs your face. He lifts your head and angles it toward his dark eyes. You instantly get lost in them. “You wanna know what I do to them?”

Jungkook’s middle finger slides back and forth against your tights and lace panties, the sharpness of his nails threatening to rip the fabric strand by strand. Your lips quiver and beg for him to kiss you, but you keep focus on the conversation.

“Tell me.”

He smiles and reveals his fangs. However, it doesn’t startle you for one second. He intrigues you as much as he attracts you. You want to see more. You want to learn about who he really is.

“Well,” he starts, gently turning your head and laying it against the surface. Your shadow has blocked the sun and cooled down that portion of the vehicle so your cheek doesn’t burn like your arms and thighs did.

“It starts with desperation. No matter how hard you try, I’ll never give you a response,” he informs. “I wait. I’ll wait years if I have to.”

While he speaks, his digit teases your clit. A smirk forms on his lips when he draws a small moan from your throat. He moves to your opening and applies a small amount of pressure, threatening to break the material and enter your pussy.

“Then, whenever I feel like you’re ripe enough for me to devour, I call… And they always come running.”

“Jungkook,” you gasp when his talon pierces your clothing and tears a hole, thinking he’s going to give you what you desire. But he doesn’t, and he shushes you to silence.

“Shh. Let me finish talking, love.”

“Okay,” you whimper, trying your best to keep it together.

He whispers in your ear. “Good girl.”

You shudder when his bare fingertips actually come in contact with your heat. Your hips move for friction, but it’s not nearly enough.

Jungkook’s lips return to your neck so he can litter your skin with his teeth. The sting that comes with his bite leaves your flesh tingling and radiating with a sharp pain.

“You know what happens when I get them out here?... All alone,” he asks you, and you shake your head.

“No. I don’t.”

That’s when he admits his true intentions of messaging you back.

“First, I fuck them.”

His finger dips into your wetness and he collects your arousal. He uses it to easily glide the pad of his digit over your throbbing bundle of nerves and you instantly become mush in his arms.

“Then…”

Jungkook’s other hand grabs your throat, and his sharp black nails tap against your jugular. It’s like his vision is trained on the veins that store the blood pumping through your body. It’s impossible for you to focus on how he’s taunting you with the sharpness of his talon when he’s providing pleasure between your legs.

It gives you a rush, the thought of him tearing your skin with those dagger-like nails makes you shiver with anticipation. Your heart rate speeds up and Jungkook chuckles as if he can hear it racing. The longer his eyes watch you in this position, the more you forget about his pending statement until he reminds you.

“...I devour them.”

A shriek escapes you as his nail drags across your skin, creating a shallow cut on the left side of your neck. It isn’t deep but blood drips down your chest, nearly disappearing underneath your dress. However, Jungkook spins you around before it can reach that far.

His thick forked tongue darts out of his mouth, ready to taste whatever it can access. Your skin sizzles with heat as he drags it over your blood-stained body.

“I fucking knew it,” he groans, lifting his head to look at you. Jungkook grabs you by the neck and gives you a disapproving look, steam rising from his body and black horns casually growing from his head.

Your wide eyes watch without a single blink, too afraid you’ll miss a part of the transformation. You’re mesmerized when you should be terrified.

“I can smell everyone you’ve whored around with,” he explains, growling his words out. “And… I can taste them. This won’t do, love.”

Jungkook takes a breath and dives back in, attacking your wound with the desire to consume your blood and cleanse you of whatever he feels is bad for you. Your eyes roll, and the more he takes the more lightheaded you become. You feel as if you’re floating, and nothing can bring you down but the man that’s holding you close and robbing you of your need for survival.

It’s easy to let yourself slip away, but you’ve been high before. You know your limits, so you tap Jungkook’s shoulder to get his attention. He’s also hit with the realization of how long he’s been drinking from you and extracts himself immediately.

His face is painted red when he pulls away, but he still looks amazing. Maybe even hotter. His swollen lips are so enticing. You want to taste them so bad.

“If only you knew how good you taste now,” he whispers, licking his lips while he stares at you.

You don’t respond with words. Instead, you reach and grab his face, stealing the moment you’ve been anticipating forever. Your eyes close naturally and you don’t stop yourself from getting lost in the moment.

The first taste that lands on your tongue is the bittersweet essence of your blood. You moan into his mouth, letting him know you understand what he meant now that you’re experiencing it as well.

Jungkook’s arms pull you closer to his body. You’re enveloped in his warmth and enjoying the way his hand gives your ass squeezes of appreciation. When he smoothly slips his long-wet muscle into your crevice, you finally get the opportunity to taste him like you wanted and he literally takes your breath away.

Eventually, you both become tempted to tear each other’s clothes off, but Jungkook stops everything before it can go there.

“Hold on, love,” he requests. “Before this can happen, you need to settle this.”

Your confused expression prompts him to tap the crucifix chain around your neck. He gives you a look, and you can tell where this is going.

“You can’t be mine if you’re wearing that, baby.”

Looking down at your necklace, you contemplate whether or not you want to get rid of the jewelry you’ve had since the tenth grade. Then your attention is redirected to Jungkook’s face, and he stands there waiting for your answer.

He lifts a brow, and without another thought, you snatch the chain from your neck and allow it to fall to the ground. The flash in Jungkook’s eyes gives away his thrill. However, he still isn’t satisfied with your decision.

“You hesitated,” he comments. “I don’t like that.”

“I just wanted to be sure,” you reply in a soft voice.

“You should have known by now, love… I want you, and there’s no doubt about it.”

Jungkook’s gentle touch grazes your cheek, and you want to melt right there. Your lashes flutter as he caresses your skin, but you open your eyes once he stops and lifts your chin.

“If you want my dick inside that box of yours, you gotta redeem yourself,” Jungkook informs.

“Anything you want,” you answer right away. You don’t even recognize your voice because of its raspiness. You can barely get out your words because it keeps fading out.

“Really?” he hums, and you respond with a nod.

“Anything.”

“Well, get on your knees and pray for it then,” he requests.

You don’t hesitate this time, and you don’t bat an eye as you drop to your knees.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, but the desire to please is stronger than anything you’re feeling. You want to do your best for him. You want to be the one he chooses, the one he calls his.

“Please, Jungkook.” Your hands come together in front of you as if you’re saying a prayer. You never take your eyes off of his face and Jungkook peers down at you with a look of approval. “I know I don’t deserve it, but please forgive me.”

He says nothing so you figure he isn’t convinced.

“I can be good, I promise. Let me prove it to you,” you beg, and you can see his features soften with interest.

“I hope you’re right,” he sighs, pulling his sweater over his head.

You’re greeted with his sculpted abs before anything, and it takes self-control not to lunge for him. You have to recover quickly from the shock of how defined they are because the next thing he removes is his pants and his boxers do nothing to hide what’s resting against his thigh.

“Don’t get scared now,” he jokes when he sees your wide eyes.

You blink a few times to pull yourself together, and what he said finally registers.

“I’m not scared,” you answer.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“We’ll see,” he winks.

Jungkook’s dick stands at attention once his boxers are pulled down. Instantly, your mouth begins to water, and crave his length. You don’t mind asking for it either.

“Can I?”

He nods when he approaches you, so you wrap your hand around his cock and are greeted by thick pulsing veins. You explore it by running your hands along it, arousing him in the process unknowingly. It’s not until you hear the first string of curses leave his lips do you understand how much this turns him on.

“I wanna spit on it,” you state out of nowhere, and when you look up at his shocked expression with a smirk. “And…choke on it.”

You begin jerking him off with a twist and pull motion, adding your other hand for extra coverage. You pause to let your saliva drip onto his shaft. He moans when you start lubricating, and those lewd sounds of wetness fill his ears.

You stare at him with doe eyes, and he almost loses it, still you taunt him some more.

“Can I, Jungkook?”

He growls. “Damn it, open your fucking mouth.”

You stick out your tongue, and Jungkook slides in with a screwed-up face. He’s surprised when you suck him in instead of allowing him to shove his cock inside of you himself. Your warmth invites him in and by the time he reaches the back of your throat his hands are locked behind your head, holding you in place because he wants to be buried inside of you as long as possible.

Your spit drips down your chin and onto your chest but you continue to lubricate his dick even though it’s already saturated with your saliva. While he relishes the feeling, you reach for his scrotum and give him a gentle massage while your mouth occupies his cock.

You moan around his length, letting him know you’re ready for your throat to be fucked.

“Ready?” he asks, and you give him the best audible response you’re capable of giving in this position.

Jungkook pulls out slowly and watches how his cock comes out covered in glistening. When he’s completely out, he grabs it and taps your face, getting his precum all over your nose and mouth. Your tongue chases his arousal, and a delightful hum travels from your throat when you have a taste.

“If you need air, tap my thigh,” are the only instructions he gives you before his cock is back inside your mouth, hitting your uvula repeatedly and triggering your gag reflex. Jungkook seems to enjoy the sound of you choking on his dick, so he intentionally thrusts deeper to hear more of the lewd noises.

Your hands hold onto his thighs for support because your head is spinning from the quickness of his movements. Your knees burn from the hot ground blistering your skin, but as people always say, “no pain, no gain.”

The pain isn’t as nearly as intense as the burning in your lungs or the taste of Jungkook’s warm juices drifting down your throat each time his cock squirts out a bit of his arousal. You swallow unintentionally, and Jungkook’s dick twitches with the need to release.

“Fuck! Take it easy,” he grunts, legs trembling as he struggles to keep it together. Looking up at his face, you see beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, and you know he’s too far gone to hold back. You swallow on purpose this time, and his cum begins to fill up your throat. But even when in his moment of euphoria, Jungkook still isn’t letting you off easy. “I told you to take it easy, slut.”

He pulls out of you abruptly and you start coughing as the air enters your lungs too quickly.

“Hand and knees,” he orders, pushing you towards the ground. You’re thankful your back is turned to hide the smirk on your face because you know it’d piss him off more.

You hear him shuffling behind you, probably removing the rest of his clothes because his belt hits the hard ground after a few seconds. His shadow approaches you from behind and blocks the light.

“And this has to come the fuck off,” he states while ripping off your dress. Your tights and panties are next to go, leaving you bare on the desert floor. His sharp talons crawl up your spine, and your body shivers in response. “Arch your back unless you want me to do it for you, love.”

You follow his orders, and he praises you for your ability to position your body perfectly to his preference. His hands can’t stop themselves from touching your globes. You can hear your arousal when he spreads your folds with his thumbs, looking into your opening with his mouth-watering. You bury your face in your arm because you’re sure he heard it too.

“Don’t be shy. I knew already,” he informs. Jungkook lowers his body, and his nose nuzzles itself in your slit, making you release a surprised gasp. He inhales your arousal and runs the tip of his nose up and down, covering it in your wetness. “I could smell you from down the road, baby.”

Jungkook switches up and uses his tongue to tease you. Your eyes roll back as soon as his muscle touches your sensitive clit.

“Jungkook,” you whine, but he’s too engaged with your pussy to hear.

“You taste as good as you smell. How can I not drink you dry?”

A cry gets caught in your throat. Jungkook begins to lick your pussy with no warning, emitting more lust-filled sobs from your mouth. As the sensitivity ebbs away, so does your shame, and eventually, you start grinding your cunt in Jungkook’s face. He doesn’t stop you, so your movements become more confident.

“That’s what you like, sweetheart?... You wanna fuck my tongue too?” Jungkook slurps up more of your juices before he spreads you open and taunts you with his forked tongue.

“Jungkook, please,” you beg.

He chuckles. “Well, since you asked nicely…”

When he enters your cunt, your mind goes blank. Whatever words you manage to utter are a mystery to you because your mind can only focus on the thick flexible muscle dragging against your walls.

Jungkook laughs when you clench, making it nearly impossible for him to move in your tight crevice. He squeezes your ass while his tongue squirms inside of you, making you scream his name over and over.

“Fuck! You feel good, Jungkook. I’m gonna—”

Suddenly, he withdraws.

“On my dick you will,” he says, and you groan as the disappointment sets in.

He straightens his back and inches closer while you continue to pout and mourn your robbed orgasm.

“If you thought that felt good…” he laughs. “Look, I’m just getting started, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”

Jungkook doesn’t give you a moment to be concerned. The tip of his cock pops in and your eyes widen. You become more alert and aware of how huge he actually is now that your pussy is slowly being stretched open by him. You’re tense, but his touch soothes you.

“Relax. Just relax,” he instructs.

He fills you inch by inch and the whole time your mouth is hanging wide open. You have a handful of dirt in each hand because you’ve been clawing to cope with the stretch. Nothing hurts but taking all of him in takes more effort than you anticipated.

Jungkook grunts as your walls squeeze around him. He’s also struggling, but he puts his eagerness aside and waits for you to adjust and mold to his girth.

“You can move,” you tell him, wanting to just get it over with.

“Are you sure—”

“Jungkook, you’re in my guts, please.”

“Okay, my bad.” He laughs but as soon as he begins to move his smile fades, and his concentration sets in.

Jungkook is gentle for as long as he can stand it, but even you grow desperate eventually. He senses that your body is craving more, and his pace quickens. His shallow thrusts travel deeper and become more powerful the longer he’s buried in your heat.

He grips your waist and starts fucking you like you’re a ragdoll. You’re taken aback but impressed by his strength. You stop trying to maintain your position because Jungkook has no problem bending you whichever way he wants you.

Soon his hand finds your ponytail. Your head jerks each time his hips crash into you. Your scalp begins to burn, but it doesn’t stop you from chasing your pleasure.

You cry Jungkook’s name when you feel a harsh slap against your ass.

“Fuck,” you sob.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” is all he replies as he delivers another blow. Your flesh prickles and stings from the impact, but the feeling of his hand palm delicately moving over the affected area feels pleasant. “Come here.”

Jungkook pulls you up with his clutch on your hair, and your back crashes against his firm chest. His cock travels deeper from this angle, leaving you babbling and sobbing as Jungkook watches with a smirk.

“I thought you were a bad girl. Now, look at you… Being a good little whore for me,” he teases. “Give me a kiss.”

You reach behind you and grab one of his horns, bringing him in for a sloppy kiss. You taste your arousal on his lips and greedily try to savor the leftover juices in his mouth. Your eyes are closed, but you can feel his furrowed brows against your forehead as he concentrates on delivering accurate thrusts. Jungkook whispers permission for you to come into your mouth, and your mind shifts to chasing your release.

He leaves your lips and moves to your neck while his hands glide over your body, stopping to feel his dick piercing your lower abdomen. Your other hand interlocks with his for a bit so that you can feel it as well, but soon you have to grab his arm, so he doesn’t pound you out of his grasp.

Jungkook slaps your tit once he’s made his journey up your body, and your pleased reaction causes him to do it again. The tension building up in your core starts to become unbearable, so you warn him in advance about your orgasm threatening to sweep you off your feet.

“I’m so close, Jungkook,” you rasp. His fingers pinch your nipples to push you closer while his arm keeps you up. Your body would slump over if he didn’t because all of your strength is put into getting yourself through this intense orgasm on the horizon. “You feel so good… So fucking good.”

“I know, love. I know,” he moans in your ear. “Come on my dick if you really love it so much, baby.”

The coil snaps as soon as his name leaves your lips, and your release finally arrives in an intense wave of pleasure. Your vision becomes white and your ears ring, making it impossible for you to hear Jungkook’s whines about your pussy being too tight for him to go much longer.

His dick slips out of you as the pressure releases, and you’re gushing all over the ground below, making the soil dark as it dampens. Jungkook brings his hand in front of you and slaps your pussy to draw out more of your juices.

You fall over once your body is spent, but Jungkook rolls you over before you can flop on your face. He hovers over you and rests his weight on his forearms. His knee wedges itself between your legs, and he uses it to spread them apart.

You lay there just staring at him through your lashes, secretly looking in awe as he situates himself. He catches you in the act, but you still turn away and pretend you weren’t.

“No, no. Don’t look away,” he says. “Let me see how you cry for my dick.”

You do as he requests, and once your eyes meet each other’s, he winks.

Jungkook grabs each of your wrists and pins them by your ears. He rests his forehead on yours, so you have no choice but to look at him.

You know you shouldn’t do it like this. It’s too intimate. But you can’t deny yourself the attention you’ve been craving for so long. Finally, his eyes are on you. Only you.

“No holding back, okay?” he suggests.

“Okay.”

You don’t know how he understood your voice since it’s barely audible and raspy, but he does. Jungkook reaches between you and grabs his dick, aligning it with your opening before he slowly slides in. Your lips part to let out a cry, but nothing comes out because your voice has given out completely.

As his dick gets deeper, you spread your legs to give him more space. His tip hits your cervix by the time he bottoms out, and you can’t bear him just stilling in that spot. When your back arches, he takes the hint and starts chasing his high.

“This is what you want, right?... Eyes on you?” he grunts, thrusting into you, each snap of his hips resulting in a ripple of echoes. “You got me now, so don’t be shy.”

“Jungkook.” You moan his name, and his cock jumps inside you.

“You felt that?... That’s what you do to me, love.”

He looks down, observing the way the blunt tip of his cock can be seen penetrating lower abdomen. Both of your mouths fall open while your eyes are glued to the sight, mesmerized by how much of him you’re actually taking in.

“This pussy was made for me and only me,” he growls. When you don’t answer him, he grabs your face to get your attention. “Did you fucking hear me? It’s mine, understand?”

You nod. “Only yours, Jungkook. I promise.”

Jungkook grunts in response, but you heard it as “it better be.” His thrusts become rougher, making your back drag against the ground. You’re both covered in dirt, sweat, and blood but can’t bring yourselves to care because the sex is so good.

Heat begins to rise within you. It confuses you so you look at the demon above you for answers, and he greets you with a devilish grin.

“You said you can handle me, didn’t you?” he reminds you.

“I can.” Your voice is hoarse, and your throat is dry.

Jungkook smirks. “Time to prove it.”

You pant as Jungkook drills into you, setting your body ablaze in the process. He pulls your legs up to his waist, so you wrap them around him in an embrace.

“What do you mean?”

He whispers against your lips.

“Welcome to hell, love.”

The scream that erupts from your throat brings your voice back to its full potential. Your body is on fire, and it leaves you gasping for air. His cock continues to bring you stimulation throughout the tortuous rise and fall of the radiating heat inside of you. Your nails drag down his back, drawing feral noises from his lips.

His dick feels like it’s swelling within you, stretching you more and more until you’re screaming his name and begging him to let you release some of the pressure.

“Jungkook,” you groan through clenched teeth.

“Shh. A little more, okay?... Just a little longer.”

Your eyes squeeze shut as you try to focus on anything but the desire burning in your gut. The intense heat becomes bearable, but the stretch still has you breathless.

“But I’m going to come,” you sob, your body no longer able to stand it.

Your walls enclose around his cock as you try to hold on, but the tightness milks Jungkook’s shaft and pushes him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he growls.

You both reach your peaks together, and the moment causes a pause in time. For several seconds, you’re unable to register what’s going on around you. Your mind is blank, and your focus is only on the pleasure rippling through your body.

You’re on fire, but it’s not unpleasant. You feel everything you’ve craved from all the drug use and drinking, the meaningless sex, and the dangerous lifestyle you ran to when you wanted nothing more than to feel secure and wanted.

That’s how you feel as his arms slip underneath you and embrace you, like you’re being protected by someone who actually gives a shit. It’s not real; he’s only caught in the moment, but you’re going to pretend like it is because that’s exactly what it feels like.

You hold onto the feeling for as long as you can, but nothing lasts forever, and soon you both begin to come down from your high.

Jungkook’s cum is still painting your walls when his body slumps over. He leaves lazy kisses across your chest but stops to gently suck on your nipples, soothing you until his dick softens and slips out of you.

In your post-orgasmic daze, you feel him kiss his way down your body. He ends his journey at your thighs and then rises to his feet, leaving you on the ground for a minute to regain some strength. His cum slowly leaks out of you, pooling beneath you and seeping into the soil.

You open your eyes after a few minutes and find him standing over you with his jeans already on although his sweater is still off. His eyes have returned to what is considered human-like. However, his horns remain present.

“You need help?” he asks rather dryly.

“Please,” you whisper, and he leans over to help you up. Once you’re on your feet you stand in front of him awkwardly, arms covering your body as if he hasn’t seen every inch of you. “So… Is this it?”

Jungkook’s eyes bulge as he cranes his neck in shock.

“You wanna die? Get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”

Oh.

You almost forgot about the talk you had with him before. Jungkook didn’t want to meet with you. He only wanted your soul.

Before leaving home, you’d probably give it to him willingly. You weren’t really living anyway.

But after traveling on the road and exploring new places, you’d like to stick around a little longer, see the world your parents told you to be afraid of but in the right ways this time.

Still, you didn’t think this encounter would end like this. Are you really supposed to just move on?

“Okay, well. Goodbye then, I guess. I should probably clean this anyway,” you reply and fake laugh. Your wound is pretty sore though, but tolerable. You’d bear it for a few more minutes if you had them.

He doesn’t say anything, but he nods instead.

You turn towards your car and take your exit. Almost halfway there, a pair of gentle hands grab your waist.

“Wait,” he says. His voice is so soft. If it weren’t so quiet, you wouldn’t have heard him. “You left something.”

When you turn around, Jungkook stands behind you with your chain in his palm.

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want it, but I’ll take it off your hands,” you say before giving him a small smile.

You take the jewelry and prepare to leave once more, but Jungkook interrupts you again.

“How come you’ve never been to a show?” he quizzes. “You say you’re a huge fan. I’ve never seen you at a show before.”

You sigh, resting your weight on your right side with folded arms.

“Well, I lived with my parents before I dropped everything and left a few days ago. They’re very religious and would never buy me a ticket to that type of event. I’ve been saving up, but now…”

“You need it to survive?”

You nod. “Exactly.”

Silence falls over you, and no one makes a move. You’re about to tell him you need to get dressed and hit the road before nightfall, but he beats you to it.

“I’ll get going now. I—”

“You wanna hear a song I’ve been working on?”

“Uhh…” You’re taken by surprise, but you’d be honored to hear anything he shares with you. “Sure, Jungkook. I’d love that.”

He gestures for you to follow him to his car. You start getting paranoid midway because about an hour ago he wanted to kill you. However when he reaches inside his car and pulls out a leather jacket for you to wear, your nerves start to settle.

“It’s going to cool down when the sun sets,” he informs.

Jungkook helps you put on the jacket, and you’re instantly met with his scent. While his back is turned, you secretly inhale deeply to savor the smell.

After he grabs his guitar, you both walk to the front of his vehicle and he helps you sit on the hood, making sure it isn’t too hot before you take a seat. You’re shocked by his sudden caring nature, but you don’t complain.

“Thank you,” you state after he hands you his flask.

You bring it to your lips and to take a gulp but are hit with a pungent smell of alcohol.

“It’s whiskey.”

“Fucking hell, it is,” you agree with a grimace. You decide to sip on it instead of aiding your thirst.

“I’m not human so I don’t have water,” he explains. “Sorry.”

“Oh no, this is fine,” you assure.

After a nod, he walks away and sits on a small boulder sitting about three feet away from his car. He gets settled and then his fingers begin to strum the strings of his guitar. The music sways him back and forth, and he allows it to guide him with closed eyes. Just as you’re also caught in the trance, he starts singing.

The voice that you hear isn’t paired with a loud audience or a band crashing in the background. It’s just him and the most graceful voice you’ve ever heard.

Tears form in your eyes hearing the lyrics. They’re so raw and filled with emotion, a side of him you’ve never seen before. He talks about how scary it is to feel. To care. To love. How he’s never experienced any of it before, but a part of him feels like it’s time to explore it.

You’re so moved by the final note that you’re startled when the music stops, and you no longer hear his voice. You dry your eyes and look at him with so much admiration.

The warm tones of the setting sun makes his skin appear to glow; he’s breathtaking. You wish that he knew that too.

“That was beautiful,” you tell him. “Thank you so much for sharing that with me.”

He sets down his instrument and walks over to you, situating himself between your thighs.

“You’re the only one I’ve shared it with,” he replies. His eyes and tone hold sincerity, and what you believe is gratitude. “Thanks for listening.”

“Of course, babe. I’d listen anytime. You’re such an inspiration to me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you answer truthfully.

Jungkook rests his hands on your thighs and looks off into the distance as if he’s thinking. You can see wheels turning in his head but have no idea how to get him to speak his mind. You’ll just have to wait, but not for long.

“I’ve never been human,” he starts, taking the flask and drinking all the liquor before he continues. “I used to not feel anything but now… I guess I should say you all have changed me.”

You don’t say anything, but you nod to let him know you’re listening.

“In case you didn’t get that, I’m trying to say that I have feelings for you. You’ve grown on me,” he adds, and your mouth falls open to speak.

However, nothing comes out.

“I know you just wanted to fuck me and get a few pictures, but I couldn’t let you leave without—”

You interrupt him by pulling him close and crashing your lips into his. You couldn’t take it anymore. You knew if anything was going to happen, you’d have to be the one who took initiative. Jungkook’s probably never had anyone who truly cared about him. You plan to show him what that feels like.

You retract and look at him, saying what’s been on your mind since you saw him.

“I think you’re amazing and talented…and beautiful. You deserve love or whatever it is you desire because you inspire so many to know their worth. It’s your turn to take your advice.”

“Hit the road with me,” he blurts out.

You blink. “What?”

“Hit the road with me, let me learn everything about you… Be mine. That’s what I desire.”

Your mind races as his words play in the back of your head. You’re speechless. Jungkook, a demon and the world’s biggest rockstar, just asked for permission to take you on a journey with him. You don’t know his motives or his plan, but the hopefulness in his eyes tell you he put a lot on the line asking that of you.

“It’s just that I want you to be cautious out there because I care about you…I think?” he tries to explain. “I just want to make sure you’re safe and I can only do that if…”

“I’m with you.”

“Yeah,” he smiles, eyes brighter than the sun. “So what do you say?”

You shrug. “Let’s go.”

“What?”

You push him and hop off the car with a shriek, almost busting your ass.

“I said let’s go, Jungkook!... Before I change my mind,” you wink.

The demon seems shocked by your answer, but he keeps his promise.

And…he takes you on a trip of a lifetime.

Epilogue…

“I knew I couldn’t trust you.”

Jungkook stands in the doorframe of his backstage dressing room with folded arms. He’s angry with you, but as soon as his eyes land on your hand caressing your growing belly, he can’t stop his smile from breaking free.

He sighs and shakes his head, walking across the room to his vanity where you sit waiting for him. This is the first time you’ve had to sit out on a tour since you officially became a couple, and needless to say the downtime has gotten the best of you.

“You’re supposed to be at home with your feet up,” he chides, helping you stand even though you’re perfectly capable of doing so yourself.

Jungkook has pampered you all six months of this pregnancy, but sometimes he goes to the extreme.

“Yeah, but…”

You pause when he pulls you in for a warm hug and take the opportunity to inhale the fragrance lingering on his clothes. You giggle when he playfully threatens you about stealing his clothes, but you’ve already tucked a t-shirt in your purse.

“I'd rather be here with my legs up, you know?” you continue saying as you separate.

Jungkook’s eyes widen for a fraction of a second, but then his shock is replaced with a tiny smirk.

“You better be careful what you wish for, love,” Jungkook warns.

“And what if I don’t?... Will I be punished?”

Your taunting causes his grin to fade. In a split second, you’re lying on the couch with Jungkook hovering over you. He carefully leans in for a kiss, being extra cautious of your stomach.

“I can hear his heartbeat,” he says in between kisses, shifting so he can place his hand on your stomach.

“You mean her heartbeat?” you correct.

Your baby’s foot finds his palm instantly, and Jungkook’s mood brightens even more.

“Yeah, the jury’s still out on that one.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” he chuckles, lifting your shirt and finding the waistband of your leggings.

His fingers trace the fabric before he ultimately slips his hand inside, moving aside your panties next. You grab his arm when his fingers touch your center, alerting him of your sensitivity. He takes it slow and waits for the feeling to become less intense.

“I missed you,” he whispers. “Both of you.”

“We missed you too, daddy.”

Jungkook leaves a kiss on your cheek, and then he moves to your neck, tracing the barely visible scar that his talon left on your skin.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs.

Jungkook’s changed a lot since the day you met him. Emotions and feelings he’s never had have revealed themselves over time. It was scary for him at first, but now, he’s not afraid to let you know what he’s feeling.

You laugh at him through your sighs of pleasure. “You’re getting soft on me, I see.”

“You think so?” he asks.

“I know, and besides… You’re sorry for that and not putting me on lockdown for nine months?”

“But this is your fault,” he insists, smiling against your skin.

“Really? Don’t you remember what you said when I told you I was ovulating?”

He denies, so you grab his hair and force him to look at you.

“Just the tip, love… You feel so good. I can’t pull out tonight.”

He doesn’t respond because he knows you’ve made your point. Your moans fill the room when he applies pressure to your clit without warning.

“Jungkook, your fingers are freezing!”

“Warm them up then, love—”

“Dude, we’ve been looking all over for you. You’re on stage in 5,” Jungkook’s manager, Billy, says after bursting through the door. He’s unaware of what he interrupted until he peers over and sees you both on the couch. “I am so sorry.”

Jungkook’s eyes become pitch black, and an angry vein protrudes from his forehead. You already know what’s about to happen, so you do your best to calm him down.

“Be nice, baby,” you plead.

Everyone always says you have Jungkook wrapped around your finger, so now and then, you like to pull your “status card.”

He takes a deep breath, and he relaxes. But only for a moment.

“Well, I’m kind of busy. If you haven’t noticed,” he answers, looking at the older male.

Jungkook’s digits continue to stimulate you, but you know it’s only to suppress his anger. His biggest pet peeve is to be interrupted when he’s in the middle of something with you.

He returns his attention to you and gives you a wink, but a second later, his joy fades.

“I understand, but what do I tell the fans—”

“You’ll tell them I’m backstage fucking my pregnant wife, and that I’ll be out in a bit. I’m sure they’ll understand,” he seethes, making your face heat up. However, your cunt still clenches everytime he uses the “W”-word. “Okay, leave!”

Billy shuffles his way out of the door and closes it behind him, leaving you and Jungkook alone again. When he turns to you again, you can see why his manager ran.

“Someone’s horny,” you joke.

“Tell me about it… Where did we leave off?” His fingers move down to your entrance, and he slowly slips one of them in. “Oh, yeah. Squeeze my fingers like you just did and warm them up for me.”

Your body wants you to just lie there and let him finger you until you’re coming all over his digits, but every ounce of brat in you wants to make him suffer.

“What if I rather keep something else warm?” you suggest with a smug expression.

“Hm, like what?”

You reach between you and unbutton his jeans. You pull him closer and bite his earlobe before saying,

“Recite your commandments and I might show you.”

Jungkook gulps.

“I shall place no other God before you….”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #k-vanity #kbucketlist #bangtanbathhouse #btsdreamcourt #bangtansorciere #bts fanfics #jungkook fanfic #bts imagines #sugakookitty

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holylulusworld · 9 months

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Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Like in 2019, 2020, 2021 & 2022, I will post a kinky, fluffy, angsty or scary one-shot from October 1st till October 31st, 2023.

Please consider none of the stories are available until the set release date. Titles may change (all titles are working titles until the release date.). The release date may change at any time.

ANGST/SMUT/FLUFF

October 1st: Forbidden Lust (2) sequel to Forbidden Lust

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Homewrecker kink

Requested by: @jayyyyyyy-stuff

October 2nd: Rekindle

Pairing: Chubby!Thor Odinson x Exgirlfriend!Reader

Trope: Reunion

October 3rd: Very tight places sequel to Cramped & Tight places

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader

Kink: Claustrophilia

October 4th: Footloose

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers

October 5th: Serve your Soldier

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader

Kink: Collars

October 6th: Falling leaves

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Trope: Sunny vs grumpy

October 7th: Blaze of glory

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Kink: Glad-to-Be-Alive Sex/Victory sex

October 8th: Two Bikes (1)

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader; Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Angst

October 9th: Golden Retriever

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader

Kink: Crops / Spanking

Idea by: anon

October 10th: One autumn night

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Trope: a/b/o

Idea by: anon

October 11th: I'm the best

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Kink: Breeding kink

Idea by: anon

October 12th: Breathless sequel to Take my breath away

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Secret crush

October 13th: One Summer night

Pairing: Cultleader!Thor Odinson

Kink: Sex Cult

October 14th: Snuggle time

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Plussized!Reader

Trope: Cuddling & snuggling

Idea by: anon

October 15th: The cabin in the woods

Pairing: Winter Soldier x fem!Reader

Kink/Trope: Choking

October 16th: Not in my car

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Love confessions

Requested by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 17th: Backpack

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Kink: Thigh riding

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 18th: Sex you up

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Chubby!Reader

Kink: Size kink

Idea by: @sultryfandoms

October 19th: Fulfilment

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Pregnancy

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 20th: Triad (1)

Pairing: Omega!Stucky x Alpha!Reader

Kink: Dom / Sub

Idea by: anon

October 21st: Autumnal love

Pairing: Thor Odinson x fem!Reader

Trope: Carving pumpkins

Idea by: anon

October 22nd: Unwanted Mate (Bucky's version)

Pairing: Alpha!Stucky x Omega!Reader

Kink: Threesome

October 23rd: Rescue you

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Trope: Rescue romance

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 24th: Right there

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Kink: Pegging

Idea by: @flory-alexandra

October 25th: Deepest love

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Friends to lovers

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 26th: Demon knife

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Friends to enemies

October 27th: Sunrise sequel to Beyond the soldier & After the eclipse

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink/Trope: Quirofilia/Nursed Back to Health

Requested by: @clarinette07

October 28th: Naughty School Adventures (1)

Pairing: Janitor!Sam Winchester x Teacher!Reader x Gymteacher!Dean Winchester

Kink: Cucking

Idea by: @moosekateer13

October 29th: Unwanted Mate (Steve's version)

Pairing: Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Trope: Unrequited feelings

October 30th: Taped on video

Pairing: J3 x fem!Reader

Kink: BDSM

Requested by @moosekateer13

Halloween Specials: ANGST/SMUT/HORROR

October 31st: The past always catches up

Pairing: Winter Soldier x former Hydra!(fem) Reader

Trope: Villain Reader

October 31st: Dreams of sharp teeth

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Werewolf!August Walker

Trope: Monster AU

Find all other Bingos and Special Events here: Special Events

#dean winchester #sam winchester #steve rogers #bucky barnes #marvel #supernatural #kinktober 2023 #flufftober 2023 #angstober 2023

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girls-alias · 5 months

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Sam Fics:

Sam's Year:

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Break:

Part 1 - Part 2

Oneshots:

Contact - Fluff. X Reader simply needs a hug.

Best friend - X Reader. You're friends but there could be more.

Hate - Sam hates himself for letting you go.

Beaten - He saves you from a demon and takes a beating for you.

Explaining - You're dating and want the real reason he comes home beaten and bruised.

Revenge - Sam seeks revenge on the demon that killed you.

Memory Lane - The reader has a nightmare, and Sam stays with her to help her sleep.

Embarrassment - Sam experiences something embarrassing so she tells an embarrassing story she had to make him feel better.

Liquid Courage - After a bad day you go drinking, and with liquid courage, you approach Sam.

Bookworm - You're a researcher and fall in love with Sam but now he actually wants to meet you in person.

Sisterhood - Sam and Deans 10 year old sister has a nightmare.

Smut:

Soulless Fun - He's soulless and DOM.

Soulless Smut - soulless Sam takes you home from the bar.

#sam winchester #fanfiction #fanfic #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #sam #the winchester brothers #sam smut

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fatecantstopme · 2 months

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What I'd Give

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: When Dean is gravely injured on a hunt, (Y/N) makes a deal to save him--a deal that might just cost her everything.

Warnings: canon violence, swearing, mentions of death/dying. SMUT, dom/sub vibes, choking kink, overstimulation, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V)

You screamed helplessly as you watched your best friend and fellow hunter be thrown from the window across the room. You'd just managed to stab the demon you were fighting a mere second before you heard the breaking of glass.

You yanked the angel blade out of the demon's chest and ran straight towards the demon who'd just tossed your friend out the window. You stabbed the demon in the back, bringing an end to the fight.

You looked out the window and saw the horrific scene three stories down. Your heart clenched in your chest as you raced to the stairs, making it outside in record time.

"Dean!" you cried as you reached his broken body. "No, no, no, no..."

You were almost afraid to touch him--afraid to search for a pulse and not find one. You exhaled sharply and pulled yourself together, placing a firm hand against his neck. You could feel a very weak pulse beneath your fingertips and you knew he was in trouble.

The fall had certainly broken some bones and he likely had internal injuries of some kind. The glass from the window had sliced his skin in a million places, and you were worried he would have severe head trauma as well.

Normally, you would call out to Castiel and he would come running to save Dean, but this wasn't a normal day. Cas had been missing in action for weeks, and neither you nor the Winchesters knew where he was.

Dean's safety--his survival--depended solely on you. The two of you had been hunting alone, while Sam was out helping Garth on a different hunt. You'd hunted together countless times, but neither of you had ever been this seriously injured.

You knew he was dying--as surely as if there was a neon sign screaming "death!" above his head. You couldn't stand the thought of losing him, so you made a decision that would change your life.

"Anyone who's listening, I need your help," you called out. "Please...I will do anything...just save him."

You waited in silence for a few moments, hoping against hope someone would hear your call and take pity on you. You weren't exactly on good terms with most angels, but you couldn't help but hope at least one of them would care.

You heard the soft flap of wings that always signaled the arrival of an angel and you looked up hopefully. You inhaled sharply when your eyes met the glowing red eyes of the man who had come to rescue you--or should you say, archangel.

"Well hello, (Y/N). It's nice to see you again."

"Lucifer," you hissed lowly.

"In the flesh!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I heard your call," he said simply. "And well, let's be honest, no one else is coming to help you."

"Did you come here to gloat?"

"Of course not. Even I'm not cruel enough to find joy in the death of Dean Winchester."

"Then why did you come?"

"To save him, obviously."

Surprise lit up your face. Out of all the responses you'd expected, that hadn't been on the list. "Pardon?"

Lucifer smiled darkly. "For a small fee, of course."

"Ahh," you acknowledged. "That sounds more like it. What do you want?"

"Nothing too extravagant."

"Lucifer..." you growled.

"As you can see, this vessel isn't doing so well." He gestured to himself and you had to admit, he looked like absolute shit. "In fact, it's dying...which means I'm in need of a new one."

"Absolutely not," you said instantly. "He would never say yes to you."

Lucifer smirked. "I wasn't referring to him."

Your eyes widened. "I'm not an archangel vessel," you whispered.

"No, but you are a vessel. And I think you're strong enough to contain me long enough to find me a better one."

You swallowed thickly. There was no way you were going to agree to this...you knew what being an archangel's vessel would do to you and you weren't exactly interested in being strapped to a nuclear bomb.

"No," you said firmly.

"Suit yourself," he said with a shrug. "But just remember, Dean's death will be on your hands now."

You exhaled in defeat as you looked down at the man in your arms. You knew he was close to death--no hospital would be able to save him. Lucifer was your only option.

"Save him first," you whispered.

Lucifer smirked, knowing he'd won. "I would, (Y/N), but this vessel is simply too weak. I would need your body in order to save him."

You looked up into his dark eyes and considered his words. "I don't trust you."

"You would be a fool to trust me after all we've been through. However, I need you...and I need Dean alive and well to help me find an archangel vessel. Possessing you is a good motivator for him."

You clenched your jaw as you thought about your options. It took you mere moments to realize you didn't have any. You would rather die than allow Dean to...so your decision was made in an instant.

"Fine," you murmured softly. You looked up at the monster standing before you and exhaled slowly. "Yes," you breathed.

Lucifer wasted no time--immediately exiting his vessel and entering your body, taking over in an instant.

It was painful, feeling his energy within you, and you knew with absolute certainty you wouldn't be surviving this--no way in hell.

To your surprise, you were fully aware of everything happening around you. You could still see and hear--but you had no control over your body in any way.

Lucifer--you--reached out to Dean and touched him. Your palms began to glow and you watched the various wounds on his body heal quickly. His bright green eyes slowly blinked open and he looked up at you in surprise and confusion.

"What happened?" he groaned.

"You got tossed out a window," your voice said, though it was not you speaking.

Dean sat up and rubbed at his head. He looked down at himself, clearly surprised by his lack of serious injuries. "I fell three stories down..."

You nodded.

"How am I not dead?"

You felt your lips curl into a smile--a slightly cruel smile you knew was not your own. "You're welcome."

Dean's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

Unbeknownst to you, your eyes began to glow red, alerting Dean to the presence of someone else in your body--and there was only one creature you knew whose eyes glowed red.

"Lucifer?" Dean yelled angrily.

"The one and only," he replied.

"How the hell...why are you...where's (Y/N)?"

"Oh she's right here," he said with a smile, tapping the side of your head. "Watching and listening like a little creep."

"Well it is my head, you asshole," you mumbled.

"Doesn't mean it's not creepy," Lucifer's voice hissed inside your mind.

You didn't like the idea that Lucifer could hear your thoughts and speak to you like that...and it made you wonder what else he could see within your mind.

"Everything," he teased darkly.

"Fuck."

"Get the hell out of her body," Dean growled.

"Not a chance, buck-o. (Y/N) was kind enough to invite me in, so I think I'll stay a while."

Dean pulled an angel blade out of his back pocket and pointed it at you. You knew he would never use it if it meant killing you too. It was an idle threat and Lucifer knew it.

Lucifer simply laughed. "You're not going to use that, so put it away."

"Get out of her and I won't have to."

"Oh please, you won't kill her."

Dean's expression remained impassive, but you could see his resolve waning. You knew him too well to miss the small tells. Unfortunately, that meant Lucifer knew him just as well.

"Let's make this easy on ourselves," he began. "Everything (Y/N) knows, I know. Every memory, every thought, every feeling, everything. So put the damn blade down before I have to break your arm."

You could see the anger on Dean's face, but he lowered the blade and slipped it back inside his jacket. "Why the hell did she invite you in?"

"You were about 5 minutes from death and she couldn't save you."

"So what, she called out to you?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"She called out to everyone...I'm just the only one who responded." You felt your eyes glance around in slight concern. "Speaking of, we should probably get out of here, just in case."

Dean nodded and lead the way to the Impala, which was parked a short distance away. You got into the passenger seat like usual and you saw Dean tense up at your proximity. He clearly didn't like the idea of the Devil riding shotgun.

"So why did you heal me?"

"I need your help," Lucifer admitted.

"What makes you think I'd ever help you?"

"I knew you wouldn't, which is why I convinced (Y/N) to let me have her body for a little while."

"Convinced?"

"I may have told her a little white lie--that my old vessel was too weak for me to save you. She didn't exactly offer herself up, but she didn't fight very hard when she realized I was her only option."

"You slimy son of a bitch," you growled.

"I'm the devil, (Y/N). What did you expect?"

"You son of a bitch," Dean mumbled, echoing your sentiments. "What exactly do you want from me?"

"I need to find an actual archangel vessel. I'm getting tired of jumping from vessel to vessel...they keep burning out. It's rather tiresome."

"Well you're not touching Sam, or me for that matter."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he insisted. "I know there are others out there, but I need someone with your connections to help me locate one."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "My connections?"

"Well, Bobby Singer's connections, really...but the best way to him is through you, and the best way to you is through her."

Dean exhaled angrily. You knew he was mad at you just as much as he was mad at Lucifer. You were surprised he hadn't given you an earful yet, even with Lucifer listening in.

"Fine," Dean grumbled. "But the moment we find you a vessel, I want you out of her body. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly," Lucifer answered.

"Now just sit there quietly until we get to Bobby's, understand? I want absolute silence."

"Well that's boring--"

"I can't stand hearing you speak with her voice, okay? So shut up."

Lucifer smirked, but fell silent, deciding instead to annoy you.

"He's mad at you, isn't he?"

"I said yes to you...of course he's mad."

"Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"How you feel about him?"

"I would really like you to shut the hell up now, Lucifer," you hissed.

"But I'm so bored," he whined.

"I don't give a damn and neither does Dean. It's about 2 hours to Bobby's place...can you be silent for 2 hours?"

"Fine," he grumbled. "It'll give me more time to dig around in your brain anyway..."

"Shit--no!"

You tried to shut him out of your mind as best as you could, but you could still feel him rooting around in your head...making himself at home and digging into memories and thoughts and feelings that were never meant to be shared with another soul.

**********

"What an unsightly place," Lucifer grumbled as he--you--followed Dean up the stairs to Bobby's door.

Dean shot an annoyed glare in your direction, but didn't comment.

"Bobby!" he called as he entered the house.

Bobby came into view and offered you both a tired smile. "Hey you two. What brings you to Sioux Falls?"

"We were close by on a hunt and now we need your help," Dean answered.

"Sure. Come on in."

Neither you, nor Lucifer, had said a word of greeting to Bobby, which struck the older man as odd.

"You alright, (Y/N)?"

"Oh I'm just peachy," your voice answered.

Bobby's eyes narrowed at you, immediately noticing your voice was off. Besides, you didn't tend to talk to Bobby like that.

Before Bobby could question you, Dean spoke up. "We need to find an archangel vessel...as fast as possible."

Bobby stared at him for a moment. "Dean, you are an archangel vessel."

"Yeah, well I need one to house the devil--and it ain't gonna be me or Sam."

"Why the hell do you need a vessel for Lucifer?"

Your hand reached out and tapped Bobby on the shoulder. Judging by Bobby's shocked expression, you assumed your eyes were once again glowing red. Bobby quickly took a step back, looking between you and Dean in confusion.

"It's a long story," Dean muttered. "But I don't want him riding shotgun in (Y/N)'s head any longer than necessary, so we need to find him another vessel."

"Preferably before this current one starts to rot from the inside out," Lucifer added.

"Seriously, Lucifer?"

"Well that is essentially what happens, you know. I wouldn't want to damage such a pretty face."

"Oh fuck off," you grumbled.

"Why in god's name would she say yes to you?" Bobby asked angrily.

"To save my life, okay?" Dean snapped. "Look--we don't have time for this. I need your help to find another vessel. Please."

Bobby sighed and crossed the room to his desk, which was covered in books and papers--an organizational system only Bobby understood. He eyed you warily, but he didn't comment on the situation further.

"I assume you know how to find an archangel vessel," Lucifer commented.

"Perhaps you could enlighten me," Bobby responded.

Lucifer sighed and began to tell Bobby what he needed to look for. You ignored the words coming from our own mouth, instead focusing on Dean. You could see how upset he was and it made you feel incredibly foolish. You hated seeing him like this, but you didn't regret your decision. The mere fact he was alive to be angry made this whole thing worth it.

"How long do you think it'll take?" Dean asked, interrupting your thoughts.

"A week or two--maybe a little more," Bobby answered.

Dean looked in your direction, eyeing you with concern. "Will (Y/N) last that long?"

"Might wanna keep it closer to two weeks," Lucifer replied.

"You're lying, aren't you?" you asked quietly.

"Do you want me to tell them the truth?"

You sighed internally. "I think Dean deserves to know."

"A week would be even better," Lucifer said aloud.

Dean stared at you, worry deepening the lines on his face. His gaze traced your face, searching for any signs of deception--or maybe signs of damage.

"Well then," Bobby muttered. "Better get started."

**********

You sat in the corner, feet up on another chair as you watched Dean and Bobby. You could tell both of them were extremely worried, but their focus was on finding another vessel. They didn't have time to dive into their fears for your life.

Lucifer, on the other hand, seemed to think he had all the time in the world. He was quite happy to torture you instead of providing the two hunters with any assistance.

"Why haven't you told Dean?" he asked for what had to be the 1,000th time.

"There's nothing to tell, Lucifer. Would you just back off?"

"You're really no fun, you know that?"

"Good. This isn't supposed to be fun for you."

"I can make it fun."

"I'd really rather you not."

"Too late!" he said gleefully.

You could feel him poking around inside your head again, searching for something he could use to hurt you with--or hurt Dean with. You tried to keep him away from your darkest secrets, from the things you'd never shared with another soul, not even Dean. But you noticed it was getting harder and harder to resist him. You weren't sure if it was because he was so strong or if you were becoming weaker. Either way, it was only a matter of time before Lucifer found something he shouldn't.

Unfortunately for you, that moment came much sooner than you'd anticipated.

"(Y/N)--fuck, I mean Lucifer...can I talk to you outside for a moment?" Dean asked suddenly, rising from his chair and heading outside without waiting for a reply.

"Well this should be fun," you mumbled internally.

"I assure you," Lucifer mocked. "It will be."

You felt your body moving, feet heading after Dean whether you wanted to or not.

Once outside, Dean turned to face you, eyes filled with a multitude of emotions you couldn't stand to see. "I want to talk to (Y/N)."

"Oh come now," Lucifer said. "You know that's not how it works."

"I know you can shut up and take a backseat. So that's what I want."

"Hmm..." Lucifer hummed thoughtfully. "You know, I'd rather not. Besides, (Y/N) doesn't really feel like talking to you right now."

"Fuck you, Lucifer. Let me talk to him!"

"Sorry, sweetheart. Ain't happening."

"Somehow I doubt that," Dean grumbled angrily.

"You can doubt it all you want, but I'm the one physically inside her head. I know what she's thinking and let me tell you, it's not very complimentary of you."

"What?" Dean asked in surprised confusion.

"You have no idea what she really thinks of you, do you?"

"Lucifer, what the hell are you doing?" you growled.

He ignored you, instead focusing on his conversation with Dean.

"She's my best friend," Dean responded. "What more do I need to know?"

Lucifer laughed cruelly. "I'm sorry, that's just too funny. You think she's your best friend?"

You could see the look of hurt cross Dean's face for a moment, but he quickly covered it up.

"Sorry," Lucifer said, laughter subsiding. "It's just hilarious that you think she cares about you that much."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"She's tired of you, Dean. She's tired of your stubbornness, your self-loathing, your reckless behavior. She's tired of everything to do with you. She doesn't care about you--not really, anyway. You annoy the shit out of her, but she puts up with you because she feels like she has to."

You fought with everything you had to overpower Lucifer and take control of your mind and body. Not a single word Lucifer was uttering was true and you desperately wanted to tell Dean the truth.

"Stop fighting, (Y/N). You can't win," Lucifer whispered.

"Stop lying to him and I'll stop fighting," you insisted.

"No. I'm simply having too much fun."

Dean's face was impassive to the average person, but you saw through the mask on his face, and so did Lucifer. "I don't believe you," Dean said softly.

"You don't have to believe me. They're not my words. I'm simply relaying (Y/N)'s thoughts," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Haven't you ever wondered how she puts up with all your shit? You're not exactly walking sunshine, Dean. You're one of the most damaged humans I've ever met."

Dean inhaled deeply. "If she hates me so much, why does she stay?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Neither you nor Dean knew what Lucifer was going to say next...and his words cut deeper than you'd expected them to.

"She's in love with your brother," Lucifer sneered.

"Lucifer, no!" you screamed.

Dean's eyes widened and shock settled onto his face. He turned around, his back to you in an attempt to collect himself.

You fought even harder...you needed to get this son of a bitch out of your body. It felt like you were locked inside your own mind with no way out. Lucifer was too strong and the harder you fought, the weaker you became. You quickly realized the more energy you expended, the stronger he became...there was no use in fighting him.

"You're a monster," you whispered.

"They call me the devil for a reason.'"

You didn't bother responding to him. Your heart was aching for Dean and all you wanted was to comfort him. You knew exactly where his head would be at right now and it was killing you.

He'd always compared himself to Sam--at least as long as you'd known him. He seemed to think Sam was better than him in a lot of ways and certainly more lovable. The mere idea that you agreed with that sentiment...that you loved Sam...it would break him and you knew it.

"Sam is better than you in every way," Lucifer added, stoking the fire. "Why would anyone love you when they could have Sam? He's everything you're not...sure of himself, confident, open and honest. Sam is better for (Y/N) than you could ever be."

Dean turned back around, face a mask of impassiveness once again. "Let's find you a vessel so you can get the hell out of our lives," he said in a low voice. "Besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of Sam and (Y/N)'s love."

If you'd been capable of crying, you knew the tears would be streaming down your face in that moment. Your heart ached in a way you were unfamiliar with and you hoped Lucifer could feel the pain the same way you did.

"Why?" you whispered.

"Why what?"

"Why'd you say that to him?"

Lucifer laughed. "Simple...I knew it would hurt both of you. You're in love with him and if his reaction was anything to go by, it looks like he feels the same."

"We're both helping you right now. Why can't you just be grateful for 10 fucking minutes?" you hissed.

"Where's the fun in that?"

You knew the question was rhetorical, so you didn't bother responding. Instead, you quietly watched Dean walk away and you knew he was going to lose his shit. You could feel it as clearly as your own emotions.

"Let's follow him," Lucifer said happily.

"Let him take his anger out without an audience," you snapped.

Lucifer ignored you and quietly followed after Dean, keeping a distance to avoid being noticed.

Once Dean was farther away from the house and seemingly alone, he grabbed a crowbar from a nearby bench and began to beat the ever-loving-shit out of a junker car.

If you'd wondered about Dean's feelings for you before (and you had), you didn't wonder anymore. It was clear he cared about you in the same way you cared about him and you hated seeing him in such pain.

You wanted nothing more than to go to him, but Lucifer was much happier standing to the side and watching Dean suffer alone.

"Please," you whispered.

"You can tell him I'm a lying bastard if you manage to survive this."

"You and I both know that's not likely," you sighed quietly. "I don't want him to suffer and I don't want to die with him thinking I hate him."

"Pity. Guess you should have told him sooner..."

"Oh fuck off, Lucifer," you growled.

Lucifer's laughter echoed in your head and you hated him in that moment more than you could even begin to express.

**********

"You alright kid?" Bobby asked Dean when he returned to the house an hour or so later.

Lucifer, and therefore you, had returned shortly after watching Dean fall apart. When he'd dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his face, Lucifer had gotten bored and left.

"I'm fine," Dean lied. "Do you have any leads?"

"I've put out my feelers to every person I could think of. I'm sure someone will have something for me soon."

"Did you call Sam?"

Bobby shook his head. "I assumed you did."

"Call him and let him know what's going on. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?"

"Yeah, Dean," Lucifer chimed in, "where are you going?"

"The nearest bar. Don't wait up."

You tried to say his name, but your mouth refused to form the word.

As soon as Dean was out of earshot, Bobby turned his attention to you. "What the hell did you say to him?"

"Me?" Lucifer asked, feigning innocence. "Why would you think I did something?"

"Maybe because you're the devil?" Bobby answered sarcastically.

Lucifer smirked darkly. "I may have poked at all of his insecurities."

Bobby groaned. "You're a son of a bitch, you know that?"

"That's not a nice thing to say about my Father."

Bobby just glared at you and rolled his eyes. He got up and left the room and you assumed he was going to call Sam.

"I second Bobby's comment."

"I wear it like a badge of honor."

You knew exactly what Dean was going to do and it was killing you. He was going to drink until he couldn't feel a thing, pick up some random girl, and fuck her senseless--anything to feel something other than the ache in his chest. You knew him better than he knew himself...but in this moment, you desperately wished you didn't. You would give anything to not know what he was going to do.

**********

Three days later, one of Bobby's sources had a lead on a potential archangel vessel.

Dean hadn't spoken to you or Lucifer unless he absolutely had to. It was too hard to even look at your face and hearing your voice was a thousand times worse.

Sam was still out on a hunt with Garth, but he promised to be there to help as soon as he could.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Bobby asked Dean as the two of you were preparing to leave.

"The less people involved, the better. Stay here in case we need more intel," Dean responded.

"I don't like the idea of you traveling alone with Lucifer."

"I'll be fine."

Bobby didn't believe him anymore than you did, but neither of you commented on it--not that you could have if you'd wanted to.

As you/Lucifer and Dean climbed into the Impala, Dean didn't spare a glance in your direction.

"Isn't this fun?" Lucifer asked. "I've always wanted to go on a roadtrip."

Dean groaned. "What are the chances you'll be quiet during this drive?"

"Slim to none," Lucifer said with a smirk.

The response almost made Dean smile. It sounded like something you would say and technically it was your voice. He had to remind himself you weren't really talking to him--every word out of your mouth was Lucifer.

Dean took off without another word and you silently prayed this lead would pan out. You were extremely tired and it had only been about four days since Lucifer had possessed you.

By this point, you were having a hard time focusing on what was happening in the real world. You were in pain and you could feel your body weakening...you were dying and you knew it. You just hoped Dean didn't notice.

**********

By the time the three of you arrived at your destination, you were feeling terrible. You weren't even sure how much time had passed since you'd left Bobby's. In fact, you were pretty sure you'd fallen asleep very early on.

"It's been about 12 hours," Lucifer told you.

"I slept for 12 hours?"

"You're dying," he said nonchalantly. "So you're going to have a harder time staying awake."

"Great," you whispered sarcastically.

"Lucifer!" Dean growled. "You coming?"

"Of course."

Lucifer followed Dean into a building you assumed was an apartment complex. Sometime during the elevator ride, you must have fallen unconscious again, because when you opened your eyes again, you found yourself standing in a nice apartment.

Dean was talking calmly to a young man who looked moderately terrified.

"Is he the vessel?" you mumbled.

"Yes. I can feel it," Lucifer responded.

"Thank god..."

"I'm sorry, you want me to allow the literal devil to possess me?" the young man practically yelled at Dean. "That's assuming I even believe in the devil."

"Look man," Dean said with surprising calmness. "I know I sound insane, but it's all real. We need an archangel vessel and like it or not, that's you."

"What if I don't want to say yes?"

Dean grabbed him by his collar. "Then the woman he's currently wearing will die...and I will do anything to prevent that." His voice was low, barely above a growl.

The young man looked terrified, eyes wide with fear. "Are you threatening me?" he whispered.

Dean straightened out the guy's shirt and gave him a dark smile. "Of course not."

"So I have a choice?"

Lucifer chuckled. "Don't think for a moment he'll give you an option, kid."

The guy looked at you and you felt terrible for him. You understood his fear and apprehension...and it felt wrong to force Lucifer onto him. This kid didn't deserve it.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you mumbled.

"Too late, (Y/N). Dean knows he's an archangel vessel. There's no way he's going to leave without getting him to say yes."

You wanted to respond--to fight, but you couldn't. You were too weak...too tired. Everything hurt too much.

"What's it like?" the guy asked softly.

"Like being strapped to a rocket," Lucifer said snidely.

Dean shot him an annoyed glance. "You'll be fine. You were meant for this."

The guy's gaze remained fixated on you. "She looks like shit...am I going to look like that?"

Dean finally focused his gaze on your face and you saw the fear flash in his eyes. He could see you were dying. Your skin was pale, your eyes bloodshot, dark circles adorning them...your lips were cracked and there were slight lacerations appearing around your forehead and jawline.

"She wasn't meant to house the power of an archangel," Lucifer responded. "She's dying, but the same won't happen to you."

"Will she be okay if I say yes?"

"Yes," Lucifer lied smoothly.

The guy looked like he was contemplating what to do, so Dean spoke up again.

"Look, kid. She's important to me...more important to me than pretty much anyone else in this fucked up world. I would do anything to save her...she's--she's my brother's girl."

You wanted to tell him that wasn't true, but you knew it was fruitless to even try. Even still, your heart ached at his words.

"How long?" the guy asked, directing his question at Lucifer.

"As long as I want. You'll never age, never die, as long as I'm with you."

The guy nodded. "Alright. I'll do it." He stood up. "What do I need to do?"

"Just say 'yes'," Lucifer answered.

"Yes."

A bright white light filled the room and Dean had to shield his eyes. When the light faded, you were lying on the floor and Lucifer was now clearly possessing the young man they'd come to find.

"(Y/N)!" Dean yelled as he raced to your side.

Your pulse was faint and you looked even worse than you had moments before.

"Heal her," Dean demanded.

Lucifer's lips curled up in a cruel smile. "No."

"Excuse me?"

"I said no," he repeated. "I'm not interested in saving her."

"You wouldn't have a vessel without us. You owe her!"

"I'm the devil, Dean. What makes you think I give a damn about debts?"

Dean stared at him, anger and terror fighting for control in equal measure. He stood up and went to lunge at Lucifer, but the archangel simply disappeared, leaving you and Dean completely helpless and alone.

**********

Dean had rushed you to the hospital and was currently sitting in the waiting room, hoping to hear something about your condition.

Sam rushed into the room, eyes scanning for his brother. When he saw him, Sam crossed the distance and wrapped Dean in a tight hug.

"How is she?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Dean said quietly. "But it doesn't look good."

"She's strong, Dean."

"I don't think that matters...her body was never meant to house an archangel and she managed to do it for almost a week. She's dying, Sammy."

Sam's eyes filled with tears, but he blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.

Dean's heart ached, seeing his brother look so upset. He would be lying if he said he didn't feel a broken emptiness in his soul--a space you used to occupy. But he needed to push past his own pain for his brother's sake. After all...you weren't his.

"For (Y/N)?" a doctor called into the waiting room.

Dean and Sam practically ran in her direction. Dean's heart clenched in his chest as he took in the doctor's sad expression.

"Are you (Y/N)'s family?"

Both men nodded.

"Come with me, please," the doctor said quietly.

They followed her to a private waiting area and Dean's dread increased significantly. "What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

"Please have a seat," the doctor asked, gesturing toward the chairs against the wall. She closed the door before taking her seat across from them.

"My name's Dr. Murphy. I'm (Y/N)'s treating physician."

"I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

"There's no easy way to say this," Dr. Murphy said gently. "(Y/N)'s injuries are quite severe and she's in critical condition."

"But she's going to be okay, right?" Dean asked hopefully.

Dr. Murphy frowned and shook her head. "Her organs have begun to shut down...it's only a matter of time now. The best I can do is try to keep her comfortable."

"No," Dean whispered. "No, she can't--"

Sam placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, trying to comfort his brother.

"I'm very sorry," Dr. Murphy murmured.

Dean suddenly stood up. "I can't do this. I need--I need air."

He practically ran from the room and Sam got up to follow him, but Dr. Murphy placed a gentle hand on his arm. "I think it's best to give him a moment."

Sam nodded as he desperately tried to push his own emotions away. He adored you, but he knew exactly how much Dean loved you...so he knew how much pain his brother was in right now. It hurt him almost as much as losing you.

***********

Once Dean was outside, he ran around to the side of the building, desperate to be alone for a moment. He collapsed onto the ground, back against the hard stone of the hospital exterior. All of the tears he'd been pushing back for days finally poured out.

He found himself falling apart in public--something he couldn't recall doing before. He couldn't bring himself to care. You were dying and it was killing him. It was all his fault. If he hadn't been so careless, he wouldn't have gotten injured and you never would have had to beg Lucifer to save him.

He knew it wasn't a rational way of thinking, but in that moment, it didn't matter. You were about to become just another name on a never ending list of people who died because of him. He couldn't take it--it was too much.

"I know I'm not exactly on good terms with any of you and I probably don't deserve your help, but I'm not asking for myself. (Y/N) is dying and I can't save her. I'm not normally the kind of man to beg, but I'm on my knees right now...begging for just one of you to find it in yourself to give a damn. She doesn't deserve this. She's the best person I've ever known...so please. Please someone answer me. Please..." His voice was broken by the end of his short speech.

He was desperate and there was nothing he wouldn't do to save her. If no angel would help him...he wasn't above making a deal with a demon. He'd been to hell once before, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you could live.

"Hello, Dean Winchester," a soft female voice said from beside him.

He jumped up quickly, ready to fight if need be. He hadn't even heard the woman arrive, which meant she likely wasn't human.

"Don't worry," she said gently. "I'm not here to hurt you. My name is Aliraphael."

"Aliraphael?" Dean repeated. "I've never heard of you."

She smiled. "You don't need to know my name to know what I am."

Dean swallowed thickly. "Why did you come?"

"You prayed for help. I answered."

"But why? We don't know you...what would make you wanna help us?"

Aliraphael smiled. "You, your brother, and (Y/N) have sacrificed much for this world and all of the people in it. I think you deserve a miracle."

Normally Dean wouldn't believe her, but there was something in her eyes that made him feel safe. He was inclined to trust her, but he had to be sure. "What do you want in return?"

"Nothing. This is my gift to you."

"Nothing is free."

"I understand why you may be jaded, but sometimes a gift is simply a gift. This is one of those times."

Dean nodded. "I'm choosing to trust you, but just know if you betray me, I will kill you."

She smiled. "I would expect nothing less of the great Dean Winchester."

Dean led Aliraphael into the hospital and his eyes scanned the waiting area for Sam. He wasn't there, so Dean assumed he'd gone to your room.

"Excuse me. Can you tell me what room (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is in?" Dean asked the receptionist.

The woman typed on her computer without looking up and muttered, "Room 212."

"Thanks," Dean replied. He tried to walk slowly--normally--to room 212, but every instinct in his body was screaming for him to get to you as quickly as possible.

When Dean entered the room, he saw Sam standing beside your bed, his hand wrapped tightly around yours. He was speaking softly to you and Dean felt that ache in his chest intensify.

"Sam," Dean said softly.

Sam turned towards the door, eyes red from his tears. He looked between Dean and Aliraphael in confusion. "Who's she?"

"I am Aliraphael," the angel responded. "I am here to heal (Y/N)."

Sam cut Dean a look. "What did you do?"

Dean shrugged. "I prayed. She came."

"Okay, but what did you promise her in exchange?"

"Your brother has promised me nothing. I am doing this because I wish to. I have no ulterior motive."

Sam still looked worried, but he stepped back to allow Aliraphael access to your bed. Aliraphael gently placed her hand against your forehead and closed her eyes. A soft white glow began to envelop your body and your skin began to return to normal.

After several moments, Aliraphael dropped her hand from your head and turned to Sam and Dean. "It is finished."

You started to stir in the bed and Dean's heart beat faster.

"She will awaken in a moment," Aliraphael assured them.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, unable to take his eyes off your face.

Sam echoed his brother's statement and Aliraphael smiled.

"You are all very welcome." With that, the angel disappeared as if she had never been there.

You groaned softly and your eyes slowly opened. You blinked rapidly trying to clear them and focus on the room around you.

"I have to go," Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam asked in surprise, but Dean had already exited the room.

"Sam?" you asked softly, hearing the younger Winchester's voice.

"Hey, (Y/N/N)," he murmured. "I'm here."

Your bright (y/e/c) eyes focused on his face. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?"

You thought about it for a moment and the memories of the past few days came flooding back. "Lucifer..." you whispered.

Sam sighed and nodded. "Yeah."

"I was dying, Sam--I felt it. Why am I not dead?"

"Dean prayed...and some angel we'd never met before came to save you."

Your eyes widened. "Dean...where is he? I need to talk to him."

"He was just here, but when you started to wake up, he bolted."

"Shit," you murmured. "We need to go after him."

You started to sit up and tug at the IV in your arm, but Sam stopped you.

"Woah! Woah! Slow down, (Y/N). You were almost dead not even five minutes ago."

"And now I'm not, so we need to get the hell out of here Sam," you insisted.

Sam sighed. He knew better than to fight you, so he simply helped you remove your IV and untangle you from the web of other tubes and wires. He handed you your clothes and turned around so you could get dressed in privacy.

"Alright, let's go," you said as soon as you were dressed.

*********

When Dean left the hospital, he'd taken the Impala and started the long drive back to Lawrence. He just wanted to get home before you and figure out what his next move was. If you and Sam were going to be together...he didn't want to be there to witness it. He couldn't.

Dean's phone had rang several times, but he hadn't answered. Most of the calls were from you and a few were from Sam, but he couldn't handle hearing your voice right now. Especially if you were going to tell him everything Lucifer had said was true.

"He's still not answering his damn phone," you muttered, throwing the phone onto the dash angrily.

"I just don't get why he'd leave like that," Sam said for the fifth time.

You sighed and ran your fingers through your hair. "Lucifer said some things to him, Sam...things that hurt him deeply. None of it was true, but Dean doesn't know that."

"What kind of things?"

"Things about me...about how I feel. And about you," you admitted quietly.

"(Y/N), just tell me."

"Lucifer told Dean I couldn't stand him and the only reason I hung around was because I'm in love with you."

Sam scoffed. "And Dean believed him?"

"You didn't see his face, Sam...he believed every word. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't overpower Lucifer."

"Shit," Sam mumbled. "He's a goddamn idiot if he thinks you love me more than him."

You laughed dryly. "Lucifer played on Dean's insecurities and unfortunately, it worked."

Sam sighed. "Where do you think he'd go?"

"I have to hope he went home."

"Then let's get there before he does." Sam sped up, flooring the stolen car like he'd--well, like he'd stolen it.

You were about five hours from Lawrence and Dean had a head start. You knew it was unlikely you'd get there first, but you had to hope you could get there before he left.

**********

When Sam pulled into the Bunker's garage four and a half hours later, you were relieved to see the Impala parked where it should be. Dean would never leave without his beloved car, which meant he was still there.

Both you and Sam practically ran into the Bunker, calling Dean's name.

The green eyed hunter heard your voices, but he ignored both you and Sam. He couldn't face you...he just couldn't.

"Dean? Where are you?" you called again.

"Come on, Dean. We know you're here," Sam said in annoyance.

You headed into the kitchen and Sam went down towards Dean's bedroom. Both of you hoped to find him before he managed to sneak his way out.

Sam entered his brother's room without knocking and sighed in relief. "Dean. There you are."

"Sam," he said curtly.

"Why the hell did you leave? And why didn't you answer our calls?"

"I just needed to get out of there."

"What, before (Y/N) woke up?" Sam's tone made it clear exactly how stupid he thought his brother's actions were.

"Look man, I'm glad she's okay, but I can't face her. I don't want to have that conversation."

Sam decided to play dumb. "What conversation, Dean? The one where she thanks you for saving her life? Or where you yell at her for saying yes to Lucifer in the first place? Cuz trust me, we had that conversation already."

"That's not what I'm talking about, Sam," Dean said quietly as he started to pack his duffle. "But it doesn't matter. I'm leaving."

"Why the hell are you leaving?"

"I can't stay here. I can't--I can't see the two of you together," he whispered.

"Together?" Sam asked incredulously. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"It's fine, Sam. I know."

"There's nothing to know!"

Dean glared at his brother and shook his head. "I saw you at the hospital...you clearly feel the same as she does."

"Yeah I do!" Sam yelled. "She's my friend--she's family!"

Dean was about to snap back another retort, but Sam cut him off.

"Just talk to (Y/N), Dean. Let her explain...you owe her that much."

"I don't want to talk to her."

"I'm not going to give you a choice," you said from the bedroom doorway.

Both men turned to look at you in surprise. You crossed your arms and stood firm.

"I don't want to talk," Dean said quietly.

"Good. I don't want you to talk, Dean. I want you to listen." You turned your gaze to Sam and gestured with your head for him to leave the room.

He gladly exited, not wanting to be a part of this particular conversation.

You closed the door behind him and continued to stand in front of it, afraid Dean would try to leave if you moved.

"Lucifer is a liar, Dean. I shouldn't even have to say that. He's the devil, for crying out loud. He's kinda known for his lies."

"But he's also been honest with us before," Dean countered.

"Only when it benefited him. Just like he lies when it benefits him. Hurting you? Hurting me? That shit brought him joy."

"Really? Did it hurt you to hear him tell me how you really feel about me?"

"No," you said angrily. "It hurt me to hear him lie to you about how I feel! The things he said were cruel and terrible, but more importantly, they weren't true!"

Dean stared at you silently, clearly not believing a word you said.

"Do you really think I'm capable of lying to you for years? Think of every moment we've spent together, Dean...do you really think I pretended to care about you? Pretended to enjoy spending time with you? Think about all the times we've laughed together, the times we've had each other's backs, the small glances, the whispers in the dark when one of us had a nightmare. Think about all of those moments and then look me in the eye and tell me it was all a lie."

Tears filled his beautiful green eyes and you knew the same expression was reflected in your own. You took a step towards him, desperately wanting to touch him, but afraid it be unwelcome.

"You're my favorite person in the world, Dean Winchester. You. Not Sam, not Bobby, not Jodi...you. You hold my whole heart in your hands...you always have. If you don't want it, then I understand, but don't for a second think I love anyone but you."

His lips parted in surprise. "But what about Sam?" he whispered.

You sighed loudly. "Weren't you listening? Sam is my friend, Dean, but nothing more than that. I love him like a brother." You took another step towards him. "He doesn't compare to you--he couldn't compare to you. I love you, Dean...and I don't mean like a brother."

Dean inhaled deeply. "I want to believe you, (Y/N/N)..."

"Then believe me," you begged him. "I love you."

Dean thought about what Lucifer had said and he realized why he'd believed it so easily. They were all things Dean was afraid of...he knew he wasn't good enough for you and he was terrified you knew it too.

"Talk to me, Dean," you whispered, taking a final step towards him.

He looked deep into your eyes and found nothing but love there. The same love he held in his soul for you. "I've always been afraid to tell you how I feel because I know I'm not good enough for you," he admitted. "That's why it was so easy for me to believe Lucifer's lies...it was almost like a self-fulfilling prophecy. I couldn't believe you'd ever want me, so it was easier to believe you wanted Sam. He's better for you in every way."

"Stop," you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. "I decide who is best for me and I choose you. I will always choose you."

"(Y/N)," he whispered.

You pressed your lips against his, trying to infuse it with all of the love in your soul. Dean's arms wrapped around your thick waist, pulling you closer to him. He deepened the kiss, lips hungrily devouring yours.

You stayed locked in each other's embrace for what felt like an eternity. Your tongues fought for dominance and your hands caressed any part of each other they could reach.

When the kiss inevitably broke so the two of you could breathe, Dean laid his forehead against yours. "This might go without saying, but I love you too, (Y/N). So goddamn much."

You chuckled breathlessly. "After a kiss like that, I'd sure as hell hope so."

He grinned and tugged you even closer to him. His lips pressed against yours again and he found himself wanting to feel every part of your soft body. He needed it, just as much as needed air to breathe.

"Let me show you how much, baby," he whispered against your lips.

"Please," you moaned softly.

“Strip for me, pretty girl,” he commanded.

You gently pushed against his chest, forcing him back against the bed. He dropped down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving your body.

You slowly began to remove your clothing, taking much longer than you needed to. You were teasing him and he was eating it up.

You finally got down to just your bra and panties, nothing fancy as you obviously weren’t planning on this happening, but Dean didn’t seem to care. In fact, you were about to be very glad you didn’t wear anything nice.

“You are so damn beautiful, baby,” he whispered.

You offered him a warm smile, appreciative of the affection in his gaze. He thought you were a goddess among humans, a treasure to behold.

“I think you’re a bit overdressed, Dean,” you teased softly.

“You know, babe, I think you’re right.” He stood up and shed his layers significantly faster than you had. He was extremely impatient, as he was dying to get his hands on you.

You admired his broad chest, thick arms, and sculpted form. He looked incredible, scars and all. You felt the strong urge to kiss every single one of them, if he would allow you.

He now stood before you in nothing but his boxers, his large erection straining against the thin fabric.

“Let’s get this off you,” he muttered, reaching behind your back to unhook your bra.

The moment your breasts were exposed to his gaze, he let out a low groan. “Fuck, baby. These are even better than I’d imagined.”

“You imagined my—“ your question was cut off by the feeling of his lips wrapped around your nipple and his hands caressing your breasts gently.

The gentle movements quickly turned more intense, and he began to truly knead and nip at your flesh. You moaned softly and gently ran your fingers through his soft hair.

You pressed yourself even closer to him, feeling his bulge press against your abdomen. He lifted his head with a small smirk.

“Impatient, are we?”

You nodded quickly.

“Oh come on now, sweetheart. Use those words for me. Tell me what you want.”

“You,” you whimpered. “I want you.”

His smirk widened. “I figured that much out on my own, darlin'. I want you to tell me what you need.”

You weren’t exactly accustomed to expressing yourself verbally in the bedroom. To be honest, a lot of your past experiences weren’t that great anyway. A lot of one night stands with men who only cared about their own pleasure.

You found yourself feeling kind of excited at the prospect of a man listening to you and what you wanted…even more so because that man was Dean.

“I want you on your knees, handsome,” you said firmly.

Dean’s eyes widened slightly, but he dropped to his knees obediently. His normally bright green eyes were dark with lust as he locked eyes with you.

You loved the powerful feeling you had as you stood over him. The great Dean Winchester, on his knees for you.

You touched his face sweetly and he leaned into your palm, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Do you wanna eat my pussy, Dean?” you whispered.

His eyes shot back open, a hungry expression on his face. “Yes,” he breathed lowly.

“Then get to work,” you commanded softly.

Dean was used to being in charge in the bedroom and it wasn’t often he found himself submitting to a woman. You were different than any woman he’d ever been with before—after all, he loved you. If you told him to do a damn handstand naked, lick your feet, and call you “your majesty”, he would have done it in a heartbeat.

His calloused hands slowly slid up your thighs, squeezing the supple flesh. His mouth followed, leaving sloppy kisses as he worked his way closer to your core.

“Baby?” he asked softly, glancing up at you.

“Hmm?”

“Do you have any particular attachment to these panties?”

“No, why—Dean!” you gasped as he ripped your underwear in half, tossing the remains to the floor.

He grinned and made a happy little noise deep in his throat before kissing your mound. He grabbed your right leg and tugged it up over his shoulder, giving him better access to you.

“Lean on me for support, beautiful. I got you.”

The moment you laid a hand on his shoulder and he was sure you were stable, he dove into your pussy with a deep growl.

Your head fell back in ecstasy and a series of moans left your lips. The hand not holding onto his shoulder immediately wound itself in his hair, holding on for dear life.

“Dean—feels so good,” you moaned.

His hands dug into your ass cheeks in response, tugging you even closer to him. He never wanted to stop—hearing those sweet sounds you made mixed with the heady taste of your sweetness was more intoxicating than any drink he’d ever had.

Your legs had begun to tremble and Dean’s grip on you tightened. He wasn’t willing to stop his ministrations, but he wouldn’t let you fall either.

Your nails scraped against his scalp and his shoulder as you clung to him. The pleasure was almost too much and not enough all at once, and you felt your orgasm approaching.

“Dean,” you gasped. “I’m so close.”

He smiled against your core and shifted his focus more heavily to your clit. You cried out and cursed softly, and he knew he’d made the right move.

“I—oh god,” you cried as your orgasm washed over you.

Dean lapped up everything you had to offer, his grip on your body never loosening. As you began to come down from your high, he slipped his hands up to your hips to ensure he didn’t drop you.

He gave your pussy one last lick before allowing you to pull him up by his hair. To his surprise, you mashed your lips against his hungrily, not giving a damn that he tasted like you.

One hand tangled into your hair and the other held you tightly. “What do you want me to do now, sweetheart?” He murmured against your skin.

“Take control, Dean,” you begged. “Make my legs shake. Make me scream. I don’t wanna be able to move for hours.”

“Holy fuck,” he groaned. “Who taught you to talk like that, baby?”

You smirked. “It comes naturally with you.”

"Well it's the sexiest thing I've ever heard," he murmured.

His strong arms wrapped around your waist and gripped you tightly. He spun you both around so your back was to the bed. He pulled you up into his arms and tossed you onto the bed.

You gasped in surprise, not used to being manhandled in such a manner. You sat up slightly, resting on your elbows as you looked at the gorgeous man in front of you. You curled one finger and beckoned him towards you with a smirk.

He quickly discarded his boxers and dropped onto the bed, crawling slowly up your body. He dropped kisses onto your skin as he moved, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

When he reached your mouth, you reached up and grabbed the hair at the base of his neck, tugging him down to you. Your kiss was hungry and needy, leaving no question as to what you wanted.

As the kiss deepened, Dean shifted his body to touch your soft curves. In doing so, the tip of his cock brushed against your pussy, eliciting soft moans from both of you.

Dean's hands traced softly up and down your sides, relishing the feeling of your skin against his. "I love touching you," he murmured in your ear. "You're so damn soft."

You smiled and turned your head to nip at his jaw. He groaned and turned his attention back to your soft lips, sucking the bottom one between his teeth and biting down gently.

Much like Dean, you loved touching his body, but you reveled in the firmness of his body beneath your hands. Every time he moved, you could feel his muscles tense and shift. His body was powerful and beautiful--a vessel carrying the most incredible soul you'd ever known.

Dean shifted again, nudging your head to the side so he could suck at your neck, leaving love marks on the sensitive skin. You lifted your hips up slightly, seeking some kind of friction to relieve the ache between your legs. Once again, his cock brushed against your core and you gasped lightly. Dean, on the other hand, bit gently into your neck to suppress a loud moan.

"I can't wait any longer, baby," he groaned.

"Take me. I'm yours," you whispered.

He sighed softly, kissing you sweetly before pulling away. "Roll over for me, sweetness. Hands and knees."

Your eyes widened in surprise, but you rolled over immediately. You lowered your upper body to lay flat against the mattress, ass high in the air.

"Holy shit," Dean murmured as his hands grasped your large, round ass. "Who said you could have an ass this incredible? I can't wait to watch it jiggle while I fuck you senseless."

Before you could respond, he smacked your ass with an open palm, causing you to gasp slightly.

He seemed to realize belatedly that he should have asked if you were okay with that before doing it, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't imagined smacking your ass for years. "Is that okay, baby?"

"More, please," you begged softly.

He smacked your ass again with a grin. "You like that?"

"Harder, Dean," you moaned. "Like you mean it."

"Fuck," he groaned, hand coming down against your cheek again.

Each time you moaned loudly, reaffirming your enjoyment of the action. Your pussy clenched around nothing and you were beyond desperate for him to just fuck you already.

"Dean, I need you--please," you cried desperately.

"Where do you need me, baby?"

"Inside me," you whimpered.

Without warning, you felt one of Dean's thick fingers enter your pussy. "Like this?"

You shook your head rapidly.

"Words, babe," he said firmly.

"I want your cock, Dean."

"Yeah? Tell me where."

You turned your head to look at him as best as you could from your current position. "I want you to fuck my pussy with your big, thick cock...please," you pleaded softly.

Dean blinked rapidly and licked his lips. He pulled his finger out from inside of you and sucked your juices from it. "Yes ma'am," he murmured.

He leaned forward and kissed your cheek where he'd left a red mark from his slaps. You turned your head back around, forehead against the mattress, preparing yourself for what would come next.

Dean gripped his cock tightly, stroking it a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. He started to enter you and you gasped at the stretch. It was painful given his larger than average size.

"I've got you, baby," he whispered, running his hands up and down your back in a soothing manner. "Just relax for me."

You took a deep breath and tried to relax your body as much as you could. When he felt the tension leave you, he continued to push forward.

You'd never felt so full before and the pain had begun to subside into pleasure. "You're so big," you mumbled.

Dean smirked and chuckled softly. "I'm not all the way in yet, sweetheart."

"What?!" you gasped in surprise.

He pushed the rest of the way in, bottoming out so deep inside you, you swore you could feel him against your cervix. "Fuck!" you yelped.

Dean continued his soothing hand motions on your hips as he allowed you the time you needed to adjust to his size.

While you appreciated his gentleness, you desperately needed him to fuck you. Instead of telling him what you wanted, you moved your hips forward slightly before slamming back against him so your ass pressed firmly against his lower abdomen.

Dean's blunt nails dug into your hips and he growled lowly. "Fuck, baby."

His hips snapped forward and he held you in place by your hips. He set a brutal pace, unable to move slowly--it felt way too damn good.

Dean was completely mesmerized by your ass, watching it jiggle as he fucked into you forcefully. He slapped the opposite cheek from the one he'd hit earlier and you cried out in pleasure, pussy clenching around him.

"You feel so fuckin' good, sweetness," he moaned. "Tightest pussy I've ever had."

You couldn't formulate a good response to his words as you were already too far gone. His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, making your legs shake and your head fog up.

"Made for me, weren't you baby?"

"Mhmm," you hummed.

Dean smiled, knowing you were overwhelmed with pleasure and unable to respond properly. He leaned forward and grabbed a handful of your hair at the base of your neck. He tugged back slightly--just enough to cause a little pain without truly hurting you.

His thrusts were almost violent, they were so fast and hard. He wanted to feel you come apart on his cock and he knew you were close.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he whispered.

You simply whined desperately.

"What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me what you need."

"More," you begged.

"Hmm," Dean hummed. He slipped an arm around your waist and tugged you back against him so you were sitting up as he continued to thrust into you.

One hand slid up to your neck, wrapping around your throat and applying just a tiny bit of pressure to gauge your reaction. His other hand moved slowly towards your core, seeking your clit for added stimulation.

"Dean!" you cried.

He bit into your shoulder. "I'm here, baby. I want you to fall apart for me."

He rubbed at your clit quickly, thrusts slower due to the new position, but nevertheless pleasurable.

You needed just a little more to push yourself over the edge, so you gripped his hand around your neck and put more pressure on it, indicating what you needed.

Dean got the hint and tightened his grip on your throat, just enough to push you over the edge. He didn't want to hurt you--he would never hurt you.

"Cum for me, sweet girl," he murmured in your ear.

You cried out as your second orgasm crashed against you and your pussy tightened almost painfully around Dean's cock. He helped you ride out your high before lowering you back to the bed and rolling you over onto your back.

He was immediately on top of you, thrusting into you more slowly. He put one arm on either side of your head to support himself, effectively trapping you beneath him.

He rolled his hips against you, the motion pressing his pelvis against your clit, causing you to whimper in pained pleasure. Your hands found purchase in his upper back, nails digging in as he repeated the action.

"I love your body, baby," he whispered. "So fucking perfect."

You smiled up at him, pulling him down for a heated kiss. "I like it too," you mumbled. "Yours isn't bad either."

He chuckled lightly, kissing you lovingly. "I wanna see you come apart for me, (Y/N). Can you give me one more?"

Your eyes widened. "I don't think I can..."

"I bet you can, sweetness." He grabbed your hips and pulled your legs up so your legs were wrapped around his waist. He began to thrust in earnest again and your head fell back, a moan escaping your lips.

Dean closed his eyes, focusing on pulling at least one more orgasm from you and keeping his own at bay. The way you were squeezing him made it a hell of a lot harder than he would like.

The harder his thrusts, the tighter you seemed to grip him, and the deeper your nails dug into his back. He knew he was going to have some serious gashes on his back, but he intended to wear them with pride.

"Come apart for me, baby. Let me feel you soak my cock," he begged.

"Dean," you groaned.

"Come on, my love--let go."

Your eyes fluttered closed and your body began to shake as waves of pleasure threatened to overwhelm you. You came for the third time that night, cries of pleasure mixing with Dean's moans of encouragement.

You started to come down from your high, body overly sensitive from the onslaught of pleasure that continued. "Dean, too much!" you gasped.

"Just one more," he begged.

"I can't!" you whimpered.

"Please baby--one more. Need it," he continued to beg.

You didn't think it was possible for you to cum again, but you began to feel a new sensation in your abdomen. It felt similar to the familiar tightening coil that signified an oncoming orgasm, but it was infinitely more intense. You weren't even sure if it was pleasure or pain--the feeling was simply too overwhelming to comprehend.

"Dean--I can't--" you gasped in confusion.

His hand slid between your bodies to gently massage your clit and you suddenly couldn't breathe. You began to writhe beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets to try and ground yourself.

Dean knew you were about to come undone again, so he didn't slow any of his motions. "Look at me, baby."

Your eyes met his for no more than a moment before your vision became blurry. You screamed his name as you came for a fourth and final time. The feeling was so incredible, you couldn't even begin to describe it.

Your vision began to return to normal as you desperately tried to catch your breath. You were practically limp beneath him as Dean began to chase his own orgasm.

He tucked his head into the crook of your neck and murmured soft words of praise against your skin. "Feels so good--squeezing me perfectly."

He kissed your neck as his thrusts became more erratic. "I'm gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, sweetness. Gonna cum for you."

You managed to press a kiss into his shoulder and wrap your arms around him, hands clutching his back. "Fill me up, Dean," you whispered encouragingly.

Dean groaned lowly. "This pussy is mine, baby. You hear me? Mine."

"Yours, Dean. Only yours."

"Oh--fuck--" he groaned. "(Y/N)!"

His hips began to stutter, thrusts faltering as he filled you up with his seed. He whispered your name like a prayer as his movements began to slow to a halt. You clung to him tightly as he came down from his high.

He finally collapsed on top of you, completely spent and breathless.

You rubbed his back soothingly, lips pressing gentle kisses to his shoulder and neck. As the two of you laid there quietly, you began to notice the bedding beneath you was particularly wet--more so than you had expected it to be.

"I love you so much," Dean whispered, lips pressed softly against your jaw.

"I love you too, baby," you said sweetly.

Dean began to lift himself up, each movement making you gasp--body too overstimulated to handle any motion.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he murmured softly.

"I'm not complaining," you assured him.

He grinned slightly as he pulled himself up completely, softened member sliding out of your excessively wet pussy.

He looked down at the bed and his grin widened. "We made quite the mess, baby."

"Yeah, it feels a little...wetter than normal."

He chuckled softly. "That's probably because you squirted, (Y/N/N)."

You gasped, cheeks reddening in embarrassment. You realized that must have been the result of the most intense orgasm of your life. "I did?!"

Dean noticed your discomfort and immediately reassured you. "Yeah, sweetness--and it was the sexiest fucking thing I've ever seen."

You bit your lip and looked up at him. "Really?"

He grinned. "Really."

"I've--uh--well...I've never squirted before," you admitted.

His chest puffed up with pride. "I'm honored to have been the first--and the last." He added a wink for emphasis.

You smiled softly. "Maybe don't make it a regular thing...I literally can't move."

Dean laughed. "Don't worry, babe. I'll take care of you."

You watched the handsome man cross the room and go into the bathroom, emerging several minutes later with two washcloths. He gently picked you up, moving you to the other side of the bed where it was dry. From there, he very gently began to clean you up with the warm washcloths.

You were moved by the loving way he took care of you, making sure you were clean and comfortable before leaving the room in search of another set of sheets.

When he returned, you found you still couldn't move, but Dean didn't seem to mind. "I can change the sheets with you in them, (Y/N)."

"But--"

"Hush," he insisted as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

He made quick work of removing the sheets on the other half of the bed and putting the clean sheets on that side. He then scooped you up again and moved you to the clean, crisp sheets. He removed the rest of the soiled sheets and finished making the bed.

As soon as he was finished, he crawled into the bed beside you. He reached out to grab your soft body and tugged you against his warm chest.

You nuzzled into him and sighed softly. "I could get used to this."

He smiled and kissed the top of your head. "I'll always take care of you, baby...so you might as well get used to it. I'm not going anywhere."

You smiled and pressed a soft kiss onto his chest. "I love you, Dean."

Dean tightened his grip on you and smiled. "I love you more, (Y/N/N). Always."

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x plus size!reader smut #dean winchester x plus size reader #supernatural smut #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles smut

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xfancyfranart · 4 months

Text

This Blade for Hire

Taking part in the @deancas-stabfest was a fantastic last minute decision! These mods do an amazing (and hilarious) job, and I've had so much fun collabing with @friendofcarlotta again.

Go and read "This Blade for Hire" HERE!

Dean still thinks that angels are dicks until he doesn't, Cas proudly wears not only flannel, but also his dom brow and a demon blade, and the girls finally get to stab each other too. Enjoy~

(My second Stabfest collab posts on Monday, so stay tuned <3)

#deancas stabfest #deancas stabfest 2023 #2stab2fest #deancas #destiel #destiel fanart #deancas fanart #destiel fanfic #spn fanart #destiel art #xfancyfranart #friendofcarlotta

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waynes-multiverse · 1 year

Text

Plastic Hearts – Series Masterlist

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Series Warnings: +18!!!, strong language, 80s Hollywood/wrestling AU, mature themes (incl. cheating, miscarriage, abortion, addiction, the casting couch…), sexism/feminism, self-worth issues, dom!director meets sub!actress vibes, humiliation/degradation à la La-La Land, plenty of praise kinks to go ‘round, slow burn, age-gap, one-sided pining, eventual smut but implied throughout, inappropriate jokes & the darkest humor, a lot of wrestling and leotards

A/N: Oh, you guys will hate me for ever creating this series... How do I elevator-pitch this? Dean’s the only cock in a coop full of hens, trying to keep order where chaos reigns. He’s also a sadistic train wreck (*coughs* demon!Dean 😈) and a fucking eccentric genius with a big heart. Convinced yet? Alright... Ooooh, every chapter is also titled after an 80s song and it’s based on the Netflix series GLOW!

So, c’mon, slide into the Impala with me, and let’s take a wild drive on the 101! 😎🤘

Please read the warnings carefully since this series includes a lot of triggering/controversial themes that I will drag through the gutter. Scroll past if it’s not for you. Thank you!

Main Masterlist || Questions?

1. Holding Out For A Hero 2. Livin’ On A Prayer 3. Separate Ways 4. Every Rose Has Its Thorn 5. Welcome To The Jungle 6. Pour Some Sugar On Me 7. Another Brick In The Wall 8. Hot For Teacher 9. Hungry Like The Wolf 10. The Boys Of Summer 11. Glory Days 12. The Warrior 13. Gimme All Your Lovin’ 14. Can’t Fight This Feeling 15. Sweet Child O’ Mine 16. Things Can Only Get Better 17. Voulez-Vous 18. I Hate Myself For Loving You 19. Hit Me With Your Best Shot 20. Don’t You Want Me

21. Rock You Like A Hurricane – April 13 22. Girls, Girls, Girls – April 20 23. Every Breath You Take – April 27 24. Don’t Dream It’s Over – May 04 25. Dare – May 11

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coffeebeans18 · 7 months

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Drinking together

Warnings: swearing, sex

Some kinky shit

Y/n's POV

I'm at the bar, drinking with some guy that I've never met before. He seems nice, but I'm keeping my distance. You know...except for accepting drinks from him.

But it's ok. I'm watching the bar tender make the drinks. This guy doesn't even touch them. He just asks me what I want, and tells the bar tender. He doesn't seem that bad. Maybe he just needed a drinking buddy.

As far as I know, he's here by himself. Maybe he just needed somebody to sit and drink with him. Maybe I needed the same. It's been a long week.

Guy: So, what brings a chick like you to a place like this?

We've been talking, but he hasn't asked me anything personal yet. But I don't know if I count that as a personal question.

Y/n: Long week. You?

Guy: Weird brother.

Y/n: You got one of those, too? I'm glad I'm not alone.

Guy: Mine has a drinking problem. What's wrong with yours?

(This is placed in Sam's demon blood era)

Y/n: Mine stole my boyfriend. I never had a problem with him being gay, until then.

I didn't think that would make him spit his drink out, in a fit of laughter. Maybe it's funny from somebody else's perspective. But it still hurts me.

Y/n: Dude.

Guy: I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

He finishes laughing.

Guy: I really needed that laugh. I'm sorry about your boyfriend, though.

Y/n: It's ok. I didn't think we were gonna work out anyway.

Guy: That sucks. I'm Dean, by the way.

Y/n: I'm Y/n. You can call me Y/n/n.

Dean: It's nice to meet you, Y/n/n. You want another drink?

Y/n: I've actually had enough for the night. I should go home and check on my cat.

Dean: It was nice talking to you. I hope these you around, before I leave town.

Damn. I meet a cool guy, and he's about to leave town? Just my luck.

Y/n: I hope to see you, too. Later, Dean.

He nods and I start leaving. Of course, a guy starts following me to the door. And no, it isn't Dean. I wish it was, but it's not. It's some dork, who's mother obviously never taught him personal space. I try to ignore him, and keep walking, but he eventually grabs my shoulder, causing me turn around to face him.

Y/n: Can I help you?

Guy: Give me your number.

Oh he's drunk. Reeeeeealy drunk.

Y/n: No. You're drunk. You should go.

Guy: Or maybe you could give me your-

Dean: Or maybe you could leave her alone. She already said no. So get lost.

Guy: Damn. You could've told me you had a boyfriend.

He huffs and walks away. He might've been a dork, but he was a really big dork. I'm glad Dean was here when he was. I probably wouldn't have been able to fight that other guy off.

Y/n: Thank you.

Dean: Don't worry about it. I forgot to give you my number.

He hands me a piece of paper, with his number on it. Awesome. I got the cool guy's number. Maybe my night's actually gonna go somewhere good.

Y/n: Thanks. I was wondering how I'd find you again.

Dean: You got a ride?

Y/n: No. I was just gonna call a cab.

Dean: Or I can give you a ride. My car's outside.

Y/n: I spent all night with you. I think I trust you enough to give me a ride.

I let him take me home, and invite him inside. One thing leads to another, and now we're in my bedroom, where he's letting me do whatever I want to him. Of course, there are some things that I still ask permission to do. Like putting his dick inside me.

Y/n: Can I?

Dean: Whatever you want.

Y/n: I'll take that as a yes.

I put it in me, and start riding him. I'm not used to being the dominant one. I'm not sure if I'm doing it right. The guy is always on top of me. Not the other way around. But I guess there's a first time for everything.

This actually isn't that bad. Being dominant for once. I'm riding him, and he's moaning my name. I'm hitting just the right spot with his dick, causing myself to moan his name.

Y/n: Fuck, Dean.

Dean: You're doing great. Riding me like a champ.

He might be the sub in this, but he still talks like a dom. Maybe he's not used to his role in this, either.

Y/n: Oh fuck. I'm gonna-

Dean: Cum for me, Baby.

He sure does have a way with words. A way that makes me cum. He pulls himself out of me, and cums on my bedsheet.

Dean: You lay down, I'll clean this up.

He gets up from where he was laying. He leaves the room for a second, going in to my bathroom, and coming back with a wet towel. He cleans me off, and wipes off the sheet as best as he can. Then he lays down with me, holding me in his arms.

Don't let strangers take you home from the bar. But Dean's a good stranger. I'm glad I let him take me home.

Dean: You ready for round two?

Y/n: Fuck yeah, I'm ready for round two.

Mr. Mittens: Meow?

Y/n: After I feed my cat and close the door.

#supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #supernatural #dean smut #dean winchester

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asmutwriter · 6 months

Text

You Saved Me (Part 11)

DESCRIPTION: (Season 10) After doing some job hunting you bump into your friend Dean but he's not traveling alone

WORD COUNT: 3597

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List

WARNINGS: demon Dean, swearing, single mum, knives, violence, choking (in a none sexy way), details of injuries, details of fighting, smut, choking (in a sexy way), dom Dean, sub reader, hitting, oral (f recieving), orgasm control, biting, unprotected sex (reader is on the pill), hair pulling, creampie,

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

- Not been proof read

You put the various shopping bags into your boot. Cursing as one of the bags falls out. Spilling thevarious food items onto the car park floor. You kneel down. Cursing as you realise the bag has split. "Youve got to be fucking me". Resting your forehead into your hand as you try and regain your sanity back.

"Here" you hear a British voice say "let me help. They gave me an extra bag. You can use that one" you look up. Seeing a man with dark hair, facial hair, and light eyes holding out a plastic bag.

"Thank you" he opens the bag. Holding it out as you start placing your items into it. You see the bag he was holding. Filled with what looks like mainly beer. He must be having some party. "You're a life saver" you smile at him as he chuckles slightly

"Thats debatable but... thanks" you place the last items into the bag. He passes the bag to you. Taking it from him. STanding up as you place it into your boot. SHutting it down you turn to thank him again. He kneels down

"I think you dropped your ring" he picks it up. Flinching as it burns his skin slightly. You freeze slightly. Thumb going to the two rings still on your fingers. "SHit" he says. Looking at the ring then you. He stands up, pushing his shoulders back slightly as he watches you bend down. Grabbing the ring from the floor you place it into the bag. Based on the ring he touched you deduced hes possessed. You stand back up and look at him. His friendly demeanour has changed into a passive aggresive one. He goes to speak but you shake your head slightly

"I dont want any trouble" he watches you, his lips slightly apart as he analysises your behaviour. He knows that yiy know what he is. Yet he relises you show no sign of fear. You put your hands up in a slight defense pose. "Ive had a really shitty day and I just want to go back home and forget today happened" you put out your hand. Your left hand - the one without the rings on. "I promise. Thats all I want to do" he nods slightly. Taking your hand he shakes it. You smile slightly ar him "thank you again for the help" you drop his hand, going to the front seat of your car. Getting in you check the rear view mirror. The man you saw is now gone. You grip the steerig wgeek. Letting out the breath you didnt realise you were holding.

"What the fuck just happened...?" you mutter to yourself. Checking your backseat. Hitting the seats and double checking the footwells. "Youre fine. Im fine. Im fine" you say. You check your phone for the time. Perfect. Enough time to drop the shopping off at home then go job hunting before you have to pick your kids up from school. You start driving. STopping at the first pub you see. No luck. The next three cafes and two bars you get given the same response

"Sorry we arent hiring at the moment"

You pull up to the bed and breakfast. Desperate at this point. You go inside. Smiling at the person behind the desk "Hey there. Im looking for a job and I wondered if you had any availibilty?" she looks at you. Nodding slightly

"I will contact my boss and see if he has any places for you" she grabs a pen and paper "if you write down your details then we can contact you" she smiles at you as you write down yor name and number. You thank her. Turning around you and going to the car park. You unlock your car. Going to open it you see a familiar face. Smiling as you lock your car back up. Walking over to Dean as he opens the door to his room

"Well aint this a nice surprise" he turns to face you. Hand moving from the handle as he smiles, his eyes trailing down your body

"Wasnt expecting to see you here" he says as his eyes meet yours again "arent you a bit far from home?" you nod

"Its a long story"

"I have time if you want to come in for a bit?" you bite your bottom lip slightly before nodding. He smiles, opening the door for you. Letting you go in as he follows. Taking his flannel off, leaving him in just a shirt. You take off your coat. Placing it over the back of the plush airmchair. He grabs out two beets before he sits down on the edge of one of the beds. You go and sit on the bed opposite him. He offers you one of the beers. Taking it and taking a sip of it.

"God I needed this" he chuckles, drinking his drink as he rests his hands on his knees. Leaning forward as he looks at you

"What happened?"

"I got fired from my job. But no where is hiring so Ive had to come and look furhter out my comfort zone. It sucks but it is what it is. I need money and waiting is what Im good at" he nods, maintaining eye contact wih you

"SOmething else is bothering you"

"Yeah. Lydia has a cold, Anna has new baces so shes in pain all the time. My landlord is a dick and keeps being weird around me meaning I need to leave and find a new place to live" you break the eye contact "plus I did some shopping earlier and my bag broke which just really added onto my shitty day. Evrything just costs money that I dont have and its just stressing me out" he nods slightly. You place the beer to your lips, downing the rest of the drink. He chuckles slightly as you place the now empty bottle onto the bedside cabinet.

"I get why your so stressed" you nod. Rubbing your face before looking at him again, smiling softly before you shut your eyes slightly

"I'll be ok. I always am" he nods. You can feel his eyes on you. You open your eyes as you feel him move near you. Placing down his beer next to your empty one. He gently places a hand on your leg

"I can help relieve some of your stress, if you'd like?" a soft smirk on his face as he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. You nod slightly, watching as he stands up. He comes over to you, gently tracing your bottom lip with his thumb "do you trust me?"

"Yes. I trust you Dean" you whisper. No hesitation in your voce as he smiles at you. Your eyes fixed on his ashe gently pushes his thumb into your mouth. You wrap you lips around it. STicking your tongue out slightly as you suck on the digit. He lets out a soft grunt. Moving his hand down as he grips your jaw with his hand. Bending down as he kisses you. You grip his shirt near his stomach, feeling him push his tongue into your mouth. Letting out a soft whine as he tightens his grip onto your jaw.

You feel him moving his hand down to you throat. Pushing you down so you lay on the bed. Your legs over the edge. His lips still on your as your hands let go of his shirt. Gavvig his wrist as you feel him move his lips to your collar bone. You feel him move his leg between yours. Pushing his leg up, his thigh pushng against your core. You rut your hips slightly against him. A soft moan escaping your lips. A dark chuckle brushes air over your neck as he moves his face back up to yurs. A quick kiss to your lips makes you open your eyes. Half lidded as you meet his. Dark from lust a he smiles down at you.

He gently squeezes your throat. Causing you to let out a whiny sigh. Rutting your hips against his leg. Biting your lip as the friction of your jeans hits just the right spot. He titls his head slightly as he looks at you. Letting go of your throat as he stands up. Slowly undoing your jeans and pulling them down the lenght of your legs. He kisses the insides of your thighs. "Please..." you whisper. He comes back up, kissing you as you feel his figertips dance over your bare legs.

"Are you still on the pill, Rose?" you nod slightly. Feeling his fingers trace around the top of your underwear. Pulling them down your legs and throwing them onto the floor. Dragging his fingers over your cunt. Causing you to gasp out slightly as his finger finds your clit. Rubbing soft circles onto it. "Cum without my permisiion and there will be consequences, understood?" You shut your eyes. Feeling him moving beside you, only focusing on his fingers. You gasp out as you feel him hit your senstive pussy. "Understood?"

You meet his eyes. Nodding as you watch him kneel down. "I understand". He smiles. Pushing your pussy apart as his tongue finds you clit as easily as his fingers had. "Holy fuck" you moan out. Hands going to his head as you hold him close to your core. Gripping his hair as you feel him push two fingers into you. Gridning your hips against his tongue and fingers. Getting closer and closer to your high. "Dean. Please" you groan. He hums in repsonse, causing virbations to go through your core. "Shit. Go-gonna cum... Please... wanna cum..." he hums again. You can feel a soft smile on his face as you rut your hips more aggresivly. His free hand coming round and resting on between your pubic area and your belly button. Pushing down hard onto it.

"Dean!" you cry out "Please" gripping his hair tightly as you try your best not to orgasm. With every flick of his tongue, curl of his finger, it get more diffuclt. You feel him move away slightly. Uttering three simple words

"Cum for me". With that you let go. Your legs clamping around his head as you pull him close to you. Truly unholy sounds coming out from your lips as you feel yourself letting go. You let go of the grip you have on his hair. Unclamping your leg. Eyes flutering open as you feel him pushing your shirt up as he kisses over your stomach. Eventually pushing it over your breasts. Biting at the flesh exposed by your bra. Kissing your neck before he pulls your tip over your head.

Hands going over your boobs before trailing around your torso. You arch your back, allowing him better access to unhook your bra. He tosses your clothes onto the floor. Leaving you completely naked in front of him. His hand goes to your cheek as he kisses you. Yur brow furrows slightly as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands going to the back of his hair, gripping it as he leans over you. Kissing you deeply as he wraps his arm around your waist. Pulling you up as he pushes himself off of the bed. You place your feet onto the floor. Moving away from his lips as he pulls away. Pulling his shirtr over his head. You bite your bottom lip as you trace your nails down his chest and stomach. Causing him to give you a devilish smile as he watches you.

You trace your hands over his biceps as he undoes his belt. Keeping eye contact as he removes his lower halfs. Hearing them drop ont the floor you lean forward. Kissing him gently as you place your hands on the side of his face. His hands go to your hips. Pulling away from the kiss he turns you around. Kissing your neck before pushing between your shoulder blade. Making you bend over, hands resting onto the bed. His hands grip at your ass, kicking your feet apart slightly so he can see you better. On full display for him. You feel a prodding at your entrance. Feeling him push himself fully into you.

"Fuck" he mutters. Your mouth a silent O as he stretches you out. He doesnt leave you much time to adjust before hes starting thrusting in and out. You grip the bed sheets, soft whines and moans leaving your lips as he grinds his hips against yours. He places a hand on your lower back. Allowing him to go faster and deeper. You hide your face into the bed. Muffling the noises you make. You feel his grab you hair. Pulling you by the roots upwards. Your back against his torso as he slows his thrusts slghtly "let me hear all those pretty noises" you shut your eyes tightly as he harshly thrusts. Moving the hand that was on your lower back down to find your clit. Rubbing onto it a he speeds up his thrusts again.

"Dean oh god"you moan out. "Wanna cum"

"Not until I say so" he almost growls into your ear. You keep your eyes shut, resting your head into his shoulder as you focus. Feeling him but trying not to cum.

"Please Dean..." you mumble "please" he kisses your neck

"Soon..." he mutters in repsonse. Picking up his pace. He moves his hand from your hair to your throat. Gently squeezing it. Your hands grip at him. On going to each of his hands. Gripping his wrists tightly as you feel his hips starting to lose their rythm. You let out a long whine as it gets harder to old back your orgasm. He grunts, nipping at your shoulder before whispering to you "cum beautiful"

With those words you let go. A truly sinful moan leaving your lips as you collapse against his body. You faintly register his grunts happening before feeling him stilling his hips. His seed filling you up. You moan out at the feeling. Moving your hand from his wrist up to his head. You turn your head. Planting a kiss to his lups as you grip his hair. The grip on your throat tightening slightly. The both of you heavily breathing as you come down from your highs.

"I think thats the best fuck Ive had in a long time" he chuckles at your statement. Dropping his hand from your throat

"Cant argue with that" he smiles. You feel him pull out of you. You push your legs toegther instinctiyl as you feel your mixed juices start to come out of you. He chuckles slight.y Going into the bathroom he grabs out a towel. Handing it to you, you use it to clean yourself up. Chucking it back into the bathroom. Putting your bra and pants back on as Dean puts on his pants and jeans. Just as the door opens. You grab your shirt, placing it onto yourself you turn. Freezing slughtly as you see the man from the car park.

"WHy do you never learn to knock?" Dean says

"Its a shared room. There are ways to show if youre using it" the british mans looks at you, smiling slightly "Pleased to meet your aquaintance again. I never did get a name"

"Rose. My name is Rose" you murmer "Hey Dean can I have a chat with you? Please?" he looks at you, then at his friend.

"I'll wait outside" they exchange a look. One you dont quite understand. As soon as the door shuts you turn to face Dean

"I know this is going to sound insane but you need to trust me with this" he nods. Going over to his bag he starts shuffling around it "Ok so your friend out there"

"Crowley"

"Yeah whatever his name is. Hes a demon. I met him earlier and he touched my ring and I left him to it because I had a really shitty day and I couldnt be bthered to deal with-"

"Kat. Breath" you stop. Taking in a breath. He tilts his head slightly to look at you. Watchng as youre chest rises and falls deeply as you calm your nerves. Turning back once youd regained your breath

"I didnt want to deal with demons at the time. So I left him. And he left me. But I feel like I should tell you this as Im worried he might do something to you"

"I'll be ok" he turns to face you.

"I know you will be but I thought I should tell you so that you can be prepared for when he turns dark eyes on you" he chuckles slightly. Holding up the item in his hand.

"Do you know what this is?" you look, shaking your head slightly. SOme sort of bone looking item. Teeth on it still and everything

"No" he takes a step towards you, both your eyes on the item as he holds it up.

"This is the first blade" eyes looking at you as he continues to step closer t you. You step backwards insticntivly. Eyes now on him as he smiles. Not his usual cocky smile. This one is a lot more sinister. "Its a powerful weapon. Destroys all living things so long as the user has the mark of cain"

"Thanks for that brief history lesson" you say. Sarcasm on your voice as you try and hide the fear you feel flodding over your body. Determined to stand your ground as he now stands infront of you. Your brain going frantic over what might be happening. Not a shifter. Or ghost possession. They wouldve reacted to your rings. You run your thumb over your fingers. Only two rings. Your blessed one still sitting at the bottom of your shopping bag. He places it onto your cheek bone. Smiling as you shake slightly from fear. Eyes on his as he darts his tongue out accross his teeth "Dean. Please fight this. Kick the fucker out" he chuckles. A low, dark chuckle.

"This is all me sweetheart" he trails his knife down your face. You grab his wrist. Pushing the blade away from you as you pish against his chest. Moving him away from you as you make a bolt for the door. You get it slightly open. Just about to get out you see a plam close it shut. SLamming the door. The hand that was on the door now grabbing your throat. Bringing you close to him as he drags you away from your only exit. Your hands grab at his tightening fist. Just as hes about to choke you out he drops you. Throwing you slightly down as you take in deep breaths. Hands coming up to your throat as you choke for air, moving backwards as you stay sat on the floor. Your back hitting the end of the bed frame

"Come on. Wheres that fight in you?" you shake your head. Him towering over you as you look up at him

"I dont want to hurt you Dean" he laughs as he comes closer. You try and go further into the bed.

"Thats a shame. Because I have no problem with hurting you" you go to kick him. He grabs your ankle. Pulling yu down so your safety of the bed behind is taken away. The sudden change forcing you to lose balance and lie on your back. You dont have time to react as he drags the blade over the length of your thgih. You cry out, hands coming up to cover over your chest as he kneels down. Straddling over your waist.

"Please Dean. Please stop. I-" you stammer before you can finish your words. He smiles slightly

"Go on. Say it" he smiles a truly wicked smile as those words mock you. Taunt you. You feel your bottom lip tremble slightly as you say those three little words.

"I love you..." you whsiper out. Your eyes darint between his. Hoping to see some sort of humanity appear behind him. SOm sort of mercy. But there is no emotion. No sign of affection towards you. Instead you are met with an almost feral look. The smile still adorning his face

"I think its funny that you think that will stop me from killing you" he says in an almost sing song. "If anything that'll make this more fun" he grabs your hands. Pinning them above your head as you try and wriggle out from under him. Feeling him use the edge of the knife to lift your shirt up slightly. Cutting your stomach just below your belly button. You scream out, trying to move your hands away from his grip. He goes to cut you slightly higher up when theres a knock at the door.

"Help me!" you scream out. His hand with the blade in coming up to cover your mouth. He leans down close to you. SHushing you as he meets your eyes. Only mere inches away from your face as he smiles.

"I wish we had longer" he moves his hand from your mouth. Gently tracing the blade down you throat until it rests in the centre of your stomach "But that was my cue to hurry this along" he pushes the blade into your belly. Pain filling your body as you feel him remove the weapon. Bringing it up slightly you feel him piercing it through your chest. Causing you to cry out again before the world turns to black.

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