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spnaubingo · 2 months ago

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I'll Come Find You

Pairing: Rockstar!Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.9k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Your best friend scores you tickets to see Jensen Ackles’ band, Radio Company. What you thought was going to be a normal concert experience turns into something neither you nor Jensen expects.

Square Filled: road trip (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated! <3

Radio Company blasts through your speakers as you get ready for work. You’ve been obsessed with them ever since you caught your brother listening to them several years ago. The lead singer, Jensen Ackles, has been at the forefront of your fantasies for years. He’s so good-looking, you can’t help but think of him whenever you’re alone. He’s one of the reasons why your ex broke up with you. He couldn’t handle his fragile ego and decided not to be with a woman who had a crush on someone in a band.

Radio Company is on tour right now, and your ex promised he’d take you to their concert when they hit your town, but it looks like that won’t be happening now. He is a piece of shit, so the concert wouldn’t have been enjoyable anyway.

The front door opens, and you know your best friend, Daphne, is back. You two decided to move in together right after high school graduation, and it’s been the best ten years of your life. You can’t imagine living with anyone else. She bounces upstairs and grins when she opens your bedroom door.

“Get ready to love me,” she sings.

“I already do.”

“Guess who is playing in town?” You don’t even have to guess to know who it is. “Radio Company! I got us tickets!”

“Are you serious? When are we supposed to leave?”

“Right now.”

“What? Daphne, I have a shift in an hour at the bar. I can’t blow it off. Jason already hates me. I don’t need to give him any more reason to want to fire me,” you sigh.

“Yeah, I kind of already called the bar and pretended to be you. I said you were sick.”

“Excuse me? Daphne, this is my job we’re talking about here. Plus, I never call in sick.”

“Well, tonight you do. Come on, you never take a day off. I did you a favor. We’re going to go tonight, have fun, hear pretty awesome music, and let loose. It’s gonna be fun. Change because we gotta hit the road now.”

You should be mad at Daphne, but she’s right. You never take days off. You love Radio Company, and you deserve a night out. You have enough money saved to be able to take tonight off, so you decide to let go of all your worries. One night. That’s it. What’s the worst that can happen?

The city is an hour away from you, so you play all of Radio Company’s music to pass the time. They just came out with a new song, and you already know all the words to it. That’s how dedicated you are to their music. Jensen’s voice sounds like honey dripping from the combs. It’s sultry and soothing. Listening to him makes everything better.

The line isn‘t that long when you get there, but it quickly becomes crowded the closer you get to opening. You and Daphne are at the front, so the second the doors open, you two rush in to get the barricade. People run in from all directions, but you and Daphne are quicker. The entire stadium fills quickly with eager fans. The place isn’t that big, but it’s enough for Radio Company to sell out. You and Daphne have the perfect view of the stage, so you’ll be able to have the perfect view of Jensen Ackles.

In just an hour, you’ll be feet away from Jensen Ackles. All your dreams can come true tonight. The opening act comes out and plays a few songs from their new album. You don’t know who they are, but their music is good enough. It’s more of a folksy country band, but it has a nice beat.

“So, you want to know what I’ve been thinking about the entire ride here?” Daphne asks above the music.

“Do I wanna know?”

“My friend, Betsy, was saying how her sister was at the barricade of another concert, and the lead singer couldn’t take his eyes off her. He got the security guard to take her backstage to meet the band. What if Jensen does that to you? Imagine that.”

“That will never happen.”

“Don’t be such a pessimist. He’s gonna take one look at you and fall in love,” she gushes.

She’s a hopeless romantic.

“Daph, he’s gonna take one look at me and realize I’m just another fan in a sea of fans.”

The opening act eventually ends, and the crowd goes wild for Radio Company. One by one, the bandmates come on stage, saving Jensen for last. The second he steps on stage, your mouth waters. How can he look so good? He gets better-looking every year. Jensen takes off his baseball cap and shakes his hair before putting the hat on backwards, and you are mesmerized. The swell of his muscles, the tattoos on his skin, the neatly trimmed beard on his face--everything that makes you unbashfully wet.

“How are ya’ll doing?” The crowd goes wild. “Thank you so much for coming out tonight. We have an exciting setlist for you. Sit back, enjoy the show, and let’s make some noise!”

Jensen’s eyes sweep the crowd. This is his favorite part of touring. He loves seeing the fans and interacting with them. He looks at the people at the barricade, and his eyes lock on yours for a few seconds before moving away. However, he does a double-take when his brain processes the beautiful woman in the middle of the barricade. Everyone around you disappears because all you can focus on is Jensen.

He tries to look away from you, but he always comes back to you. The exchange isn’t lost on Daphne. She is grinning big, her mind already going through every possibility of what this could mean.

“Holy shit, did you see that?” Daphne nudges you. You take your eyes off Jensen to address her, but when you look back, he’s already moved on. “Did you see the way he was looking at you?”

“Come on, he’s just looking at the crowd.”

“No, those eyes specifically said, ‘Fuck me’. He gave you ‘Fuck Me’ eyes.”

Heat creeps up your neck and to your cheeks. It’s a good thing it’s dark in here because then she’d see how flustered you are. People have their phones out to record every second of the concert, but you’re here just to be in the moment. Plus, you know Daphne will record for both of you. It’s hard to concentrate on anything but the way Jensen’s voice sounds. It’s clear he has a true passion for singing. He looks like he loves it.

Several songs later, Jensen pauses to take a quick water break. Damn, what you wouldn't give to be that bottle right now. He takes his hat off to shake his hair, which is no doubt covered with sweat. He places the hat on backward and walks to the microphone.

“Now, we’re going to sing our new song. I know it just came out yesterday, but if you know the words, please sing at the top of your lungs!”

The band starts to play their new song, the same song you were belting in the car over here. You jump up and down and sing along to the song, making sure to let everyone know that you know this song. Jensen’s eyes look to you again, and he can’t help but smile at how you’re singing along to every word. He normally doesn’t do this, but then again, he’s never seen anyone like you at his concerts before.

He walks to the side of the stage and walks down the stairs without missing a beat. The crowd goes wild at the thought of touching his hand, but he bypasses all of them until he gets to you. He smirks and points the microphone at you since you clearly know this song. You can’t believe this is happening. Daphne is making sure to get this on camera because you’ll need proof later that this actually happened.

Being courageous, you start to sing into the microphone, not missing a single word, all while holding eye contact with him. Jensen pulls the microphone back to sing into it, sharing the mic with you. You can feel people pushing against you to get a feel of him, but you don’t pay attention to them. All that matters is you and Jensen sharing this moment together.

It’s no secret that Jensen has green eyes, but they seem so bright now. You can’t really explain it. It’s like you two have this connection. The song eventually lands, and Jensen steps back reluctantly. He doesn’t want to let you go, but he has a concert to finish. He winks at you before heading back on stage, making sure to slap the hands of almost every fan he passes by.

No fucking way. That just didn’t happen.

“What the fuck was that?” Daphne gasps. “What just happened?”

“I don’t know,” you blush. “It was nothing.”

“That was not nothing! He so totally wants to fuck you!”

“Daphne, stop.”

“Did you not see the way he was looking at you? He wants to fuck you!”

“Stop it, Daph,” you hiss.

All the other fans move on from that moment, but you can’t get the look of Jensen’s eyes out of your head. You two shared a moment, and if that’s all you have together, then you’re not going to complain. You know the set is wrapping up when Jensen sings one of his favorite songs. He likes to save the best for last. You’re ready to go home and watch the video Daphne took over and over again. One of the guards starts walking toward you, and Daphne slaps your arm excitedly.

“What are you doing? Stop.”

“Look! A guard is coming over here. Jensen wants you to go backstage with him. I just know it.”

“Well, even if he does, I’m not doing that. I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Yes, you are. Don’t make me grab your ear and drag you there.”

You have to admire her boldness. She’s always been that way. You’re envious of her. It’s why you two are the best of friends. You calm her craziness, and she gets you to open up. Right before the guard can reach you, he looks at Jensen. Your smile slips when Jensen shakes his head. The guard nods and backs off, and you look at Daphne with a rueful smile.

“See? He doesn’t want me to go backstage with him. Not everything is a romantic gesture, Daph.”

The concert ends, and you can’t wait to get the hell out of here. Yes, you’re embarrassed that you thought Jensen liked you enough to want to invite you backstage. It takes a while for you two to get through the crowd, but you walk outside in the fresh air.

“Will you slow down? These shoes aren’t meant for running.”

“I just want to go home, Daph.”

“I know. Slow down.”

“Sweetheart!”

Suddenly, you hear cheers come from behind you. You turn and freeze when you see Jensen running after you. He has two security guards behind him to keep the girls from pouncing on him.

“Yeah, he wants to fuck you,” Daphne smirks.

“Shush,” you hiss at her.

Everyone has their phones out to record what is happening. Wait, what is happening? Why is he here?

“You were just gonna leave?” he asks when he reaches you.

“Are you talking to me?” you squeak.

“Yeah,” he laughs. “What, you didn’t want to stay after and say goodbye?”

You’re literally speechless. You don’t know what to say. Your brain is a scrambled mess. Still, you push through the fogginess to get words out.

“I just… Um… I saw you shake your head at the security guard, so I thought you didn’t want me to come backstage. If that’s what you were going to do. I don’t know. I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“You’re cute,” Jensen laughs. “Look, the reason I said no because I didn’t want you to think I was inviting you backstage for the wrong reasons. I’m not that kind of man.”

You smile shyly at him. He’s very intimidating but in a good way. “So, what were the right reasons?”

Jensen smiles a thousand-watt smile before taking out a small business card from his pocket. “My next stop isn’t for a couple of days. I’d really like to take you out if you’ll let me.”

“Um…” Daphne coughs behind you, and you snap out of your trance. “Yes. I’d like that.”

“Good. Text me what you like to do.”

“Okay.”

You grab the card from him, and he walks away from you. He takes pictures with some fans and signs some things before disappearing back inside. People chatter around you about what just happened, but you can’t move a muscle. Did that really just happen? Daphne squeals and pulls you along with her back to the car. He’s all you two talk about on the way home.

“Okay, we’re home now. Text him!”

“What should I say?”

“He said to text him what you like to do.”

You take out your phone and draft a new message to Jensen Ackles. You can’t believe that you have his number. This still feels like a dream. You’re scared of going to sleep and waking up to none of this being real.

“Okay, check it. Is this fine?”

You hand your phone to Daphne for approval. Hey, it’s Y/N from the concert. If you’re still interested, I like coffee and beach walks. Maybe we can get some brunch afterwards? Let me know.

“Short and sweet. I like it. Send it.”

Anxiety spikes the second you send it. What if he doesn’t like it? What if he wants to do something else? What if he changed his mind and doesn’t want to see you anymore? How long are you going to wait for him to text you back? You’re not sure if you can fall asleep while waiting, but the universe is on your side. Jensen texts back minutes later.

Sounds like a date to me. How is 9? Do you want me to pick you up, or do you feel more comfortable meeting me?

“Oh, my God. How sweet of him to ask that. What are you going to say?”

You don’t respond to her as you type back a response. You can pick me up. 9 sounds great. See you then! You add your address in as well, and you look at Daphne with wide eyes.

“Did that just really happen?”

“Yes, it did. Okay, shower first. Sleep next. You have an important date tomorrow that you can’t miss.”

Shower comes easily enough, but sleep doesn’t. All you think about is Jensen and the date he’s taking you on. You wake up right before your alarm, and you rush to get ready. Daphne is already up and in the kitchen, drinking coffee.

“Have fun!” she calls out when she sees you. “Don’t get pregnant.”

“Shut up,” you laugh. “It’s not that kind of date.”

According to your Ring doorbell, Jensen shows up right at nine. You’d invite him inside and chat for a bit, but you’re scared of what Daphne will say to him.

“You look nice,” Jensen compliments.

“Thank you. You do, too.”

The first place he stops at is Starbucks to get some coffee, and then he heads to the beach. It’s crowded but only in one section. Everyone wants to stay near the pier where the shops are, so you and Jensen walk further away to get some privacy. He’s wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses to hide his identity, and it’s working so far.

“So, how is life on the road?”

“Oh, you know. Four guys inside a small tour bus. It’s not as glamorous as you might think.”

“Still. It must be pretty exciting to go to different cities. See all your fans. Experience different cultures.”

“Yeah, it can be… when there is someone to share it with.”

A blush fights its way to your cheeks, and you look away before he notices. The walk on the beach takes over an hour because you two take your time, and then he takes you to brunch at one of the restaurants on the pier. You’re lucky that no one has recognized him because you want this date to be for you two.

It doesn’t seem to matter how famous he gets. He sticks to his roots. He knows he’s nothing without his fans. He wouldn’t be where he is without them.

The date has to end sometime, even though neither of you wants it to. Jensen even takes the long way home just so he can continue talking to you. It’s nearly noon when he drives up to your house.

“I wish we could hang out longer, but I have to meet my manager.”

“I get it. I had a lot of fun.”

Jensen reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Me too.”

“Can I see you tomorrow?”

“Unfortunately, I’ll be in Texas for my next show.”

“Oh, okay. I get it,” you nod.

“Listen, I only have ten more shows until the tour is done. The second I’m done touring, I’m gonna come find you.”

A wide grin takes over your face. “Do you promise?”

Jensen glances down at your lips. He takes the leap and presses his lips against yours. Softly, at first. Then, the kiss becomes heavier. It feels really good to kiss him.

“Even if I have to walk to you, I’ll find you,” he whispers against your lips.

“You better. Okay, thank you for the meal and coffee. I’ll see you later, then.”

Jensen kisses you once more before allowing you to get out of the car. He waits until you’re inside your house before he drives away, and you bite back a smile.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#queen-of-deans-booty #pairing: jensen ackles x reader #square filled: road trip

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spnaubingo · 2 months ago

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Over Summer Break

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~3.7k

Warnings: fluff, minor angst

Summary: Four years of being a camp counselor, and four years of getting to know the mystery that is Sam Winchester. You’re not sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing when your life is threatened by an invisible force. At least it brings you and Sam closer.

Square Filled: vacation au (2022) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated! <3

Year One

You’ve never done this before, but you’re excited to get out of your parents’ house for the entire summer. Being a summer camp counselor isn’t something you saw yourself doing, but you welcome the new adventure. Eight weeks out in nature without your parents always crowding around you. You can be free, at least for a little bit.

This is your first time being a camp counselor, so you got here a day early so you can help set up. The counselors will have a night to get to know each other and prepare for the kids the next morning. The owners have a huge clearing where campfires will take place, so that’s where all the counselors are at night. One night to be alone before the place is bustling with children of all ages.

You’re not one to go up to someone and start a conversation. It’s hard enough to make friends, so you’re content with being around everyone and enjoying their company. Everyone has already broke off into groups, mostly people who have known each other for ages. There are some new faces who are eager to make friends, but you’re okay with sitting by yourself.

“Hey, can I sit next to you?”

You look up and see the most gorgeous man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Tall, handsome, and muscular.

“Sure,” you nod. “I’m Y/N.”

“Sam Winchester. So, have you ever done something like this before?”

“It’s my first year. I needed to get out of my parents’ house for the summer. They’re a bit overbearing and controlling. They certainly didn’t seem to mind kicking me out.”

“Yeah, I hear ya.”

“What about you? First time here?”

“Yeah. It’s just me and my brother right now. He’s working for our dad who is out hunting at the moment. I wanted to do something before I return to Stanford in the fall.”

“Stanford, huh? That’s impressive. I’ve been hunting before, but I’ve only ever killed one deer. That was it for me.”

Sam chuckles. “Yeah, it’s not for everyone.”

The night drags on until it gets too late to stay up any longer. Kids will be here early in the morning. There are several cabins that the counselors will have to share, about four to a cabin. You’re paired with three nice ladies you met during the night, so you have high hopes that you’re going to have fun here. The cabin Sam is staying in is right next to yours, and the thought of being so close to him gives you butterflies. You’re not sure why.

“I kind of don’t want to go to bed,” you say.

“We gotta be up early. Kids come tomorrow. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“Yeah. Goodnight, Sam.”

“Night, Y/N.”

One of the activities for the kids is a talent show that will be showcased at the very end of camp, but kids have seven weeks to perfect their talent and practice. Some kids come with instruments and other activities. Other kids come with the knowledge that they will be learning something new this summer.

You and Sam have been hanging out as much as you can this past week, with some of your activities overlapping with each other. Right now, you and Sam are in charge of overseeing the talent show auditions, and there are a lot of kids who want to audition. It’s silly to call them auditions since every kid will get to be in it, but it gives them a chance to show off what they can do.

“These kids are terrible,” Sam whispers to you.

You giggle and push his shoulder playfully, trying not to laugh at them. Kids are sensitive beings, so you’re doing your best to make them all feel like they’re doing a good job. The kid on stage finishes singing her song, and you give her two thumbs up.

“You did such a good job, sweetie!”

She walks off stage, and the next kid walks on with a skateboard in hand. Oh, this should be good.

“You know, the talent show in my grade school was just as bad as this one,” you say.

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. I sang and danced. I was horrible,” you laugh.

“I would have loved to see that.”

“Oh, you can. My mother taped the whole thing.”

Sam is so easy to talk to and be around. If you’re not careful, you’re going to fall for him, and you don’t know if your heart will be able to come back from that.

Year Two

After checking in with the owner, you search around the camp for Sam. He said he was coming back this year, but a lot can change in a year. He’s back at Stanford now. What if he wanted to hang out with his college friends and party instead of hanging around kids all summer? Most of the counselors are familiar faces since they were here last year, but there are a few fresh faces.

You greet those you made friends with as you look for the one person you’re most excited to see. He’s not that hard to spot since he’s so tall, and a grin breaks out on your face. You drop your things and run over to Sam who is talking to another counselor. You jump onto his back, and he quickly steadies himself so he doesn’t fall over.

“Sneak attack!” you laugh.

Sam spins you around before you slide off his back, and he turns around to face you. “I was wondering if you were going to be here this year.”

“You said you’d sign up, so here I am. I’m excited to spend the next eight weeks with you.”

“I feel the same,” he grins.

Most, if not all, of the kids are returning for their second year, so the activities are smooth going. You’re in charge of a group of older kids, and you’re teaching them how to paddleboard on the lake. Sam got stuck with the younger ones, and you’re not envious of them. At least the older ones are easier to work with. Sam organized a painting class for the younger kids, opting to have washable paint instead of acrylic so that they don’t ruin their clothes.

His session is located to the right of the lake, and he has a perfect view of you teaching the older kids. You’re not the best at paddleboarding, but it’s a fun way to cool down from the hot summer sun. You stand on the paddleboard and try to demonstrate how to use it, but you end up falling backward into the water. Sam can’t help but chuckle in amusement.

“Is that your girlfriend?”

Sam looks down at one of the little girls who has washable paint all over her hands.

“No.”

“She should be. She’s pretty.”

Sam looks at you again who is now back on the paddleboard. “Yeah, she is, but don’t tell her I said so.”

The little girl giggles. “Your secret is safe with me.”

It’s shameful how much Sam has thought about you over the course of a year. He does his best in school, and he has a handful of friends, but his mind always goes back to you. How are your parents treating you? Have you moved out yet? Are you still going to school? Do you think about him? Does he wish you were his girlfriend? Yes. Tenfold.

However, Dean found him, and he can’t ignore the family business anymore. This is his last summer here. He has to see you once more before he disappears from your life forever.

That night, you tiptoe through the small cabin so as not to disturb the other women sleeping. You slip out into the night and walk into the small clearing between your cabin and Sam’s. Last year, you two snuck out almost every night to hang out alone, and this year isn’t going to be any different.

Sam takes you to a small hill near the cabins that overlooks the lake, and you two sit on the dewy grass. There is no light pollution here, so the stars shine brightly in the sky. You’ve never seen stars like this before coming here.

“You’re coming back next year, right?” you ask. Sam is silent. Too silent. “Right?”

Sam nods and looks into your eyes. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

You scoot closer to Sam and lean in so your shoulder brushes his. “You’re my best friend, you know that? I can’t be here without you.”

Sam glances down at your lips before looking into your eyes. “I’m right here.”

You rest your head on his shoulder and continue to admire the stars. Guilt creeps up his chest because he lied. He’s not coming back.

Year Three

You look over the check-in sheet for the counselors, your eyes immediately going to Sam’s. He signed up, but he hasn’t checked in. People have already formed their groups, chatting about what they did over the year. You have made more friends through this camp than you ever did in college or your hometown, but the one person who makes this ten times more fun isn’t here.

By the time the usual campfire sets up, Sam still hasn’t shown. He said he was going to be here. Your friends chat about what they’ve been up to, but you’re silent. He said he’d be here.

“Y/N, you okay?” Marcy, your friend, asks.

“Sam isn’t here.”

“His name is on the list. Maybe he put it down last year but something came up. Maybe he can’t make it this year.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you whisper.

You decide to retire early to bed. Suddenly, you’re not feeling the festivities. Tossing and turning all night doesn’t help the fact that you have to be up early tomorrow morning, but you can’t sleep. Sam isn’t here. He said he would be. You get out of bed and slip on your shoes before grabbing your flashlight. The cabins don’t have restrooms, so you have to use the restrooms in the main cabin. Luckily, it’s only a short walk.

On your way back, you look around the dark and quiet place. Everyone is in bed sleeping, and the moon shines brightly in the sky. A chill runs down your spine despite it being 80 degrees out. You look around the place, but no one is there. You feel eyes on you, and you’re not sure if you should be scared or just cautious.

You walk past Sam’s old cabin to get to yours, and that’s when someone steps out of the shadows. Before you can scream, a hand wraps around your mouth, and someone pulls you into their body.

“Shh, it’s me. It’s Sam.”

Your eyes widen and you turn in his arms to face him, his hand falling from your mouth.

“Sam!” You jump into his amrs and hug him tightly. You pull away from him and almost gasp at how different he looks. His hair is longer. His eyes are more tired. He’s aged. Shit must have happened to him this past year for him to look so different. “What happened? Where were you? I thought you weren't going to show.”

“I’m sorry. Late check in. I’m good now. Better now that I’m here with you.”

You reach up and ghost your fingers over a scar on his face. A small but jagged scar near his eyebrow. “This wasn’t here before.”

“Yeah. Dog attack.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” You pull him in for another hug, and he inhales deeply with his nose in your hair.. “I’ve missed you.”

“Yeah, I’ve missed you, too.”

You pull away from him and realize just how close you two are. You glance down at his lips, and he licks his lower lip.

“So, you’re staying here the whole summer?” He nods. “Good.”

What would it feel like to kiss him? You know it’d feel like Heaven. He seems to have the same thought because he slowly leans in. Your lips is an inch away from his when you hear someone speak.

“Sam? Is that you?” Just as the flashlight shines on you, you jump away from Sam with a blush. “Hey, man! You missed check in.”

“Yeah, late start. I’m here now.”

“What are you guys doing?”

“Nothing,” you answer.

“Well, kids come early tomorrow. You should get some sleep.”

“Yeah, we’re coming.” You look at Sam and smile. “Goodnight, Sam.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

This time, you’re with the smaller kids while Sam works with the oldest ones. They are playing a game of flag football, and all the boys are totally into it. You’re doing water balloon toss with the younger kids because it’s a safer way to stay cool than being in the lake. You’re tossing a balloon with one of the kids when you look up at Sam for the tenth time. Some of the kids are just as tall as Sam, so he’s having fun trying to win the game for his team.

One of the team tackles Sam to the ground, and he laughs even with mud all over him. His shirt is covered with mud, so he takes off his shirt, and that’s when saliva pools in your mouth. Holy hell, he is so handsome. Well defined muscles and a clear indention of his abs. You’re so distracted that you don’t see the water balloon before it’s too late. You gasp when it explodes on your chest, and the small child who threw it starts giggling.

“Is that your boyfriend?” the little boy asks.

“No.”

“You look at hi like my mom looks at my daddy.”

“How does she look at him?”

“With love.”

You partner the little boy with someone else so he can continue playing. You and Sam only interact at camp, never anywhere else. That’s not good enough for a relationship, but you can’t help but see yourself in one with him. Maybe next year will be different.

Year Four

The second you put the pen down after signing in, arms snake around your waist. You know exactly who it is without having seen him. His scent has ingrained itself into your brain. You turn in his arms and pull Sam down for a hug.

“You made it this year,” you grin.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

You and Sam are hand-in-hand as you walk to he board where all the activities are posted. The owners allow the counselors pick and choose which activities they want to host and divide the ones that no one signs up for.

“Listen. Tonight, I want to show you something. You know, before the kids show up.”

“Okay,” you grin.

That night, you wait for the other counselors to go to sleep before you sneak out of your cabin. Sam is waiting for you between your cabin and his, and he takes your hand. He starts walking toward the dense woods behind the cabins, and you giggle quietly.

“Where are we going?”

“Shh or you’ll scare them.”

The camp is surrounded by a huge lake, so it’s very warm and tropical most nights. Sam stops right before a clearing where the field is covered with tall grass. You two wait in silence for five minutes before the most unbelievable thing happens. One by one, fireflies pop up from the grass and light their ends, giving the entire place a romantic glow.

��Stop,” you gasp.

You walk slowly into the grassy field because you don’t want to scare the insects away.

“I wanted to show you this last year, but I never got a chance.”

You grin at Sam. “It’s magical. I love it.”

Sam steps closer to you, and you crane your head to look up at him. Regardless of how tall you are, he still towers over you like a protector. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and leans in closer. Maybe this time, you’ll kiss him. You close your eyes in anticipation, but the kiss never comes. You open your eyes to see Sam looking behind you, and you turn to see a flashlight roaming back and forth.

Ah, they’ve noticed you’re gone.

“Sam? Y/N? You here?”

“They must have found we were gone,” you whisper.

“Yeah.”

“How about we make this our nightly spot when we can.”

“Deal,” he smiles.

It takes everything in him to let you go, and you lead him back to the cabins. A busy week goes by utility ou find the one night you and Sam don’t have anything planned. The next morning, you’re able to sleep in a few hours later than normal, so you don’t have to go to bed early tonight. You walk through the dense forest over to your spot with a grin on your face because tonight is the night when you’ll kiss Sam. You’ve already decided it. Sam isn’t here, but you don’t mind waiting for him. It’s a warm night, and there is a soft breeze blowing.

Then suddenly, everything changes. The forest goes quiet. Not a cricket in sight. It seems like every single prey knows there is a predator around. The air thickens with tension, and you feel monstrous eyes on you. You turn around, but nothing is there. You walk further into the clearing and see the ground disturbed as if something large has trudged through it.

Something isn’t right.

Low growling sounds come from in front of you, but nothing is there. It’s like the growling is coming from something invisible. Yeah, you should leave. You don’t have time to run away because whatever was growling pounces on you. You fall to the ground by an invisible force, and you scream in terror. You can’t see it, but you can feel its breath and hear it snap its teeth. Slobber drips from its mouth onto your skin, and claws embed themselves onto the ground next to your face.

You’ve never felt terror like this, never thought your life was in danger. Sam breaks through the treeline and tackles whatever the hell is on top of you. You gasp and scramble away the second you get free.

“What is going on, Sam?”

“Stay behind me.”

That’s when you notice the machete in his hand. He can’t see the hellhound, but he knows exactly where it is based on the pawprints in the tall grass. The hellhound jumps at Sam, but he is prepared for such an attack. He swipes the machete through the air, catching the hellhound on the face. The dog yelps and backs away, but it isn’t done fighting. Sam runs at the dog and continues slicing through the air, hoping to kill it.

Sam hits the hard body of the hellhound and yanks the machete down, slicing right through its body. Black blood splatters Sam over his clothes and neck, and he pants hard. You can’t move from your spot. You’re still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Sam fought something invisible and made it bleed. Sam stands and wipes the machete on his jeans.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You look down to see red blood dripping from your hand. You must have injured yourself from the fall, or maybe the creature nicked you. “You’re bleeding. Let me help you.”

“What the hell just happened? What was that thing?”

“I will explain everything. Just let me fix you.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Even through the shock, you still trust Sam. The infirmary is located next to the owner's cabin, and thankfully, the door is unlocked. Sam locks it behind you two so that no one interrupts. You sit on top of the used doctor’s bed that one might have at an urgent care. The paper crinkles under your weight, and Sam gets to work cleaning your arm and patching your wound.

He’s done this before. There’s so much about him that you don’t know.

“What was that, Sam?”

This is where he explains who he is and what he and his brother do. Monsters, demons, and angels, they’re all real. He hunts them all. He travels across the country and helps those who need it. You should be terrified, but you fall for him a bit more knowing what good he’s doing.

“That was a hellhound. They’re invisible unless you wear special glasses. I don’t know what one was doing out here. They’re usually kept on a tight leash.”

“Are there more coming?”

“No.”

You reach up and touch the scar on his eyebrow. “Is that how you got this?”

“Yeah,” he whispers.

“So, you do this when you’re not here?”

“Look, that second year was supposed to be my last. I wasn’t supposed to come back.”

“Why did you come back?”

He looks into your eyes as he bandages your wound. “You know why?”

“Say it. I need you to say it.”

He tucks your hair behind your ear. He keeps his voice a whisper. “I came back for you.” Before you can talk yourself out of it, you lean up and kiss Sam. He slides his hands into your hair and keeps your head steady as he kisses you back. “Look, this is my last year. It has to be. My brother and I have too much to deal with now.”

“What if this is my last year, too?”

“I can’t bring you along, Y/N. My life is not a good one.”

“You make me feel like no one has ever made me feel. You make me feel safe and heard and dare I say loved. I love you, Sam. I think I fell for you that first year, but I never wanted to admit that to myself.”

Sam kisses you again, this time for a bit longer. “I love you, too.”

“Then take me with you when camp is over. Please.”

He pulls completely away from you. “We’ll see.”

“If you don’t, I’ll just follow you.”

Sam laughs. “Well, the motel rooms my brother and I jump from do get pretty lonely.”

“The more the merrier, right?”

“There’s a lot to learn about my world.”

You grab Sam’s collar and pull him closer to you. “It’s a good thing I have you to teach me.”

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#queen-of-deans-booty #pairing: sam winchester x reader #square filled: vacation au

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spnaubingo · 2 months ago

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Spells

Title: Spells

Bingo Square: Charlie/Rowena @spnaubingo

Pairing: Charlie x Rowena

Forever Babes:

@winchest09 @hobby27 @flamencodiva @donnaintx @polina-93 @katelyn–renee @deanwanddamons @sams-sass @lyarr24 @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @huffle-pissed @jbsgirl4ever11 @wonder-cole @jensengirl83 @zooaliaa @downanddirtydean @440mxs-wife @watermelonlipstick @ejlovespie

#that-one-gay-girl #pairing: charlie bradbury x rowena #square filled: charlie/rowena

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spnaubingo · 2 months ago

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Unsuspecting

Title: Unsuspecting

Bingo Square: Undercover Agent!Castiel @spnaubingo

Pairing: none

Forever Babes:

#that-one-gay-girl #pairing: none #square filled: undercover agent!castiel

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spnaubingo · 2 months ago

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Title: Merry Christmas

Bingo Square: Jack Kline @spnaubingo

Pairing: None

Forever Babes:

#that-one-gay-girl #pairing: none #square filled: jack kline

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spnaubingo · 2 months ago

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How To: Take Charge in the Office

This fic will cover the Sub! square on my @spnaubingo card.

It will also fulfill this gif request for my 2K follower celebration. The amazing @suckitands33 sent me the gif in the title card above. Hope you enjoy it, lovely.😊

Summary: It's your turn to try being dominant, but almost immediately you're quite sure that this isn't the role for you.

Pairing: Dean Smith x Reader (You) (Use of Y/L/N - your last name)

Warnings: Smut. Dom!Dean Smith. Sub!Reader. Short bit of Sub!Dean Smith and Dom!Reader. Oral Sex (M receiving). Face Fucking. Use of handcuffs. Tit fucking. Brief fingering. Spanking. Spanking with implements. Dom/sub switch.

Word Count: 2,096

A/N: So, this is part 4 of 4 in my little "How To:" series. If you want to read them

Part 1 is here: How To: Dress for the Position You Want

Part 2 is here: How To Avoid Distractions in the Workplace

Part 3 is here: How To: Work from Home

This one takes place a few days after Part 3. I hope you've enjoyed these naughty times with Mr. Smith! 😈🔥

Reblogging and/or comments make me smile! ❤️

Dean One Shots || Dean Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The divider below was created by @talesmaniac89

You were slightly in over your head. But Dean was handcuffed to his chair with his shirt ripped open and his cock out, so you were trying to just deal with it.

Dean had woken you up that morning in an incredibly pleasant manner and as you laid there panting, he asked you if you wanted today to be the day where you switched roles in the office.

A few days before, after a handcuffing incident went a little wrong for you, Dean had decided it made sense for him to understand what it was like to be in the sub position, and asked if you wanted to try being the dominant.

Reveling in your post orgasm bliss earlier, you’d agreed to try it out today, thinking only about riding Dean hard and fast at his desk.

But as the morning wore on, you realized you actually had no idea what to do, and you felt very self-conscious about trying it. But you so appreciated Dean wanting to make sure he understood your position, so that he could better keep you safe and pleasured when you played.

You knew he still felt terrible that the handcuffs he’d used on you had made you panic so much that you'd needed to use your safe word. But it wasn’t his fault, neither of you could have guessed at your reaction.

So, you didn’t want to disappoint him, or rob him of the experience he was trying to have for your sake. But everything you thought of doing as a dominant felt so foreign to you. Nevertheless, you’d try.

Five o’clock came and the office slowly emptied out. You’d asked Dean to wait until everyone was gone, since the last thing you needed was the added pressure of someone overhearing you. He was perfectly okay with that, and by five-thirty there was no one left around. You knew from previous play sessions that the cleaners wouldn’t show up until about eight o’clock.

So you had almost three hours to keep Dean at your mercy.

You entered his office and locked the door. Mr. Smith (the role Dean assumed during office playtime) sat behind his desk, the corner of his mouth hitched up as he watched you.

“Good evening Ms. Y/L/N.” He said softly. “I’m here at my desk as you requested. What do you need from me?”

His whole demeanor had changed. Where normally, Mr. Smith was demanding and brusque, his jaw set and his eyes scorching, now his voice was silky and his eyes were soft. He made no move, simply waiting for your instructions.

You’d agreed ahead of time that handcuffs were just fine for Dean, they didn’t bother him, so you walked forward, trying to appear intimidating, and tossed a pair of silver handcuffs on the desk.

“Put those on, so you’re handcuffed to the chair.” You commanded.

He picked them up and clicked one end around his wrist. “Only one hand?” He asked cuffing the other link onto the arm of his chair.

You nodded. “Yes. I want your other hand free for…other things.”

Mr. Smith raised an eyebrow. “Of course, ma’am.” He said obediently, but you crinkled your nose.

“I don’t think I like ‘ma’am’. Is it okay, if we just stick with Ms. Y/L/N?”

Dean nodded. “Whatever you want, Ms. Y/L/N, of course.”

So now that he was cuffed, you stripped off your blouse and A-line skirt, revealing your lacy undergarments, white bra, panties, garters and stockings. You kept your heels on as you approached his desk.

You could see Mr. Smith’s eyes blazing as he stared at all your gifts on display. Tentatively you put a hand on your hip and tried for a tough voice.

“Well, Mr. Smith, do you like what you see?”

He nodded. “Fuck yeah.” He said in a ragged voice.

“Watch your language!” You snapped, trying to get into character.

Dean swallowed. “Yes, Ms. Y/L/N. I’m sorry.”

You pointed at him. “Take out your cock and stroke it.”

He fumbled a bit trying to unbutton his pants and unzip his fly with one hand, but he eventually managed it, pulling out his half hard cock and beginning to pump it slowly. After a minute he spit twice into his palm and used it to ease the friction as he continued to jerk off while he stared at you.

Deciding you couldn’t just watch him, you approached him and smacked his hand away from himself. Then you ripped open his shirt so you could dip your head and run your tongue over his collarbone and down his smooth chest. You bit into his nipples gently, making him suck in a breath.

“You like that? Well, that’s what happens to boys who’ve been bad.” You said, shrinking inside a little. The words didn’t sound dominant, or like a reprimand. When Mr. Smith said things like that to you, it never failed to soak your panties through. But you just felt silly, like you were playing a part that definitely didn’t fit.

So, you stepped back again, taking a moment to just appreciate Dean in his slightly disheveled state, trying to enjoy the view while you thought about what to do next.

Dean cocked his head to the side a little. “Why do I get the feeling you aren’t really enjoying this.”

You shook your head. “No, no! Trust me, I really enjoy,” you moved your hand up and down to indicate his position and semi-nude state, “this!”

Dean smiled. “But you’re not enjoying being in charge are you?”

You shrugged. “It’s fine. I don't mind it, I mean, if you're...are you enjoying…not being in charge?”

Dean’s smile turned wicked. “Not nearly as much as I’d enjoy turning you over my knee and spanking that juicy ass till it's red.”

Your panties were instantly flooded and you laughed. “I think it’s official - we're definitely not playing the roles we were meant to play.”

Dean nodded, his smile dissolving into the stern and serious expression of Mr. Smith. “Then get these fucking things off of me.” He said, rattling the handcuffs.

You fished the key out of your skirt pocket and hurried over to him.

Within seconds of having his wrist free, Mr. Smith yanked you across his lap, pressing down on the middle of your back with one big hand and beginning to rain down endless, stinging blows with the other. You could feel his cock, hard and hot, pressing against your stomach as he mercilessly reddened your ass.

The panties you wore were essentially a thong, so every heavy blow landed on bare flesh, and he had no trouble making your flesh jiggle with every smack. Your ass was on fire and tears had begun to leak out of the corners of your eyes before he finally delivered the final blow.

For the moment.

He rubbed his calloused palm over your abused behind, providing both a bit more pain but also comfort. After a few minutes of soothing your stinging skin, he grabbed the crotch of your panties and pulled it up, forcing the material to slip between your fleshy lips, and rub against your clit.

The lacy material was too abrasive for your tender skin when it was pulled tight like that, causing a bit of a burn. But it also felt like heaven, rubbing against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

“This little cunt has been waiting for my strong hand, hasn’t it?” Mr. Smith asked as he pulled your panties tighter and made you whimper. “You need to know your place, Ms. Y/L/N? Hmm? Need me to make sure you’re minding your superiors, don’t you?”

You nodded fiercely. This was exactly what you needed.

“Get up.” He commanded suddenly, and you struggled to stand, your muscles sore, and your legs weak, but you did it.

Mr. Smith stood briefly and shed the rest of his clothes, ordering you to do the same. When you were both naked, he sat back down on the chair.

He beckoned you forward. “Bend over me, the way you were earlier.”

You followed his request and leaned on the arms of the chair, bending your torso so that your tits dangled over his lap. He pushed them together, to surround his throbbing cock.

“Fuck!” He groaned loudly as he pushed in and out of the cleavage he made. “All I could imagine earlier, when you were bent over me, was fucking these goddamn perfect tits.”

He grabbed your hands and planted them on the sides of your tits. “Hold them tight together.” He ordered.

As he continued to fuck up into your tits, he slipped his fingers through the slick between your legs and then shoved them deep inside you. You cried out at the intensely pleasurable invasion. But it made you stand up straight, clenching tight around his fingers, and letting his dick escape the channel of your cleavage.

He growled at your disobedience, and pulled his fingers free. He stood up quickly and turned you around, pushing you down over the desk.

He grabbed a thick, but flexible wooden ruler that sat on the side of the desk and raised it high in the air before cracking it down across your already sore, red ass. The new, burning sting surged over your skin and made you cry out again. Before you could take another breath though, the next strike landed, raising a purple welt.

Three more blows landed in quick succession across the incredibly tender sit spots of your ass, ensuring that you wouldn’t sit comfortably for a week.

Mr. Smith tossed the ruler aside and pulled you to standing. He wiped away the tears that had spilled down your cheeks. His voice was gentle, but firm, and it caused your stomach to flutter wildly.

“You know better than this, Ms. Y/L/N. Did getting a taste of control make you forget your place? Did it make you think I would forgive such insubordination?”

You shook your head. “No sir, I promise. Your fingers just feel so fucking good when they’re so deep inside me.”

Mr. Smith quirked an eyebrow and a calculating, slightly teasing look came into his eye. “Watch your language!” He said, repeating your command from earlier. “Let’s see if we can’t put that mouth to better use.”

He pushed on your shoulder gently, but you didn’t need any direction. You dropped to your knees immediately and stuck out your tongue. He chuckled.

“So fucking eager, aren’t you baby. Just need this cock, don’t you?” You nodded and he lifted his fat, swollen cock onto your tongue.

He began slowly, slipping down your throat an inch at a time, giving you time to adjust. But before long, his pace increased, and soon he was fucking your face with abandon, snapping his hips forward and making you gag and choke.

At last he pulled out and fisted his cock. He pumped it hard. “This is what you wanted before, isn’t it Ms. Y/L/N? You didn’t want me just jerking off while you watched, you wanted to be on your knees covered in my cum. Didn’t you?”

You nodded eagerly. “Yes, Mr. Smith. It’s what I always want.” You licked your lips and swallowed as you watched his purple cock slip in and out of his fist. “I always want you to use me, to take what you want from me, to punish me hard, and fuck me harder.”

Your words seemed to send him over the edge. With an explosive roar, he came all over his hand and across your face. You lapped up everything your tongue could reach.

Eventually, he crashed down onto one of the leather chairs on the other side of his desk. You stood up and went to the cupboard with the towels. You cleaned him off first, wiping off his fingers and running the soft cotton up and down his cock. After that you wiped off your face, and the bit that had dripped down to your tits.

When you were both all clean, you crawled into his lap, hissing at the pain of sitting. Dean pushed your hair back and kissed your forehead.

“Aw, my poor baby. I really went hard on that ass tonight, didn’t I?”

You chuckled and tucked your head under his chin. “Yeah, you did. But I definitely have ways you can make it up to me at home.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean said with a grin. “Gonna try out your dominant side again?”

You shook your head vehemently and laughed. “Hell no, that’s all you, but…” You reached your mouth up to his and licked it open, kissing him deeply, before pulling back, breathless.

“But, I do know how to ask really nicely.”

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora-95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@whimsyfinny @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

@aylacavebear @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @livya99 @k-slla @leigh70

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

@fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @lastcallatrockysbar @b3autyfuld1sast3r

#dean-winchester-is-a-warrior #square filled: sub!#pairing: dean smith x reader

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spnaubingo · 6 months ago

Text

How To: Work from Home

This fic will cover the Safe Word square on my @spnaubingo card.

Summary: What happens when you and Dean try to bring just a bit of Mr. Smith and Ms. Y/L/N home with you?

Pairing: Dean Smith x Reader (You) (Brief use of Y/L/N - your last name)

Warnings: Smut. Dom!Dean Smith. Sub!Reader. Implied sex. Oral Sex (F receiving). Multiple orgasms. Use of handcuffs. Talk of spanking, nipple clamps, and dom/sub switch. Use of safe word. Some fluff.

Word Count: 1,373

A/N: Okay, so I'm continuing with part 3 of 4 in my little "How To:" series. If you want to read them,

Part 1 is here: How to: Dress for the Position You Want

And Part 2 is here: How to Avoid Distractions in the Workplace

Just an FYI that I envision this fic taking place about 6 weeks or so after the original. Y/N and Dean have a somewhat established relationship now. You'll see how that plays out. Hope you all enjoy. ❤️

Dean One Shots || Dean Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The divider below was created by @talesmaniac89

You could barely catch your breath; your nails clawed at Dean's shoulders and he moaned but grabbed hold of your wrists to slam them at your side yet again.

“I mean it, sweetheart,” he warned as he looked up at you from the apex of your thighs, “if you can’t keep your hands where I put them, I’m gonna cuff you to the bed."

You whimpered and nodded, and Dean went back to torturing you with his tongue.

Last night had been the first night you’d ever stayed over at Dean’s; until now you’d shared your time at work and had a dozen or so evenings of dirty fun on his couch or yours.

But last night you’d actually gone to bed with Dean (Mr. Smith being left at the office). The night had consisted of hot, steamy sex followed by cuddles and sleep, and you woke up to Dean’s mouth on your neck. As soon as he knew you were awake, he’d skimmed his way down your body and took up residence between your thighs.

He’d been there for the better part of an hour, bringing on countless orgasms, but refusing to let you touch him. It was his way of holding on to a bit of the dominance of Mr. Smith and you absolutely loved it.

But his smooth, taut, tanned skin kept calling to you, and the intoxicating roll of his muscles as he moved over top of you simply begged to be touched.

What choice did you have?

So, as he once again enticed a screaming climax from you, you once again, buried your hands in his short hair, pulling a grunt of pain out of him before he disentangled your fingers and then threw your hands away as he stood up.

“That’s it.” He said in rough tones. A thrill raced through your body. All your fooling around and sex at home had been fairly vanilla, but since Dean was the hottest man in the world, and used his mouth and hands like lethal weapons, you certainly had no complaints.

You’d agreed early on to keep Mr. Smith and Ms. Y/L/N as kinky work personas, so on your down time, sex had been kink free. But now…

Dean pulled a pair of silver cuffs out of the top drawer of his bedside table and you tried to turn your grin into a pout. He yanked you into position so that he could pull your hands together over your head.

He clicked one cuff into place and lifted your chin so you were looking directly at him. “I warned you, sweetheart. Can’t keep your hands to yourself? Then this is what you get.”

You nodded contritely even as your body flushed with excitement over what kind of pleasurable punishment he was planning on doling out.

After clicking the second cuff in place, Dean crawled back into bed beside you and began slowly running his hands across your skin. The pads of his fingers were slightly rough and created the most incredible friction as he applied perfect pressure in all the right places.

His lips followed, satiny as they skimmed over your skin. His teeth were nipping and his tongue was flicking, setting your body aflame. Everything was progressing perfectly until you instinctively went to put your hands on him, and met the resistance of the cuffs.

Something about the unyielding metal and the way it bit slightly into your skin, immediately made a thick kind of panic sit low in your stomach, but you ignored it, trying to focus again on Dean’s extraordinary skills.

But you couldn't help straining against the cuffs, and the way your muscles fought to be free of the bondage without any success, the way you couldn’t feel any give in the restraints, increased the panic and began to make you hyperventilate.

A panicked gasp left your lips, but Dean must have heard it as pleasure because he just chuckled and kept going. Your mind began screaming, but all you could squeak out through your tightened throat was one word. Your safe word.

“Mississippi.”

Dean froze and his head whipped up from where he was teasing your belly button. When he saw the look of frozen fear on your face, he jumped up.

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

All you could do was yank at the handcuffs as tears began to fall.

“Oh, fuck.” Dean said quickly, scrabbling for the key in his drawer. He got the cuffs off as fast as possible, but it was enough time for you to lose your composure completely so that by the time you were free, the dissipating fear had you burying your head in Dean’s shoulder and shaking.

Dean tossed the cuffs aside and pulled you close. You felt ridiculous and embarrassed, but he just shushed you when you tried to apologize.

“Hey, no, Y/N. You don’t apologize, understand? That’s why you have a safe word, and you used it exactly as you should.”

He let you calm down a bit more before he pulled away slightly and brushed the hair back from your face.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I had no idea cuffing you would cause that kind of reaction.”

You shook your head. “No, me neither.”

A puzzled frown was etched into Dean’s forehead. “I’m a little confused though, I’ve held you down before, held your hands behind your back, pinned your wrists. Did that bother you?”

He seemed worried by the possibility that he’d done something to hurt or upset you previously, so you shook your head vehemently.

“I know, and I’ve loved it. Trust me, it’s never bothered me before. I don’t know why the cuffs brought this on, but it just felt different than when you’re holding me. Maybe it’s just that I like the feel of your hands on me so much, I never noticed. Or maybe…” You blushed slightly. “Maybe no matter how tight your grip was, I felt safe with your hands on me. With the cuffs, it’s just hard metal with no give, and they cut into my skin a little. I don’t know.” You shrugged, still embarrassed by your panic.

Dean nodded. “That’s possible.” He smiled a little sheepishly. “And I'm glad you feel safe with me. None of this works otherwise. You know, we never really talked about any of this. Like, hard limits, things like that.”

Your cheeks got pinker. “Cause we just sort of fell into it, and I didn’t want to ruin the fun with some kind of conference about rules.”

Dean shook his head. “No, see, cause I think there could be a lot of fun in having that conversation. Cause we get to talk about what’s a hard no, sure, but we also get to talk about what we want to explore more. For instance, I now know that for you it’s a definite no to any kind of bondage, but an overwhelming yes to spanking your ass till it’s flaming red. Also, how do you feel about nipple clamps?”

He reached out to tweak your nipple roughly between his thumb and forefinger and you gasped and then grunted in pleasure.

“I’m gonna take that as, ‘willing to try’.” Dean said with a grin.

You laughed and then reached over to flick his nipple with your fingernail. “And what about you? What kinds of things are you willing to try, either at home or at the office?”

A dark blonde brow quirked up as he contemplated you. “Actually, I think it might do me some good to try being in your position a time or two.”

Your eyes flew open in surprise. “You wanna be spanked?”

Dean chuckled. “I mean, maybe? But I was just thinking about trying some time as a sub? What do you think? Any interest in taking on a dominant role for a bit next Monday?”

You thought about it. Being dominant had never interested you, but until Dean came along, or until Mr. Smith had come along anyway, you’d never realized how hot you could find being a sub either. So you nodded.

“I’d definitely be willing to try. But,” you held up one finger, “no leather bustiers or spandex bodysuits.”

Dean laughed. “Deal.” He said, sealing it with a kiss.

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

@arcannaa @viviwatchestv @winharry @ladysparkles78 @kr804573

@whimsyfinny @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

@aylacavebear @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl

@hobby27 @waywardcheshire @livya99 @k-slla @leigh70

@eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96 @stoneyggirl2

@fanfic-n-tabulous @traiitorjoe @lastcallatrockysbar @b3autyfuld1sast3r

#dean-winchester-is-a-warrior #pairing: dean smith x reader #square filled: safe word

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spnaubingo · 6 months ago

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Title: You + Me = Huh?

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Word Count: 4,862

Warnings: None

Rated: Explicit

Summary: Dean relied on heat services—quick, impersonal, and just enough to take the edge off. Most alphas barely made a difference, but it got the job done.

Then the service sent him Castiel.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62873962

Square Filled: Alpha for Hire for @spnaubingo

#spnisthewayoflife #pairing: destiel #square filled: alpha for hire

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spnaubingo · 7 months ago

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Would It Be Weird?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: After a night of drinking, you and your friends stumble across a fire station crawling with firemen. One of them catches your eye, and your friends try their damnest to get you two together. It’s been a long time for you but maybe Dean Winchester will change all of that.

Square Filled: stranger au (2023) for @spnaubingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

“Bartender! One more round!” your best friend, Shelly, calls out.

Despite being busy for the night, the bartender refills more shot glasses and hands them over one by one. After the week you just had, you deserve to have a night out for celebrations. Hard work pays off, and your boss promoted you to a manager with a significant pay raise, and Shelly just got engaged. That is enough to call for a celebratory night out with friends.

“So, have you decided on a maid of honor?” you ask Shelly when she returns to the table.

“You, of course. Better do a good job or else I’m asking my sister to do it.”

“Hey, don’t insult me. You know I love planning a good party,” you grin.

“I can’t believe I’m getting married! This is so surreal! Janice, when is Parker going to ask you to marry him? You’ve been together, what, six years?”

“We’re taking it slow. We don’t mind,” she shrugs. “Don’t come at me without coming after Tina. The other day, I caught her and Ben doing it on the kitchen counter.”

“Tina!” you gasp with a smile.

“I can’t help it. We’re in the honeymoon phase.”

“You got married three years ago.”

“No kids make the honeymoon phase last forever,” she laughs.

“So we’re all in relationships except for Y/N,” Shelly smirks. “When are you going to let a man ruffle those perfect feathers?”

“Shelly,” you grit out.

“Don’t give me that look. You’re the only one out of us who isn’t in a relationship. You’ve been single for half a decade now.”

It’s true. The last relationship you were in just didn’t do it for you. You stayed with him for three years because you thought that’s what you were supposed to be doing. He wasn’t anything special. He didn’t make your heart race. He didn't make your skin hot and clammy. He didn’t make you weak in the knees. But being with him was better than being alone.

You know better now. Being single doesn’t necessarily mean you’re alone. You have a wonderful job, loving parents, funny siblings, and wonderful friends. You like being single, but there are times when you wonder if there is more for you out there than meaningless sex and hookups.

“Despite what you might think, I’m happy where I am.”

“Nope, don’t accept it. We’re going to set you up tonight. Girls, do you see potential matches?”

“Come on, don’t do this,” you sigh.

Your friends chatter amongst themselves as they seek out potential matches for you while you sit there like a bum on a log. You can’t be too mad at them. They want to see you happy. Plus, they might actually find your next love. Despite their best efforts, they don’t find anyone worth your time, but you do get free drinks by flirting with men.

By two in the morning, you and your friends stumble out of the bar in laughter. Your home is a few blocks away so you’re okay with walking back to your place even though you drove there.

“We’ll come back for my car tomorrow. Right now, all I want is pizza. I have some in my freezer,” you say.

You’re not so drunk that you can’t walk straight or you’re slurring your words but you are drunk enough not to be able to drive. Your friends, on the other hand, are more far gone than you are. Shelly is a giggle drunk, Tina is a loud drunk, and Janice is a sexual drunk. You’re a mom drunk, always trying to take care of those around you. It’s why you’re less drunk than they are. Someone has to be the responsible one.

“Let’s stop there!” Tina gasps loudly.

She points to a firehouse that has the garage doors open to let in the cool night are. Inside are about half a dozen firemen, all with big muscles and tight clothing. Your friends are already walking over to the station with you trailing behind.

“Hey, ladies. What are you doing out here at two in the morning?” one of the men asks.

“The bar just closed and we’re not done with our party,” Shelly grins. “We go every Friday night.”

“Why aren’t the firefighters in my distract as hot as you guys are?” Janice giggles.

You step into the station and immediately become sober when you lock eyes with forest green eyes. All the air is knocked out of your lungs, your body becomes warm with tingles, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. Shelly notices the look in your eyes and nudges Janice with a smirk.

“I’m Dean,” Green Eyes says.

“Y/N,” you smile back.

“What’s the party for, ladies?”

“I just got engaged,” Shelly grins and shows off her ring to them. “Y/N just got a promotion.”

“What for?” Dean asks.

“To be a manager. It’s more money and I’m in charge of a lot of employees.”

“I hope you’re a good boss.”

“A very good one,” you smile.

“Do you have any alcohol?” Tina asks.

She stumbles forward and knocks into you. You fall forward and end up in Dean’s lap. He’s leaning against one of the trucks, and he easily catches you in his strong arms. There go the butterflies again.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“Don’t be. It got you in my arms,” he flirts.

You turn in his arms but he doesn’t let go of you. In fact, he wraps his arm around your chest. Shelly sees the blush on your cheeks and is mentally doing backflips at the thought of you finding your one.

“No, alcohol. Sorry.”

“Y/N, you have some. Let’s go to your place,” Janice says.

“We were heading there when you guys wanted to stop here and talk to the nice men.”

You look past your friends and notice the firefighter pole in the corner, and you gasp happily.

“You have a pole! I’ve always wanted to go down one,” you grin. “Can I?”

“Maybe when you’re not drunk,” Dean chuckles. “How are you guys getting home?”

“Walking. I live a few blocks away. We drove here but my car is going to be parked at the bar all night.”

“Let me drive you girls just make sure you make it home okay.”

“That sounds amazing. We’d love a ride,” Shelly says before you can say anything. “Can we take the firetruck?”

“Do you want to take the firetruck?” Dean asks.

You pull away slightly and look into his eyes. How are they so green? Damn, his parents must have great genes.

“Sure,” you giggle.

“Don’t let the Captain catch you,” one of Dean’s friends smirks.

“Don’t tell him and he won’t know. We’re taking the truck, ladies. Hop in.”

Your friends whoop and cheer as they climb into the truck, and Dean helps you into the front. Instead of driving them all home, he just takes them to your house. It’s a short ride but you feel more sober now than you did when you first arrived at the bar. There's something about Dean that makes you want to remember the night. You want to wake up tomorrow and remember how green his eyes are.

Your friends pile out of the truck and stumble to your front door. You toss Shelly your keys so that they can go inside while you hang back with Dean for a few minutes alone with him.

“Thank you for the ride, Dean.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.”

You open the door and hop out, but Dean doesn’t drive away like you thought he was going to do. Instead, he rolls down the window so he can get a better view of you walking to your house. A man who waits for you to enter your house? That’s a man you want.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N,” he calls out.

“Bye, Dean.”

Only when he sees you walk inside does he drive off. Dean hasn’t left your mind since that night, even after a week of grueling work in the office. As a new manager, you’re expected to do more work and manage more than half a dozen employees. It’s what you signed up for, but you didn’t realize just how much of your energy it was going to cost you.

By Friday night, you and your friends went to the same club to unwind. This time, you didn't drive to the club because you don’t ever want to leave your car here again. Reports of cars being broken into came from the bar. Luckily, yours was left alone but it was enough to scare you from keeping it here again.

“So, what happened with fireman Dean?” Shelly asks with a grin. “Did you kiss him?”

“Shelly! No,” you laugh. “He just gave us a ride. That’s it. I don’t even have his number.”

“Maybe we should go back and get it for you,” Tina smirks.

“Leave the poor man alone.”

This time, you don’t drink as much as your friends because you’re kind of hoping to run into Dean again. You want to remember every interaction with him as you can, and you figure you can always drink at your house. Time flies when you’re having fun and before you know it, it’s already two in the morning. You and your friends pile out of the bar but pause when you see the shiny red fire truck waiting outside.

“Hey, ladies. Want a ride?” Dean grins.

“Dean, hi,” you smile.

The girls giggle to themselves at the starstruck look in your eyes. Thankfully, they don’t comment on it.

“Thanks for the ride, Dean,” Shelly grins.

The girls take their seats in the back while you’re still standing on the sidewalk. You take two steps toward Dean and end up tripping over your own two feet. Dean is quick with his reflexes and catches you before you faceplant onto the concrete.

“Now, if I wasn’t here, who would have caught you?”

“No one,” you blush.

“Exactly. Now I have to be here every time to catch you.”

Once you’re in the passenger seat, Dean takes off toward Shelly’s house. You give him directions to each of their houses until you’re the only one left.

“Thank you for driving us all home.”

“No problem,” he smiles.

You spot a Sharpie in one of the cup holders so you grab it and grab Dean’s right hand. You write down your number in big numbers so he can’t miss it.

“Call me next time you want to pick me up.”

“I’ll be sure to do that.”

You lean over and kiss Dean’s cheek before leaving the fire truck. He watches you with a slight smirk, only driving away once he knows you’re safe inside your house. This becomes a routine for you and Dean. He’s always there outside the club with the fire truck, ready to drive you and your friends home. One time, you had an Uber all set up but Dean refused to let you take it. Your friends are having a field day with this. They tease you about your new fireman boyfriend even though you and Dean aren’t dating.

Could you two be? Sure. He hasn’t asked you out nor have you asked him out, and you two have never kissed. You’re flirting, dancing around the edges of what could be. It’s enough for you right now even though it wouldn’t be so terrible to date him. It’s fun to have a sexy stranger waiting for you.

One Friday night, you’re the designated DD since you have to help your brother move tomorrow. Being the only one sober is hilarious knowing how raunchy your friends can get.

“So, when are you going to fuck him?” Shelly asks.

“It’s not like that. He’s just giving us rides.”

“I bet you’d like to ride him,” Janice giggles. Your entire face goes hot, and she laughs at the look on your face. “Look how red she is! You like him!”

“Drink your drink, okay?”

Throughout the night, all you can think about is Dean and how good he’d look on top of you or beneath you. Curse your friends and their no-filter mouths. By the time two rolls around, you’re leaving the club with your friends. Dean is standing outside near his truck like he’s always done the past few months.

“I’m the DD tonight.” You hold up your key. “No drinking for me.”

“When are you going to fuck her?” Tina asks loudly. “Because it’s been a long time for her.”

“Tina!” you hiss and look at Dean. “Sorry.”

“It’s no problem,” he smiles, “but I am driving you all home. You can call me tomorrow and I’ll drive you back here.”

“Why would you do that? It seems like a hassle.”

“It’s no problem.”

The girls hop into the back while you take the front, as per usual, and Dean starts the drive to Shelly’s house. While he’s driving, you can’t help but stare at him. He has such a great side profile. His jaw is strong and sharp, and he has a delicious amount of facial hair. Not too long but enough to feel the burn on your skin. Dean side-eyes you and smirks knowing you’re watching him.

“Want to turn the sirens on?”

“Yeah! Turn them on!”

“Can I?” you ask with a grin.

Dean shows you the button to press, and you flip the switch. The sirens go off and the lights flash rapidly, and your friends cheer and shout. Dean turns them off before someone thinks there is a real emergency. Dean stops at your house once all your friends are gone, but you don’t rush to get out.

“Thank you for driving them home. You didn't have to.”

“I wanted to. I like driving you home.”

Now that you’re sober, you can feel the tension between you two. This is going to be something you deal with another time, so you lean over and kiss his cheek like you’ve been doing.

“Goodnight, Dean.”

You get out of the truck and feel his eyes on you the whole time. Instead of going inside, you stop by your front door just staring at it. What the hell are you doing? There is obvious chemistry between you two. Are you really just going to ignore it and wait for someone else to snatch him up?

“Y/N?” Dean calls from the truck. When you don’t turn around, he gets out and lightly jogs over to you. “Hey, you okay?”

“Why did you drive me home?” You turn to face him. “Now I have to go back to the club to get my car.”

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow and drive you over there. Not in the truck, unfortunately.”

“That’s not what I asked you.”

“You were drinking tonight.”

“I was the DD. Why did you drive me and all my friends home?”

Dean rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Would it be weird if I told you I look forward to Friday nights knowing I get to see your smile?”

“No,” you mumble with a blush. “Would it be weird if I told you I only go to the club on Friday nights knowing you’re out there waiting for me?”

Dean steps closer to you with a smile. “No. Would it be weird if I wanted to kiss you?”

“It’d be weird if you didn’t.”

Dean pulls you into him and kisses you. It’s like how every romance author describes a first kiss. Sparks fly, euphoria flows through the veins, and you can’t ever see yourself kissing anyone else.

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#queen-of-deans-booty #pairing: dean winchester x reader #square filled: stranger au

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spnaubingo · 7 months ago

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all cards out!

all cards have been made are sent out! if you didn't receive your card, let me know. you have three more days to sign up or you'll have to wait for august!

#mod post

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spnaubingo · 7 months ago

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How To: Overcome Distractions in the Workplace

This fic will cover the “I give you permission to kiss me like that any time in an effort to keep me quiet.” square on my @jacklesversebingo card and the Multiple Orgasms square on my @spnaubingo card.

It will also fulfill this gif request for my 2K follower celebration. The amazing @suckitands33 sent me the gif in the title card above. Hope you like what I've done with it, lovely.😊

Summary: Mr. Smith wants you to practice dealing with distractions...him being the biggest one of course.

Pairing: Dean Smith x Reader (You) (Use of Y/L/N - your last name)

Warnings: Smut. Pure Smut. Dom!Dean Smith. Sub!Reader. Vaginal fingering. Hand spanking. Unprotected PinV sex. Semi-public sex. Multiple orgasms. Slight overstimulation. And okay, there's a bit of fluff. 😁

Word Count: 2,379

A/N: So, I got a fair few requests for a sequel to How To: Dress for the Position You Want, so I thought I'd do a whole "How To:" series with these two. There will be two more that will cover my "Safe Word" square and my "Sub!" square in my SPN AU bingo card. Not sure how quickly I'll get them out, but I'll work on it.

Just an FYI that I envision this fic taking place about three or four weeks after the original. Y/N and Dean have a somewhat established relationship now. You'll see how that plays out. Hope you all enjoy. ❤️

Dean One Shots || Dean Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The divider below was created by @talesmaniac89

Your legs were like jelly as Mr. Smith approached you in the conference room, his face set in determined lines as he closed the door. You couldn’t take anymore. Your muscles were so weak as it was, walking around the office already felt like running the last mile of a marathon.

All day he’d been cornering you. It started first thing.

You'd been in the file room at the end of the hallway, pulling the documents you’d need for the big board meeting that was happening at two o’clock. He walked into the cramped, slightly dusty room and closed the door behind him.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N. I wanted a word with you before the day started.”

You looked up at him as he approached you, your breath kicking up as you noticed the look of pulsing heat in his gaze.

“Yes, sir?” You enquired breathlessly.

He stopped three feet short of where you stood and twirled his finger in the air. “Turn around.”

You felt your stomach hitch and you turned slightly, still looking at him.

“All the way around. Slowly.” He corrected.

You did as he asked and when you faced him again, he was frowning. “Mm hmm…that’s what I thought. Your skirt is exceedingly short, far too short for the office.”

You smoothed down the little black skirt you were wearing. It came to just above your knee, but it did flare out quite a bit when you turned quickly, which you were all too aware of, and had planned to use to your advantage whenever your boss was nearby.

You pouted slightly and raised the hem of your skirt a bit, showing the silky slip underneath. “But, sir, I’m wearing something under it.”

Mr. Smith snorted and stepped closer so that he could slide his hand under the hem of your skirt. His big hand ran up your thigh and over your hip, pushing the skirt and slip up out of his way. A groan slipped out of him and his hard fingers flexed on your ass cheek, denting the skin.

“And no fucking panties.”

You grinned mischievously as you shook your head and moved his hand to the front. “Not true, I’m wearing a thong.”

He rubbed his thick fingers against the tiny scrap of fabric that barely covered your pussy. “Of course, otherwise you’d be indecent Ms. Y/L/N. And we can’t have that in the office now can we?”

You wanted to answer something cheeky, but lost the ability to speak when he pushed aside the tiny triangle of silk and took your clit between his thumb and forefinger. He rubbed gently and you fell forward, burying your face in the shoulder of his blue suit jacket. His fingers were magic and they worked you apart in mere moments. He didn’t even get push inside you, he didn’t have to.

The scent of him and the feel of his hard, thick body against yours was more than enough to already have you wet and aching. His fingers plucking and rubbing, teasing and tormenting you were more than enough to send you over the edge. You bit into the expensive fabric of his jacket as you came all over his hand.

As he pulled away from you, leaving you wobbly on your feet, he shook his head. “Meet me in my office after my nine thirty, and we’ll have a proper conversation about the company dress code.”

That proper conversation had consisted of him turning you over his knee and delivering a spanking that made it hard to sit down for the rest of the morning.

Then, just after lunch, you’d been in the Xerox room making the copies you’d need to create the binders for the board meeting. Despite the poor lighting and toner smell, you sort of liked the copy room; it was always warm from the machines and their hum was soothing. So, you were daydreaming and not really paying attention as the door opened and Mr. Smith came up behind you.

He grabbed your shoulder and spun you around. You were about to let out a scream of surprise and fear, but he slammed his mouth down roughly on yours before you could get out a squeak.

As he came up for air, he rubbed his thumb across your kiss-swollen lips. “Sorry, sweetheart, didn’t mean to scare you, or kiss you so rough.”

You shook your head, enjoying the moment of ease and lightness between you both. Usually, at work, the roles of Mr. Smith and Ms. Y/L/N were strictly adhered to. The moments when he was just Dean and you were just Y/N were reserved for after hours when you were at his apartment or yours, snuggled up on the couch. You both enjoyed the strong lines you drew between work life and non-work life, so you stuck to them.

But the odd moments where Dean popped up instead of Mr. Smith were still sweet. You kissed him softly as you shook your head, smiling at him. “I give you permission to kiss me like that any time in an effort to keep me quiet.”

He chuckled lightly and kissed you again, slowly, softly, sweetly. “God you’re so fucking perfect.” He said quietly when he finished.

Your eyes were shining as you gazed up at him. “Right back atcha.”

After a minute he straightened up and cleared his throat. Mr. Smith was back, and a thrill shot through you.

“However, I’m curious why, an hour before the meeting, you’re still gathering together documents. Shouldn’t the presentation materials be ready by now?”

“Yes sir.” You said, trying to hide a grin. “I’m afraid I’ve been a little distracted.”

Mr. Smith’s expression became calculating and he passed a hand over his mouth in contemplation, making you want his hands and mouth on you immediately.

“Hmm…I think maybe it’s time you learn to turn in good, timely work despite any distractions you may encounter. So, keep copying your documents and assembling your binders. Practice ignoring what I’m doing.”

“Yes, sir.” You said, turning back to the copier and knowing full well, you were going to fail.

He started off small, moving up close behind you and simply opening a few buttons on your blouse so he could tweak your nipples through your silk bra. But that small distraction alone caused you to accidentally set the machine for a thousand copies of something when you only meant to make ten.

He reached forward to hit the stop button for you. “Concentrate Ms. Y/L/N.” He said, his voice smug.

You nodded, but you were already gone again as he tucked the hem of your skirt and slip into your waistband and slid his hand down the front of your thong. He rubbed your clit briefly, just passing over it as he slid his thick fingers into your dripping hole.

Your knees gave out slightly. “Oh, fuck.” You whined as you slumped against the copier.

His other hand came around your body and pinched your nipple hard, making you cry out. “Stand up straight.” He growled. “And focus on your work.”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed out again as you tried to stand under your own power. But his searching fingers had found your sweet spot and were rubbing against it steadily. “Oh god, please.” You begged pitifully, but whether for more or less of him you weren’t sure.

He ignored the plea. “Concentrate.” He ordered again, and you nodded.

As he fucked you with his hand, you put through the last of your copies, trying desperately not to just burn to ash on the spot. As the papers ran through the machine, Mr. Smith dipped his head to nip at your neck, causing you to reach your hand up behind you and run your fingers through his hair.

He sped up the pace of his hand pumping in and out of your body, three fingers stretching you open and allowing your juices to run down your thighs and his wrist. As he pumped in and out of you, he slid his fingers over your g-spot, constantly bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Finally, just as the machine beeped the end of its work, your climax hit and Mr. Smith slammed his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet once again as you shouted out your pleasure. You convulsed against him, and as your climax ended, he went to work on the next one, and the next and the next bringing them on one on top of the other, and in record time.

By the time he was finished with you, you were slumped over the copier, skirt and slip both pushed to your waist, your thong around your ankles.

You could feel his cock rock hard against your ass just before he pulled away, and you were hoping he’d fuck you with it. Or let you suck him off. But he simply stood up straight and fixed his jacket and tie.

“I would say you failed this lesson, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll expect you in my office within a half hour for discipline.”

You straightened up slightly. “But the board meeting is in a little over an hour. I don’t have time to-”

“You will make time, Ms. Y/L/N or you may find yourself looking for a new position.”

Logically you knew of course that he wasn’t going to fire you. It was all part of the game, but you still hurried to put yourself to rights and get going on all the things you had to finish before the meeting. Compiling the binders alone would take half an hour, nevermind all the other things that needed to be set up in the conference room for the presentations that would be happening.

Which was why you never made it to Mr. Smith’s office. You’d finished the binders and rushed to the conference room to do everything quickly, before going to see him. You knew you’d be late, but at least you’d be done. But as usual there had been a million small problems that arose; every time you took care of one issue another one popped up.

People kept texting you and pulling you away from the conference room, so that by the time Mr. Smith was angrily stalking through the door, you were finally just finished, with barely twenty minutes before the meeting was to start.

You tried to head off his annoyance as the door clicked shut after him. “Mr. Smith. I was just finished and on my way to you.”

“Yes? Almost an hour late.” He said, still striding forward.

“Yes, sir. I do apologize but-”

You let out a squeal as he reached you and roughly bent you over the edge of the massive table. Without a single word more, he threw up your skirt and slip and began to spank you harshly. You were panicking as you reached behind you and tried to push your skirt down and stand up.

“Dean, what are you doing? Anybody could come in here, let me up!”

But he didn’t budge and you couldn’t move. He simply gathered your wrists at the small of your back before delivering a particularly solid blow, making you yelp at the sting.

“You think this behavior is acceptable? Hmm? You just ignore my direct orders and then think it’s okay to address me so informally?”

You shook your head, frantic. “No, no, but we can’t do this here, I mean…” He spanked you again and your pussy clenched. Your heart was pounding and you felt a little sick to your stomach at the idea of someone walking in and seeing you in this position. But if you were being honest, it was also unbelievably hot.

He paused briefly. “You using your safe word, sweetheart?” He asked, and you shook your head again.

“Good.” He answered as he kicked your feet apart. “Then shut up and take your punishment.”

You nodded as he yanked your thong aside and lined up briefly at your entrance before slamming himself to the hilt in one deep, hard thrust. He drove into you over and over, so hard you knew you’d have bruises from where he gripped your hips as well as on the front of your thighs from the hard mahogany conference table.

After a dozen strokes you could feel your cunt tighten, about to come again. But Mr. Smith brought his hand down hard against your ass cheek, the smack echoing around the cavernous room and making you chew on your fist to stop from screaming.

“You do not have permission to come, Ms. Y/L/N. What sort of punishment do you think this is?”

Your pussy ached from need, but you nodded and focused all your concentration on not coming around his cock as he slammed home and emptied into you completely. His hips rocked against you falteringly a few more times before he slumped onto you, crushing you slightly.

All too quickly, though, he stood up and pulled out of you; you whined at the loss. But you straightened up quickly, rearranging your clothes and trying to fix the mess of the papers that you’d crumpled beneath your torso.

You watched Mr. Smith tuck himself away just as the handle on the conference room door rattled. You gasped from fear but then frowned with confusion as the handle didn’t turn and then a small knock sounded.

Mr. Smith zipped himself up and then smoothed down your skirt in the back, before moving towards the clearly locked door. As he approached it he turned back to throw a wink your way, speaking softly.

“Don't worry, I gotcha baby, not gonna let us both get fired. This is way too much fun.”

You grinned at him as he unlocked the door that he’d obviously managed to lock earlier while you were thoroughly distracted by his annoyed expression and the prospect of what he might do.

He opened the door and walked out before a couple of other secretaries and assistants came in to get things ready for their particular executive.

You wondered briefly if they suspected what went on behind the closed doors with Mr. Smith, but you decided you just didn’t care. Dean was right; this was way too much fun.

@lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused @jzackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma @luvr4miya

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#dean-winchester-is-a-warrior #square filled: multiple orgasms #pairing: dean smith x reader

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spnaubingo · 7 months ago

Text

How To: Dress for the Position You Want

This fic will cover the Office Sex square on my @jacklesversebingo card and the "I work harder than everyone in this entire place." square on my @spnaubingo card.

It will also fulfill this gif request for my 2K follower celebration. The amazing @suckitands33 sent me the gif in the title card above, and I knew I'd be incorporating it into an office sex fic. 😊

Summary: Mr. Smith has some ideas about how to improve your position in the company.

Pairing: Dean Smith x Reader (You) (Use of Y/L/N - your last name)

Warnings: Smut. Pure Smut. Dom!Dean Smith. Sub!Reader. Oral Sex (M and F receiving). Spanking (w/Belt and briefly w/hand) Unprotected PinV sex. Edging. Aftercare.

Word Count: 3,122

A/N: I've never written for Dean Smith (I don't think - lol!) and so as soon as I saw the "Office Sex" square on my Jacklesverse Bingo card, I knew I had to write something for Dean Smith. ❤️ He looks so friggin' good in those suits!! 🔥🔥 Hope you enjoy a bit of naughty fun!

Dean One Shots || Dean Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists

The divider below was created by @talesmaniac89

“Oh! Mr. Smith!” You laid a hand against your chest in surprise. “You startled me. I thought everyone had gone home for the day.”

Your ridiculously gorgeous boss stood frowning in the company break room, a half empty cup of coffee in his hand. He shook his head, his voice angry.

“No, I'm stuck here fixing other people's mistakes.” He drained his cup. “As usual, I work harder than everyone in this entire place.”

You could feel the frustration and tension rolling off his broad shoulders and it struck you that now might finally be the time for you to try to make your long-running fantasy into a reality. You took a few steps closer and wore a sympathetic expression.

“Poor Mr. Smith. Always picking up the slack, always so worn out and stressed.”

You took a chance and put your hand on his bicep and squeezed. The hard muscle you could feel through his dark gray suit jacket made your stomach flutter.

Mr. Smith cocked an eyebrow at you. “Yeah.” He said quietly. “It's a real pain in the ass.”

You bit your lower lip and looked up at him through your lashes. “Is there anything I can do to help make you feel better?”

You watched his stunning, emerald green eyes darken and the truth of what you were offering seemed to hit home. He stepped forward, pressing you back against the counter before he tugged at the bottom of your old, cropped, college sweater.

“You can start by explaining the way you're dressed, Ms. Y/L/N. Workout clothes in the office?” He clicked his tongue.

“I was just in the gym downstairs.” You said breathlessly, chills of anticipation running up your spine at the way his jaw clenched. “I just came back up to get my purse.”

“No excuse.” He growled. “It's unacceptable attire.” He slid his hands up under the hem of your sweater, rubbing his surprisingly rough hands over the cups of your bra and the very tops of your breasts.

He paused a moment, staring into your eyes. His gaze was hot and intense, but it held a question too, and you nodded eagerly, letting him know you were down for whatever he had planned.

As soon as he got your nod, he wrenched the sweater over your head roughly, tossing it aside.

“Get into my office right now. It's time I hand out some much needed discipline, Ms. Y/L/N.”

A thrill of electricity shot through your body at the prospect, but playing along, you bowed your head. “Yes, Mr. Smith.”

He lifted your chin with the knuckle of his forefinger.

“Sir.” His lush mouth was set in a firm line. “You'll call me sir.”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage and you nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

This was even hotter than you'd imagined, and you'd imagined this scenario countless times in the six months since you'd been assigned as his assistant.

He grabbed your wrist and tugged you along down the hall to his office and pushed you inside, closing and locking the door behind himself.

He turned around and leaned against the door, folding his arms over his chest. He stared at you steadily without blinking and you nervously gripped your hands together in front of you.

Maintaining eye contact, he finally stepped away from the door and then let his suit jacket slip from his shoulders, tossing it over the back of a chair. He wore a crisp white button down shirt beneath it and he slowly unbuttoned his cuffs to roll up his sleeves, revealing his corded, muscular forearms. Finally he loosened the blue tie around his neck, undoing the knot and sliding it from under his collar to toss it on top of his jacket.

When he finished, he took a few steps towards where you stood in front of his desk. He turned you slowly so you faced away from him and pushed on your back so you bent forward a little, hands resting on his desk, making your ass protrude slightly.

He clicked his tongue again and spoke in disappointed tones.

“Sweats in the office? And ones that display this kind of message? Disgusting.”

You blushed because the word “Juicy” was emblazoned across your ass on the very old pair of sweats you worked out in.

His warm hand passed over the word before he raised it and brought it down hard onto your covered cheek.

“Is this really how you want people to think about you in this office? Hm? Want them to think about slovenly attire and sluttish behavior?”

You shook your head. “No sir, I'm sorry.”

Another spank warmed your other cheek before he squeezed your ass tightly.

“I could write you up for this, but I'd prefer we take care of it right now, between us. What do you think?”

“Yes sir, please!” You said earnestly. “I'll do whatever I need to do to make up for my behavior.”

“Good girl.” Mr. Smith said as he leaned forward to growl in your ear. “You can start on your knees.”

He lifted his hands off of you and stepped back so you could turn and face him.

“Strip.”

With slightly shaking hands you lowered your sweats and kicked them off your feet. You stood quietly in your white cotton bra and panties for a moment.

“All of it, Ms. Y/L/N. Now.”

Blushing from head to toe, body flush with want, you quickly unhooked your bra and flung it aside, before pushing down and stepping out of your panties. You surreptitiously tried to cover yourself, but he was having none of it. He pushed your hands aside and then turned you around to face the desk again.

He ran his fingers over the slightly warmed skin of your ass. “Hmm…got a nice little pink going here, but we’ll have to work on it a bit more, later.”

He turned you towards him again and reached for his expensive leather belt, opening the shiny silver buckle, as you sank slowly to your knees.

He slid his belt through the loops, pulling it free, and then draped it around your neck as you reached out to unzip his fly. The cold leather end and the hard metal buckle touched your heated skin and made you gasp.

“That’s for later.” He smirked and you shivered and nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

When his cock was freed it sprang up towards you, half hard already. You flicked your tongue against the tip and he groaned softly. “Fuck yeah, open wide.”

You dropped your jaw and let him feed you his enormous dick, gagging as it slipped down your throat.

“Are you good at sucking cock, sweetheart?” He asked, gathering your hair into a ponytail and using it to guide your head up and down his length, pushing his cock further and further into your esophagus.

Speaking was quite beyond you as you gagged around him, so you merely nodded. He pressed your nose into the curls at the base of his dick and held you there. You tried to breath through your nose, dropping your jaw to accommodate his girth. But your jaw still ached and you still coughed and spluttered as he pulled you off of him.

He let you catch your breath for a minute before he tapped his cock against your cheek. “Again.” He said curtly and you opened up. You closed your mouth around him as he sank into your wet warmth.

“Now suck. Hard.” He ordered as he began to pull himself back.

The suction of your mouth had him groaning harshly. You moved up and down on him quickly, sucking hard as you withdrew each time. You swirled your tongue around the head of his cock and he yanked your hair in reflexive instinct.

“Fuck.” He swore in obvious pleasure, but then he pulled himself free, and helped you stand. “You’re right, Ms. Y/L/N you do suck cock very well. So that’s earned you a few brownie points. But you have a lot more than inappropriate clothing to make up for. Turn around. Bend over the desk.”

Shaking slightly, you did as he said, bending at the hips, so that the edge of the desk pressed into the front of your thighs. He walked around the desk to open a drawer and pull out a document.

He plopped it down in front of you and then walked behind you. He grabbed the belt from around your neck and let the leather trail across your skin. He bent over you on the desk and you could feel his rock hard cock pushed against your hip as he leaned close to whisper in your ear.

“Before we go any further, sweetheart, you got a safe word?”

You nodded. “Yes. Mississippi.”

He kissed the corner of your jaw lightly. “Okay, baby. I’ll listen for it and stop immediately, promise.”

You smiled, grateful, but shook your head. “Thanks, but I can take it.”

He chuckled softly but his voice was stern again as he thumped the papers in front of you. “This is the email I asked you to write to Freeman & Sons. It’s riddled with spelling and grammar errors. You’re going to read it to me and every mistake is going to earn you a stroke of my belt, so maybe next time, you’ll pay more attention.”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered; your body was quivering with a mixture of cold, fear, and excitement. You began to read.

“Dear Mr. Freman…”

Crack.

The doubled leather connected with your skin and you gasped as the sharp sting shot through you.

“There are two Es in Freeman.” He corrected.

You nodded, and continued on despite the warmth spreading over your ass cheeks.

“I’m reaching out to touch base regarding our meeting of Septembre 4th-”

Crack.

“How do you spell September?” He asked.

You noticed your mistake right away. “S-e-p-t-e-m-b-e-r.”

“Good girl.”

He rubbed his hand over your warmed backside as you continued on, finishing the first paragraph without another mistake.

“I enjoyed our conversation last week and I'd like to-”

Crack.

It took you a moment to find your mistake this time and it earned you another fiery stroke of his belt, making you cry out as the sharp sting spread over your skin.

“Look carefully, Ms. Y/L/N, pay attention.”

After another minute of frantically searching, you felt his arm raise to deliver another blow. But then you saw it.

“The apostrophe!” You shouted. “I left the apostrophe out of ‘I’d’.”

Instead of the hard, red stripe he had planned for your backside, Mr. Smith just let it nip your skin, stinging like a little spark.

“That’s right. See what happens when you’re properly motivated to pay attention to the details of your work?”

You nodded. He’d never know that you’d deliberately ignored all the squiggly little, red, spell check lines in your documents as you typed them, hoping your mistakes would draw his attention. This little lesson was even more than you’d dreamed off, but you sure as hell weren’t about to change your ways now.

“Continue.” He told you and you did. The page-long email contained another five spelling mistakes and two grammar mistakes, landing you with another seven strokes. Your ass burned, but your pussy dripped.

“Alright Ms. Y/L/N, prepare yourself for ten more lashes, hard and fast, one more for each mistake you made.”’

You bit your lip and nodded, your stomach clenching.

He raised his arm high and brought it down with twice the strength he’d used previously, it made you squeal in pain, but he didn’t give you time to catch your breath before another blow was reigning down, causing more criss-crossing red stripes to form on your skin. All ten strokes were very powerful and landed one on top of the other.

By the end of the spanking, you had your feet crossed at the ankles, bouncing your ass up and down, desperately squirming and trying to escape the pain. But he had you pinned down easily and he was determined to make you feel every single blow.

As the last of the ten strokes fell, though, he tossed the belt aside and began to rub soft, soothing circles over your abused skin.

“Such a good girl.” He whispered as he pressed kisses down your spine. “You sucked my cock so good, showed me how seriously you take your position here. Then you took your punishment so well, showing me you’re capable of taking responsibility for your mistakes. I’m so proud of you, Ms. Y/L/N. You’ve earned yourself a treat.”

He slipped his hand down from where it was soothing your ass cheek, to slide between your legs. He chuckled.

“You REALLY took your punishment well, didn’t you? You’re fucking soaked from it.”

All you could do was moan gently as he stroked your clit lightly. He shifted slightly and suddenly he was the one on his knees, pushing his nose and mouth into your exposed pussy. His big hands spanned the backs of your thighs and pushed your legs wide open, so he could feast completely.

You stood on your tiptoes as he began eating you out noisily. The fact that your cunt was utterly drenched meant that the sounds of sucking and slurping penetrated the drab office walls, filling the room with the obscene noises and causing you to drip even more.

“Unf, fuck!” You screamed, slamming the front of your mound against the edge of the desk and trying to press against it just right to create the pressure you needed on your clit to cause your orgasm. But Mr. Smith knew what you were trying and he gave your thigh a little slap.

“Stop that, right now! You don’t come until I’m fucking you, you understand?”

You whined, but you nodded. “Then please, fuck me sir. I can’t take anymore.”

He speared your hole with his tongue and a hoarse scream came up from your throat. He fucked you with his tongue for several minutes before pulling back to to nibble at your clit and lips.

He pulled back to speak. “No, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready and not a moment before. You need to learn some discipline and a little restraint. Take what I’m giving you, and be grateful.”

Tears of need were in your eyes, but you nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

He teased your clit with his thumb. “I know, sweet thing. I have so much to teach you. You’ll get there.”

The idea that this lesson between the two of you may not be a one time thing made your heart flutter with excitement and anticipation. You already couldn’t wait for the next time.

But when, half an hour later, he was still teasing you, bringing you to the brink of your climax, only to pull away and kill it, leaving you to shudder and quake with your need, you began to wonder whether you’d ever survive another experience like this one.

As though he could read your mind and knew you’d hit your limit, Mr. Smith stood up and turned you to face him. He lifted you onto the desk, dropping you onto the very edge. The hard wood slammed against the bruised sit spots on your ass and you grimaced.

“Poor baby.” He said softly, leaning forward to kiss you slowly and softly. “I know what you want, what you need. You just hang on to me.” You grabbed onto his shoulders as he lined up his cock at your entrance. “Now, you’ve been such a good girl, and I’m so proud of the way you’ve behaved, so you have my permission to come as soon as you want and as many times as you want, okay?”

His voice was gentle now, and his green eyes were warm and moss-colored. You nodded. “Thank you.” You croaked. “Please fuck me now.” You begged.

He simply nodded and then drove into you, immediately hitting your sweet spot. He only had to slam the spongy head of his cock against it twice before you were screaming out your withheld climax, squeezing his cock tightly as he slammed into you again and again.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He chanted like a mantra. “You’re so perfect, goddamn! So fucking tight.” He continued to slam your g spot and you came again twice in a row, blinding spots appearing behind your eyes.

He looked down to watch himself sliding in and out of your body. “Look how good you take me, baby. Fucking made for my cock.” He slammed his hips forward especially hard, knocking against your cervix and causing you to press your heels into his plump ass.

He palmed one of your tits and dipped his head to suck your nipple into his mouth, drawing deeply, the tug sending a jolt of fire down to your cunt and making you come again so hard your eyes literally rolled back in your head.

This time he came too, giving a violent shout of joy as he slammed home one last time and poured into your pussy, hot and thick. As his hips rocked against you, you could feel him spurt inside you, filling you up so much that his come leaked out of you and dripped onto his desk. He buried his face in your neck as his body spasmed into yours a few more times.

After a few minutes reprieve, he stood up straight and pulled himself out of your body. He smiled at you, and your stomach clenched anew. You were already ready for more.

He helped you hop down off the desk and then pointed to the mess that had dripped out of you onto the wood, and that coated his cock.

“I think you should clean up your mess, Ms. Y/L/N.”

You nodded and started to move over to a small cupboard that housed a few cleaning supplies, but he clicked his tongue and grabbed your wrist to yank you back.

“No, no, Ms. Y/L/N. With your tongue.”

You walked back to him and dropped back to your knees to begin licking stripes up his cock before tackling the cooling, sticky mess on the desk.

As you cleaned him, he began to get hard again. He pushed his hand through your hair. “When you're done cleaning up here, I think we should hit the gym showers, and then spend a bit of time on the massage tables down there. I think your ass could use some soothing, essential oils and a massage, what do you think?”

You nodded. “Yes, Mr. Smith. I mean, sir.”

He grinned. “For the time being, you can call me Dean.”

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#dean-winchester-is-a-warrior #pairing: dean smith x reader #square filled: dialogue prompt

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