#Dean drabble

[grilledcheeseandtomato]

i fucking love this😳

dean winchester talkin' filthy to you

who wrote this.............i kept stopping between every paragraph to decide if i really wanted to go there - and i did, maybe i shouldn't have. so im leaving this here please hopefully enjoy, because this was crazy for me. this was exposure therapy.

mature content, 18+

“atta girl,” dean grunts roughly, his cock bottoming out inside you. his rough hands gripping your thighs to keep you from squirming away. “takin’ my dick so fuckin’ well like always.” 

you whimper beneath him, your eyes glossy as you look up at him — lips puffy from kissing, teeth biting into them. the stretch of him sending jolts of pleasure and pain coursing through your body. your fingers clutched at his hands where they’re planted firmly on your thighs, pressed to either side of your chest. 

“look at that pretty cunt, swallowing my dick,” he grins, his voice a rough rasp, eyes locked on where you’re split open around him. “just how i like you, sweetheart.” 

his hips never falter, pace unrelenting as he keeps fucking into you — balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. his grip stays firm on your thighs, keeping you nice and open as he picks up his pace. the head of his cock brushes that sweet spot inside you — the one that makes you see stars.

you moan out, your fingers clutching tighter at his hands. he’s doing everything he can to work you up to that peak, hips driving into you with a purpose. “come on,” he pants out, voice sounding almost urgent, “show me how good you feel when you cum on my cock.”

the vulgarity of his words do nothing to ease the ache between your thighs — only making you slicker. “goddamn,” he grunts, hips stuttering when he feels your cunt clamp up around him, “you’re fuckin’ creamin’ my dick.”

“please, dean.” you cry out, one of his hands leaving your thigh so his thumb can meet your clit in slow, rough circles. your eyes nearly roll back at the increased stimulation — the coil in your stomach threatening to snap.

“you gonna paint my dick white, baby?” he grins down at you, watching as you get more twitchy with every thrust. 

he watches as your back bows, mouth dropping open in pure pleasure, eyes growing more hazy. he knows that look anywhere — hell, he's memorized that look — the look of you finally reaching your peak. 

a grin spreads across his face, hips picking up pace, thumb rubbing quicker circles on your clit. “there she is,” he growls, lips pressing a quick kiss against your ear, “go ahead and cum.”

your body trembles in his grasp, your cunt clamping down on him, feeling every drag of his cock through your velvety walls. that familiar rush of warmth floods over you, and with a broken cry, you come undone, body shaking with the sheer force of it.

“easy baby,” dean croons at you, his hips slowing down slightly. “i ain’t done with you just yet.”

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist | dean winchester masterlist

[bruisedfig]

just know dean is overstimulation bastard that wont stop until you squirt or smth if you can

and that dean ``we cant afford to get attatched to people in our way of life, sammy `` purposely just do it raw,cockwarms n all that finger the rest inside again ``just to not waste it``

srry.ovulating

ohhhhh absolutely this is canon to me actually !!! this accidentally turned into a lil drabble so 18+

⟅ ੭ 𓂃 ˖ ࣪ .

dean doesn’t mean to overstimulate you. it’s purely for his own entertainment, just playing between your legs, seeing what he can make you do with his fingers and mouth and cock. but when he manages to get you to you squirt, lordddd does he go weak at the knees? it’s his favourite damn thing watching you whine and writhe, begging for some mercy. “jesus, baby. yeah, that’s it. look at me. you’re like a friggin’ fountain, sweetheart, just f’me.”

it gets his dick so fucking hard, watching you crumble underneath him. but it’s not like he’s even really trying; he just has that effect on you, making you melt into a snivelling whining mess.

and of course he’s making you cockwarm him, making you take him raw. he’s such a whiny baby, “please, baby. feels so much better without the latex crap. it’ll feel so good for both of us. please.” and so inevitably you give in, and he’s right, it does feel so much better.

and so you never fuck with protection anymore; you don’t even think about it until he’s suddenly cumming in you every time without even asking. it’s just habit now. and you don’t overthink it until he’s gawking at your cunt, watching his seed drip out. and you watch his face; it’s contorted in a strange combination of fulfilment and reluctance, like he’s holding himself back from something.

but that look doesn’t last for long, cause he’s suddenly got his fingers inside you, scissoring them around, plugging your hole with his thick digits. “can’t waste it, baby. can’t waste a drop. need you full of me. please, it’s so hot.”

it’s not until his ragged breathing calms and your eyes meet that you both realise perhaps these physical encounters have grown a little beyond… just physical?

[sunsbaby]

ּ𓍯𓂃 dean winchester x fem!reader | MDNI

your fingers dig into dean's face, squishing his cheeks together. your hips grind against his roughly. pussy dripping onto his cock every time you push yourself off of it.

"please, princess– i..i wanna cum." dean whined his hands grasping onto your hips, yet he held little power over you.

this is all because he thought it was a good idea to blatantly flirt with a stupid blonde bimbo in front of you—typical dean trying to rile you up. but what he didn't take into account was things might not go as planned.

"shut up and take it, be a good boy and maybe i'll let you cum." your breath fawned into his face as you practically growled, hips slowing just to tease him.

small whimpers left his swollen lips, deans eyes were hooded over with lust. you'd reduced him to a fucked-out-whore. as soon as your pretty pussy took in his aching cock he knew he was done for. this feeling was different than any other time he sunk into your tight walls. he swore he almost came if it wasn't for the stern look in your eye.

"please 'm beggin' babydoll, let me fill you up.." he cooed, his thumb brushing against your hip. "i promise it'll feel nice, all warm with my kids." he coaxed, softly moving your hand from his no longer pressed together cheeks.

you tried to be strong, but his words took over—the sliver of power grasping over you tight. you sped up, incoherent moans and words flow into the air, which was thick with sex, your finger nails rake on his chest. red marks left in your wake as you slammed yourself onto his thick cock.

"mmm, dean! oh, baby, right there!" you practically screamed as his tip hit that sweet spot, making your orgasm come crashing down.

"there's my pretty baby.." he murmured as he came, his seed spilling inside you, coating your walls.

his cock created a bulge in your stomach as you panted on top of him—chest heaving and drool drippling down your chin. he thought you looked beautiful, it's a good look on you. he'd make you mad a thousand times over if it meant the night'll end like this..

sunny yaps! ITS BEEN A BIT SINCE I POSTED I THINK!! IM SORRY IVE BEEN BUSYY BUTTT I LOVE U ALL SMM

special tags! @bluemerakis @littlesoulshine @h8aaz @figthoughts @starzify

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Shirtless Winchester

Pairing: Dean x reader

________

“Uh.” You stopped halfway into your bedroom, towel tucked under your arm around your bare body, messy damp hair down your back. You blinked, meeting a cheeky smile in return. 

Dean Winchester was on your bed, laying back, reading the romance book from your nightstand.

A very shirtless Dean Winchester.

“W-What are you doing in here? On my bed?”

“Waiting for you. For a book with such a cute cover they sure do some depraved things in this,” he hummed. You looked around and back into the hall, shaking your head. “You want to make out?”

“What?!”

“Do you want to make out?”

You stared at him, Dean putting the book down and walking over to you, tucking a finger under your chin so you looked into his eyes.

“Well?”

You inhaled and dropped your towel, Dean not breaking eye contact.

“Did that answer your question?” you said.

“It did. Posed another one though.”

“I bet it did,” you said, pushing on his chest, walking him back until he lay back on the bed. “I’m gonna close that door and by the time I turn around, those pants better be gone.”

“Or what?” he smirked as you already turned back towards the doorframe.

“You’ll see, Winchester. You’ll see.”

______

[rizlowwritessortof]

The Truth

I didn't get this drabble done in time for @artyandink 's Jensen-a-thon, but here it is, anyway 🙂

Just a little soft, tipsy Dean and a moment of truth

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 760

Warnings: None (although soft!Dean is a warning in itself)

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

You sink into fragrant, steaming water, a blissful smile on your lips. You slide down to rest your head against the back of the tub, breathing deep of the vanilla and lavender scent, appreciating with every cell of your body the relaxing quiet and the privacy.

The guys are at the bar, celebrating the successful end of another hunt. You had opted for a few hours to yourself, and after Dean finally gave up trying to convince you to change your mind, they had headed out, leaving you to enjoy a little private time. You love them, you really do – Sam is like the brother you never had, and Dean… Well, Dean is basically the bane of your existence, the temptation you won’t give into, the best friend that you won’t allow yourself to have benefits with. And sometimes you just need a break from the constant magnetic pull that exists between the two of you.

You soak to your heart’s content, finally exiting the bathroom and donning a pair of sleep shorts and an old ZZ Top t-shirt so old that you can barely read the printing on it anymore. You are all smooth, soft and completely relaxed, and you settle down into the comfy old sofa, bowl of popcorn in hand, smiling happily. You settle in with a little wiggle, turning the TV on and scrolling through until you find an old mystery movie.

You’re just getting into the plot when the door opens and your solitude ends. You can tell when they walk in that they’ve had plenty to drink, and you watch with amusement as Sam shoots you a crooked smile and heads for the shower and Dean attempts to remove his boots.

He almost falls over a couple of times, then finally plops down on the nearest bed, finally managing to get both boots off. He stands back upright, swaying just a little before he makes a beeline for the popcorn on the coffee table next to your feet. He tosses a few fluffy kernels into his mouth and plops down on the couch beside you. “Whatcha watchin’?”

“Just an old movie. Mystery thriller or something.”

“Black and white – classic.” He stares at the TV with you for a couple of minutes, then suddenly goes horizontal, head in your lap as if he belongs there.

You stare down at him with an amused smile. “Comfy?” He’s always a little extra affectionate when he drinks, but he’s never done this before.

“Mmmm, yeah.” He shuffles around a bit until he’s good and comfortable. “Hey, who’s that?” he asks, pointing at the TV.

“The actress? Barbara Stanwyck.”

“She’s pretty sexy.”

You grin. “Dean, you’d think a baked potato was sexy right now. You’re drunk.”

“Mmmmmm, that sounds good. But hey – I have fucking great taste, even when I’m drunk. Which I am not.” He’s quiet for a moment, then says quietly, “I think you’re sexy. And beautiful.” You let out a soft, derisive snort, and he turns to his back and looks up at you. “Why don’t you ever believe me when I say nice things to you?”

You hesitate for a second, then answer, a teasing tone in your voice. “Another thing you do when you’re drunk is lie to women.” His eyes are heavy-lidded and solemn as he blinks slowly, and your smile fades as he reaches for your hand, gathering it to his chest and holding it close.

“I don’t lie to you.”

The atmosphere has shifted, emotions you refuse to identify swelling in your chest at his words and the look in his eyes, but before you can begin to think of a response, Dean turns back to his side and settles in again, his scruff softer than you would expect against your skin. “You smell good.” He rubs his cheek against your thigh. “And you’re soft.” He lets out a contented little sigh, hugging your forearm snug against his chest.

In a matter of minutes he is breathing slow and steady, obviously asleep, and you stare down at him, the movie forgotten. Sam comes out of the bathroom just then, looking at the two of you on the sofa with a crooked smile.

“Need me to help move him?” he asks, and you smile back, ducking your head a little to hide your blush.

“No, he’s okay.”

“All right – just wake me up if you change your mind,” he says, crawling into one of the beds and shutting off the lamp, leaving the room dark except for the glow of the television.

Tags for my lovelies: 

 @saenalife    @deanscarlett    @jensensgotyoudean    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog 

   @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid      @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel  

  @darcia22    @winchesterprincessbride    @ellen-reincarnated1967    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess      @deanslittleangel2y5  

  @melanie451        @spectaculacular-sammy     @bookchic20    @jodyri    @selma-jean-blog   

        @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain  

  @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie 

   @tanithlowisabamf-blog    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic  

  @kreweofimp  @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma   

 @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirstblog     @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1   

 @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017    @bringmesomepie56   @akshi8278    @torn-and-frayed  

  @sandlee44   @wingedcatninja  @evansrogerskitten   @emoryhemsworth  @peaceinourtime82 

 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior  @sarcasmqueen74   @maliburenee     @mrsjenniferwinchester   @yeehawbitchs  

 @emily-winchester  @hobby27    spnbaby-67   @zepskies  @ladysparkles78  

@alwaystiredandconfused   @just-another-busyfangirl

[adriellej]

Destiel Headcannon - Migraines

Warnings: Nothing really, just Dean and Cas trying to be mindful of reader. 

Pairings: Destiel x Reader

Word count: 400+

A/N: I hope this is okay, I haven’t actually done Headcanons before, so that’s a first for me! I hope it’s what you wanted <3 I’m sorry to hear that you suffer from migraines. It sure isn’t fun to have to deal with. And so sorry it took so long to get to!

Request: Hey! can you do some Destiel x reader headcanons for a reader who struggles with migraines 24/7? I've been struggling with them for 3 years now. If this isn't your thing, I completely understand! @lokischickadee

When did they first realize you suffered from migraines?

Dean noticed one time when you were researching on a current hunt and you were rubbing your temples and eyes more than usual. He’d ask about it and you’d brush it off at first. He’d let it go until the pain would cause you to whimper and shy away from light and sounds.

Castiel noticed it before Dean, because he’d spent so much time observing humans, and he had truly spent many hours watching you. He wouldn’t understand much about it at first, he’d just notice you acting differently on the bad days of your migraines. He’d caught you taking some meds against it and asked about it. You’d been too tired to pretend it was nothing, so you had told him. You’d asked him not to tell Dean, and Cas always keeps his promises.

How do they feel about it?

Dean tries his best to comfort you, not only for you but also for himself. It hurts him when you’re in pain. He’d wish he could take it all away from you, he’d gladly take the pain instead of you. 

Castiel finds it hard to handle. He’d tried to heal you several times without any success. It would be frustrating for him, he’d feel less of himself because he couldn’t fix it for you. It was causing him to worry a lot more about you, and notice the slightest changes in your behavior. 

What do they do to try and make you feel better? 

Oh but these two working together to try and help you out, that was always a sight to be seen. They’d try and google their way through it at first, trying absolutely everything that Google said could potentially help ease the pain. They’d ask Sam to read up on it and help them come up with ideas. 

They’d make sure you didn’t skip meals, even though you said you weren’t hungry. They’d try to keep the lights off in the bunker, sometimes for them to stumble over things because they couldn’t see a damn thing. They would put cold towels on your forehead hoping the temperature change would help, and alongside that, they would also make you herbal tea to drink. 

Dean and Cas weren’t normally quiet when in company with each other and you, but on the bad days they’d be almost completely silent, only whispering to one another and you. They’d get angry at Sam for being too loud. 

But most of all, they would cuddle you day in and day out to help you sleep.

Tags (old tags, if you don't want to be tagged anymore, just let me know): @deans-cherry-pie1 @phoenixia67 @shadowpriestess6 @faith-in-dean @mysupernaturalfics @mrswhozeewhatsis @blacktithe7 @sassysupernaturalsweetheart @liger26 @poemwriter98 @lycangirl44 @aprofoundbondwithdean @harley7509  @chaos-and-the-calm67​  @leatherandwinchesters @that1awkwardfangirl @loveitsallineed   @1dstudyblr​   @irishdoll80​   ​ @blushingsamgirl @sis-tafics  @supernatural67brokenwings​  @ledledledledled​ @ilostmyshoereads @talesoftheimpala

[cleighwrites]

The Trouble with Love Is

SPN Fanfic

Characters - Dean Winchester, FC

Summary - Dean wallows in a bar after reuniting with a former flame

Word Count - 100

A/N - This was written for @justagirlinafandomworld's flash fiction challenge # 5. My song prompt was The Trouble With Love Is by Kelly Clarkson. This is my first time participating, I hope I succeeded! 

Warnings - angst, drinking as a coping mechanism

Dive bars at Christmastime we're the worst place to be with a freshly broken heart. Not that Dean had a broken heart; it was wounded at best, obliterated at worst.

Meeting her again after so long had given him the worst thing someone could have: hope. Hope led to all sorts of nasty things. The Kelly Clarkson song that was blasting through the dingy speakers reminded him: love would make you believe the lie, it was stronger than pride, and didn't care how fast you fell.

The trouble with love is... you've got no say at all.

So, he drank.

[lynhub]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° dean winchester trying to keep you quiet

mature content

IMAGINE... dean’s hand was clamped tightly over your mouth as his hips rocked behind you, slow and deep but relentless. your muffled whines slipped past his fingers, filling the quiet of the bunker bedroom. dean’s grunts were low and warm against your ear, sending shivers down to your core.

“jesus, woman,” he huffs, his breath is hot, “you feel so damn good.”

you tried to push your hips back against him, desperate for more, but dean’s free hand gripped your hip, holding you still firmly. his mouth brushing against your ear, his voice dropping even lower. “easy there, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his hand flexing on your mouth when you whine. “sammy’s right next door, remember that? gotta be good. gotta be quiet.”

you could practically hear your heart beating against your ribs, the risk of being caught making everything more intense. dean continues to thrust into you slower, deeper, the intense drag of him sliding in and out pulling a broken, muffled moan from your throat. his hand however, stays firmly planted over your mouth, a low chuckle falling from his lips when he hears the needy sound from you. “atta girl,” he rasp, hips snapping harder. “take it – just like that.”

dean's fingers seem to tighten even more over your mouth as he sets a new pace against you, the motion making your knees tremble. his breath is ragged and hot against your neck. “god, baby,” he groans, his voice wrecked, “you’re squeezin’ me so fuckin’ good.” his words send a need pulsing through your body. 

he’s making you feel so good, his hand on your hip sliding down to rub at your clit with a gentle, steady pressure. your body arches into his touch, eager for more, but the moment you try to fight the sound building in your throat, a loud, needy whine slips past his fingers. 

“you’re killin’ me, baby.” he mutters, his voice thick with desire, pace quickening.

your body trembles, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point of breaking. you can’t think straight anymore, all you can think about is dean, the way his fingers move on your clit, pulling desperate whimpers from your mouth under his hand. every thrust, meets that sweet spot inside you pushing you closer over to the edge.

he huffs against your neck sensing your impending release, his hips pick up, snapping against yours with reckless abandon. “let go, i got you, baby.”

with his hand still moving between your legs, your body responding on instinct. the coil snaps and you come undone, your back arching as waves of pleasure crash over you. dean grunts, his thrust turning even more frantic as he chases his own release. he buries his face into your neck as he spills inside you. his hips stuttering as he groans deeply, the sound reverberating through the quiet bedroom. his hand finally falling from your mouth.

before you can even fully catch your breath, the sound of a loud bang echoes through the door, followed by sam’s agitated, muffled voice shouting, “for the love of god, can you two keep it down?” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

WE BACK! first writing in like almost two weeks i think? idk don't quote me enjoy, i will be posting some more :)

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist | dean winchester masterlist

[bruisedfig]

jealousy games — dean winchester ⋆˚࿔

summary: after a nasty argument, dean decides to get back at you by flirting with another woman. you take it upon yourself to return the energy.

warnings: smut (with a plot!), oral (f. receiving), jealous/angry dean, angst?, manhandling, est. relationship (dom!bf!dean x gf!reader) 18+

⋆ .𖥔˚

dean’s hand slid higher and higher up the woman’s thigh as you watched from across the bar, your lips threatening to curl into a scowl at the sight. his eyes were on you, and that stupid, proud smirk on his face had you seething as you watched the excited blonde bounce around in the seat next to your boyfriend, giggling at every word that left his lips.

you huffed angrily to yourself and turned to face the bar again, having had enough of his little display. fine. if he wants to play that game, then you’ll play too. no big deal.

you swallowed the last of your drink and slammed it back down onto the bar, eyeing the place for someone suitable. your eyes landed on two men, who were both staring intently at you from their barstools a few seats up. the men were decently handsome and looked like they could take a punch if it came to it, so you flashed them a sweet smile.

the men grinned and turned to each other for a moment, exchanging a few quiet words before standing up and making their way over to you.

“hey, pretty thing. i’m dan… and this is mike,” the taller man greeted and gestured to his friend before leaning on the bar next to you. “you drinking alone?”

you tilted your head up at them and forced out a smile, “mhm, just blowing off some steam.”

the pair nodded and checked you out, eyeing you up and down with matching grins on their faces. “so what’s your name? can we buy you a drink?” mike asked.

you gave them your name and bit your lower lip, watching the men smile in response to your flirting. “actually, i kinda want to dance,” you said, smirking at them.

“oh, yeah? dance? we can dance,” mike nodded slowly, holding his hand out for you.

you chuckled softly, shooting a glance back at dean, before grabbing the man’s hand. “great, let’s go then.”

dean’s mind had completely abandoned the gorgeous blonde sat in front of him. his eyes were glued on you, and they had been since he saw the two men first make their way over to you. dean’s jaw tensed as he watched you lead the guys onto the dance floor, his grip on his beer bottle tightening, turning his knuckles bone white.

“hey, uh— are you okay?” the blonde woman asked, her brows furrowing in confusion as she noticed the scowl form on dean’s face.

“i’m fine,” he responded curtly, his eyes not leaving your figure as he spoke.

he watched the two men circle around you as you danced, like predators stalking their prey. dean could feel the rage beginning to flood his veins. he didn’t like this. not one bit.

as you moved in rhythm with the two men, you could feel dean’s eyes boring into you from across the bar. you could sense the anger in his gaze, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself in satisfaction; you were winning. you were beating him at his own damn juvenile game.

you moved closer to the two men and began grinding along with them to the music, feeling their hands travel over your body, demanding and brash. you shut your eyes and smiled, letting them guide you and your movements.

dean watched on from the table he was sat at, slowly sipping his beer with a sour expression plaguing his face as the blonde tried—and failed—to make conversation again.

but dean’s attention was still on you. he could barely watch as the men let their hands wander all over the places of your body that he knew so well, so intimately. the taller man leaned down and whispered something in your ear, making you throw your head back and laugh. dean’s jaw tensed again. he nearly crushed the beer bottle in his bare hand as he saw you pull the man back down and wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your chest against his.

then dean caught your eyes as you spun around to face him with a big smug smirk plastered on your face.

that was it.

dean abruptly excused himself from the woman and stood up, heading directly for you on the dance floor with heavy footfalls. you watched him, continuing to smirk as you rested your head on dan’s shoulder.

“we’re going. now.” dean snapped quietly, but firmly enough for you—and the two men—to hear over the hum of the music as he grabbed your upper arm.

“hey, man—” mike moved in front of you and dan, blocking dean from pulling you away.

“yeah,” dean laughed lowly, “i’m not talking to you, buddy.” dean let go of your arm and pulled his back, throwing his weight into a punch, landing a nasty blow on mike’s jaw.

mike stumbled off to the side, his hands immediately grabbing his jaw as he let out a deep pained groan.

“hey!” dan yelled and pushed you behind him. he stepped forward, up to dean, “what’s your fuckin’ problem, man?”

dean laughed again, darkly and unimpressed, but slightly amused by the man’s attempt to defend his friend’s honour. dean found your eyes, ignoring dan entirely, and spoke directly to you, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“i said we’re going. now.”

you laughed and shook your head, “no, i don’t think so. go back to that pretty little blonde.”

you grabbed dan’s shoulder and pulled him back to you, dismissing dean from saying anything further. dan hesitantly wrapped his arms back around you as he watched dean seethe from the corner of his eye.

“baby. now.” dean snapped, his face tightening in anger. “the ‘pretty little blonde’ was nothing. you’re doing too much now, and you know it.”

“do you know this guy?” dan asked you as he glanced between dean, mike—who was still rubbing his tender jaw with a scowl on his face—and you.

you shrugged, “not really. just some guy.”

dean scoffed and ripped dan off of you. dan grunted with widened eyes, clearly not anticipating dean’s strength. he stumbled backwards into mike, who let out another groan.

“some guy, my ass,” dean huffed and got in your face. “we’re leaving. now. let’s go.”

you rolled your eyes, despite his serious tone and expression. you glanced at the two guys with an apologetic look, “sorry, fellas. it was nice to meet you both. sorry ‘bout the…” you gestured towards your jaw.

dean pulled you towards the exit through the sparse crowd of drunken patrons, huffing angrily as you smiled back at the two men, whose faces were contorted in confusion and disbelief at the whole situation.

dean managed to pull you outside into the cool air of the parking lot and shoved you towards the impala. “you think that shit is fucking funny?” he snapped.

you flinched slightly at the roughness of his voice but continued smirking anyways, responding with defiance laced thick in your tone, “yeah, a little bit to be honest.”

“s’not fucking funny. get the fuck in.” dean growled angrily, swinging open the passenger door for you.

you did as you were told, sliding into the passenger seat and rolling your eyes as he slammed the door. dean walked around to the driver’s side and got in.

“how could you let them touch you like that? no one touches you like that but me. got it?” he started the car and turned to you expectantly, waiting for your answer as the engine rumbled in the quiet of the parking lot.

“oh, but it’s fine for you to touch that woman the way you did in there, huh?” you shot back, clicking in your seatbelt.

dean’s face hardened as he began reversing the impala, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white. “she was nothing,” he replied with a dangerously low tone.

“oh, yeah? you basically fingerfucking her at that table was nothing?” you snapped in a huff and crossed your arms.

dean pulled onto the main road and scoffed to himself. “yeah, it was nothing,” he said bluntly, keeping his eyes on the dark road ahead.

“i know what you were trying to do, dean.”

“yeah? obviously it worked,” he chuckled back mockingly, taking a moment to glance at your sullen face.

you scoffed and tightened your crossed arms, “fuck you, dean! you’re so immature, you know that? we have one little fight and you just go off and find the biggest bimbo to flirt with just to piss me off!”

“amanda isn’t a bimbo,” dean replied flatly, his tone mocking again, “she’s pre-med, actually.”

“i don’t give a fuck!” you yelled.

“yeah, you don’t give a fuck. that’s why you were practically fucking bert and ernie on the dance floor!” he snapped back in a huff, turning onto a side street.

you felt the anger begin to boil the blood in your veins as he kept speaking, acting like this whole situation wasn’t his fault, which only riled you up further. “well, maybe if you fucking treated me right, i wouldn’t have to go and find assholes to dance around with!”

“treat you ri— are you joking?!” dean scoffed in disbelief and shot you a look. “treat you right? you’re the centre of my goddamn world. i’d die without you. and you wanna cry about me not treating you right. i treat you right,” he growled lowly without taking his eyes off the road, his tone deep and venomous, your words clearly striking a nerve.

you let out a huff and looked out the window. “yeah, right whenever you want something,” you muttered angrily.

dean slammed a hand down on the steering wheel as the motel came into view further down the road, making you flinch slightly at the sudden noise.

“i do treat you right. i’m doing the best i can, damn it!” he turned to you, his expression a strange combination of anger and hurt swirling around on his tense face.

you rolled your eyes, which only seemed to visibly piss dean off more. “the best you can?” you began to raise your voice, “if the ‘best you can’ is flirting with another woman in front of me, then i don’t want your ‘best’, you fucking ass!”

dean shook his head, turning the impala into the motel parking lot. it fell silent as dean pulled the keys out from the ignition. his eyes dropped to his hands in his lap.

dean took in a sharp breath, “get inside.”

you turned your head to him, looking at his tensed jaw and the way his chest moved from heaving out rough breaths. you opened your mouth to begin speaking.

but you were interrupted by dean, “now.”

his voice was low and unsettling. it was disarming, having dean speak to you in a way that you’d rarely ever seen, let alone been on the receiving end of. okay, so maybe you pushed him a little too far with your antics. you knew about dean’s jealousy issues when it came to the people he loved, but to see it play out in real time had your heart racing.

“okay.”

was all you said, before hopping out of the car and walking to the motel room. dean followed quickly behind you and shut the door. he looked at you, his eyes now darkened and his mouth pressed into a firm sneer.

“i don’t wanna talk. i want you to take your clothes off and get on the bed,” dean said, his tone still disarmingly low and calm.

you swallowed softly and nodded—you couldn’t disagree. hell, you didn’t even know if you wanted to. your fingers found the hem of your shirt and you pulled it over your head whilst kicking off your shoes. dean watched as you silently undressed yourself, and he began pulling his clothes off too, still watching your every move like a damn hawk.

dean followed you onto the bed and grabbed your jaw with his rough hands, yanking you towards him. he met your lips with fervour, forcing your mouth open and shoving his tongue against yours, completely and utterly claiming you, reminding you that you’re his. and his only.

his grip on your jaw was tight, and it stayed that way as his other hand travelled down your body, ending up between your thighs. his fingers flicked over your clit, making your hips jerk in surprise as a gasp fell from your mouth.

“no, keep fucking still,” dean muttered against your lips before diving back in, tangling his tongue with yours again.

you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you. dean’s fingers began rubbing your core, forcing a wave of heat to fall over your body and pool in your stomach. he worked his hand between your thighs until he could feel your cunt drool and your folds puff up under his fingers.

he was rough and unforgiving with his hand, rubbing your heat quickly, like he was trying to channel his anger from the car and turn it into pleasure. you whined and whimpered into his mouth, and your legs began to shake from holding yourself up.

dean could feel you beginning to lose composure as you twitched against his hand. he didn’t let you break the kiss or pull away from his touch; his tongue kept dominating your mouth, lapping up your sweet taste mixed with the lingering flavour of alcohol on your tongue.

you hit your climax and moaned slurred mumbles into his mouth as a wave of pleasure crashed over you. he hummed as he felt your wet cunt quiver against his fingers.

dean pulled back from your lips and panted down at you, his free hand still holding your face, keeping you looking up at him. his face was still tense, and his pupils were completely blown out by desire. you could feel the anger and need radiating off him in thick heavy waves.

“you really think i treat you like shit, huh?” he huffed out, pulling his wet hand away from your cunt and roughly shoving you back onto the bed.

you fell back onto the pillows and looked up at him with wide eyes. “dean, i—” you started.

“no,” he interrupted, “that was a rhetorical question. i’d die for you, you know that? a-and you go and say that i’m a bad boyfriend. that i treat you like shit. that i’m not good enough.”

your eyes stayed wide as you took in his anger and the venom—that was barely just disguising the hurt—in his voice. dean shook his head at your silence; he knew his words were cutting deep, but he wanted you to understand how much they’d hurt him.

dean forced your thighs apart, letting his gaze fall upon your puffed up cunt, which was practically begging to be split open and used.

“yeah, a bad boyfriend,” he quipped to himself, shaking his head at how quickly he’d gotten you worked up like usual and how you still don’t even realise how good he is for you, especially like this.

you frowned up at him, watching the anger pull tight at his features. “dean, please. i didn’t mean—”

dean met your eyes again and sneered, “no, i don’t wanna hear it. you don’t say a thing to me, alright? you keep that mouth shut.”

he was dead serious. his chest rose and fell as he kept his hardy gaze on you, his eyes boring into yours.

you scoffed and rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the tension between the two of you. “dean, c’mon—”

he shook his head and delivered a quick smack to your cunt, the hit stinging your sensitive bud, forcing a whimper to escape from your mouth as your hips bucked.

“i said not a goddamn peep,” he repeated. his eyes continued to bore into yours, waiting for you to comply with his words—or not. he was ready to smack you again if he needed to, and you could tell.

so you nodded, not really knowing what else to do with this new side of dean you’d accidentally unlocked. it was unnerving, but exciting at the same time—the way he breathed through his gritted teeth and tensed his jaw, and how his darkened eyes travelled over your form beneath him, almost shrinking you down with his unwavering gaze.

dean swallowed and nodded back at you, “good. i’m not listening to another word of your bullshit. i’m not a bad boyfriend. i fucking love you.”

as soon as his words left his lips, his mouth had found its way between your thighs, attaching itself to your slick cunt. you mewled at his warm tongue lapping at you, and you watched as he worked at your core with fervour once again, practically smushing his face into your wet heat. he worked at you like he had something to prove, like your words held a truth in which dean didn’t want to admit and therefore had to disprove, not only to you but to himself.

he held your thighs apart with his hands, letting the fat of them surround his head, muffling the mewls and moans he was pulling from you.

you watched his eyes flicker up to meet yours for a second. he still looked angry, and it was almost like he was telling you off with his gaze. lay there and take it. let me show you how fucking good i am for you.

dean soon shut his eyes, falling into the pleasure of lapping up your sweet taste on his tongue, desperately pulling your core closer to his face like a man who’d just struck gold between your thighs. he moaned against you, at your taste and the way your hips began to buck up into his face, pleading for more. he held you down against the mattress with his strong grip, his mouth chasing your heat every time you tried to buck back up.

he’d managed to pull two orgasms straight from your core, his tongue licking up your sweet nectar every time you let go against his stubbly jaw. it was like he wasn’t even doing this for you anymore, but instead now doing it for himself, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he never wanted to let you go, like he was in some sort of trance.

“d-dean…. please,” you whimpered out, trying to buck your hips against his face and shove his head away from you, your fingers pushing against his sandy locks. “please, baby. can’t take— take anymore.”

his eyes darted up to your glazed over ones staring right back at him. he took in the way your face was all flushed and your chest heaved like you’d just finished a marathon. pride surged in his chest; a bad boyfriend? yeah, right.

he nipped at your clit, earning a cry from you, and finally pulled away, sitting up on his knees. the lower half of his face glistened with your slick arousal coating his stubble and lips.

you panted out weak whimpers as you looked at each other. it fell silent, and an uneasy tension filled the air around you both. you stared at him cautiously, your eyes flickering between his. you didn’t know what to say.

dean licked his lips and sighed, a heavy tense breath that added to the thick air surrounding you both. ��right…” he cleared his throat and shuffled closer to you. he grabbed ahold of his furiously red cock and swiped some precum from his tip, lubricating his shaft as he gently began pumping himself. a gasp fell from his lips, and he looked down at you, watching the way your eyes nervously met his as you awaited his next move, unsure of where his temper sat.

his warm calloused hand grabbed your leg, hoisting it up against his abdomen, your thigh pressing against his soft tummy. you grunted as he tugged you up and watched as he swiped his tip along your slit, earning a breathless moan from you.

“you want this?” he asked, teasing your folds with his member, tapping your bud with his tip.

you bit your lower lip and nodded.

“words. i want you to tell me you want it. that you want me,” he said firmly.

“i want you. ‘course i want you,” you murmured, your eyes flickering between his in earnest.

dean scoffed. your brows pinched together slightly at the sound, and a small strum of hurt moved through you.

“yeah…” was all dean said before he plunged himself into your wet cunt quickly, bottoming out inside you with a rough breath.

a pained moan flew past your lips, and you felt your pussy flutter around him, trying to accommodate the large new intrusion inside you.

dean’s hand gripped roughly at your leg, still holding it up against his torso, keeping you spread open for him. he leaned forward a little and kept his eyes on your face as he pulled his hips back, before slowly thrusting into you again. he watched as your flustered expression morphed into a look of pleasure—despite the lingering twinge of nervousness in your eyes that betrayed your true feelings.

he held you up against him tight, almost painfully so, as he built a rhythm, pumping in and out of you as loud squelching sounds bounced around the room. your already overstimulated cunt wept around his dick, sucking him in like he belonged there, like you couldn’t bear to feel him go.

rough grunts fell from dean’s lips, and his face scrunched up, his hazy green eyes locked on where you two connected. you couldn’t help your own sweet sounds from escaping as he pounded into you quickly.

dean pulled you up against him more, his free hand now grabbing at your lower hip, keeping you up at the perfect angle. his fingertips pressed into the fat of your thigh and his dick pistoned into you, hitting all those gooey spots that had you clutching at the sheets and whimpering at every thrust. his tip pounded against your cervix; it was rough, and you were sure you were going to be bruised in the morning, but the look on dean’s face and the way he throbbed inside your walls made it hard to care.

“d-e-ean!” you cried out, tears forming in your eyes from his harsh strokes. you felt that dizzying warm feeling in your stomach start to grow as you watched the absolute beast of a man above you rut into you like an animal.

dean’s droopy darkened eyes flickered down to yours, and you swore, just for a second, you saw a flicker of that usual dean softness slip through the angry exterior. he kept hissing and grunting with every thrust, not taking his eyes off yours, falling back into that pussydrunk trance.

“take it. just fucking take it. i fucking love you…. and you love me,” he managed to grunt out, his voice winded from plowing into you like a fucking rabid animal.

“i do! ‘course i do! please!” you whined, feeling your body begin to turn to jelly in his grip.

your weak pleas fell on deaf ears. dean didn’t let up his rough thrusts; he continued to piston his swollen angry dick into your sweet cunt. sweat beads formed on his forehead, and his heavy breaths began to turn into deep guttural groans, the sound only soaking you more.

“you fucking love me,” he moaned out, “but you tell me— tell me i don’t treat you right.”

you whimpered, not only at the feeling of your release quickly approaching, but also at dean’s words. he looked so pained as he rutted into you, his features pulled tight in a way you could tell didn’t come from just pleasure alone. the impact of your words in the car had stung him more than you could’ve anticipated, and his face showed that.

“i didn’t— i didn’t mean it! dean, please!” you moaned out hoarsely, feeling guilt begin to stab at your chest.

“i treat you right!” he snapped, adjusting his harsh grip on your thigh, pulling you closer to him—if that was even possible, and you had no doubts your hip and thigh would be speckled with pink bruises tomorrow.

“i know you do!” you cried out at the new angle.

“say it!”

“i— you— mmm,” you sputtered out, barely able to comprehend anything beyond the warm feeling bursting through your core.

“say. it.”

dean’s voice was low and downright scary. you’d never once had dean be so demanding and sinister towards you, or been fucked so roughly by him either. it made your heart race and your body shiver.

“you treat me right, d-dean!” you moaned, letting the hot tears in your eyes finally fall.

“that’s right, i do, baby. i love you. that’s why we’re so good together, yeah?” he replied breathlessly, now with an air of desperation dancing around in his words.

you nodded pathetically at his words, your scrunched up face mirroring dean’s as you both veered on the edge together. dean turned his head and pressed a gentle kiss to your ankle and then leaned his head against it as he looked down at your pitiful self. you could feel the sweat from his hairline on your skin and the sparks erupting from the minuscule contact he was finally allowing you to have.

“so close, sweetheart, aren’t you? squeezing me like crazy. just let go. i’ve got you,” he huffed out, his voice a touch softer than before, but still gruff and winded.

his softened tone forced the band in your stomach to finally snap, sending a shockwave of pleasure flooding your body. your pussy fluttered around dean’s cock, clamping down on his throbbing member, triggering his own release. he spilt his pearly white load into your gummy walls, finally slowing down his harsh unrelenting thrusts into a mess of weak movements.

“fuck— fuck, sweetheart,” he moaned gutturally and finally came to a still inside you, “fucking love you.”

dean pressed another hot kiss to your ankle before carefully dropping your leg back down onto the mattress and collapsing on top of you, letting your sweaty bodies finally press against each other. your chest surged with a warm feeling at his weight on top of you, finally feeling his body against yours. he buried his head into your neck, his heavy breaths tickling your skin as you panted together, coming down from the overexertion.

“i love you too,” you mumbled weakly, barely coherent as you shook beneath him. you wrapped your arms around his torso—there was no way you were letting him go, not when it felt so right to finally have him against you like this.

“i know you do, baby. i’m so sorry for today… m’so sorry,” dean murmured weakly into your neck and began pressing gentle kisses just below your ear, his soft earnest words tugging at your heartstrings.

“it’s okay,” you managed to get out, letting your head loll back with your eyes closed. one of your hands found its way to the hair at dean’s nape, and you gently threaded your fingers through it. “i’m sorry too. let’s— let’s not even worry about it, okay? let’s just be here… like this.”

“mmm,” dean hummed against your skin, “can do…”

you hummed in return and laid beneath him, trying to calm down from the high you’d both just reached. your racing heart began to slow down into a steady rhythm, and dean’s breathing against your neck began to settle.

after a short beat of silence, dean spoke up in a soft but playful tone, “hey, sweetheart? i just have to say it. i’m not sorry for punching that asshole in the face.”

you couldn’t help but laugh at his words and the cheeky grin you could feel against your neck. he was back. your dean was back. all the previous anger and tension from before had been stripped away completely, and dean’s raspy laughter filled the air with yours.

“yeah, ‘course you’re not, macho man,” you teased quietly, your voice saccharine and soft as you played with his hair.

dean lifted his head to look down at you, his green eyes flickering between yours. he looked almost boyish in his expression; no more creased brows, no more curled lips, or narrowed eyes. just dean. your dean.

“i’d do anything to protect you… to keep you, you know that? i’d punch any asshole in the face for you.”

“well, you know technically it wasn’t for me, it was—”

you grunted as dean’s lips met yours, shutting you up with a gentle kiss, much softer than the rough demanding ones from earlier. you felt him smile into it, and you knew all the animosity had been set aside and forgotten, which in turn, made your own lips curve into a smile.

fig yaps: posting this on valentine’s day feels wrong omg anyways i literally wrote the first two thirds of this in like… november i wanna say???? shit lives in my drafts too long LOL i loved writing angry/angsty dean tho like he just wants to be loved PLS my sweet little lovebug he’s so hot BYE

feedback and reblogs are welcome and appreciated! thank yaaa <3

✩ taglist: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4jackles @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @legalmente-loca @theoneandonlystonedspiderman420 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @winchester-whiskey @emeraldcrs @freyabear @daylighted @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @deansbeer @artemys-ackles @bluemerakis @misatxox @star-yawnznn @ambiguous-avery @starzify @dulcescorderitas @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @deanswidow @psychicnatural @ghostlyaccurate @k-slla

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[sunsbaby]

this was the perfect time to admire the interior of your car. dean's hand was smushing your head into the leather seats. white and red filled your vision.

"that's it..take it like the good girl you are f'me–" dean groaned from behind you, his hips slamming against your ass.

the sound of skin slapping against each other, and the smell of sex linger in the air. the scent mixed in with your cinnamon air freshener created a surprisingly pleasant aroma. your fingers grasp fail to grasp onto something. you were sure your backseat was messed up—both with sweat and your arousal.

"dean, oh my god, don't stop!" you managed to form and spew out even though your brain had been reduced to mush just by his cock entering your tight heat.

his tip brushed against the spongy stop inside you, every vein and slight pulse dragging against your upper walls bringing you closer to the edge. his hand tightened it's grip on your hair, forcing your face more into the drool coated leather.

"yea, yea–cum on my cock you dirty girl.." dean murmured as his hips stuttered, slamming his full length into you. his seed filling you up to the brim, mixing in with yours as you came right after. mewls and moans left your saliva coated lips as you came down from your high.

"you're cleaning my car, dean." you said as your mind cleared up and thoughts clearly ran through your head.

"yea, okay missy." dean said, pressing a kiss to your nape as he slipped out, the mixture of cum dripping out of your pretty pussy and onto the backseat, leaving its mark.

just as dean left his—inside you.

sunny yaps! A SILLY SMUTTY THOUGHT IN MY SILLY HEAD!! I LOVE YOU ALLLLL!

special tags! @bluemerakis @figthoughts @dulcescorderitas @h8aaz @deansbeer @starzify + anyone who wants to be tagged!

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 ® 𓂃 do not repost or copy my works without permission!!

[supernaturalfreewill]

Happy Flashback Friday! This one still kinda hurts. 🥺

Dean remembered the spot well. In reality, he could close his eyes and picture the view perfectly, down to the last waving blade of grass. It was the place you used to come together; for late night walks, for picnics and fishing out of the little pond, and for wrapping up in a blanket, sitting on the Impala and watching the stars come out. Now he was scanning the green lawn and the little gravel path, just hoping that you would be here. He wondered if you even still came… or if it was altogether just memories you didn’t want to revisit. It had also been the place he had said goodbye to you–the place he had seen you last, both of you with tears in your eyes. Maybe that overshadowed the good memories. Or maybe you didn’t even want anything to do with anything connected to him– “…Dean?” His heart leapt into his throat. He turned around and saw you standing there with a dog leash in one hand (connected to a big dog, incessantly wagging its tail) and tugging the headphones out of your ears with the other. “Hey Y/N,” he managed, his deep voice even more gravelly than usual. He stood up from the bench to face you. “What are–why are–what the hell?” you stammered out, shocked to see him standing there in front of you. “I guess this is a bit of a surprise,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets and taking a few steps towards you. “And who is this handsome devil,” he said, bending down to pet your dog and scratch him behind the ears. “This is Sarge, my rescue dog–but what the hell are you doing here? A bit of a surprise is an understatement.” A horrible thought surged forward. “Oh God. Are you in danger? Is Sam okay? What’s the matter?”

Dean’s face turned serious again as he stood and caught your eyes with his. “Everything is fine. I just was in the area and,” he shrugged, not sure what else to say. He couldn’t possibly tell you that he had been hoping to run into you, or that he regretted ever saying goodbye… “I didn’t know whether you still came here or not,” he added. You nodded and swallowed hard, still looking at him in disbelief. “Yeah. Well… a lot of memories here.” “A lot of the best,” Dean added. You tore your eyes away from his and pet Sarge absently. “And the worst.” 

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Bounty

Pairing: Bounty Hunter!Dean x reader

________

“Wait,” you said as the man who’d called himself Dean dragged you over to his car. “I’m innocent!”

“Innocent people don’t run, sweetheart,” he said. “You gonna be good in the backseat or what?”

“I was framed.”

“I’m sure you were,” he said, opening the door. He pushed you inside and quickly he was behind the wheel.

“I was framed!” You kicked the back of his seat and he turned around with a glare. 

“Because innocent people run. Right,” he said.

“I didn’t kill my boss. I was framed. He was an ass. Everyone hated him. I just fought with him yesterday out in the middle of the office so yeah, someone is framing me for it.”

“Not my job. You’re a wanted suspect and bringing you in is all I’m obligated to do.”

“I didn’t do it.”

“You got an alibi?” 

“I...I was alone last night. But I didn’t do it.”

“So no alibi. I’m gonna take you to the station now.”

“Please! Listen to me. I...I was...Mark! I bet it was Mark. He hated our boss, like hated him. Please, just give me a chance.”

“Nope,” he said. 

“Argh!” you shouted, kicking his seat again. “This is what I get for not going to fucking happy hour.”

He froze and looked you up and down.

“I talk. You answer and maybe we can avoid you going downtown. Understand?”

“You believe me?”

“No but never hurts to check facts.”

Two Hours Later

“I so so so owe you,” you said, Dean cutting you loose. “Whatever you want it’s yours.”

“Well I did miss out on the reward money,” he said. “But I’ll take a date instead. If you aren’t a murderer.”

“Well I think Mark has that all taken care of,” you said. “But a date?”

“Yeah. You’re sassy and throw a mean right hook and I like you. So a date tonight?”

“Alright. I’ll even buy since you really helped me out there.”

“Dutch?”

“I can go Dutch,” you said. “Mario’s at eight.”

“Mario’s at eight,” he said.

“This date goes well, maybe you’ll be the one in handcuffs this time.”

_______

[rizlowwritessortof]

Take a Shot

Written for @artyandink 's Jensen-a-thon event!

Let's face it, his henley looks good on both of you...

Pairing: Dean x F. Reader

Word Count: 935

Warnings: Nothing but a little good old-fashioned sexual tension, no smut, but Dean being Dean is a warning in itself 🔥🔥🔥 (Dividers by the absolutely lovely Daisy @firefly-graphics )

The tile floor is cool on your bare feet as you walk down the hall, your mind focused on the banana pudding left in the fridge from earlier tonight. If you can’t fall asleep, you might as well eat, right?

It’s kind of nice in the bunker when everyone else is in bed, only the dim light from the night lights that are always on in all the common rooms, the quiet hum of some mysterious machinery in the background, whatever it is that keeps the power on in this place. You shiver a little, the air cool on your legs. Why bother with pants when nobody else is around, anyway?

You’re halfway through the library on your way to the kitchen when Dean’s voice makes you nearly jump out of your skin, your heart pounding hard as you whirl around to face him. He’s standing across the room, a crystal tumbler of amber liquid in hand, his eyes shadowed in the half-dark. “Is that my shirt?”

“Damn it, Dean, you scared the living shit out of me!” you scold, your hand on your chest, trying to keep your heart from pounding its way free. “Why are you up? I thought you went to bed a couple of hours ago!”

An amused smile curves his lips. “Backatcha, sweetheart.”

“Well – I – I couldn’t go to sleep. So I wanted a snack.”

“Yeah, well, same here, and I wanted a drink. Mystery solved.” It’s slowly dawning on you that you’re half-dressed, and you feel the blush move up your neck, your cheeks warming as he stares you down. “You never answered me. Is that my shirt?”

You’re wearing a cream-colored henley that you may or may not have stolen – borrowed – when you were doing laundry last weekend. It’s so soft, and so big (because it’s his) and comfy, and yes, if you were being honest, you like wearing it because it belongs to him. It’s been against his skin. And you would deny that even under threat of torture.

“Yes, okay, I borrowed your shirt. And just for your information, I wouldn’t have come out here like this if I knew you were lurking around.”

“I’m not lurking. And just for your information, I don’t mind you coming out here like that.” In fact, he’s thoroughly enjoying the way his shirt looks on you. It’s soft, and it’s clinging just right to show every detail of the curves beneath – not to mention your perky nipples. No, he doesn’t really mind at all.

You can see his eyes sparkle even in the poor lighting, and you hope he can’t see your blush from where he’s standing. “Well, stop staring.” You turn your back and flounce from the room, heading to the kitchen and hoping with everything in you that the henley is covering your ass. You brush your hand back there, relieved that it is – barely – and walk resolutely to the fridge. Seriously, what the hell is he doing up, anyway?

You take the container and toss the lid into the sink, grabbing a spoon from the nearby drawer, and lean against the counter, taking a spoonful of the creamy treat and closing your eyes as it hits your tongue. So good. Totally worth a little embarrassment.

“So, you gonna share, or what?” You jump, startled again glaring up at him as he approaches.

“For fuck’s sake, Dean, could you wear a bell or something?” A thoroughly devilish grin flashes for a second, but he manages to rein it in quickly. You scoop another spoonful of the pudding, but he takes your hand in his and steers it up towards his mouth. You watch as he takes it in, those sinful lips closing around it and his eyes blinking slowly as he savors it with a soft hum. You feel your legs wobble a little, and things are clenching that should not be clenching just from watching someone eat banana pudding.

“That’s good.” He lets go of your hand, and after a couple of seconds you actually remember to take it back. You force your eyes down, but now the view is his shoulders and chest underneath another henley from his collection, this one a midnight blue, and he’s wearing sweats and his feet are bare. And you are hopelessly screwed. “Thought you were hungry,” he teases as you stand there with the empty spoon in the air, trying to remember how to breathe.

“I am – I was,” you stammer.

“Then why aren’t you eating?” He laughs softly at your defiant frown.

“Because you’re distracting me.”

“You started it.” You stare up at him, your eyes wide.

“Since when do you get distracted by me? You barely even notice me.”

“Shows how much you know.” You still stare at him skeptically, and he gnaws a bit at that plush lower lip before he continues. “Every night I walk by your door and I picture in my head what you might be wearing to bed. Some nights… well, let’s just say I really wanna open that door.”

You set the container of pudding and the spoon on the counter beside you, never taking your eyes off him. “Then why haven’t you?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m afraid you’ll tell me to get lost.”

You’re starting to smile now. “You know what they say, you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.”

Dean steps up close, his hand moving to stroke over your shoulder and down, curling his fingers around your arm as he leans in, his voice rumbling in your ear. “Oh, sweetheart – I don’t miss.”

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[what-an-idio-t]

Awwwwwwww😍

Imagine Buying Dean a Guitar 

Dean’s not much for celebrating his birthday. He’s perfectly content to just enjoy a cold one with you and Sam and Cas. And every year he cracks a half-hearted joke about how he never expected to live this long.

You know deep down he means it.

You always smile and clank your beer bottle against his while a little piece of your heart breaks.

This year is going to be different. You’ve been planning and scheming with Sam and Cas’s help.

Keep reading

[lynhub]

જ⁀➴ sundress season with dean winchester

mature content

you step outside the bunker, the floral sundress you decided to sport is swishing around your thighs. you’re not really one for dresses, but with how hot the days have been getting, the jeans felt like a death sentence. judging by the look in dean’s eyes and how they devour you from where he’s leaned up against the impala, it was a damn good choice. 

his jaw tightens, nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply – he’s exercising a control you both know he doesn’t have. “the hell you wearin’, baby?”

your head tilts as you feign innocence. “a sundress?” you remark, a little grin tugging at your lips. “it’s hot outside, dean.”

“oh trust me, i know,” he mutters, his voice low and gruff. his gaze drags down your frame, darkening with something unmistakable as he takes in the short dress. then, before you can even react, he pushes off the impala and closes the distance between you in a few quick strides.

his rough hands find their place low on your hips, fingers pressing into the fabric as he pulls you flush against him. he leans in, his breath is hot against your ear – low enough so that sam, sitting in the passenger seat, won't hear. 

“you’re lucky sam is here,” he murmurs, his voice rough with unconfined restraint. “‘cause i’d have you bent over the hood already.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

i hope you all enjoy! thank you for taking time to read my works it makes me happy.

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist | dean winchester masterlist

[bruisedfig]

just a reminder that dean winchester whimpers and looks up at you in awe with the biggest and sparkliest puppy dog eyes when you sink down onto his pretty pink cock. the feeling of your warmth enveloping his length is just too much; his jaw drops and his lids droop over his hazy eyes. and they roll back into his head when he finishes inside you, shooting his load into your cunt with a pathetic groan. he babbles on about how “you’re so beautiful” and “he’s so lucky” and he only shuts up when you finally kiss him.