𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄
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Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Warnings: +18 (MINORS DNI) smut, virgin reader!, unrequited love, heavy angst, reader gets hurt, kinda friends with benefits, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, language
Word Count: 7216
A/N: English is not my first language.
Song: 'Waste' by Kxllswxtch.
Dean's eyes narrowed as he treated your wounded hand; you smiled a little to yourself as he talked about how you sometimes behaved recklessly. If only he knew how much you cherished the moments when he protected you during a hunt.
You had been with him and Sam for a year now, and it was difficult to resist falling in love with him. You weren't sure when you fell in love with him, but you sensed it from the moment he smiled at you, or maybe in a random moment. Every time you glanced into his green eyes, you felt a sense of admiration. You had absolutely no complaints.
He complained as he was working to treat your wound, “You must know, I will consider kicking you out of the team if you keep acting like that.”
It began to rain in your house's weak light. Your heart was filled with fright as he took care of your wound in your house, where you were alone, and it seemed so calm; you were afraid of losing that precious, fragile time with Dean, not of ghosts. You weren't afraid of ghosts.
You asked naively, as if you had no idea what he was talking about, “Like what?” When he grabbed your hand too tightly unintentionally, and that sudden moment hurt you a bit, you attempted to draw it in toward yourself with a pained gasp.
With a look of regret on his face, you looked at him with understanding.
“When I tell you to get behind me, you must do what I say, or when I tell you to stop, you must stop.”
“Remember the previous case in point,” you sighed. “If I did what you told me, we'd both be dead.” You looked up to see how he was feeling.
“It was only a single exception,” Dean immediately defended himself, rolling his eyes at you.
“However, if I had listened to you, I would have been killed. You too,” you mutely remarked. You weren't attempting to put the blame on him. You were aware that he was guarding Sam and you constantly. You dropped your eyes to your eyes as he looked at you, feeling instantly overwhelmed and overpowered by his piercing stare. “I promise that when I go hunting, I'm not being careless. I truly listen to you, but you must have some degree of faith in me. Since I joined you and Sam months ago, I'm convinced he has more faith in me.”
You wanted Dean to think highly of you, someone whom he could always trust, just as you trusted him with your life. You wanted him to trust you, your strength, and your feelings. Even if you were quite successful, you felt that he still seemed to be unsure about you.
This time, instead of cracking one of his jokes to lighten the mood, he seemed to be deep in focus. When he appeared so confused and like he was in pain on the inside, you wondered what exactly he was thinking. Though you didn't think you could stop him from ruminating at that moment, you still wanted to help him if he was in pain, calm him down if he was feeling anxious, and comfort him if he was feeling uneasy.
The sense of worthlessness was an emotion you wanted to stay away from.
When he noticed that you weren't as happy as you had been minutes before, he stated in a dry voice, “I don't want you to get killed or hurt because of me. I do trust you, but you have to stop acting reckless and try to save me by endangering yourself.”
“I wasn't putting myself at risk. You're exaggerating,” you said as you continued to examine his hands while he continued to take care of your wounded hand.
“You're very stubborn, aren't you?” In an attempt to soften the thick air, Dean smiled back weakly.
You chuckled and tried to catch his gaze by raising your head as you drew nearer and moved on to where you were sitting. “But Sam thinks I'm the easiest one to get along with and easiest to persuade,” you said.
Dean winked at you suspiciously and said, “Hey, I guess you were right about something.”
“About what?”
“He's dumb when it comes to reading people, huh?”
You muttered, “Asshole,” and gave him a little leg kick. It made him laugh, which made you joyful.
Dean let go of your hand, gave you a long, odd smile, and checked his watch after making sure you were okay and being well taken care of. You could feel the joy leave your body when you realized he wasn't going to stay or anything. You had no idea how to get him to stay with you, at least for a day, at your home. Still, he was always on the move. It's fortunate that he didn't hear how quickly your heart was beating, how much you wanted his touch, and everything else.
You said in a hushed tone, as if you didn't give a damn whether he said ‘yes,’ but you cared like crazy. “You can spend the night in here if you wish.”
“I think I have other plans for tonight,” he remarked, flashing you his adorable grin and a wink. “We move so much throughout the day. The town must have missed me.”
You chuckled slightly and said, "By whom exactly, Mr. Loverman?” You noticed that the rain was falling more quickly through the glass.
Dean gave you a haughty look and stated, “By ladies, of course,” which made you jealous, but you didn't want to show it to him and ruin your friendship.
Playing with the fabric of your sweatpants, you said, “Boys. They come and go.” You attempted to ignore the vivid images of Dean with other women that were playing out in your head. It was unavoidable, but you didn't want to get jealous and mess up everything. “New ones appear all the time. Don't be worried about the women who missed you.”
He smiled and replied, “You're a smartass, aren't you?” You felt encouraged to continue since he didn't appear to be offended or anything.
“And you're overconfident in yourself. Have you yet to be rejected by someone? Not even once?” You said it inquisitively.
“Just once,” Dean remarked humorously. It eluded you whether he was being serious or joking. At times, it was difficult to understand him.
You tried to chuckle as you remarked, “Must be fun.” You sounded like you were going to choke though.
Dean spoke for a little while before attempting to get up and leave your home, but the electricity unexpectedly cut off, leaving you gasping in surprise. You backed away from him with a shy grin, not because you were afraid, just because you realized you had touched his knee.
You said, “Ah, it doesn't look like the rain is going to stop soon,” and to your relief, he sat back on the seat. As it was pouring heavily, you expressed your gratitude to God and Michael for their generosity and compassion, which you felt had come once in a lifetime.
At least once, you prayed that night's rain would never cease so Dean wouldn't go.
"Yeah," he said in a dry voice. It was your hope that he wouldn't feel stuck with you and let down. Dean was aware that although you weren't terrified of ghosts, you were fearful of being alone yourself in the dark. “Do you want me to light a candle?”
You timidly replied, “I guess I don't have any.”
“All right.”
“Are you still planning to leave or spend the night?” You tried not to seem enthusiastic as you asked, but with anticipation. You hoped that his ability to read your face in the dark would be poor.
“I suppose it's best if I stay with you. You're a lovely young girl who, in the end, is more terrified of the dark than ghosts. As a gentleman,” he murmured, moving to a more comfortable position on the coach. “It's my responsibility to protect and repay you tonight, don't I?”
You laughed as though he had made a joke, but in reality, you were only finding it difficult to hide your happiness at his answer that he would stay. The angels seemed to fill your heart with such incredible bliss. If it would force him to spend his time with you in that manner, you may put yourself at ongoing risk. You wished he understood how much you valued each and every word he said.
“How about you, though?” Dean asked out of the blue. Although his face was concealing himself in the darkness, you could tell by the tone of his words that he was perplexed.
You asked, perplexed, not understanding what he was talking about, “What about me?”
“I haven't seen you with...someone in a long time since you joined us,” he said. You may argue that he spoke slowly in order to carefully select his words so as not to offend you or cause you distress. “Actually, I've never seen you with someone nor heard you talking about anyone.”
You attempted to give him a confident smile, but all you managed to do was give him off an odd look. “Uhm,” you stammered out while attempting to think of anything to say without looking foolish. “Those hunts are challenging and exhausting.” You attempted to explain to him, “I'm not interested in seeing someone right now, and I can't find time for myself.” You were hoping he wouldn't dig too much.
You weren’t the best when it came to lying.
As if he wasn't okay with your explanation, he grumbled, “We've been staying here for a month, and we are not even that busy.”
You wouldn't tell Dean that you were an inexperienced one in your mid-20s, as you knew he was very skilled with women. You just could not possibly make yourself look so foolish in front of him. You were unsure what he would think about you. Definitely, it was best to remain silent.
You said, “I'm just not interested and feel like I have no time for anyone,” trying not to sound like lying. Although it wasn't a total lie, how in the world could you admit that you were truly interested in someone, him, and that's the reason you weren't interested in anybody else?
You wanted he could read the words on your lips and your voice so you wouldn't have been trying so hard to explain things to him while hiding yourself away from him for so long.
Love was something that both wanted to be hidden and to be revealed. It was complicated and bizarre.
Dean finally responded, “You're right, actually,” after giving you a long stare. “You should avoid things that might distract the focus of your attention. Men might easily split your soft and lovely heart in half.”
You asked, irritated, “Why do you say that?” You always believed that since you avoided people so well, nobody would ever consider hurting you or anything like that.
As he moved a little closer to you, Dean smirked and remarked, “Like you say,” which made you tense. You couldn't see him well, but his smile was joyful. Before continuing, he arched an eyebrow and nibbled his bottom lip. “I'm ladies' man. I read women really well, and you're easy to see through.”
You said to him, “You really are a ladies' man. But I'd say you are illiterate.”
Dean gave you a small chuckle and made the decision not to push you too far or make you feel more shy. And anyhow, he wouldn't allow you to talk about males, not right now. You did not require guidance since you did well on your own. “Hey, I see that you’re a little sharp today. After taking care of your wounded hand, I made the decision to spend the night with you and look how you treat me. You're being ungrateful.”
He made a false furious look at you, and you couldn't stop laughing. “You do realize, though, that I have once again saved your ass. I'm beginning to feel like you must repay me for acting as your guard. Like an angel.” You gave him a little smile and added, “That means something, right?”
Dean said, “It does,” with the same lighthearted tone as you, his eyes examining your face up close in the dark as your smile slowly faded from the corners of your lips.
You gasped in surprise and fright when an unexpected lightning strike struck with such force it seemed like the sky had been split in half. Dean laughed, seeing as how you really jumped on the coach.
“I can't believe you're not afraid of ghosts, witches and all, but just some raindrops,” he stated in astonishment. Your pulse beat like crazy when you felt his breath close to you, but Dean probably assumed it was because you were frightened.
Both of your arms and legs touched, but you tried not to react. “I'm not afraid of rainy weather or something,” you replied. “It's normal to be jumpy when an unexpected noise like lightning appears.”
In an attempt to annoy you, Dean said in a persuasive voice, “It was just simple lightning. Many things might come as unexpected. You can't always get scared.”
You said, “Like what things?” as if in plea.
You stared at his wonderfully shaped lips in the darkness as he spoke in a whisper. Your lips felt so dry that you wanted to lick them. Although you hoped he didn't notice, at that point you weren't really worried. Yes, you were a virgin with no prior experience, and you were very determined to keep your body and mind closed off to others, but things seemed different when you met Dean. It wasn't that you were old-fashioned-minded; you just wanted to be with someone you cared for, someone you loved.
You were aware that the desire to be near him was more than simply passion; you wanted to touch his face, jaw, hair, and every other part of him. Your soul yearned to be near him desperately.
Dean failed to notice when another lightning strike made you jump. It wasn't the finest moment for him to think clearly. There was always something enjoyable to do. Given that you've known each other for a while and that it must have been a while since you allowed someone to touch you, it seemed appropriate to blow off steam with each other. It was, after all, a difficult and somewhat tiresome a few hours earlier.
Just when you thought you were going to pass out, Dean suddenly captured your lips and began to give you an urgent, intense kiss. Yes, you were somewhat inexperienced, but at least you've had a kiss. Quite some time ago, indeed. You made an effort to calm down, returned his kisses with your best effort, let your racing thoughts disappear into the darkness, and gave yourself over to that single perfect moment.
You sucked Dean's lower lip, and your fingers stroked his jaw as his skillful tongue dominated yours. He must have been encouraged by your response because he moaned a bit as he shoved you back on the coach and pushed you to lie under him. He kept giving you firm kisses throughout.
His muscular neck was stroked by your hands as you drew him in between your knees. You shuddered as he put his body between your legs. It was the realization that your body was missing something that you were unable to identify. Your entire body exuded passion and desire. It hurt to need Dean so much. You had no idea how you had been able to contain yourself for so long.
You were longing to touch him all over.
Dean moved his lips to your throat, allowing you to take a deep breath. You were unable to contain a giggle as he violently sucked on your neck and throat. You realized you were sensitive there.
“Don't keep those lovely noises from me. Are we not the only ones alone in here?” While he boldly touched your skin beneath your shirt, Dean whispered. Though you urged yourself to relax down a little, you felt like your heart would burst at any minute.
It was possible that he might back off if you revealed to him that you were a virgin. It was certain that he would. You attempted to pretend that you had experience too and that it had simply been a long time because he was just interested in hook-ups, and that's what you were going to go through. It hurt to admit it, but maybe things would change.
You never would have imagined that you would feel that way about Dean, and you refused to miss the opportunity to be with him by telling him you weren't deflowered just yet. All you had to do was appear bold and avoid raising suspicion with your awkwardness.
Your cheeks flushed red, but at least the room was completely dark, keeping your almost scared gaze and timid finger movements hidden from him.
Your hands gently slipped inside his t-shirt, touching every muscle in so as to savor it. Your breath quivered with anticipation as your palm brushed every part of him. You could never let someone else touch you in the same manner that Dean did.
Dean's eyes were on you, and as he nibbled your lower lip, you urged him to remove his shirt. You could see he was smiling a little bit when he pulled it off. That you were prepared to go one step beyond thrilled him.
You must have pushed your injured hand a little bit hard when you gasped in little pain after both of your hands reached his back and you enjoyed the feeling of his muscles beneath your palms.
“Hey, be careful and take your time there. Remember that all you are is a wounded gazelle under my mercy. You’re a greedy one, aren’t you?” As he worked on your clothing, Dean said in amusement.
You moaned in surprise as one of his hands slipped into your shirt and gave you a strong grip on your nipple. “Maybe I am,” you murmured, almost laughing, but the noise you made turned into a moan.
You made a little movement beneath him. It seemed as though your body needed something from you or him, but you were completely unaware of what was going on. All you knew was that you were desperate for Dean to do something.
You gasped somewhat alarmed as your nipple hardened between his skilled fingertips. As he slid on top of you and played with your tits, you got excited more and more, assuming that he wanted this as much as you did. You thought for a moment that it was actually romantic considering it was all dark and raining like hell outside, like the whole heaven wanted you to be with him.
You nailed Dean's back with boldness, crushed your lips to his once more, kissing him with desire while trying your hardest not to show Dean how shy you were in fact. It relieved you to hear him groan a bit in your mouth. You moaned quietly into his lips as soon as his thumb started playing with your nipples once again.
Dean moved quickly to help you remove your shirt by pulling back. You were shivering a little, but even though he was making your skin hot, you would have blamed the room's cool temperature if he had asked.
His lips made their way to your nipples, where he expertly sucked them with his tongue. Your back arched as his lips nibbled your breasts delicately, and you forgot about your envious thoughts about how many other women he had treated like this. This time, you were unable to stop your loud moan from filling the room.
Dean gave both of your nipples little licks and a firm kiss after sucking your tits for many minutes, making them slippery with his spit, and making you cry out beneath his body. You didn't know how pleasurable it was to be with someone doing such things.You were aware that you were attempting to create friction by placing your leg on his hip.
He whispered to your lips, “I bet you're fucking dripping there,” as his hands gently moved into your sweatpants. He was trying to see every expression on your face in the dark. His voice was rough as he asked, “Are you wet enough to take me?”
You managed to say something like “Hmm,” which is sufficient. “I think I am.”
“We must be sure,” Dean remarked in a lighthearted manner. “Let's see.”
Dean slid his fingers slowly inside your sweatpants. He was grinning a little over you when he heard your heartbeat. As you waited for what was going to happen, you gripped onto his shoulder.
His fingers touched your underwear, causing you to gasp in surprise as he gave you a soft touch. Every second, you felt like you were becoming wetter. You believed you might orgasm at any minute since your clit was so sensitive to him. You wanted more because of how ethereal and gentle his hands were. You needed to raise your hip to him and squeeze his bisceps in order to receive what your body craved.
Satisfied, Dean moved your underwear aside as he watched you twitch under him in desperation. He rubbed your clit some more, then used two fingers to feel how wet you were.
Dean kept pushing back on his groan. He said in surprise, “Fuck, I knew you'd be wet, but you are literally leaking there.” You had no idea whether or not it satisfied him. All you wanted to do was the right thing. Regardless of what it was.
You lied when you said, “It's been very, very long,” since you had no idea what to say. The way he responded truly made you feel a little awkward.
You felt better after sharing quick kisses on the lips with him. “Good,” was Dean's sharp reply. “How many times can I get you to come to me tonight? You deserve appropriate treatment in light of the effort you have been doing these last few months, you know. I must reward you.”
Encouraged, you had a blossoming sensation of bliss and anticipation in your chest. You wished that light would never return and that you and him would always be in the dark together in that very moment.
He touched you during hunts and other times to make jokes, but you didn't used to be physical like that. Watching him being intimate with other women except you was agonizing. But now you knew you could touch him whatever you pleased right now. Just like you imagined when you thought about him, you touched yourself.
Dean palmed your moisture in his hand, causing you to both pant into each other's mouths. You felt a little uneasy as one of his fingers began to gently press into your entrance since you weren't sure if it would hurt that much or not. You just didn't tell him anything since you didn't want to spoil things. All you did was wait expectantly.
He said, “You're a tight one, aren't you?” as he kept his finger inside of you. You were glad Dean wasn't being swift with you. You withdrew your lips from biting and captured his, pushing him into doing what he needed or desired as well.
Dean expected that you would be tight, but he didn't anticipate that level of tightness. He was taken aback by how tightly your walls clamped around his finger, and he couldn't help getting thrilled at the thought of feeling your cock around him. He was shivering with excitement coursing through his veins.
You bit your lip hard in pain as he pressed his thick finger a little further. You didn't make any sound that might have stopped him. Dean would stop in an instant, you knew.
He must have realized how uncomfortable you were, though, because he began to touch your clit more in an effort to prepare you to become accustomed to him and make you wet enough to take him.
As he worked on your clit, he remarked, somewhat smirking, “It seems we need to get you ready for me; otherwise, it might be painful a bit for you.”
“I'm prepared. Really,” you said, lifting your hips in the course of action. “You can go on.”
Dean groaned a bit and pressed his finger inside again. He used extreme caution. You whimpered and attempted to make yourself quiet by stealing kisses from him to silence your whimpers.
Dean withdrew his finger and then thrust it back, not allowing you to say something. His abrupt movement caused your lips to parted in pleasure and enthusiasm. Even though there was still some discomfort, it was soon overshadowed by pleasure and desire as he began to properly finger you. You grabbed onto his shoulders because your pussy hurt from yearning. You tried to put your groaning mouth into Dean's, but he wouldn't let you kiss him.
You could not help but let a moan out in ecstasy as your back arched when he gently pushed another finger and began to fuck you with them. You made a valiant effort, but it was impossible to avoid coming so quickly and effortlessly.
Dean moaned, “Give it to me,” realizing that you were making it difficult to come. “Come to me now. You're almost there; I know that.”
As soon as your climax hit, Dean grabbed your lips and planted a passionate kiss on it as he touched your chin with one hand, allowing you to ride your pleasure in between moans.
Your hips rose to get more pleasure as though you could, your back arched, and your walls clenched hard as you rode your climax. Dean's experienced tongue expertly dominated yours as he murmured into your lips. He withdrew to give you a bit of time, and while he did so, he studied your face in the darkness, as if he wanted to remember each and every shadow that passed across your skin in the flickering light.
He was at a loss as to why he had never touched you before. For a while, at least, it felt pleasant enough to become sidetracked.
Your cheeks became scarlet as your climax wore on, but you were itching to go one step more. For that, you were ready. For a long while, you had been ready to give Dean everything.
If he asked, there was nothing you wouldn't give away.
You planted a hesitant kiss on him to gauge his reaction before your shaky hands made contact with his legs and through his trousers. You could see more of his face as your eyes grew used to the gloom. Your hands became braver as you watched him smile, and boldness invaded your body and thoughts. The sexual experience shouldn't be difficult. Particularly with him.
Shortly after your hand briefly ran over his hardened cock through his trousers, your fingers somewhat slid into his boxer. You were taking your time to gauge his reaction. You were hoping he wouldn't say no, draw a line, or worse, end it up.
You yearned to offer him the same pleasure that he gave you.
In a weak but hopeful voice, you asked, “Can I touch you?”
With a charming chuckle, Dean added, “You can do whatever you like.” His voice carried expectation, which made you thrilled even more.
You reached out and stroked his erect cock, feeling that it was safe to go a step further and meet his gaze with yours. His sly smile vanished from his mouth as he stifled a moan and shifted on top of you, his hand still resting on your thighs and legs.
He said, “It seems like you're cold,” as soon as you began to touch him.
You retracted your icy hand in an ashamed attempt to mumble a “sorry,” but Dean reacted swiftly and put your hand back to his aching cock.
He responded, “We'll get you warm,” and helped you put your hand around his cock to feel closer to him and to give you the confidence to continue. “Your hand feels so good around me.”
Driven by his words, you felt each vein on his cock and then circled your fingers around it to memorize him. You weren't familiar with his length or anything because you weren't an expert on male anatomy, but he was thick, so it was difficult to properly wrap your hands around him. You reasoned that it would be best to take some action to get him to come.
You moved your hands and began to rub him, trying not to feel shy as you stared into his eyes. Your chest was rising with excitement, and your breathing was heavy. His gasping for air made you pleased and aroused; all you had to do was give him the same pleasure.
Dean told you, “You're doing so good,” in between strokes.
You inquired quietly, “Do you like it?”
“I really like it,” Dean said as he planted a kiss on your neck. He paused at your sweatpants and began to carefully lower them with his hands.
Your hands were moving more quickly on him, and your heart was racing. He felt larger in your grip. He was nearly there. But Dean gently stopped you, pushing your hands aside and planting a kiss on your lips. You sensed that the big move was about to happen.
He saw you were becoming stiff as he assisted you in taking down your sweatpants and underwear, so he questioned you suspiciously, “Are you nervous?”
You lied once more while waiting for him to remove his clothing. “No, of course, not,” you said. When he removed his boxer, you could have practically felt the chills beneath you. You had everything you had on the floor. “It's just cold in here.”
“Trust me, you'll feel warm very soon,” said Dean confidently. His tone had hints of dedication.
You shifted slightly beneath him to find a more comfortable position. Luckily, there was plenty of room in the coach. You put your hands on Dean's back, feeling his hardness on your stomach, and you waited for him to do something already. Though plainly aroused and moist, you were still a little anxious. You
didn't want to come seem as inexperienced, though. You wished for this to keep going.
“I do trust you.” That was true at least.
Dean believed you.
While you waited, he took his cock and gave himself two or three strokes. Witnessing him stroking himself got you even more aroused.
Dean positioned himself on your entrance, making you tense up a little, then brushed his hard cock on your clit after making sure you were both ready. But you were determined to see it through to the end. It was almost like a chance to win him over in a romantic way. Maybe.
He pressed the tip of his cock, and you laid your hands on his back and nailed him like crazy. He was able to slide inside you very easily because of how wet you were, yet it was still uncomfortable and painful.
You bit your lip to suppress your agonizing groans and not to make him stop, so as not to seem like a wounded animal or anything.
Dean groaned over you, “Fuck, you are really tight,” pausing just before pulling away. It was difficult for him to fit inside completely.
You whispered to him, embarrassed, “Sorry,” attempting to calm down and let him in.
“Just relax,” Dean said, taking another position. You nodded to him quickly.
He again pushed his cock inside of you. This time, your pussy was around him tightly, drawing him within. He let out a sigh of delight at that. Your eyes welled up with tears as he withdrew and used a forceful motion to push himself forward. It was as though he was slicing you in two. Thankfully, he was unaware that a few tears had trickled down from your eyes onto the coach. However, you were unable to cease whimpering in pain.
Dean sensed when you were ready and gave himself a single, full thrust. You nailed his belly and back and moaned in agony this time because of his harsh moment.
You were no longer a virgin while you were lying beneath him. Even though the man you loved was unaware that you had given him something unique, you knew that no matter what happened, you would never regret it.
“Are you okay?” Dean asked. He could not believe how tight you were. Your walls were drawing him in, constricting around him all the while. If he was less experienced, he would have come inside you as soon as he entered your pussy.
“I am,” you urged him to continue, your voice quivering. “Just give me a moment, please.”
Dean gave you a kiss to help you relax. He saw that you were a bit anxious and that you needed to wet yourself a little more before you could handle him. He was sure sloppy kisses would be helpful.
Dean stepped back after a while and questioned, “Are you ready now?” You were clenching around him, and his patience was getting thin.
You nodded to him, and Dean retreated and pushed inside again without waiting another moment. The way he fucked you was rough and painful for you. You didn't complain though, even if it was hard to get used to his size and pace in such a short amount of time. He moved slowly at first, but as you got wetter beneath him, he accelerated his pace.
Dean moaned, “You're taking me so well,” while fucking you in a rough way. His delighted tone and praises made your heart sing. “I like how tight you are.”
You only said, "For you." His compliments caused the anguish to become joy, and this time you didn't suppress your moans. You had no idea that you would enjoy this so much.
“Oh yeah?” he said, teasing as he whispered into your neck, picking up speed. “You sound so sweet. Do you like the way I fuck you? I should have fucked your lovely tight cunt sooner.”
Your face turned red the moment he spoke dirty words into your ear. They were about how much he liked fucking you everything else. The whole room was filled with sloppy and obscene sounds that made you blush with shyness. You were becoming even more excited at the sound of his heavy balls hitting your pussy. You began to tighten up around him. Although you were trying to hold back to extend the moment, you were getting close.
“This won't take long,” he groaned, getting his fingers tense around your flesh. It was difficult for Dean to control himself. You were tightening around him, whimpering beneath him. “Come to me. Come now!”
When Dean moved around a little inside of you, he started to fuck you harder and find your sensitive spot. With a groan, “Take it. Come on,” he said, fucking you senseless.
You reached your climax and clenched him with his name on your lips as your screams became louder and you were unable to contain yourself any longer. Dean proceeded to fuck you throughout your climax by lifting your hips and drawing his body to you in order to receive more pleasure. You believed you might come again right there since your pussy was throbbing so much.
After Dean made sure you rode your orgasm, he let out a deep grumble, pulled out his cock in between your startled gasps, and began to stroke himself. You became excited by his stroking himself on top of you, even though you had just rode your climax.
When Dean began to empty himself on your thigh and stomach, you jumped. You waited for him to empty himself as you saw him spill his hot white ropes all over your body. You glared in shock as you watched him riding his pleasure.
You were no longer a virgin there, under him. It had happened. You were aware that he was only a friend and that the situation was really a bit awkward. You waited for remorse to surface, thinking that nothing would change with him, but it didn't. You didn't feel any sign of regret. Giving something unique to a loved one, even if it held no significance for them, was never wrong. After all, love was generous, and it always needed to consume the untouched places of your body and spirit.
With a low grunt, Dean moved your bodies on the coach and, to your astonishment, embraced you. It was obvious that he was satisfied. Dean grabbed the blanket that was hanging from the coach's corner and laid it over your bodies. You trembled as the heat took the place of the cold. You simply drew nearer to him to enjoy the moment because you had no idea what to do. You pondered whether this would occur once again.
Jokingly, you said, “What now?” Still, a lot of questions raced through your head.
Dean sighed and said, “It's pretty late and seems like the rain won't stop any soon, so let's sleep.” You remained silent regarding what had transpired.
Saying, “Okay,” you leaned into his embrace and made an effort to keep as close to him as you could. The thrill you had just had began to gradually fade away, leaving you alone yourself with despair and sadness.
Dean remarked, “By the way,” before he closed his eyes. “Let's not talk about this to Sam or someone else, alright?” Though gentle and soothing, his words were sharp and cut you through.
You said, “Sure,” immediately away. “Of course not.”
As though nothing had occurred and you weren't naked in each other's arms, you told each other good night. Although it was awkward, you made the choice. When you made the decision to go all the way with him, you knew that was what would happen.
You got out of bed before Dean did, picked up your clothes from the floor, and headed to the bathroom for a long shower. Whatever is done is done. It was irreversible; you convinced yourself. Nothing was a regret for you. You were relieved that it only happened with Dean. It was the appropriate decision for you to keep the details from him. He wasn't made to feel oppressed by you or anything. This would ruin the friendship and also ruin you.
Dean also woke up, and you two didn't chat much after that. You felt a little uncomfortable, but as soon as Dean returned to his lighthearted demeanor, you felt at ease and acted naturally. When you saw he didn't put distance between you, you felt relaxed.
That's how three weeks went by. Everything was well.
Following a disastrous hunt that left Sam with an arm injury, you enter their home and assist Sam in taking care of his arm. The hunt this time was challenging, and you were distracted.
Sam was giving you and Dean one of his puppy looks. You felt terrible.
With remorse, you murmured, “I'm sorry, Sam.” He injured his harm in order to protect you, yet he didn't blame you for anything. You have probably never met someone as kind as he was.
He said, “It's okay,” and made an agonizing moan as you carefully cleansed his arm.
Dean snapped, “It's not,” in a harsh voice. He was across the room, observing Sam and you. He had his fists crossed over his chest, obviously frustrated with the current state of things. After all, Sam was his brother. “There, you should have been careful. Sam could have hurt badly because of you.”
“I know,” you said, panicked. “You are right.”
“I don't think so,” Dean stated sharply, glancing at Sam's injured arm. “You've been distracted for a while. I attempted to ignore it and hide the mistakes you made, but today they could end up killing Sam.”
Your pulse raced, and you felt guilty as you proceeded to handle Sam's arm carefully. As he persisted in blaming you, you found it difficult to contain your emotions.
“It won't happen again,” you stated in a tremulous tone while keeping your gaze on Sam's arm.
“It's alright. Dean, please stop being so grumpy,” Sam eventually pleaded in an insistent voice.
“You shut up,” Dean said, gesturing to Sam as if he were a little child. In fact, you were aware that he remained a child in Dean's eyes.
As you began to wrap a white cloth around Sam's injured arm, he groaned and pressed his groan back. “You're being annoying right now,” he said.
“I'm going to be more annoying if you two keep acting like this, you know.”
You said, “I'm really sorry,” and you gave Dean and Sam sincere looks. “It really won't happen again.”
Dean nodded at you quickly and sighed. However, it was clear that he was frustrated with you. “He's all I have.”
“I know.”
You and Sam didn't say anything further about what had transpired. Thankfully, despite his curious and suspicious stare, he remained silent. To get better, you had to gather yourself. But it was challenging. You questioned whether being near Dean worked as a deterrent for him to stay away from you.
A week went by, and Dean came home with a blonde woman by his side as you and Sam were spending the night in the house eating pies and watching a movie.
Jealousy took over you, but you smiled and greeted them instead of pulling a grouchy face and making a scene. Dean's hookups and lovers became routine to you. The things that had happened weeks ago weren't important, even if it was hard to admit. Not a word about it was spoken.
Last several days, Dean had been annoyed, but when he kissed the blonde, he was a completely different person. Happier, more relaxed. Though your heart was pounding from pain and suffering, your gaze remained riveted on the TV. It was pathetic how much you wanted to be her. It was a hard swallow.
When she, Dean, or Sam told you something, you smiled and engaged in conversation so as not to arouse suspicion. They eventually made their way to Dean's room, and this is when your eyes started to well up with tears. You were unable to stop it. You uttered a little sound as your heart gripped with so much agony and suffering. You had no idea why. It might all have been different, but it wasn't.
Sam saw your eyes become wetter in the light, and he gave you a dubious look, but none of you said anything.
You longed to travel back in time as soon as you heard it began to rain outside. This time, you weren't fond of the rain or how it felt.
Next Chapter
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A/N: I hope you like it. Let me know what you think, please. ^^
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Hi, I really like your writing! I had an idea for a fic with Lando. He left school really young (he got tutored privately afterwards according to wikipedia) and mayhaps that could make him feel insecure or something along those lines if he has a significant other that is in university, maybe studying to get a bachelors or masters degree. School is not everything and does not accurately measure intelligence or anything else but it is still a standard that most people hold and compare themselves too. It's something that I know all to well, which is where this idea came from. Whatever you do with it thank for reading it!💖
thank you for trusting me with your idea <3
lando norris x reader, r is in an unspecified master's program, 1.5k.
Lando loves how smart you are.
He tells you all the time. When you’re stressed from the intensity of your master’s program, nervous about an exam, or most of the time, just randomly. He’s proud of you for taking on something he definitely doesn’t have the brains for, and for absolutely crushing it so far.
He left school before even completing his GCSEs in year 10, just so he could focus on racing full time—a decision he’d never regret, but always wondered about.
What would his life have looked like if he hadn’t devoted it to pursuing a career in racing? Would he have finished secondary school? Made it to university?
He doesn’t even know what he would’ve studied.
Granted, he was never really good at school to begin with, but things could’ve changed. Now don’t get him wrong, he would never change a thing, but that didn’t mean he never thought about what might’ve been.
So yes, Lando loves how smart you are, but if he’s being honest with himself, it does make him feel a little insecure about his own intellect.
-------
Lando finds you in your workspace when he gets home from padel with Max.
He’d turned one of his guest rooms into a sort of office slash study space for you when you moved in with him all that time ago, a place where you could get your work done in a quiet environment whenever you needed to. The space itself was one of the smaller rooms, but still bigger than you were used to, and decorated to perfection too.
A standing desk with an ergonomic chair (better for your neck and back, he’d said, so you weren’t hunched over your books all the time), a smart blackboard on one wall for any necessary brainstorming, a comfy chair in another corner—all overlooking the Monte Carlo cityscape from massive floor to ceiling windows. Everything else has been up to you, but Lando wanted nothing but the best for his smart girl.
He pads in silently, making his way over to where you're furiously typing at your computer to press a kiss to your cheek. You flinch a little, startled out of your own world at the action. Your eyes fly to his, wide, before your posture relaxes again.
“Oh, hi! Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in,” You breathe, giving him a short kiss on the lips this time.
“Didn’t mean to make you jump like that, darling. My bad,” He chuckles. He leans over your shoulder, squinting at the diagrams on your screen. “What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s—” You pause, flicking through a few pages of the textbook next to your computer. Your lips twist to the side in thought, and then you smile at him in what he’s sure you meant to be an assuring way. “Nevermind, you probably wouldn’t get it.”
He knows you don't mean it as a dig or anything, but the brush off ignites a bitter taste on his tongue. And if there’s one thing about Lando, it’s that he feels everything extremely strongly. “Well I’m sorry, not all of us can be geniuses.”
“Pardon?” You look genuinely stunned at his outburst, at this huge 180 degree turn his mood has taken within the last few seconds.
Then he can't help the words tumbling out of his mouth next. “I get it, alright? ‘Lando doesn't know what I’m talking about, let’s make Lando feel dumb!”
He storms off before you can process his stinging words, but even then, the anger that had just flared up in him has already dissipated. Lando knows all of it comes from a place of insecurity, that little nagging feeling at the back of his brain telling him that even though he’s happy where he is, happy doing what he does for a living, he could’ve made something different of himself.
You leave him alone for a while before coming to find him, presumably to let him cool off. He feels awful about what he said now. Honestly, he hadn't even meant to say it out loud, doesn’t know why he said it. It’s not like he meant it.
A knock from the doorway of the bedroom draws him out of his guilty thoughts, and he looks up to see you hovering just behind the threshold. He hates how you look hesitant to approach him.
You press your lips into a thin line once his gaze meets yours. “Can we talk about what just happened?”
“It’s nothing. Just forget I said anything.”
“It’s obvious you’ve been holding onto those thoughts for a while, so no, Lando, it’s not nothing.”
“I don’t wanna fight,” He mumbles, eyes glued to his fiddling fingers. You seem to notice his sudden quietness because your expression softens as you cross the room to sit next to him.
“We’re not fighting. You’ve got something on your mind, and I want to know so I can help,” You reply, shifting to face him. He can tell how you're trying to keep your voice as level as possible. “Please let me help.”
Lando chews on his bottom lip, unsure. You say you want to help, but he's worried that if he tells you what's really going on, you’ll think it's silly. It is silly, really, him feeling insecure because of how smart you are. But if he doesn't tell you, you’ll think he doesn't trust you, and he does trust you. He trusts you with everything.
Then you say his name again, softer this time, and you’re looking at him like you’ve done something horrible, and he sighs.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m not smart enough to be your boyfriend. You get all excited about your research when you talk about it,” He sighs, shrugging clumsily, “and I want to understand it because I wanna be able to get excited about it with you, but I just don’t get it. And it makes me feel stupid.”
“I didn’t—Lando, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I didn’t mean to, I—”
He shakes his head forcefully, grabbing both your hands in his. “No, that’s not what I meant. You never make me feel stupid. It’s my problem, really. I just…I’m not really known for my brains, yeah? Came to terms with that a while ago.”
“You’re smart, Lan,” You insist, brows pinching in the middle. “You’re so smart, what’re you even talking about?”
“We talking about the same person here? I never even finished school. Wasn’t too good at it before I left either.”
“There’s more than one way to be smart, y’know,” You continue. Lando tilts his head curiously, not unlike a puppy would. “You’ve got amazing people skills, you’re creative beyond anything I could’ve dreamed up, you’re well balanced with your emotions. Not to mention the amount of skill and strength it takes to do what you do everyday, at the level you perform at.”
“No, but that’s different. I could never do what you do, remember all the stuff that you’ve had to.”
“And you think I could do what you do?” You ask, giving a disbelieving chuckle. “Genuinely, if I got put into the cockpit of your car, I wouldn’t even be able to start the bloody thing, let alone drive it the way you can when you’re being bombarded with information from all sides during a race. If you put me in front of a group of reporters, if I had to do even a fraction of the press appearances and sponsorship events you do, I’d probably shit my pants.”
Lando wrinkles his nose in slight disgust. “That’s nasty.”
“It’s true though! I can’t do half the things you can, but that doesn’t make me any less smart. It just means we’re smart in different ways. So what you never finished school? School isn’t the only way to measure how intelligent you are. And Lando, you’re beyond intelligent.”
His shoulders sag with the long sigh he releases, and he lists to the side, slumping over onto your lap. “Sorry for lashing out,” He murmurs, cheek pressed against your knee. He rolls over onto his back, gazing up at you with truly apologetic eyes. “I didn’t mean what I said, I was just being a dick.”
You hum noncommittally, stroking a hand through his curls. “You’re allowed to have feelings, Lando, it’s alright.”
“Yeah, but what I said was just mean, and I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking straight. You don’t deserve to be snapped at like that.”
“Makes up for all the times I’ve snapped at you during exams, so…call it even?” You ask, leaning over him with a soft smile.
“We’re even.” He lifts his head, craning to reach your lips, and you chuckle a little bit, but meet him halfway in a gentle kiss.
It’s an I’m sorry kiss, a I forgive you kiss, a I’ll always support you kiss.
A no matter what you say, I’ll love you forever kiss.
This fact, Lando knows for sure, even though a little bit of him still thinks he’s not quite as smart as you.
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