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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 2 years

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Messy Eating

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: Dean’s messy. Whenever he eats, it always falls everywhere on the table, on his chin, on his fingers… It was all fine, until it wasn't. Until that hunt with only you and him. Until jealousy and anger mixed with pie and sexual tension.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word count: 7202

Warning: Smut, unprotected sex, fingering, p in v, hickeys, lots of finger sucking, food play, messy eating, bit of angst, minor injury

Square filled: finger sucking for @spnkinkbingo

A/n: Here it is! I wrote that one a while ago but never posted it for some reason... I think I didn’t think it was good enough. But I read it again today and it’s so much better than what i do now, which is nothing cause of my writer block xD anyway, enjoy!

“You’re messy.”

It always started the same.

The day started normally. You got up, the second after Sam but before Dean. As you walked into the kitchen, the smell of coffee greeted you with a good morning from the youngest Winchester making lunch. Since you've been living with them, you've never seen Sam miss a single breakfast cooking surprise.

Around the time of your sixth sip of coffee, the bacon roasting in the pan, Dean arrived still half asleep. He poured himself a cup of coffee, complimenting the delicious smell of bacon and how his brother knew him so well, making him his favorite meal every morning.

Then he ate.

The fat from the bacon trickled down his chin as he took a too big mouthful, his tongue struggling to get it all back in his mouth. Crumbs fell on his plate like leaves in autumn, always surprising you how badly he could eat.

Since it clearly was not going to fit in his mouth by itself, Dean used his fingers, pushing the escaping food back inside.

The fat trickled down his fingers as he did so, slowly, it traced the outline of his digits to land in his palms and also between his knuckles… Like a fucking delicious porno… And that was when your day turned into a nightmare. A nightmare filled with dirty thoughts, heat mounting between your legs, wetness flooding your panties.

Dean had big hands, nothing more than normal with how tall he was. Over six feet of muscle and sheer beauty to the eyes. Sam also had big hands. But Dean’s fingers… Dean's fingers were thick, long, large and blunt and from having touched them once or twice during hunts or when you had to bandage bruised knuckles, you knew they were warm, strong and soft to the touch, yet rough from his years of work and hunting.

And then you would start picturing them everywhere on your body, squeezing your flesh, your throat, sliding between your folds…

Fingering you…

And then you, sucking them clean- Him fucking your mouth with his fingers, taping at your tongue cirling them, praising how good of a cocksucker you’ll be when he’ll allow you to have his cock in your mouth-

“You're so messy,” you repeated, tearing your eyes from his fingers now glistening with grease under the neon lights in the kitchen. Christ, you couldn’t keep doing that, picturing every single utility of his fingers, not when Dean and Sam were in the same room! Faking a disgusted face, you hoped neither of the brothers noticed the truth behind your comment. I'm turned on by those fucking fingers, again!

It was unfair, so fucking unfair. Dean was single, you knew that very well. He really enjoyed having fun with women, that too you were sure, you had seen him leave bars more than once with a well-fitted bimbo.

And meanwhile, there was you, Y/n Y/l/n, a hunter-in-training who accompanied the Winchesters on hunts to learn and fix whatever injury they would get. Little Y/n who never left bars with anyone and always watched the dream on two bow legs leave with a different person every night.

It was so unfair when he was so close, but yet so far to you. It was unfair how you wanted him but were too shy and hesitant to do the first step, scared of rejection and how it could ruin your relationship with him.

Clearly, there was something more than friendship you felt for the green-eyed hunter. At first you thought it was only admiration and a little crush, after all, he was a very hot and beautiful man, but then… It grew up. More. And more. And recently those feelings, if you could call them that, had taken a turn… In the most uncomfortable craving way. It wasn't just that you loved the girth of his fingers or his tongues licking their lengths, or his lips wrapping around his digits…

It was worse than that.

His hands. His fucking fingers. You would catch yourself staring at them for long periods of time now. As he cleaned his guns, washed the dishes, or passed them against his face or through his hair. You stared at his hands all the time, so much it hurt your focus during hunts.

When you couldn't watch them, you were imagining them. Alone in your room, your hands buried in your panties, fingering yourself at the thought of him. Picturing his thick fingers instead of yours as you touched yourself… So lost in that fantasy you could almost hear his growls and feel the warmth of his body against you on the bed-

And at first, masturbating while thinking about Dean managed to lower down your needs enough to be in the same room as him. Okay, looking him in the eyes was still impossible, and the first few times you were so embarrassed, like he knew, and you had to leave immediately, but your core wasn't burning up anymore in the mere presence of him. But then, it wasn't enough. Thinking about him, about his hands, about his lips… It didn’t do it anymore, it didn’t fill the need or satiate your arousal.

The worst was when he ate. It was like no one taught him table etiquette, or that he was doing it on purpose to make you fucking horny. Food would trickle down his fingers like an invitation, any sauce, grease, jelly, cream… It drove you so fucking crazy!

“Can't help it when it's that good,” Dean muttered with his mouth full, bringing you back to the present. “Delicious,” he purred, and suddenly, it was like he knew. You were sure he heard your thoughts, that’s it, Dean’s a mind reader. Because next thing he did was put his fingers in his mouth. One at a time, slowly, he sucked his fingers clean.

Dean started with his thumb. He put the larger digits in his mouth and sucked it clean, the skin glistening with saliva, an adventurous droll of spit still linking his lips to it. For the index, he did the same, but then, there was still grease left between two fingers, so he had to use his tongue… Sliding perfectly in the tight, narrow space. For the remaining fingers, he licked them up like lolipop, from the bottom to the top, humming and moaning his approval at the taste.

You were dripping. You could feel it, the warm puddle between your legs was growing intensely as he finished cleaning his hand. Melting on the chair at the fucking sight.

And when the right hand was done, he licked his lips, eyes wide with the pleasure of the taste, stared at his left hand and… started licking it.

Under the table, your legs closed together. In the useless attempt to release some tension, you rubbed them together, trying to find some friction, but when a moan almost escaped you, you knew you had to leave. “Excuse me,” you suddenly got up, not even touching your breakfast and leaving your coffee on the table. Sam looked at you questioningly, but you barely acknowledged him before you almost ran out of the kitchen.

Now in the security of your room, the door locked, you quickly stripped off your pajama pants and panties to look at the damage.

Yeah, it was a close one.

And now you were so horny, you couldn’t leave it like that. You had two choices. Rub one out, hoping you could be fast and silent enough for the Winchesters to not notice, or take a freezing shower to cool out your head.

“Y/n, dress up, Sam found a case!”

His voice alone had powers over you, even when he was saying the most normal of things. Because, again, your imagination drove the wild route, and you started to imagine him giving you orders and dirty talking to you- that mouth was made for sins after all.

“Gimme 10 minutes!” It took a couple of tries, but you could actually manage to answer without missing a single word.

Cold shower it is.

That was mostly what you had to go through every day.

It couldn’t continue like that, it was now not only uncomfortable because of your inadequate arousal, but also because jealousy was starting to break your heart. But what could you do? Tell him? No way.

10 minutes later, you were ready to go on the hunt that Sam had found. It didn't look very complicated, mysterious disappearances, all the victims had been in the same building, cold spots, most likely a ghost.

You were waiting for Sam and Dean by the car when the green-eyed hunter entered the garage, his bag on his shoulder. "Hop in sweetheart, you're riding shotgun."

A crooked smile tugged his perfect lips as his perfect arms tucked his bag into the trunk of his perfect car. "Sam will sit in the back?" You asked, opening the door to sit in front, Dean sitting next to you. Usually, for Sam’s gigantic legs, he had to be in the front and you in the back, so this was new.

The immediate proximity with Dean gave you a heat stroke that took your breath away for a moment. Wait, how do we breathe again? Why is my heart reacting like this? It's not normal, usually I can at least breathe! Don’t look at him, you’ll look weird, you are weird, stop!

Your eyes fell on his hands on the steering wheel despite your mind just ordering your body not to look at him. His thick fingers played with the key before inserting it into the ignition. Ah, yes, to breathe, I have to inhale. Okay, I can do it. You let the air enter your lungs through your nose, but it only made things worse when his perfect scent reached your senses. Fucking perfect he smell divine.

And now his scent was already all over the habitacle.

Dean twisted the key and the engine purred its sweet melody. "No need, it's just you and me today," he simply announced. As if he had just announced a discount at the grocery store.

"What?" Your voice came out sharp and a little broken, like a seagull being strangled. Your eyes searched for him as he shifted the gear into reverse, the garage door opening behind you.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." He patted your thigh as he said this, green eyes glancing your way slightly. Your whole body stiffened at the sight and touch of his large warm hand on your body. “You're ready for a two person hunt.”

Only one ear listened to him, and you watched with sadness his hand leave your thigh to land on the bench behind you. The hunter leaned dangerously towards you, head turned towards the back to reverse out of the garage.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” you muttered under your breath, looking at the bunker disappearing in the rearview mirror as he drove away.

“The fuck was that!”

Now in a motel room, the hunt was finally over but it was not thanks to you. It was a ghost, exactly like you suspected, but then, it wasn’t only that. They were two, twins, kids, they died horribly in that building decades ago and now, every year at their anniversary, they kill the people that entered the building the same way they died. Blocked all doors, played hide and seek with them and then…

Locked them forever in the building, slowly killing them of starvation and madness.

“You had one job, how could you screw it up that bad!!”

The bones were easy to find, but at the same time, impossible. They were both still in their hiding place, the place they died all those years ago. The moment you arrived, you and Dean split up to search the grounds, but then, because you really were not focused, you missed all the important clues that were leading you to the place you had to go.

And here you were now, sitting on a chair, a bag of ice on your head where it hit the wall, your hand stuck in a bandage where you burned yourself trying to burn the bones.

“I’m sorry,” you tried again, but Dean wasn’t having it. He had nothing, no scratch, no wound, he burned his bones easy peasy, and when he went and checked on you, it was to see you with blood on your forehead, struggling to light your matches and burning yourself with them when you noticed him.

“I thought you were ready,” the hunter groaned, his hand rubbing his eyes slowly. Your gaze followed the movement and you couldn’t help but lick your lips. Christ, Y/n, not the time!

“I’m sorry,” you tried again. “It doesn’t hurt though,” you removed the bag of ice to show him your forehead. Dean opened his beautiful green eyes and worry could be read in them like in an open book. Guilt too. He regretted coming with you on this hunt alone. And you bet he would never allow it like, ever again.

Dean reached out to you suddenly, leaving you no time to think of a proper reaction to his proximity. Big, wide hands rested on your cheek, lifting your head up, concerned eyes focusing on your forehead. Swallowing hard, you let him do, feeling one of his hands leaving your face to gently stroke your wound. A hiss left your mouth. It was sensitive. “Doesn’t hurt my ass,” Dean let go of your face, stepping back. “What happened back there? I know you can deal with ghosts just fine, and the ghosts were not even there.”

Crap. Your lie wasn’t working anymore. The ghost twins only appeared at their birthday, which was not today.

You glanced down at your hands, playing with them nervously. Truth was, you tripped, simply, you were not focused, thinking about things and a certain person you should have not been thinking about, tripped on a plank and hit the wall face first. And when you heard Dean coming, ashamed of your clumsiness, you burned yourself trying to light the bones on fire as quickly as you could.

“I tripped and fell, that’s all,” you ended up replying, still avoiding his eyes.

“I can’t believe it!” Glancing up, you looked at him, not understanding why he was so pissed about this.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you making a scene?” You got up, voice louder echoing in the small motel room. “I tripped, it happens! Can you let it go!”

“Let it go? Sure!” Dean exploded, anger filling his eyes and you really tried to understand why he was so pissed. “I’m letting it go, I’m going,” he took his jacket, his keys, and slammed the door on his way out.

“What the fuck?” You sat back down, putting back the bag of ice rather roughly on your head and winced. “What's wrong with him?”

You still had no idea why Dean was so mad. You got hurt, it happens, and the hunt went well, you burned the bones and that was it. Still, you felt like you did something wrong and didn’t like having fights with him, so you did what you thought was safe, you walked to the grocery store and bought Dean a pie. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough for him to forgive you for whatever you did, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to stay moody when he would get back if he had a pie. Dean could never be mad with a pie.

If… He came back.

You suspected he went to a bar and would probably spend the night with another nameless chick, so you left the pie on the table with a note, saying you were going out and you were sorry. Anger and jealousy were boiling in your veins at the thought of him with another girl, but you were still wondering why he was so mad in the first place.

You decided it was time to dress up for the rare occasion of you going out and even put on some makeup, glad you brought all of those things with you this morning. The fed outfit would do the job, short, black pencil skirt with a tight white blouse.

The bar was close to the motel, and no Impala in the parking lot informed you Dean wasn’t there. Perfect. It was your turn to have some fun, you had to let him go, Dean would never be interested in you, and tonight's weird reaction only confirmed that.

After a few drinks and a few men crossing your path, you finally found the right one and were ready to leave with him for the night. It wasn’t something you did often, one night stand with strangers, especially after you drank and after a fight with Dean, but tonight, you wanted to. Be like him a little, be wild, do whatever you wanted, and the guy was handsome. Tall, short hair, brown eyes… shorter than Dean tho. And more muscular. But it wasn’t Dean you wanted.

Also the stranger’s hands… They were not like his. Big, yeah, but his fingers were longer, less thick, nails not as blunt. Probably someone working in an office, those hands never saw hard work in his life, other than holding a pen to sign some documents or lifting weights at the gym.

No, you had to stop comparing him to Dean, it wasn’t Dean you wanted.

Your high heels were starting to get uncomfortable as you walked with the stranger to his car, his name was Glenn or… Sean… Or… His name had no importance whatsoever.

One moment, you were sure of yourself, dizzily walking to his car, but then, you were not so sure anymore and you stopped on the spot.

“Everything okay sweetheart?”

The way he said that pet name wasn’t him. It wasn’t…. He wasn’t the man you loved. You drank tonight, but not enough to lose the last remains of your consciousness. This, this wasn’t you, sleeping all around with strangers, pretending your feelings and your attraction for the green eyed hunter didn't exist.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, starting to step back, scared he would suddenly get really mad at you for changing your mind. Men were like that, getting angry, treating women like sluts and teases for changing their minds. “I can’t…”

“Hey,” he softly said, a soft smile drawing up on his lips. “It’s okay, we don’t have to either. Don’t worry.” Even if his words seemed trustfull, you were still suspicious. Your hunter instinct kicked in, but in that outfit, there were no pockets, so you had no weapon to defend yourself. “I know how it feels.”

“What?” You frowned, your head tilting to the side as he stepped back instead of closer.

“I came here to forget, and… And well, I don’t want this to turn bad. I had a great evening, it can end up like that,” he proposed, shrugging his shoulders.

You studied him for real. “Wow, they still exist,” you laughed, really believing him now. Truth could be seen in his eyes, you were good with reading people’s intentions. “I must confess, I had a nice time too, Steven.”

“Glenn,” he laughed, and this time, you really felt the tension leaving your shoulder. “But close enough.” Glenn walked closer to his car and then turned to you. “Let me drive you home at least?”

In the end, even if the bar was close by foot to the motel, you accepted Glenn’s proposition. It felt good to trust someone, not immediately jumping to the conclusion he had to be a monster or possessed or a complete dick. Glenn was nice, kind, too, and in the car you learned he was the CEO of a paper company downtown and well, things weren’t going well at his job, that was the reason he was at that bar.

The drive ended up rather quickly, and that was when you noticed the beautiful 67 car in the parking lot. “Damn it…” You cursed. You wanted to drown in the seat.

“What’s up?” Glenn asked and you turned to him, rolling your eyes.

“Someone I don’t really want to face is there,” you confessed, staring at your wounded hand. Glenn probably followed your gaze, because you felt him tense beside you.

“He's the one that hurt you?” You turned your head to look at him. “Saw your head,” he added, and you were sure if you didn’t stop him, he would leave his car and beat the shit out of Dean, only Dean would end up beating the shit out of Glenn.

“No! God, no,” you hastened to say. “I tripped, that’s all. I swear,” you raised your hand like a promise and laughed, but he didn’t seem really convinced. “Tell you what,” you continued, picking up a pen from your purse and then his hand to write something in his palm. His skin was so soft and warm, you really wanted to stay with him in the car more, just holding his hand. It felt… Normal. You didn’t know you wanted normal until now. Just a hand to hold on to, a body to cuddle, some warmth. “Here’s my number. Text me, I’ll have yours, does that reassure you?” You smiled.

“Yeah,” it was Glenn’s turn to smile. “Thank you, have a nice night, Y/n. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do,” you said, and then, purely because he was the nicest guy you ever met, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Good night.”

You watched the car leave the motel parking lot until it got swallowed into the darkness of the night. Your phone buzzed in your purse, a sign Glenn just texted you. Good, you had his number. Maybe you could see him again one day.

You stayed outside a little bit more, standing alone in the silent parking lot, staring at the motel. Now, you had to enter the room you shared with Dean, really hoping he was alone and not screwing another chick. Actually, you hoped he was with a chick, you would have a good reason to call Glenn back and go to his place. Anything to avoid another confrontation with Dean that would end up breaking your heart.

When you entered the room, at first you saw nothing. It was pitch black. But then, a light turned on on your left and you turned your head to see Dean sitting at the table in front of the pie you got him. Talking about an entrance.

“Had fun?”

You watched the hunter sit back against his chair, legs spread, feet tapping on the floor, arms crossed on his chest. He was still wearing the same shirt but didn’t have his plaid shirt on. Your eyes immediately stared at his biceps a bit too long. No, Y/n, you are mad at him. Stop looking at his perfection.

“Lots,” you replied, walking to your bed, ignoring his eyes burning your neck as he kept on staring at you.

“Glad you had fun with Glenn,” Dean continued and your head snapped towards him.

“What?” You were on the verge of exploding. “You followed me? How did you-”

“Got his license number, less than a minute and I had his name, age, address. Did you know his company is falling apart?” Dean continued, green eyes burning as he kept on looking at you. “I read some very interesting stuff about the CEO sucking at his job.”

“That’s not of your fucking buisiness! I’m a fucking adult, I do the fuck I want with who I want,” you exploded finally, walking towards him.

“He could have been a monster, Y/n, did you think of that?” Dean leaned forward, still sitting on his chair. He was lower than you since you were standing up, but you never felt smaller. Not with the way he was looking at you. Almost… Disappointed. “Or a demon, you didn’t even have holy water on you!” He gestured to your outfit with his hand. Yep. Disappointed. Disapproving your choices.

“I can take care of myself!” You groaned, walking even closer to him. One more step and you would be standing right between his legs.

“Guess not, or you wouldn’t have hurt yourself in the hunt!” He grabbed your wrist, showing you your bandaged hand.

“Will you let the hunt out of the conversation? Christ, what the fuck is wrong with you? I got hurt, get over it!” You tried to get back your hand, but his grip tightened.

“What’s wrong with me?” Dean rose up, his height swallowing you down immediately. You lifted your head, not breaking eye contact. You were fed up with his attitude. “What’s wrong with me is, I know. How you look at me, disapear in your room the moment I do something remotely sexual, like this!” Taking the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, Dean suddenly dipped two fingers into the pie, cupping some cream from it. Showing you his now messy fingers, he put them in his mouth, sucking them slowly. Some cream stayed on the corner of his mouth and you felt yourself choking the need to reach up and clean it. “I know. I see you,” his voice was now rusty, low and dangerous. “I hear you when you touch yourself. Do you think about me? About my hands? Do you imagine my fingers instead of yours when you finger your tight little cunt?”

Your lips parted to breathe, but Dean took it as an invitation. Sugary and thick, the fingers he just put in his own mouth stroke your lower lips, inviting you to open wider. Completely under his spell, you obeyed and felt him slip his fingers in your mouth.

It had an immediate effect, you felt yourself growing weak as your tongue licked his digits even cleaner than they already were, tasting the flavor of the pie on them. Closing your lips around them, you started sucking, eyes not leaving his green gems, like two magnets, impossible to look away.

Dean tilted his head to the side and removed his fingers, a thread of saliva connecting your mouth to them. “You’re driving me fucking crazy and you have no idea how much I dreamed of this…” Leaning towards you, Dean’s face was so close you could feel his breath on your lips. Beer, the sugar of the pie, you were hungry and only a slight distance separated you from kissing him. “So… Were you picturing me, all those times I heard your little whimpers? All those times the smell of arousal lingered in your room… Meaning you just touched yourself and got off, huh? Tell me…” His hand was still holding your wrist, but the other had free access to your whole body. Even if his skin was warm, burning, even, shivers still climbed your skin whenever his fingers grazed your flesh. They ended their exploration against your neck, playing with your hair and then, circled your throat gently. “You need to use your words, sweetheart… How badly did you want your fingers to be mine?”

“So… So bad,” you whispered, chasing his lips like he was the only oxygen in the room. Heart pounding fast, you could feel the beatings between your legs where it ached to be touched. Dean groaned, not letting you kiss him yet.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, his hand leaving your throat, touching every accessible part of your body as it got lower but avoiding your breasts. “Hmm… Say please,” he muttered, green eyes locking with yours again. You could feel his fingers against your thigh, going up under your skirt, so close to your core and yet, so far.

“P-Please…” You begged, your mouth obeying his demands without your mind needing to order your body. “Please, Dean… Need you… Your fingers…”

“Where? Where do you need my fingers, sweetheart?” He was doing it on purpose, stroking the inside of your thighs and you moaned, trying to get him to touch you faster. “Nuh huh… Words.”

Reaching down, you captured his hand, guiding him towards your core, panties now drenched and hot with your arousal. “Here… On me… In me… Please…” You whimpered, your head now a mess of him. Your thoughts were a mess of his voice, face, how good he smelled, how bad your lips burned with the need to kiss him, to have everything, to have him whole. “Please, I want your fingers inside of me… Please…” You grinded on his hands, biting your lips, moaning when you felt him shiver.

“Fuck, begging me so good… So fucking wet, all for me?” You could feel Dean’s smirk as he placed his lips on yours, finally kissing you. And like that, you let go, your free hand gripping his shirt, kissing back with everything you got. Tongue out, you licked his lower lip, Dean groaning as he opened his own mouth to let you in. For a couple of seconds, you dominated the kiss, it was messy, loud, your moans filled the room with his low growls as you kept on grinding on his hand. But you lost any rhythm when you felt him toss your panties to the side to immediately sink two fingers inside of your drenching hole.

“Oh, fuck,” you broke the kiss, trying to breathe, the sensation so perfect. You felt already full, full of him, his digits so thick inside of you. How many nights have you dreamed of those fingers inside of you, pumping your tight entrance? Way too many lost nights, trying to get off, picturing him, all of him on you, in you… A shameless moan escaped your lips, immediately swallowed by his mouth.

Once again, you tried to find your breath, it was so much, almost too much all at once, your legs shaking with the stimulation, but Dean cut down that possibility as he kissed you once again, his fingers already moving inside of you. They were going slow at first, teasing, even, almost exploring. You could feel them move inside of you, stretching your entrance, and then finding the spot that turned your moan into a high pitched whimper.

“Found it,” Dean smirked against your lips, and then, he started pistoning that spot again and again. Your visions whiten and you closed your eyes, struggling to stay up as pleasure attacked you in waves. The sound of your wetness as he moved his fingers was almost nasty, so loud, but you couldn’t hear it very well, not under all the sounds you were making. “That’s it, cum on my fingers…”

Like it was an order your body was eager to obey, you let go, your orgasm exploding between your thighs. It felt powerful, washing over your whole body, shaking as you struggled to stay up once again, and you felt something warm trickling down your legs. “Hm…” Resting your forehead on his shoulder, you moaned lazily as his fingers slowed down to a stop.

“Nuh huh, look at me,” he ordered, and even if you were still stuck in the high of your orgasm, you tilted your head back just enough to look at him. Dean had his hand up, fingers glistening with your juice and smiled as he slowly and teasingly licked his fingers clean. “Hmm… Sweet, just like I thought…”

The sight made you quiver and you swallowed, staring at every single one of his gestures. How his tongue was so pink, agile, moving languidly from bottom to top and then twisting around his digits, not missing a single spot, his chest vibrating a satisfied hum. He took his sweet time, on purpose, making your need for him stronger by the minute. And before he even finished, you freed your hand, grabbed him by the collar and pinned him to the wall, lips already stuck to his, kissing him. Hands started undressing each other until there was only flesh against flesh, hands on skin and tongue against tongue.

Once you were both naked, Dean guided you to the bed, his hands burning wherever he touched, and right now they were on your waist. You landed on the bed in a soft hmf. Your breath cut, but before you could even find it again, Dean was stealing it with his lips, kissing you again.

“Please,” you begged, your hands lost in his hair as his face was hidden against your neck, kissing and leaving his mark on your skin. Tugging, you tried to make him look at you, but only a groan answered you. “Dean, please,” you tried again, and then you felt it. Without him even looking at you, Dean pressed his cock to your entrance and pushed in slowly, stretching you and filling you up so good your head rolled back, giving him even more access to your throat he kept on attacking.

“So tight for me sweetheart,” Dean groaned, kissing your throat once more before looking at you.

It was a moment frozen in time. Two bodies joined, two souls staring at each other, eyes lit by desire, a fire that was almost extinct but always there, finally eating, finally living for real. And he was beautiful, Dean was beautiful, inside, out, everything about him was beautiful. You found yourself reaching up, cupping his face inside your palm, fingers brushing his scruff. It tickled your skin and you felt your heart flutter in pure love when he leaned against your touch, closing his eyes. A soft exhale brushed your face, like all the pressure of the world just left his back.

“Dean…” It was a whisper, only his name, but how you said it, the moment you said it, it meant everything. It was everything Dean needed to hear, everything he dreamed of. It was sex, but at the same time, it was so much more. It was the hunter allowing himself some happiness, it was him allowing his needs and desires to be true, to get them, like he deserved.

Green irises met yours as he opened his eyes, looking at you like you were the most precious thing he ever saw. It made you feel special, like you belonged to him, so many unspoken words readable in only one second of staring into his eyes.

“Y/n…”

The moment he muttered your name, his lips parted, letting the groans he was holding escape his mouth. And only then did you understood that what you felt for him wasn’t only attraction or sexual desire. It was more. Maybe he felt it too, because right now, you were closer to him than you ever were. And the moment he said your name, you felt him start moving, hips rutting, his length easily slipping back and forth inside of you. You moaned, your hand gripping his neck, inciting him to lean down and kiss you, and who was he to deny you anything? Dean leaned down, capturing your lips and stealing both your breath and your moans.

At first, it was soft, but quickly, the heat and the need that was previously so strong came back with force. And quickly, he was pounding into you, fast and hard, your hands scratching his back as your head rolled back, moans of pure pleasure flooding out of your lips. Breathing fast, Dean was groaning, mumbling things like good girl, feels so good, and the few times you managed to keep your eyes open was to see him close his. And then you could admire him, truly, without any mask, pleasure flooding his beautiful face. Cheeks red with the heat and maybe the situation, he was even more beautiful.

“Fuck, so close,” you heard him groan as a rough thrust made you see some stars. He heard the change in your voice, because his thrusts changed to keep doing that. Rough, long thrusts going even deeper into your core. “Gonna cum, cum with me Y/n,” Dean instructed and then you felt it, warm and thick, his thumb asking for access to your mouth. You let it in, parting your lips, sucking on his digit and biting into it as you felt the knot in your core expanding more and more. Moans got muffled by his finger and you bit harder, eyes rolling back as you felt it come, your walls fluttering around his shaft, it got higher and higher and then, it finally snapped in a pure bliss of pleasure.

It was so good you closed your eyes on the spot, breathing hard to get oxygen into your lungs. It was almost impossible for you to hear anymore, your ears shrilling, but you were glad to still have some hearing left to hear him as he reached his own climax.

Dean removed his finger from your mouth to place both of his hands on the bed. Rougher thrusts met your cervix, spasms of overstimulation controlling your body, and then he stilled and a long groan softly echoed in the room as you felt him spill inside of you.

“Oh… fuck…” Dean’s face dropped back against your neck, breathing in your scent, kissing the sensitive flesh of your throat. And even if his lips were burning and bruised by all the kisses you shared, pleasant shivers ran down your skin, bringing a nice, refreshing feeling. Giggling, you stroke his back softly, your fingers tracing the muscles around his spine, skin covered in sweat.

“Dean, it tickles,” you whispered. One last kiss and Dean was pulling out, laying down beside you on the bed. The two of you stared at the ceiling for a while in silence, not knowing what to say. It wasn’t awkward per say, the moment was needed to cool down, from the intense sex, yeah, but also to get back rational thoughts.

“You asked what was wrong with me,” Dean ended up breaking the silence, and you immediately turned to your side to look at him. He was still staring at the ceiling and licked his lips. “Everything’s wrong with me,” he ended up confessing, and even if you really wanted to cut him off and deny his words, you let him continue. “When I saw you were hurt, I got angry, because it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t-” You couldn’t help it, you had to make him understand none of this was his fault, but Dean shook his head.

“It was. I knew it, for a while now, not very subtle, Y/n…” A smile stretched his lips, and if the conversation wasn’t so serious, you would have adored watching him smile. It was precious, it wasn’t often you could admire that smile. “I knew how distracting I am, can’t help it, I know I’m hot,” he joked again and you rolled your eyes. Of course, having a heart to heart conversation with Dean Winchester would always end with jokes. The hunter was never known to enjoy serious and deep conversation involving feelings, like he wasn’t allowing himself to have them. Like it was forbidden to feel things. “But… I still chose to go hunting with you, and you got hurt, and I got so mad, but not at you, at me, and then I came back and you weren’t there… And even if I was a complete jerk, you still got me a pie to apologize for something you didn’t even do, I…”

“Dean,” you tried again. Dean finally turned his head towards you, and you could see hurt shining in his eyes. Your heart sank.

“I tracked your phone, found you at the bar. With that guy. I got angry with jealousy, so I left and came back here, and then when you weren’t leaving his car, I tracked his license number. His company failing isn’t his fault. Steven is mister perfect nice guy. ”

“Glenn,” you couldn’t help but correct. Dean rolled his eyes, a glint of jealousy still shining in his eyes at the mention of him. You knew how Dean could be possessive sometimes, of his car, for example, but being jealous of a perfect stranger… It was hiding something deeper than that. You don’t get jealous of people without any feelings. “So…” You changed the subject, really hating to see so much pain in his eyes. “Not only did you know how I felt, you enjoyed it, you enjoyed torturing me.”

Dean turned completely towards you, frowning. “That’s all you get from this conversation?”

“What I get,” you got closer and watched his Adam apple bob up and down in nervousness. “Is that you knew, and on purpose, tortured me with your damn hands.”

“I mean, yeah, but,” Dean trailed off, wide eyes clearly confused as to where the conversation was going.

“Dean, I’m usually really good at reading people. And when… When we…” You searched for your words, heat invading your face as the thought of it. “Had sex, I saw it. What I get is, you don’t allow yourself to feel. I know you think you can’t be loved, that you’re the wrong in what’s wrong. But it’s not true.” You got even closer, now completely invading his personal space. “What I get is, I… I have feelings for you. But now, I need to know, do you have feelings for me too?”

There was another silence. It wasn’t long, the time of two hearts synchronizing with the other as realization hit. And in those couple of seconds, you could see every emotion going through him by simply looking in his eyes. It was a whole book, a complete story of how he felt, from doubt, sadness, anger, understanding.

Love.

“I do, I think… I think I love you…” He finally said, and this time, the smile that stretched his lips was true and you welcomed it with great joy. Softly, you placed your hand on his cheek, stroking his skin with your fingers. “But you’re really bad at reading people,” his smile turned into a smirk and you frowned. “Cause you never understood I was doing it on purpose.”

“Oh, I’ll get my revenge just fine,” you grinned, your thumb slowly stroking his lower lip. “You can count on that.”

“I’d like to see you try… But first, can we huh…” Tongue poking out of his mouth, Dean licked his lips, purposely touching your thumb. Arousal poked you between your legs, suddenly really awake and aware of the proximity of the naked man in the bed with you.

“Hm?” You trailed, your attention focused on what he was doing with his mouth.

“Eat the pie? Cause it’s there and I’m hungry,” he casually said, but again, you could see all the mischief glowing in his eyes.

“You want to eat it with your hands, right.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean was already up, bouncing towards the table. “So you can lick my fingers clean after.”

“I hate you,” you sat up, looking at him now sitting at the table in all of his naked glory. Gosh, he was so beautiful, it was unfair. Shining with happiness and love. Starting to allow himself to feel.

“No you don’t.”

And like that, with the nastiest and hottest expression on his face, Dean dipped his thick fingers inside of the pie. It shouldn’t be turning you on so bad. But yet, it did.

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @b3autyfuldisast3r @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations @fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @cryptichobbit

Supernatural Tag List: @cryptichobbit @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278 @siospins2 @kazsrm67 @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse

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mzkora · 1 year

Text

Sam Winchester’s Post-Breakup Care Package Courtesy of Dean Winchester’s Porn Collection

PROMPT: Fleshlight @spnkinkevents

PAIRINGS: Solo!Sam

RATING: Explicit

TAGS: Canon Divergent, Past Sam/Eileen, Masturbation, Porn Watching, Fleshlight/Sex Toys, Coitus Interruptus, Weirdcest/Lack of boundaries

SUMMARY: As part of his healing process after a breakup, Sam jerks off.

WORD COUNT: 2,464

WARNINGS: Incest Undertones

Ding ding, ding ding ding. Sam pulled his head out of the news article he had been reading and switched tabs. There waiting for him in his inbox was a new message from Dean with the subject line: ‘Thought you might like ;)’. Sam sighed and rubbed his hands down his face. He knew in his gut that all Dean had sent him was more porn, his big brother’s idea of a breakup cure-all. Ever since Eileen and him had parted ways, Dean had been bombarding him with porn, skin mags and the like as part of his campaign to quote unquote ‘cheer him up’.

Nevertheless, Sam gave his older brother the benefit of the doubt and clicked open the message. Boom! Immediately, there was a thumbnail of two chicks fingering each other. Sam snorted and shook his head but he couldn’t quite keep the shadow of a grin from pulling at the edges of his mouth. Dean was just so predictably Dean sometimes.

Dutifully, Sam scrolled through the selection of porn clips that his brother had sent him, the weirdness of this type of exchange long gone. Getting these obscene emails from Dean was almost routine at this point. He had an entire folder dedicated solely to Dean’s dirty emails so that they wouldn’t clutter his inbox.

Nothing surprised him in this new batch of pornography. All the links were for videos of two or more women fooling around. “Themed,” Sam mumbled to himself, noting the new trend. When Dean had first started, the videos were a mishmash of anything and everything he could get his hands on. Now, they seemed to have arrived at Dean’s ordered, more curated phase. An oddly welcome change of pace.

At the end of the latest bundle was a video of a single woman by herself riding a large, blue tentacle shaped dildo. Sam blushed. This outlier video was most certainly a preview of things to come. Sam sagged into his chair. “Not hentai,” he groaned, rubbing his fingers into his gritty eyes. He didn’t know if he was praying to Jack or trying to reach his brother telepathically. “Please, not hentai.”

He could handle demons and angels and God-led apocalypses to wipe out all life in the universe, but he simply could not do cartoon porn. He just couldn’t go there. That sort of stuff did nothing for him, except make him uncomfortable. Something about the irreality and childishness of the format mixed with the very adult content, made his skin crawl.

Heaving a small sigh, Sam opened his eyes and leaned in again to study the last video closer. A part of him was relieved to see that the woman was an actual woman, not a drawing or an animation. Dean probably wasn’t going to be sending him hentai next, which did a lot for his nerves. But then what would his next theme be? Dean had already sent him links to a host of videos of women masturbating, alone and with partners. Was he introducing toys into the equation now?

Sam chewed his bottom lip, his eyes still trained on the dark haired woman in the thumbnail with a silicone tentacle partly inside her. His dick twitched and heat flooded his cheeks. He liked watching women use toys to get off. Jess used to do it for him back in the day as foreplay, so she would be wet enough to take him. He liked warming up a woman’s body himself, but there definitely was something about watching a girl prep herself that worked for him.

Sam swallowed.

Glancing at the empty map room, he licked his lips and weighed his options. While pretty much all the videos Dean sent him were hot and sexy, he hadn’t really been in the mood to…use any of them. He didn’t bounce back the same way Dean did, but at this point, he found himself considering the possibility. He checked the clock at the bottom right of his screen. It was after midnight, nearly one in the morning. They were deep into their nighttime separation, each of them doing their own things to unwind and eventually sleep. Sam rolled his lips together, his dick in the game so to speak for the first time in months.

Not wasting any momentum, Sam got up from his seat and grabbed the laptop in his hand half-closing it as he made his way quietly to his room. Once the door was shut and he was in bed he clicked the link before he could second guess himself. The tab rolled over to a porn site, loading a viewing screen surrounded by explicit ads. The thumbnail appeared, the woman in the exact same position with the exact same tentacle dildo spreading her open. Sam tapped the lower volume button repeatedly, until the sound bar was at less than half, just in case, then he hit play.

The video started on a shot of an empty living room. The background looked to be of an apartment or a small home with lightly painted walls, a blue couch along the wall in view and a spread of greyish carpet. The woman with long dark hair sauntered into frame carrying her unnaturally blue tentacle dildo in her hand. It was longer than it looked in the thumbnail. Sam chubbed in his jeans.

She wore gauzy, pale pink lingerie which was so sheer Sam could see her nipples and her bush. She set the dildo on the floor and the tip nearly reached her hip. The woman bent over her toy, her full breasts hanging low. She whipped her hair to one side and stared directly into the camera. “I want you inside me, baby,” she announced, cupping her barely clothed pussy. Sam gulped, his dick slowly hardening. “Want that big cock…”

Sam paused the video. The frame froze on a zoom in of the woman’s tits. Sam double checked that his door was closed then quickly undid his belt. He unzipped his pants then shimmied them and his briefs down around his thighs. Free from the constraints, his dick hardened. Sam held the base of his shaft in one hand and stroked his length with the other, getting himself fully hard before he resumed the video.

He got a slow full body scan, from this woman’s chest down to her pussy, everything still covered, but not hidden in the slightest. Then the video cut and the angle shifted looking as if the camera was seated on the floor. Now the length of the dildo was in full view and the woman, just a pair of legs and a crotch. She sank onto her knees behind her toy and groped at her tits before playfully wrapping them around the curving silicon. Sam slowly pumped his erection waiting for the real fun to start.

She talked a lot, which didn’t bother Sam at all. He knew Dean liked girls who took charge of their own desires and spoke about them out loud. It was pretty conventional stuff, the typical kinds of motivation you find in porn. Sam waited. She stripped off her lingerie a bit at a time, her pussy wet enough for her panties to cling to her as she pulled them away. Sam shifted in his seat, slumping a bit, his dick throbbing at the sight of her natural bush and wet, swollen lips.

She rubbed at her clit lazily once she got her clothes off. “Do you like my pussy, baby,” she asked, coyly the way women in porn do. “I’m so wet for you.”

Sam matched his stroking to her gradual motions. She took her time, getting herself wetter and wetter until her inner thighs were glinting with her slick. “Want you inside me so badly,” she panted, her fingers sliding along her sticky thighs. She smeared her mess onto the dildo and stroked the wavy shaft. “You’re so hard for me, aren’t you, baby?”

Once again, Sam paused the video. If he was going to do this then he was going to do it right. From the bottom drawer of his bedside table he retrieved a long, silicone sleeve he had purchased online years ago under a pseudonym he never used for hunting. The toy hadn’t seen much use since he wasn’t big on masturbating like his older brother was, but it had made his solo times a bit more fun and he was certain it would do so now.

He set his fleshlight down on the bed and got to his feet. He grabbed the waistband of his jeans to keep them from sliding further down and shuffled his way to his desk. After his last rendezvous with Eileen he had stuffed his private bottle of lube into one of the drawers. It was an expensive brand that Dean didn’t like to splurge on since he insisted on getting more banging for his buck, but Sam didn’t mind the price tag.

With his personal lube in hand, Sam waddled back to his bed and sat down again. He picked up his fleshlight and squirted some of the lube inside, enough to coat the rubber ridges all the way down. Then he squirted a generous amount of lube onto his shaft and put the bottle down on the floor, so it wouldn’t get anything on his bedside table sticky. He hit play with his dry pinkie then pumped his shaft to spread the lube around his entire length while the video kicked back into action.

Sam watched her hands sliding down the rubber shaft one after the other until the suction cup side that faced the camera glinted faintly. She scooted closer, grinding her wet pussy directly onto her tentacle dildo. Sam groaned, his lube slick hand wrapping tighter around his shaft. She continued to wet down her tentacle dildo before she finally began to sink down onto her toy, her sopping pussy spreading easily for the narrowed tip. Sam flipped his sleeve so that the entrance was pointed down and hastily slid the toy over his tip. He moaned along with the woman as she descended, the both of them taking their time.

In hindsight that was probably his mistake.

Suddenly the doorknob rattled as someone turned it. Sam barely had time to slam his laptop shut before his brother strolled into his room unannounced. “Dean!”

“Hiya Sa—whoa!” Dean turned away his cheeks going pink. Sam’s face burned, his legs clenched together helplessly as if that would hide his obvious erection inside his equally obvious fleshlight.

“What the hell?!” Sam floundered, reaching blindly for one of his thin pillows to hide himself from view.

“Just thought I’d check on ya,” Dean replied, talking to the wall. Sam scoffed, his cock throbbing, but he ignored it. Dean chuckled under his breath, sounding a little forced. “Glad you got my message.”

“Dude, get out,” Sam demanded, his voice higher and less coercive than he intended.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Dean muttered. He spun to his right on instinct then rapidly went the other way. He cleared his throat and raised his hand to cover his eyes as he walked back to Sam’s door. “Looking good there, Sammy.”

“Dean,” Sam reprimanded. His cheeks flushed again, his heart thundering in his chest and his cock still as hard as nails.

“Right, sorry,” Dean declared, reaching out with his free hand to grab Sam’s door knob. “Enjoy the rest of your night, ya perv.”

The bastard was smirking!

“Dean!” Sam stared as his door slammed shut, his ears burning hot. He threw his pillow at his door to no effect. It dropped to the floor with a soundless thump. He bit his lip, embarrassed and annoyed, his dick still hard enough to cut diamonds.

Panting like he’d just run a marathon, Sam sagged into his bed and growled. Of course tonight would be the night that Dean would choose to ‘check on him’ after sending him porn to watch. His neck rested on the crest of his headboard. He rolled his eyes and gazed at the ceiling, his hands sliding to his lap. His erection bobbed.

Sam closed his eyes. He took a couple deep breaths. His blood was pumping, his balls aching. With a soft groan, Sam raised his arms back up and grabbed his fleshlight with both hands. He had to finish what he’d started. He needed the release.

It didn’t take him long.

He thrusted into his toy, the ridges stimulating his shaft on all sides. The suction was good, the squelching noise loud in his ears without the video accompaniment. Sam huffed, his chest heaving as he pounded the rubber sleeve and pumped it down his whole length.

He trained his thoughts on the woman. Her tits. Her pussy. Her tentacle dildo, filling her up. Dean’s smirk. Sam bit his lip hard and came even harder inside his toy.

Sam panted through his nose, his thighs shaking and his toes curling in his boots. Blast after blast of come erupted from his slit, mixing with the lube and dripping down his shaft. He kept stroking. He allowed himself to grunt as he milked his orgasm for everything he could. Waste not, want not.

Come and lube gushed out of the mouth of his toy, drenching his pubes. He lifted his head and gazed at his crotch, keeping his toy moving with one hand while the other smeared the mess he had made into his skin.

Once he was spent, Sam sagged boneless in his bed, his arms resting on his thighs, both of them sticky. He licked his lips, his cock a long, red line in his fleshlight and a thick, white glob of come trapped at the tip. “Ruined,” he said with a muted groan, knowing in his heart that his orgasm had been anything but ruined.

He reached into his bottom drawer again and pulled out a hand towel hurriedly cleaning up the mess he had made on his crotch. He pulled the toy off his softening shaft with a wet slurp and wiped off the come and lube that clung to his skin. He draped the towel on the floor and laid his fleshlight on top of it. Torn between cleaning it later or simply melting it in the furnace to clear away his shame.

“Too late,” he whispered to himself. Dean had seen it. It and him. There was no pretending otherwise. Things were going to be awkward now and Dean would make his dumb jokes. Sam rolled his eyes just imagining the teasing and the jibes that awaited him, his body loose and his eyelids drooping. Without meaning to, he went to bed mostly clothed, falling asleep faster and easier than he had in months.

#spnkinkbingo #spnkinkevents #spn fic #sam winchester #spn kink bingo

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