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impala-dreamer · 7 months

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Taking Over Me

A Supernatural Story

~Dean's guilty pleasure comes to life and Y/N gets tangled in the mix...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

3800 Words

Warnings: NSFW. Monster Fucking. Tentacles. All The Way Through Tentacles. Cum. Poison. Possession. Allll the fucked up things.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

Fresh from the shower, she hurried down the long hallway, bare feet slapping against the cool tiles. The towel knotted over her breasts was damp and a little too short, exposing more thigh than she usually would in the common areas.

If she rushed, no one would see her.

No one that wasn’t supposed to, anyway.

Bedroom number eleven popped open with a mere touch and Y/N slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. She spun and pushed herself back against the antique wood, staring across the pristine room at Dean who was lounging on the pillows. He was ready for bed, down to a single layer of a thin cotton tee and shorts. His long legs were bare and stretched out across the mattress, propping up his laptop.

He startled when the door shut, looking up from the screen with the guilt of a child caught with his hands in the cookie jar before dinner.

“Uh- hey-” He distracted her with a beaming smile while shutting his computer.

She was not fooled. “Whatcha doin’?” she asked with the tone of someone who already knew the answer.

Dean laughed awkwardly as his cheeks burned bright pink. “N-nothing. Weather- things.”

Y/N kicked back and pushed away from the door. “Weather things?”

Dean squirmed uncomfortably as she came close and clasped both hands on the computer, unable to move it from his lap. He cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah. There’s uh… tornados and stuff. Um. Gotta keep an eye on those, ya know.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Tornados, huh?” Clearing the distance between them, Y/N appeared at the side of the bed and looked down at him. The fabric of his shorts was stretched higher than the actual tent they’d pitched when camping a few months ago. She snatched the laptop away and he gasped. “You certainly seem very into weather events. I never knew that was such a passion for you.”

Dean scrambled to cover his lie and his dick.

“Well…” He grinned and clenched his teeth, at a loss. “Ya know… meteorology has always been a… secret, uh, it’s- it’s fun.”

Y/N snuck her finger between the laptop and lifted the screen. Very exaggerated and animated moaning flooded from the speakers and her eyes lit up in awe.

A tiny brunette was being utterly ravaged by what appeared to be all eight legs of a giant blue octopus. The woman screamed in unadulterated pleasure and a wave of cartoon fluids gushed from her extremely swollen and pink holes.

“Oh…”

Dean scrunched his eyes shut and then lurched for the computer. “It’s an art form! You can’t shame me for art.”

Y/N pulled the computer out of his reach and kept watching. “I’m not shaming. It’s just…” She tilted her head as two of the tentacles reached around to circle the woman’s tits, squeezing so hard her dark magenta nipples nearly exploded. “Wow. It’s… different.”

With her distracted, Dean managed to snatch the computer and tuck it under the bed.

“Hey!”

Dean sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. “Go on,” he said, “lemme have it.”

Y/N laughed gently and sat on the edge of the bed. “Babe, I’m not gonna tease you for your choice in pornography. I’m not Sam.”

Green eyes rolled and dimples popped above his lip.

“Really,” she assured him, leaning in and laying a hand on his thick upper thigh. “And believe me, if you saw some of my hidden folder things, you’d know I’m not able to judge.”

His brows lifted in interest.

She bit her lip and went on, laying it on thick. “I just… I don’t know, I was surprised you were in here taking care of yourself. I thought maybe tonight we were gonna…” Her fingers curled inward and she brushed her pinky over the base of his cock. “Ya know…”

Dean swallowed hard and his arms sank to his sides. “I wasn’t… doing anything,” he breathed, stomach tensing as her hand slipped inside the slit of his shorts. “Just watching. I was bored- you were in the shower a long time…”

“I was,” she admitted, slowly dragging her warm hand over his erection. He was near to pulsing under her touch and she popped up on her knees, shifting on the bed to get closer. “I was in there a long… long time.”

His lashes fluttered, his lips parted, chest heaved.

“Getting myself all clean and… smooth for you.”

She batted her eyes and Dean’s mouth watered.

“Smooth?”

Licking her lip, she took his right hand and placed it beneath the towel against her bare sex. Dean moaned as he felt the velvety flesh of her pussy and his heart pounded almost painfully.

“Fuck…”

He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth but Y/N released it, sucking a kiss over his wet mouth until he snapped and took over. He grabbed at the towel, tearing it away as he nipped at the soft flesh of her throat and below.

Y/N rolled onto her back and he followed, closing in on her like a starved wolf. He growled against her mouth and hissed when she locked her legs around his hips, jerking him forward with a hitched kick on the ass.

“Better than anime?” she whispered, licking at the tender flesh of his ear.

He nudged at her cunt, teasing and threatening all in one rough motion. “Oh, hell yeah…”

Dean woke up late, his old bones tired from a night of fun. He sat up with a cough and dragged a hand down his stubbled cheek, scratching at the shadow and wondering if he should bother shaving. Y/N might like a beard, he thought, and decided to give it another day at least. Just to test it out.

Y/N was whistling loudly, a familiar tune floating from her lips down through the hallways.

“Styx?”

Still groggy, Dean followed the sound, rubbing at his eyes when the walls began to undulate around him. He felt almost drunk, but soon shook it away when Y/N came into view.

“Come sail away… come sail away with me…”

She was bent over, ass pushed out high, digging through the archives in room 7B. Her whistle was intoxicating and Dean felt his blood rushing south. His ears rang with her song and he slipped into the room and slunk up behind her, grabbing her hips.

Y/N yelped and stood, falling back against his firm chest. “Dean!”

He nuzzled into the crook of her neck and took a tiny bite. “Mmm… mornin’.”

She could feel him stiffen against her ass and she pushed back against it, rubbing suggestively. “Morning nothing- it’s almost noon.” Her left hand snuck up and curled around the back of his head, holding his lips to her flesh. “You OK, sleepyhead?”

He breathed her in- dust and sweat and her fruity shampoo. He hummed happily. “Very…”

Her nails scraped along his scalp and ideas flooded his brain.

“Busy?” he asked, already envisioning slamming her up against the metal shelves and sinking so deep into her that he could see it in her eyes.

“Kinda.” She held up a small octagonal box. The brass was dark with age and she rubbed at the inlaid symbol on the top. “This is cool. I don’t know what it is, but the top thingy is pretty.” She rubbed it again and the tarnish moved beneath her fingers, clearing the brass.

Dean eyed it for a second and shrugged. “Never seen it before.” His lips pulled at her ear.

“Probably shouldn’t play with it,” she sighed. “Might have some evil creature trapped inside that could eat us alive.”

His hot breath fluttered into her ear and she shivered. “I could eat you alive,” he growled.

Y/N smiled and turned her head so she could lick at his hungry lips. “I guess I could take a break…”

Dean let out a moan that vibrated through her and Y/N rolled her hips back until they were both throbbing and aching. Reaching around, Dean lifted his left hand to her chest while the right slid between her thighs.

The box fell onto the cement and the ancient lock shattered at their feet.

“Fuck, Dean…”

Her pulse was racing beneath his lips, her pussy already dripping. He could feel her jeans dampen over his palm.

Close to feral, Dean tugged his hands away and grabbed her upper arms, spinning her around to face him. They scuffled over the floor, kicking at the box while they rearranged in each others’ arms.

Lost in a kiss, neither heard the brass lid creak open.

The neon glow that leaked out wasn’t seen as Dean shoved her back against the metal shelves and attacked, crushing her with every ounce of himself. He licked deep into her mouth, scratched down her sides, jerked a knee between her legs.

Y/N grasped at his shoulders, fingers curling into the gray flannel he wore. “God, Dean… need you so bad…” Her voice flowed through him and Dean grunted back, unable to find any words as he fumbled with two zippers at once.

The air in the room shifted. A slowly rising mist poured free from the box, illuminated by streaks of purple neon. The mist floated up around their ankles, but neither noticed.

She bit down into the bend of his neck, marking his shoulder with a tiny red crescent moon and he hissed against her cheek. “Fuck me, Dean…”

He grinned, eyes hazy and staring into her. “I’m tryin’-”

The cloud lifted around their hips and a strange warmth struck them both. Y/N’s exposed middle shivered with goosebumps as the mist touched her and she looked down with wide eyes that let in the fear.

“Dean-” She slapped his chest to get his attention.

“I’m workin’ on it,” he laughed, face buried in her hair as his hands struggled.

“No!” She grabbed his face and turned him downward. “Look!”

The fog was moving faster, climbing higher with every breath. It tickled her jaw and Y/N gasped, looking to Dean for help.

“What the fuck!”

Surprised, he took a step back and the mist enveloped Y/N. It sucked her down into a hazy mess of purple so thick that Dean couldn’t even make out the spot she’d been in.

“Y/N!”

She screamed and then fell silent. Dean spun on the spot, totally surrounded by the alien fog.

“Y/N!” He yelled for her and the mist crept in, filling his mouth and trickling down his throat. He choked on it, unable to move any air. He clawed at his throat, but there was nothing to move, nothing to break free from. The cloud lifted above his head, expanding to fill the entire room.

Dean’s head hit the cement and green eyes slammed shut.

He woke with a gasping breath, lungs aching and head throbbing. Tacky warmth was spread on the side of his face and he knew that he’d been bleeding. He tried to reach for the wound, but his hands were stuck, locked tight above his head by the enchanted metal cuffs that hung against the back wall of the dungeon.

Slowly, the room came into view and he shivered. The air was on full blast, pumping in through vents in the ceiling and casting down icy air into the stone lined room. He gave himself a quick shake to shed the dregs of unconsciousness blinked into the dim light.

Vision was not his friend and Dean cringed at the sight before him.

Y/N was lying on the cold floor in the center of the devil’s trap, her naked body displayed as if she were sleeping. Her hands were hung at her sides, her legs perfectly straight. Her eyes were still closed but she was breathing and Dean called to her.

“Y/N!” His voice bounced through the room but she didn’t stir. “Baby, come on. Wake up!”

Her lashes fluttered. Her throat tensed with a cough.

“That’s it, baby,” he urged, “wake up. Come on.”

She struggled to open her eyes, and when she did, panic filled them. She tried to move, but her limbs were numb, unresponsive.

“Dean?” She turned towards his voice, only her head able to move. Her eyes were wide and flooded with horrors he missed while passed out. “Dean! We have to get out of here. Now.”

Her breaths were heavy, pained. She tried to move again, but only managed to twist her left foot a bit to the right.

“Fuck! I can’t move!”

Dean took a breath and looked around. They were alone and the secret entrance closed. Something had put them in here to keep safe.

“We’re OK.” He swallowed hard. “Hey! Look at me, OK? We’re OK. We been in worse situations, right?”

He smiled but she wasn’t buying it. A tear slipped down her cheek and Dean’s heart ached.

“We’re gonna be just fine.”

She nodded. “Yeah. Right. OK.”

They looked into each other’s eyes, finding the will to stay calm within. He exhaled slowly and she mimicked, calming down for a moment.

It was a brief moment that shattered when the door creaked open.

“Dean?” Her heart raced, eyes shooting towards the entrance.

No one entered, but the light from the box glowed bright from between the metal shelves. Dean stared at the neon, trying to decipher his task. If he knew what he was up against, he could fight it. He couldn’t exactly punch the fog.

He grit his teeth and tugged at the chains. “Hello? Who’s there!”

Y/N drew in a scared breath and whimpered. “Dean…”

His eyes followed hers and his jaw dropped in awe.

Slithering through the gap in the portal was a long, slimy tendril. It was firm and thick, the color of an eggplant, and it moved across the floor like an eel.

Dean blinked in wonder as more appendages appeared, sliding through the crack in countless numbers until a swarm of squirming, slithering things darkened the edges of the devil’s trap. They skirted the red paint, looming within inches of Y/N’s paralyzed form.

Her jaw trembled and she grit her teeth to try and stay calm. Years of almost getting herself killed had taught her that panic helped no one.

Quickly, she looked up at Dean but he was as lost as she; there were no plans, no ideas. They were in trouble.

“Dean…”

The tentacles breached the sigil and Y/N screamed as two warm, wet things slid across her feet and wrapped themselves around her ankles. Tiny suckers on the underside attached themselves to her flesh, puckering and slurping, kissing her calves and feet.

Y/N’s breath caught. The sensation was almost pleasant, and she let herself relax a little.

Dean watched as the strands of flesh crawled up higher, slipping between and around her thighs.

“Y/N?” His heart was pounding, nerves on edge, and yet- he couldn’t stop watching. He clawed at the cuffs, yanked down hard on the chain, but his eyes never left Y/N. “Baby?”

Her eyes were heavy, lips parted with a deep exhale. “Dean… it’s… it’s OK…”

The arms twisted around her legs jerked suddenly and her knees fell open. A clipped moan left her lips and Dean’s stomach tensed.

“It’s so… warm…” She sighed and bit her bottom lip, keeping in a string of aroused noises. “Dean…”

He pulled hard on the cuffs and a single line of blood dribbled down his forearm. “Y/N… I can’t- It’s-”

Words vanished as a third tendril slinked between her legs and nuzzled at her cunt. Y/N cried out in shock but sank back down into blissful compliance as the suckers closed around her clit.

“Oh my god- Dean- it’s-”

His eyes were locked on her body, unable and unwilling to turn away.

“Oh, fuck!”

Y/N’s eyes rolled and another tentacle slipped in between her thighs, this one sinking without warning into her tight pussy. It jammed itself in deep and then expanded to fill her channel completely.

“Jesus Christ!” Her voice cracked as the invader pulled out just enough to let her juices flow freely before slipping back in. Her body tensed and her hips jerked upwards, moved by the tentacles.

Dean’s mouth watered despite his fear. The sound of the thing fucking into her rang in his ears and his cock twitched hard. The wetness squelched loudly and another slinking eel came around, sliding through the mess to nudge at her tightest hole. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t resist the arousal that zapped through his veins.

Y/N exhaled a shaking laugh as the monster filled her up. She tried to squirm away, to buck her hips to the rhythm of it moving, but she was locked in place, trapped by some magical bondage that she couldn’t explain.

More tendrils appeared, attacking her in ways that Dean couldn’t fathom. They attached themselves to her nipples, sucking with slurping hunger that made Y/N cry out with spasming pleasure. They tangled in her hair, coiled around her arms, her throat. They covered her eyes, blinding her from Dean, pulsed at her ears until she could hear nothing but the wetness and their suctioning kisses.

“Dean?” She tried to turn her face, to look for him, but it was all darkness. “Dean! They’re…”

A gentle buzzing sounded in the back of her mind and Y/N was distracted, listening to it intently.

Dean called to her, but she could no longer respond. The tentacles pushed and pulled at her flesh, twisted her limbs, puppeted each finger.

“They’re… taking over… me…” The buzzing was incessant and distracting. She held her breath as the thick snake in her cunt moved deeper still. She could feel it breaking through, plunging into stomach, fucking everything inside. There was no pain, only a deep, throbbing point of pleasure that radiated outward and blocked everything else out.

Panting and tense with guilty arousal, Dean stared at her stomach as the tentacle bulged in her lower belly. He could see the tip poking through, climbing upwards through her system. It crawled higher and Y/N gagged when it entered the base of her throat.

“Oh, god- Y/N!” His voice was strangled and his cock was stiff. He hated himself for watching, for not closing his eyes to the horror, but it was strangely beautiful and Y/N’s pleasured cries were alluring and intoxicating.

Her head jerked as the tendril passed into her throat and pushed across her tongue.

Dean gaped, eyes wide and staring. The tip slipped from her lips and pumped outwards like some alien tongue. It thrust in and out, pulling and pushing from her cunt to her mouth, flooding her body with its poison slime.

Gagging and suffocating, Y/N felt herself slipping into darkness. The buzzing grew louder and the suckers pulled harder. Her thigh quaked as she came and her muscles squeezed hard around the appendages, coaxing it to fuck her harder.

“Y/N!”

His voice faded into the background, so far away, so quiet.

The larger tentacle forced itself through her lips again and blue tinged liquid pulsed from the tip. It exploded from her mouth, choking her and covering her face and chest in a thick, oozing cum-like mess.

Dean shuddered, his body shaking as he came in his jeans, untouched and disgusted with himself, terrified for Y/N. He clenched his teeth and roared, using what little strength he had left to yank at the chains.

Y/N’s body twitched as the tentacles retreated. They slithered from her holes and untangled themselves from her limbs, setting her free.

Dean held his breath, watching her chest. She wasn’t moving.

“Y/N?”

His eyes flooded with wetness and he blinked a single tear that slid down his face, catching in the stubble.

“Y/N…”

Suddenly, her eyes popped open and she took a breath. Mechanically, she sat up and twisted to look up at Dean.

Her smile was unnatural and terrifying, her lips stretching too far up into her cheeks. Her eyes were wrong, the irises overtaken with neon purple light.

“Y/N?”

She stood, climbing to her feet with minimal effort. She opened her mouth and an unearthly tongue curled out, licking the cum from her face. She smiled again and cocked her head, regarding Dean.

“Thank you for the female,” she said, voice high-pitched and awkward. “She will be very useful.”

The metal cut into his wrists again and Dean raged, screaming for her as she walked away.

The shelves slid closed behind her and Dean was left alone in the cold darkness, confused and horrified.

“Y/N!”

“Dean! Hey!”

She slapped his cheek and he woke, jerking up and away from her. He kicked at the blanket and scrambled for his gun, a strangled cry dying in the back of his throat.

“Whoa!” Y/N pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed, her hands raised in surrender, her sleepy face twisted with worry. “Dean! It’s me!”

A deep breath pushed him back into reality. “Holy shit!” He scrubbed a hand down his face and popped his jaw, uncomfortable and still reeling. “That was a dream?”

Y/N blinked at him, confused. “Uh… probably. What the hell happened? You started kicking me and when I woke up you were twisted and screaming.”

The dream played tricks on him, tinting her eyes purple and snaking a tiny eel around her throat, but he pushed it away. He slapped his cheeks and rubbed at his eyes.

“Wow. That was insane.”

Settling, he leaned back against the headboard and opened his arms. Carefully, Y/N slid in next to him.

“Babe, you’re soaked through with sweat…” Y/N lifted the cotton from his chest and cringed. “Gross. You OK?”

He exhaled loudly and nodded, dropping his arm around her shoulder. “Yeah. Just a really… really fucked up dream.”

Y/N snuggled close and slipped her arm around his waist, making him jump.

“Wow, I guess it was.”

He laughed at himself and sighed. “Gotta stop watching all that hentia. It’s doin’ things to me.”

Y/N danced her fingers over his stomach and down. “Not all bad things…” Her hand slipped and she cupped his dick, rubbing gently.

Still on edge, Dean hissed and grabbed her wrist, carefully guiding her away. “Yeah. Not… not now… Bad. Bad things.”

Laughing sweetly, she set her arm back around his chest and cuddled close. “Maybe you should really be looking up tornadoes before bed. Those never gave you nightmares.”

“Yeah, maybe.” He smirked and rubbed a hand down her arm. “Definitely gotta lay off the monster fucking… for a while, anyway…”

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