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l1tw1ck · 8 months

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In Exchange

Sub!Bottom!FTM Sam Winchester x Dom!Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 3,617 ☆

AFAB Language Used

blacked out every time i wrote this like jekyll and hyde 😭 /j

CW: Non-Con, Sexual Coercion, Drugging, Blowjob, Cum Swallowing, Creampie, Pregnancy Mention, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Puppy Play (Collar, Puppy Sam), Nipple Sucking, Riding, Corruption

“Excuse me, are you [Name]?” Sam walks up to you as you're smoking outside a bar.

“What's it to you?”

“I’m Joseph Johnson. I'm a detective.” Sam shows you his badge just long enough for you to believe him. “I’d like to ask you some questions about the recent incident.”

“Then you’d better give up and ask someone else.”

Sam looks at you in dismay. “You're the only living witness, we won't be able to get anywhere without you!”

“I’m not sharing anything without something in return.”

He perks up. “I've got about 60 buc-”

“I'm not looking for money. I want you to get on your knees and give me a blowjob.”

He looks at you in shock. “Are you serious?”

“Completely. Make your choice, Sherlock.”

There is no choice. He needs this information in order to save the town. He has to do it. “Fine…Just don't make me swallow.”

You stub out your cigarette. “You're not in a position to make demands, sweetheart. You're gonna swallow it if you want me to talk.”

Chills run down his spine. You're so assertive, it's…..sexy. He almost slaps himself. He lets out a big sigh. “Okay.”

You smile. “Hold on.” You enter the bar and come out a few minutes later with a bottle of beer. It's already been opened. That makes Sam suspicious but in your defense, he doesn't have a bottle opener on him. Against his better judgment, he chugs the bottle.

He notices the chilling grin on your face but hopes it's not because you drugged him. You lead him to a secluded alleyway. “Kneel.” You unbuckle your belt.

“Here? Are you serious?”

“Didn't you hear me, pretty boy? Kneel.”

Sam frowns and gets down on his knees. He gulps upon seeing your hard cock. He’s never seen one in real life before, after all, he's never gone far enough for that.

“Open wide.” You tug on his hair. He looks at you with contempt but opens his mouth anyways. The feeling of your cock entering his mouth is completely foreign. It's way different than sucking on a popsicle or some other iced treat. It’s warm and pulsing. And it's thick, so thick his jaw hurts. “As I thought, you look much better with my cock stuffed in your mouth.”

Sam shivers. He can't believe that turned him on. His body suddenly begins to rise in temperature, as if he's come down with a fever. You don't seem to care about his reddening face as you slowly drag him back and forth on your cock. He stops worrying about it, even as he starts to feel more aroused than he should. He just closes his eyes and discreetly ruts against his hand as you do all the work for him. He feels so wet that his slick is probably bleeding through his underwear. He desperately needs to touch himself but he's sober enough to feel embarrassed about doing so. It's so hard for him to feel pleasure through his pants that he's started whimpering. You don't know why he's doing that but you're not complaining about the new sensation you're feeling.

“Shit- I’m already gonna come-” You moan. “Your mouth is amazing, sweetheart, you're better off selling it than being a detective.”

Sam moans as you come in his mouth. His mind is so hazy and high on whatever you drugged him with that he actually feels happy to swallow your seed. He’s completely out of his mind.

You pull him away from your cock and pry open his mouth with your thumb to make sure he's swallowed everything. “Good boy.”

He looks at you almost demurely.

“It’d be a shame to stop here, don't you think?” You run your fingers through his hair. The drug seems to have kicked in completely so you know he’ll agree.

“Mhm..”

“It’d be nice if I could fuck that sweet ass of yours...”

“Not there...” He shakes his head.

“Why not? I’d make you feel real good.”

“Isn't my pussy better?” Sam smiles, unbuckling his belt.

“It definitely is.” You smirk.

Sam shakily gets up on his feet and drops his pants and boxers to his ankles. He walks over to the wall and bends over, giving you a drunken smile. You look at his pussy and feel your cock immediately come back to life. He's so wet that his slick is on the inner corner of his thighs. You can't wait to dive into that.

You stick two of your fingers inside him, not caring for how that makes him feel, and explore his insides. He's soft, warm, and oh so fucking wet. Sam moans, too drugged to consider the fact that he's in public.

“Th- there!” His voice and legs are shaking. “Yes-yes-yes–”

“Already gonna come, darling?” You find his g-spot and immediately cause him to squirt. You watch in awe, painfully hard thanks to this mesmerizing display. You pull your fingers out and slowly inch your cock inside him. “Sorry, I just couldn't wait any longer. You don't mind, right, baby?”

Sam moans, eyes half lidded. “Mm- deeper~”

“The drug’s really changed you…or maybe it's just allowed your real personality to show?” You smirk, going deeper as he requested. “I might have to keep drugging you if it means I can fuck this sweet pussy of yours.”

He shivers, leaning further against the wall as you make him experience his pussy stretching to accommodate your girth for the first time. “Bi- big~” He bites his lip, absolutely blissed out.

“You like how big I am? Or how good your cunt feels stretching to fit me?”

“Ye- yes~ so good~” He answers both of your questions. “My pussy feels so good, [Name]~”

“Yeah? I’ll make it feel even better.” Once you bottom out you start fucking him at a rough pace. The warm and slippery feeling of his cunt is making you too aroused to control yourself. You cover Sam’s mouth with your hand, knowing he won't even try to keep quiet. Your hand quickly becomes drenched with his saliva, a constant vibration thanks to Sam moaning. You can still hear his moans, albeit muffled, but at a much better level that suits your location. “You're such a good boy, you know? Taking my cock so fucking well. If we were at my place, I’d be happy to hear you moan.”

Sam’s body reacts to being called a good boy, his cunt clenching around you once again.

“I wish I could have you, a cute puppy like you should have an owner. Although, I don't know if I have the strength to actually let you go.” You pull down the collar from the back of his shirt and bite him, making a mark that’s sure to last a while. You can tell just by hearing him and feeling the way his cunt reacts that he liked that. “How about you touch yourself for me, pup? I want you to feel extra good.”

Sam brings his hand down to his t-dick, gently stroking himself and accelerating the amount of time it’ll take him to have an orgasm.

“Look at you, following orders so well.”

He whimpers in response.

“You’d be better off belonging to me than some agency, don't you think?” You move your hand away from his mouth.

“Ye- yes- wanna be yours!” He moans, squirting again on your cock. In his current state of mind, he feels overjoyed at the idea of abandoning his dangerous “career” for a life full of pleasure and submission. He won't have to think or put his life on the line anymore. Right now, he doesn't have the ability to think rationally and being your dog is all he wants. “Tak- take me! I wanna be your puppy~!”

You bury your head in his shoulder, slowing down. “I’ll hold you to that. Gonna make sure you can't change your mind and leave me.” You come inside of him despite knowing he wouldn't want this if he was sober. At this point you don't care what he thinks, you just want him. Maybe the whiskey you had earlier is finally getting to you...

Sam wakes up on his motel bed, feeling something inside his underwear, a painful feeling in his neck, and a sharp headache. He closes his eyes and tries to recall what happened last night. He soon starts to remember everything, even after the drug kicked in. He should be angry but he isn't. He's horny. He sits up on the bed and looks around.

“Dean?” He calls out. No response. He leans back and brings his hand into his pants, sliding his index and middle finger down his slick cunt. He feels your cum and pushes it back inside him, fingering himself with your cum. He doesn't want to get pregnant but he can't help himself. Just doing this makes him so horny…He feels like a perv.

Sam leans back and moans, feeling extra sensitive. He remembers how you made him squirt for the first time and how it’d probably feel even more amazing if he could do it sober. He starts to think about all the compliments you gave him and how you wanted to make him yours. He knows he should be focusing on hunting, especially because of his powers, but he can't help but yearn for a safe life with you. He doesn't even really know you. He did a background check on you but he didn't look at anything that would’ve given him any information about your personality. He can't believe that a one night with you is making him feel like this. Making him want to relinquish his autonomy to a stranger.

He murmurs your name, absolutely enamored with you. Are you even human? You have to have some special power to make him so infatuated with you. Right?

Before he can reach his climax, the sound of the doorknob twisting stops him. Sam quickly takes out his hand and rubs it on his clothes. Dean opens up the door and immediately looks at Sam.

“Where the hell were you last night? And why are you in the same clothes?”

“I- I uh…got drunk.” He looks at him sheepishly.

“Why?!”

“[Name] didn't want to talk unless I won a drinking game…I won.”

Dean looks surprised. “That guy must be even more of a lightweight than you are.”

Sam laughs awkwardly.

“So what's the story?”

“I don't know–” Sam stops thanks to Dean’s expression. “Yet! I’ll call him today.”

“You got his number?”

Sam vaguely remembers you putting something in his pocket. He digs into his right pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. He opens it up. I’ll talk. I left you hangover medicine, the morning after pill, and a pregnancy test. Let me know the results when the time comes. [Your Number]. “Yeah. I got it.” He turns to the bedside table and sees a bag with the logo from the local pharmacy. His heart flutters from your consideration. Which is ironic, considering what you did to him.

“Good. Take a shower and eat something, then call him.” Dean grabs the remote, gets onto his bed, and turns on the tv.

At around 11, Sam called you and now you're sitting outside a café with “Joseph” and his partner, “Francis”.

“There's two of you.” You raise your eyebrow. “Looks like you're not Sherlock, but one of the hardy boys.” You chuckle.

Sam laughs awkwardly. “This is my partner–”

“Wait, let me guess, Frank?”

“Francis. My friends call me Frank.” He smiles, impressed that you got the reference.

“Joseph and Franics. Interesting coincidence.” You’re tempted to inquire further but you decide not to. You're not too excited to recount the story but you’d rather just get it over with.

“And that was it.” You lean back into the chair. You noticed Sam was staring at you the entire time but you ignored it, you don't want to bring anything up with Dean around.

“Thanks for telling us. We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Dean stands up and shakes your hand. “Alright, let's go.” He turns to Sam.

“I- I actually have something to do, go without me.”

“What? What the hell could be so important?”

Sam looks away and doesn't answer.

Dean sighs heavily. “Fine. But don't let me find out you're trying to meet some girl or something.” He shakes his head and walks over to his car.

“So, what’s more important than your investigation?” You tilt your head in interest.

“I remember what happened last night.”

“I sure hope so, that's the whole reason I’m here.”

“No, I remember that you drugged me.”

You’re a little surprised, that wasn't supposed to happen. You know he won't turn you in though. You’re sure of it. “Are ya gonna turn me in, Mr. Hardy?” You smile teasingly.

“Not if you do something for me in return. It's only fair, right?”

You give him an amused look. “Of course, puppy, it's only fair.”

Sam blushes at the name.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Drive me to your place and you'll find out.”

“Alright, we'll have to make a quick stop though.” You grin and lead him to your car.

Sam enters your home, anxious for two reasons. One, because you went to a sex shop and told him what you bought is a secret. And two, because he's about to request something that nobody in their right mind would do after being taken advantage of in such a way.

He sits on your bed and watches you as you place the bag on your desk and reveal what you bought. A collar that closely resembles one for a dog, but clearly made to be worn by a human. Sam’s entire body heats up.

“Just a little something to remember me by.” You hand him the collar

He frowns slightly, he doesn't want to leave you. He doesn't know why he's so obsessed with you but he brushes away the thought and puts the collar on. He looks adorable. “Now you have to do my request.” He unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants. “I want you to eat me out.” He's been fantasizing about this in the shower. He can't leave this town without experiencing this at least once.

You lick your lips. “That's it? If that's what you want, I’ll be glad to do it.” You pull his pants and underwear off for him and kneel in between his legs. You slowly drag your tongue up his pussy, tasting him for the first time. You let out a soft noise of pleasure before wrapping your lips around his t-dick and slowly easing two your fingers into his cunt. Sam throws his head back and moans unabashedly as you suck him off, his body heating up. This is so much better than just fingering himself. Your mouth feels so good.

“Like that- yes~” Sam rolls his eyes back. It won't take long for him to come. “[Name]~!” He gasps when your fingers reach his g-spot. “Oh my God–” He falls back onto the bed, quickly climbing towards his orgasm. You add a third finger and continue to finger his wetness while sucking his cock more passionately. Sam can't even manage to get any words out, he feels too fucking good to even think about anything. He instinctively wraps his legs around your head and squirts, drenching you. He takes a few moments before letting go of you.

You pull away and lick your lips. “Now, how about a round two?”

Sam nods, removing his clothes. “I wanna ride you.”

“I’d love that.”

Sam hovers above your hard length, his left hand holding it in his place and his right on your shoulder. He lowers himself onto your cock, gasping when he feels you stretching him open. Despite his memory being mostly clear from that night, the pleasure he remembered wasn't enough to prepare him for this. “Fuck–!” He moans, continuing to lower himself down. Tears run down his cheeks thanks to the painful pleasure he's experiencing. “You're- so, so big-” He's breathless.

“You're adorable, puppy.” You hold his cheek in your hand. “I know you can handle it though, keep going.”

Sam moves further down until you're completely inside him. He looks at you, tears still streaming down.

“Good boy.” You kiss him. His eyes widen for a moment before closing his eyes and reciprocating the kiss. You briefly pull away to open your mouth and Sam is quick to catch on. You return to kissing him but now with your tongue. Sam considers himself a master at kissing, since it's the most he’s ever done. At least when it comes to receiving.

Sam finds himself grinding down on your cock, finding pleasure in the way you feel inside him.

You pull away from him and move down to his neck to bite and kiss it. You now move even further and wrap your lips around his nipple, happily sucking on it while your hand goes to massage his other breast. Sam whimpers and squeezes your cock happily. He could get used to this. Just being a dumb, slutty puppy for you to use sounds great to him. Sorry Dean and the greater good, Sam is giving up on being a hunter and choosing to become a simple toy.

You reluctantly leave his breasts and look at Sam with a smile. “Why don't you try riding me now?”

“Okay..” Sam places both his hands on your shoulders and slowly rises. He whimpers at the feeling. He never had the confidence to try using a dildo so he had no idea how intense this would feel. He quickly lowers himself, missing the feeling of your entire cock inside him. Even losing a few inches is upsetting for him.

“You don't want to do it anymore? Is it too hard for you, puppy?”

He looks away from you. “I want all of you inside me…”

“Aw, you can't even stand a few seconds? I promise you won't even feel it as long as you keep up a fast pace. It’ll feel much better than just having me inside you…although I do enjoy having you keep my cock warm.”

Sam tries riding you properly but he's still feeling weak and can't do it fast enough. He stops and looks at you.

“Let me help you.” You grab his waist and lift him up and down at a fast pace. Sam rolls his head back and moans in pleasure. “See? It feels good.”

“So- so good!” He cries. He feels so good that he barely even feels the painful slapping of his breasts against his chest. He can't even focus his sight, pain is nearly obsolete to him. He brings his hand down to his dick, stroking it as best he can. You can tell he's about to come.

“Come on, puppy, come for me.” You smirk. It doesn't take much longer after that for Sam to come. He squirts, making a mess on your body. “Good boy. Now it's my turn.”

Sam gasps as his body is suddenly pushed onto the bed, your hands squeezing his wrists tightly. “Just a little more, I know you can take it.” You roughly thrust into his cunt, indulging in the lovely wet warmth of his pussy. Sam doesn't mind, on the contrary, he’s happy to be used just to get you off. “You're so obedient, sweetheart, so perfect.” You start to act more like a dog than Sam, your horniness compelling you to rut into him like a wild beast. He can barely handle it thanks to the previous activities but he's fighting to stay awake. Seeing you in this state is much too arousing to miss.

“Tha- thank you~” He smiles stupidly.

Just hearing him say that with an expression like that makes you come. You briefly grip his wrists harder then loosen it as you come down from your high. “I don't want to let you go..”

“Me neither…I like being your puppy.” His eyelids start to feel heavy. “Wanna keep getting used…” He falls asleep. You kiss his forehead and pull out. You've never given an unconscious person a bath but it shouldn't be too hard.

Dean pounds angrily on your front door, a gun in his pocket ready to shoot you if necessary. Thanks to an eyewitness report from the café employee, he found out where Sam went. He doesn't know what's going on but he's furious. He hasn't answered his calls and he hasn't seen him since yesterday.

You open the door. “Ah! Francis. Here to pick up your partner?” You pause.

“What the fuck did you do to my brother?”

“Nothing he didn't like.” You reply plainly. “He's perfectly fine and drinking some tea. I’ll show you.”

Dean looks at Sam in shock. He's just wearing a big shirt and probably underwear. “Sam! What's going on?”

“I’m sorry, but I want to stay here. I love [Name] and I don't want to leave him.”

“WHAT?!” He's completely taken aback.

“You heard him. You’ll have to head back on your own. I’ll get his stuff for him.”

Dean doesn't trust you at all. He's going to be doing a lot of research on whatever monster you might be. He's convinced you're not human. “I’m staying longer. You probably did something to him…I don't trust you.”

“That's fine.” You smile. You have something else to worry about. “So…who's Sam?”

Sam and Dean both look at each other. Looks like they're going to have to reveal the truth, at least partially...

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #sam winchester x male reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut #dom male reader #tw noncon #ftm character #🕯️supernatural

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caspsfang · 9 months

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sam [ WINCHESTER ] ▬▬▬▬ ❝ It doesn't matter who you are, it only matters what you do . ❞

[ WARNING(S) ¿ ] bot!sam, ftm!sam, marking, amab reader, squirting, reversed cowgirl, car sex, semi-public sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism kink, multiple orgasms, creampie, not proof read - short .

How'd you end up in this current situation? You've got no idea. One minute you're on the way back to the motel to meet Dean with Sam. And the next.. You have Sam WINCHESTER bouncing on your cock like a mad man, car shaking harshly.

His Back was facing you, but by the way he sounded you could definitely figure out what his face looked like right now. His hands on the dashboard holding him up, the street lights on the dark road shining on you both.

Sam WINCHESTER who's moans were so loud you didn't even hear the first few times Dean called your phone, millions of texts being sent after each call asking if you two were okay, alive.

Sam WINCHESTER, the 'quiet but smart brother' wasn't any of those as of right now. Sam couldn't even form a from how hard he was being fucked, pussy squeezing around your fat cock occasionally. Moaning so loud that it's practically like screaming, his throat burning from such.

Sam lost count of how long you've been going at since his 4th orgasm, Pussy fluttering as he squirted again. Body convulsing as waves of pleasure hit him, begging you to cum inside of him again as he felt your cock twitch inside his cunt.

Sam WINCHESTER, a man of few words, but not currently, begging you to fill him between moans and whimpers falling from his mouth, hands gripping the dashboard so tight his knuckles turn white.

Sighing in relief as he felt your hot seed filling him again, wet squelching sounds filling the car, his moans getting higher pitched as you snaked your hand around him, fingers roughly circling his clit. Pushing him over the edge again, body shivering from pleasure.

Sam WINCHESTER who looks more than satisfied as you two finally drive back, tiredly smiling as he fell asleep in the passenger seat from exhaustion, listening in on your conversation with Dean on the phone, making up every excuse possible.

@caspsfang , do not repost nor copy .

#༒ — ★ 𝐂𝐀𝐒 writes #༒ — ☆ 𝐂𝐀𝐒 works #sam winchester x reader #Sam winchester x male reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #bottom male character #sub male character

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godjustkys · 5 months

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| mdni 18+

| SUPERNATURAL headcanons

please give requests.

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RATED: NSFW

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STATUS: You're already in a relationship.

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Request: none, I wrote it myself on February 23rd.

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Dean:

1 - He might not admit it, but god does he love being bent over;

2 - He is SO FUCKING LOUD. When he's on top, he mostly groans, occasionally moans, but when he's on bottom,, the whimpers, whines and moans that escape his mouth is unbelievable;

3 - Praise him and he's on his knees for you;

4 - If you EVER put on a cowboy costume and you have the cowboy boots on... he's hot and bothered the moment he lays his eyes on you;

5 - LOVES pulling on your hair during intercourse;

6 - If the two of you are having sex and he's overwhelmed, he'll grab a pillow to hold onto or grip the sheets;

7 - You two have fucked in the back of Baby.. per Dean's request.. (surprisingly.);

8 - Once, in the heat of the moment, you started facefucking Dean while he was giving you a blowjob and ever since that happened, it's been his favourite thing about sex;

9 - You manhandling him is his guilty pleasure;

10 - At the start of the relationship, Dean believed that it would kind of be a switch-switch situation during sex. When you fucked for the first time, Dean was riding you and his legs started shaking. At that moment, he was thinking about getting off of you, but when you grabbed his hips and made him ride you up until the end, he gave up on that thought.

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Sam:

1 - He is not loud at all. Sure, a couple moans here and there but it's mostly just heavy breathing or grunts. Unless he's overstimulated;

2 - Whenever he's horny, he won't make it clear to you. He just gets all grumpy and grouchy;

3 - Unlike Dean, when he's overwhelmed, he'll hold onto you. And he'll scratch the living hell out of your back;

4 - If you mess with his hair during sex, so much as pull on it, he will moan;

5 - Once, when Sam got back from a hunt with an unconscious Dean, you scolded him and he got hard. (involuntarily);

6 - Sam insisted on trying mirror sex - lo and behold, he had his face buried in the sheets for the majority of it (when you didn't hold his head up). Why? He was embarrassed;

7 - During a hunt, Sam got really grumpy. You had to do something about it because Dean's taunting demeanour would set him off immediately, so you just dragged Sam into the bathroom, when Dean was out, for a quickie. It worked wonders;

8 - You had a habit of not caring about shortness of breath when kissing, so when you first made out with Sam, he thought he was gonna pass out. (He was overreacting, he was nowhere close to passing out);

9 - He LOVES it when you're bold and straightforward, it turns him on so much;

10 - His whole body starts shaking due to pleasure if you focus on his chest and neck too much.

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Castiel:

1 - If he's in the mood for it, he won't tell you. He will just stare at you until you figure it out yourself;

2 - If there is a moment when Castiel doesn't put his hands on your chest or stare at it, consider it a miracle;

3 - He cannot comprehend why he can't form coherent sentences during intercourse. He says "it must be some kind of curse". In reality, he's just too into it to care enough about speaking properly, but he does not realize it;

4 - Castiel does not realize how much you being rough with him turns him on. Degrade him for a couple seconds and he's hard;

5 - During sex, he holds onto you so tightly with his hands that a lot of the time, they leave bruises. Once, he noticed them and asked what happened. When you told him that they were from him, he just looked at you confused and said: "I never hit you?";

6 - Even though you being rough riles him up a lot, he prefers soft and gentle sex.

7 - When the four of you, you, Sam, Dean and Castiel were riding in Baby (you and Cas in the back seat), you decided to just lay your head in Castiel's lap and get comfortable. He was your boyfriend after all. It was fine at first, you even closed your eyes. Then suddenly, Castiel pushed you off. You sat up looking at him puzzled. He just gave you glare as he looked out of the window and covered his crotch. (Inconvenient places to get hard #2);

8 - He knows how mad it drives you when he gives you that soft innocent look during sex, it just makes you want to go rougher on him;

9 - He once asked you to 'rail him' without knowing what it meant. When you explained it to him, he replied with "oh, okay. So will you?";

10 - He finds your hands (minus your chest) the most attractive thing in the world. He WILL stare at your hands during intercourse because he wants them on him 24/7.

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A/n: if you want any of these headcanons to be made into a oneshot, please let me know. <3

#male reader #top male reader #dom male reader #fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #castiel x reader #castiel x you #headcanon #request

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chaoticforever · 3 months

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When The Dark Crawls | Yandere Dean Winchester x Male! Reader

Summary: Everyone knows that when a cat chases a mouse, the mouse looses. Dean lives for the thrill of the chase, and Y/n L/n? The man just wanted to leave.

A/n: Not too sure about this one.

Damn these handcuffs, Y/n thought.

The cold metal of the handcuffs dug into his skin, causing him discomfort and making it difficult to move his right hand. He gazed around the area, hoping to find something that could allow him to unlock them, but didn’t see anything. He needed to find something fast before a certain someone came barging in here.

And that someone is Dean Winchester.

A well-known hunter who had saved Y/n's life from bloodthirsty vampires that wanted to suck the blood out of him. In the beginning, Y/n had been so grateful to have met the man. He would be dead right now if it wasn't for Dean, after all.

However, as it turned out, that wasn't the last time they had seen each other. The following week after the whole vampire incident, the h/c man had been attacked again, and it seemed like he had nothing but bad luck with all these supernatural creatures attacking him for no reason.

Once again, Dean was there to save the day. He had shown up at the abandoned house they had Y/n trapped in with lots of silver bullets and managed to kill the werewolves and free Y/n from his binds.

Again, Y/n had thanked Dean for saving his life, and Dean just said that it wasn't an issue and that maybe he should stay with him tonight to ensure he was safe. The hunter laughed it off as a joke, but Y/n decided to take him up on that offer. He didn't want to risk another near-death experience. They say that third time's a charm, and next time he might not be so lucky to get away like the last two times.

On that day, Y/n asked about Dean's life and the circumstances that led him to engage in combat with these creatures, which he had not even believed in until a week prior. Dean explained to him that he and his brother hunt these monsters and it's the family business. Y/n couldn't imagine growing up like that, but he told Dean that if he ever needed any form of help from him, such as a place to lay low to let him know. Dean did save his life so Y/n believed that he should reciprocate.

And a friendship between them formed, where Dean would stop by whenever he was on a hunt to check in or if he simply wanted to hang out with Y/n. Y/n always welcomed him. It's not like he had many friends, so he was glad to have another. However, he had noticed something.

Like the way Dean looked at him.

Y/n was not stupid. In fact, he was quite perceptive, and he was aware that Dean had a crush on him. He made sure to let Dean know that despite his gratitude, he doesn't share the same sentiment. Dean is an attractive guy, with beautiful forest green eyes, yet he only perceives him as a friend. After the rejection, Dean said it was fine as long as they were still friends.

However, it seems that Dean lied to him, as evidenced by the way he continued to touch and stare at him. In passing, Dean would find different excuses to touch or brush up against him. He found reasons to be near Y/n; their paths crossed more frequently than before. Y/n would turn a corner, and Dean would be there, leaning against a wall with a smirk on his face. He'd be at the same coffee shop, sitting at a nearby table, looking at him with a predatory gaze. When he went on a date, there was Dean, glaring at Y/n's date the entire time with a steak knife in his hand.

Hence, he felt increasingly uneasy with Dean's constant presence, but whenever he mentioned it, the hunter insisted that he was protecting him. Y/n did not share this perspective and informed Dean that he needed some space away from him. Dean's jaw tightened, and he warned Y/n that he'd regret his dismissive treatment.

Later, he discovered that Dean had been quite serious in his words, as the day Y/n's car unexpectedly broke down on the road one night and Dean kidnapped him, taking him to a secluded cabin far away. Dean claimed that Y/n belonged to him and was protecting him from everything that was evil in the world. He had to do it.

Y/n had attempted to escape before, but he was recaptured by Dean every single time. As punishment, Dean would spank Y/n's bare ass with his hand. Since then, he had learned not to attempt an escape while Dean was present, opting instead to try when he was absent. It wasn't fair that Dean decided to ruin his life, and he was determined to reclaim his freedom.

The h/c-haired male opened the drawer next to the bed and was relieved that he saw a paperclip. He knew people usually pick door locks with this clip, therefore, he was hoping it could pick a cuff lock.

Quickly, he bent down and picked up the paperclip, his fingers shaking as he tried to manipulate it into a makeshift key. He inserted the bent end into the keyhole of the handcuffs, twisting and turning it in a desperate attempt to unlock it. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he struggled.

"C’mon," Y/n muttered under his breath.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the handcuffs unlocked, and the cold metal fell off his wrist. Thank God. He exhaled, rubbing his tender wrists, still feeling the lingering sensation of those handcuffs. I am free. Not wasting another moment, he stood up and darted out of the room, peering through the blinds to survey for any sign of Dean. A wave of relief came over him when he didn't spot the Impala.

Y/n's heart pounded in his chest as he bolted out of the cabin, his feet carrying him farther away from his captivity. Y/n didn't know where he was going, but he didn't care. All that mattered to him was getting as far away from this location as possible before Dean realized he's gone. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he continued to run through the woods. despite him feeling incredibly exhausted.

Soon, Y/n reached the road and was so overjoyed when he spotted a car coming down the road. "Hey, stop!" Y/n jumped in front of the car and threw himself in front of it, causing the driver to slam on their brakes before the car could hit him.

The driver — a tall guy with brown hair —exited the car and promptly approached Y/n, looking worried. "Are you okay, sir?"

Y/n shook his head, his voice breathless from the running he did. "I'm not. This guy... he kidnapped me. Please, help me."

The tall man nodded. "I'll help you. Get in the car." He opened the passenger door.

"Thank you," Y/n slid into the passenger seat and buckled up as the other male shut the door and got behind the wheel.

"It's no issue," he turned the keys and the car roared to life. He stepped on the gas and the car cruised down the open road. The man glanced over at the one sitting in the passenger seat. "If you want, you can stay with me tonight. Then we can deal with whoever took you tomorrow."

"That would be great, thank you again." Y/n was sincere. "Do you have a name?"

After those words escaped his lips, Y/n wanted to hit himself. Of course, he has a name. Everyone on this planet has one.

The driver laughed. "It's Jared. And you?"

"Y/n."

During the remainder of the drive, Jared maintained a focused gaze on the road ahead while Y/n observed the passing scenery through the window in thought. The events of the past few months with Dean had left Y/n a bit shaken, but he felt incredibly fortunate that someone had been driving by at the right time to help Y/n escape from that stupid hunter.

When Jared brought his vehicle to a halt, Y/n shifted his attention to the imposing structure before him. The exterior looked quite old, and Y/n turned to face Jared, his expression marked by confusion.

"Uh, why are we here? I thought you said you were taking me back to your place."

"And that's what I'm doing now," Jared said. "This building is where I live. It's my bunker. You'll be safe here, don't worry."

Y/n regarded the place with suspicion, feeling a sense of unease that caused warning bells to ring in his mind. Despite his apprehension, he chose to ignore his intuition. After all, Jared had gone out of his way to help him, even though he wasn't obligated to, and Y/n decided to trust him. If it wasn't for Jared, he would still be at the cabin with Dean, and that was not a situation he wanted to be in.

Jared opened the car door for Y/n and escorted him inside the bunker. Despite the unappealing exterior, the interior was surprisingly inviting. Y/n appreciated the contrast. Jared then led Y/n to the room where he would be staying for the night, excusing himself to retrieve a blanket.

Y/n took a moment to assess the room, noting its basic amenities: a bed, a desk, and a drawer with a lamp, which was the only light source. Despite its simplicity, Y/n found the room to be quite inviting.

Later, Jared re-entered the room with a blanket, fresh towels, a washcloth, and a toothbrush. "Here's a blanket in case you get cold, a toothbrush for your teeth, and a towel and washcloth for your shower," he explained, placing the blanket on the bed, the toothbrush on the desk, and the towel and washcloth on the rack. "Get some sleep. I know it's been a long day."

"Thank you so much, Jared. I don't know what I would've done without your help." Y/n expressed his gratitude once again because he needed this man to know that he was so grateful for helping him.

Jared smiled reassuringly at Y/n. "No problem at all. I'm just glad I could help."

Jared left the room and closed the door behind him. Y/n lay on the bed and put the blankets over him, closing his eyes.

He was finally free.

Dean couldn’t get to him now.

XXXXX XXXXX

The next day, Y/n awoke feeling utterly refreshed. It had been a while since he'd slept so well, and according to the clock, he had slept for more than twelve hours. Although he hadn't intended to sleep for so long, he supposed his body needed it.

Rising up from the bed, Y/n gathered his towel, washcloth, and toothbrush, and proceeded to the bathroom. After a brief exploration, he found the bathroom and removed his clothes before entering the shower. The warm water cascaded over his skin, providing a soothing sensation as it cleansed his body and his mind.

After taking his shower and brushing his teeth, he returned to the guest room and he decided to wait for Jared to return so that they could discuss their next move.

Folding the covers meticulously, Y/n heard the door creak open from behind. Knowing that it was Jared, Y/n initiated a conversation without turning around. "Hey, Jared. Thanks for allowing me to—"

Panic seized Y/n's heart as he retreated a step. There, in the doorway, was Dean Winchester with a devilish smirk on his face that sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. No! Y/n's thoughts raced with alarm: he was free. How did Dean find him again?

Dean edged closer, attempting to narrow the gap between them. "Surprised to see me, Y/n?" he mocked, voice laced with amusement from the fear in Y/n's eyes.

Y/n retreated, pressing his back against the wall. "H-How did you find me?" he stammered, his face contorted with fear. The intimidating man's presence made it impossible for Y/n to conceal his terror.

A dark chuckle emitted from Dean's lips as he closed the remaining distance between them. Now face-to-face with Y/n, he slammed his hand against the wall beside him, trapping him against it. "Oh, I always find what's mine," he declared. "And you, sweetheart, are definitely mine."

"I'm not yours!" Y/n retorted, but his defiance was quickly overshadowed by a pressing concern. "What did you do to Jared?" he asked, worry clear in his tone.

Dean's smirk widened. "Jared's not real," he divulged, causing Y/n to stare at him in bewilderment. "His real name is Sam, my brother. And this bunker? It's ours."

Y/n felt his world shatter once the truth unraveled. He had never escaped; Jared, no Sam, brought him back to Dean. Y/n had been deceived from the beginning.

"This can't be true," Y/n whispered.

Dean's fingers trailed possessively down his arm. "It is true, my little plaything," he gripped Y/n's jaw and forced a hard kiss upon him, only to break away when Y/n continued to resist his advances. "Stop fighting it, pretty boy. Just let it happen."

No, this was bullshit. Y/n wasn't going to just let it happen or continue to cower in submission. Y/n delivered a swift kick to Dean's groin, causing him to crumple to his knees, clutching his injured area. He fled as Dean's chilling laughter echoed throughout the place Dean taunted Y/n, urging him to run, claiming that he loved the chase. Y/n sprinted, feeling the wind whip against his face. He needed to get away on his own, unable to trust anyone in case another person he bumped into happened to be acquainted with Dean.

The surrounding area seemed devoid of buildings and people for miles, but in the distance, Y/n saw an abandoned house. It was his only option. He dashed inside. The interior had peeling wallpaper and boarded-up windows, yet it didn't look that bad. Y/n figured that Dean wouldn't consider searching for him here. His plan was to remain hidden until he was certain that he was safe, free from Dean.

The floorboards creaked beneath Y/n as he raced up the stairs, and the bathroom door was the first one he encountered. Y/n didn't hesitate before entering the shower and closed the curtain, trying his hardest to calm his ragged breathing.

Seconds turned into minutes, and in the deafening silence, Y/n believed he might have escaped Dean's clutches this time. But the illusion shattered when he heard doors opening, the floorboards creaking, and the taunting voice that was Dean's.

Suddenly, the bathroom door opened, and Y/n stopped himself from breathing.

"Y/n, are you in here?" Dean's voice was laced with false sincerity. "Get out here. There's no point in hiding. I'll find you."

Y/n remained silent and unmoving in the shower, but it became very challenging, particularly as a spider crept up his leg. Not now. Get off me. The spider, though, disregarded Y/n's silent plea and kept crawling. Unable to endure the crawly sensation any longer, Y/n used his right foot to kick the spider off his left leg and killed it as quietly as he possibly could.

Y/n's heart pounded.

Two steps outside the bathroom, the green-eyed male halted, his attention drawn by a faint noise emanating from the shower. A smirk tugged at his mouth as he turned around, his gaze narrowing.

"So, that's where you are?" Dean walked back into the bathroom and yanked the curtains open, revealing an empty space.

A moment of confusion clouded Dean's face as he scanned the empty shower for Y/n. Unbeknownst to him, Y/n had silently exited through the second door connected to the bathroom and hidden in the nearby room's closet. This cat-and-mouse game between them intensified with each passing moment, but still, Y/n remained steadfast in his determination.

Yet, at the same time, Y/n struggled with the fear of being caught. He knew Dean was a highly skilled hunter, who's good at tracking people down. His chances of escaping were slim to none, but he was going to take his chances, nevertheless.

Y/n could hear Dean's footsteps echoing through the house, growing louder as he approached the room Y/n was hiding in. Then, the door to the room opened, and Y/n remained silent and still as Dean sauntered fully into the room. Not again.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Dean persisted, his voice saturated with that sick, sadistic satisfaction. "You can run, but you can't hide from me forever."

Y/n's fingers trembled as he searched for anything he could use as a weapon, but there was no weapon in the closet. Nothing. Y/n pressed himself against the wall, accidentally triggering a hidden mechanism that pushed him backward into a secret room nestled in the closet.

"Just you wait," Dean said, approaching the closet, his fingers curling around the handle with a predatory grace. "I have so many things in store for you, and you are going to love every fucking second of it. Ready or not, sweetheart, here I come."

With a swift motion, Dean yanked open the closet door, anticipating the sight of Y/n cowering in fear. To his surprise, the closet showed nothing but empty space. Dean's laugh echoed through the room. "I love this little game of cat and mouse, but trust me — I always catch my prey."

In the hidden room, Y/n's ear was on the wall, hearing the closet door closing and Dean's retreating footsteps. Y/n pushed open the secret room's door, entered the closet, and emerged into the main room.

The hidden man cracked the door open, the hinges silent, and he peered through the slightly ajar door. He observed Dean going up the stairs, heading to the attic. This was his opportunity, his one chance at freedom. Carefully, he eased the door open fully, ensuring not to make a sound.

Y/n's heart thundered in his chest as he tiptoed down the stairs, his eyes vigilant for Dean or his brother. He did not need any surprises. His pace quickened as he headed for the door, his hand hovering over the knob. He had done it. He won—

Suddenly, Y/n's body was sent crashing to the floor. Dean had appeared out of nowhere and tackled him to the ground. No, Y/n thought, his hopes shattered.

Y/n struggled to free himself from Dean's grasp and crawl toward the door, mere inches away. Dean, however, didn't plan on letting Y/n escape him this time. His grip on Y/n's legs remained firm as he pulled Y/n closer. Then, he pinned Y/n's hands above his head and placed his knee on Y/n's crotch, immobilizing him.

Dean smirked triumphantly down at his captured prey. "Man, that was a fun little game of cat and mouse, but you should know that you're my bitch." He reached into his pocket and retrieved a syringe, heightening Y/n's panic. Y/n struggled to free himself, but Dean's strength was overwhelming. He took the cap off and quickly jabbed the needle into Y/n's arm. Weakness washed over Y/n, rendering him helpless against his impending fate.

The green-eyed hunter chuckled darkly as he looked down at Y/n, caressing his face and letting his fingers trace over Y/n's lips. "I'm taking you home now. You'll never be able to escape me, pretty boy. Stop trying, and get used to being mine."

Y/n was starting to think that Dean was right. There's no way he can escape him.

Dean felt a sense of triumph as he looked down at Y/n, his little plaything. He had won, and there was no turning back. He knew that he had done terrible things to get him, but he didn't care. All that mattered was that he had Y/n, and no one would take Y/n away from him.

As the tall man carried Y/n away from the abandoned house and to the bunker, he could feel Y/n’s body tense up in his arms. Dean knew that he was terrified, but he didn't care. He would do whatever it took to keep the other man with him, even if that meant resorting to violence.

Dean placed Y/n on the bed in his room, their room, and could sense Y/n's fear permeating the air. He relished every bit of it, loving that Y/n was afraid of him and would soon understand who owned him. Dean needed to break Y/n, to make him see that Dean was his one protector from danger. He was doing all of this for Y/n, to ensure that he was always safe.

Dean climbed into the bed, wrapping his arms around Y/n and pulling him close. He could feel Y/n's body trembling with fear, but he didn't let go. He had to show him that he's in control. Now and always.

"It's alright, baby," Dean whispered in Y/n's ear, planting a kiss on the back of his man's neck. "I'm here, and I'll protect you from anything that could harm you, but don’t even think of trying to leave again unless you want a punishment. There’s no place you can go that I won’t get you."

Y/n remained silent, which didn't bother Dean, since he knew that after this day, Y/n wouldn't dare try to leave him again.

The green-eyed man held him close, and he thought about all the things he would do to keep Y/n with him. He would make sure that Y/n never left his sight, that he never spoke to anyone else, and that he was the only one who could protect him.

After all, Dean killed the few friends Y/n had to make Y/n dependent on Dean. He had proven his love and devotion to the man in the most extreme way possible.

And now he would do whatever it took to make sure that Y/n loved him back.

XXXXX XXXXX

#supernatural x reader #supernatural x male reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #yandere supernatural #yandere dean winchester #yandere dean winchester x reader #yandere dean winchester x male reader #dark dean winchester #dark dean winchester x male reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #male reader imagine

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suiternatural · 2 months

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national underwear day but WE KNOW. WE KNOW HE LIKES WEARING PINK LACEY SATINY PANTIES🫵🫵🫵

#wincest #winchester brothers #dean winchester #bottom dean winchester #samdean #top dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #spn #spn x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you

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monstersandmaw · 7 months

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Male kelpie (dad-bod, single father, biker) x plus size f. reader - Part One (sfw)

Background info post on the Full Moon Motorcycles group here Oats Appreciation post here

Featuring a plus-size, bisexual, not very confident reader, and a divorced, Scottish, single-dad, biker kelpie with a soft-dad bod and a heart as big as his bike’s engine (possibly bigger).

CW: there is a very brief moment where a character (not Oats!) insults the reader for her size and uses some fat-phobic language towards and about her, unaware that she can hear him. If you’re sensitive to that, it is brief, but you can skip from “…you caught the conversation drifting over from the other guys who’d arrived just ahead of you.” to the paragraph beginning, “After some deep breaths and a check in the mirror…”. Also, if you squint, there’s a passing moment that could possibly be interpreted as the reader having some potential issues with food, but it’s not intended to be a big deal and it’s only for about two sentences. Still putting it in here too, just in case.

Wordcount: 7562

You pushed open the glass door of Full Moon Motorcycles and willed yourself not to feel self-conscious or out of place.

Having both an older brother and a mother who rode motorbikes had at least given you a fair bit of familiarity with bikes and the general ‘biker culture’, but it was mostly the fact that almost all the ‘biker girls’ you saw posing on social media were slim and toned, which you were decidedly not.

From the utterly foetid takes in the comments section of the one post your brother had shared on his page with you in it, you’d also got the impression that the biker community was not particularly kind to any woman with a waist over 25 inches. It probably wasn’t the case, but your one experience with it had been enough to make you very wary.

And yet, as you made your way towards the bike shop’s counter and the older man with floppy, greying hair and warm brown eyes looked up, you were greeted with an open, welcoming smile.

“Hi there,” he said, standing up with a grunt from the comfy chair where he’d been sitting in the corner near the shop’s antique cash register. “What can I do for you?”

You smiled shyly and glanced along the wooden countertop before returning your gaze to him. “I’m looking for a present for my brother, but I’m kind of on a budget…”

“Gotcha. We’ve got some silly key fobs there,” he said, indicating a rotating display rack at one end of the counter, with mottoes that ranged from funny to explicit, “But if they like working on their bike themselves, you can’t go wrong with some maintenance supplies… Not the most glamorous but I promise they’ll be grateful to you all the same.”

“Could always tie a festive ribbon round it,” you said, and he chuckled and nodded.

“That’s the spirit.”

You eyed the reasonable price of the fobs with some relief, and then followed his gesture towards the various bottles of chain degreaser and the like, and a few other useful tools and kits that were stacked on shelves on the back wall to the right of a door that presumably led into the back and store rooms.

The right hand side of the shop had the counter and some shiny, new bikes that had been parked in a row around the perimeter of the space, and the left hand side was more open with a bench or two against the brick walls, and some red, mechanics’ tool-chests tucked against the back wall. A number of leather two- and one-piece suits hung in racks at the furthest end though, with helmets on shelves and a few rows of t-shirts, jeans, gloves, and boots displayed too. There were oil stains in the centre of the polished concrete floor, and you suspected that tinkering took place there outside of the shop’s usual opening hours.

The whole vibe of Full Moon Motorcycles was friendly and cosy, with a slightly industrial, grungy note for some flavour.

In short, you loved it.

“There are also some fun helmet covers –” the older man chuckled, and added, “A number of the regulars here have them, and there are also some earplugs, or perhaps a tough phone case and mount? A chain care kit? There are some vinyl stickers too, and t-shirts, socks, neck warmers, balaclavas, mugs, helmet care kits, thermals…”

Laughing, you held up your hands for him to stop, and he started to chuckle too.

“I’ll let you browse in peace, sweetheart,” he said, his whisky brown eyes twinkling. Even his un-looked-for endearment came across as kindly instead of creepy, and not many men could pull that off. “You just holler if you have questions and I’ll be happy to –”

The door opened behind you and he broke off as his attention was snagged by the arrival of a heavy-set guy in dark jeans and a softly-worn, black leather jacket. He held a black helmet with a tinted visor in his large hands, and he looked more than a little wind-blown and rumpled.

Incongruous with his rather roguish-dishevelment, a lock of his long, thick, slightly grizzled, black hair was held back by a little hair-clip with a Barbie-pink, fabric bow. It didn’t fit with the dark scruff of stubble on his jaw or the piercing green-blue eyes at all, but he seemed completely unfazed by its presence.

“Oats!” the older man exclaimed with obvious joy, clapping his hands. “It’s been a while, my boy! How was the trip to Scotland? You make it round the NC500 this time?”

The ‘boy’ looked to be in his mid to late thirties…

“Ach, no’ a chance this time, Hank,” the man chuckled with a heavy, Scottish accent lacing his rich, rough baritone. Exactly where in Scotland he was from, you couldn’t tell, but it was lyrical and attractive all the same.

“Ah, next time, next time. And is Natalie well?

“Oh aye, my wee Loch Ness Monster is doing just fine. She’ll be terrorising her mother for the Christmas holidays. I came straight from the road though — clutch started playing up just south of Birmingham.” He grimaced, but even that looked charming somehow. “Sort of hoped you might find a minute to take a look at it for me if I left the Old Girl here. No rush though.”

“No problem, Oats. We’ll get her running properly again in no time. Bet you’re missing little Natalie already,” Hank added sympathetically.

“Ah, you have no idea,” the man, peculiarly-named ‘Oats’, sighed ruefully, shaking his head.

“See she left you with a parting gift though,” Hank snorted, pointing at the bow hair clip.

With a slight frown to his dark eyebrows, Oats reached up and patted at his head until he found it, and then he laughed. It was a loud, delighted, full-bellied sound that reverberated through the space while it lasted, and he left the hair clip where it was with no trace of self-consciousness as he lowered his hand again. “Aye, that she did. Surprised it survived the journey down with my lid on and everything. Oh –” His unusually pale green eyes landed on you, watching him and lurking near the rows of t-shirts on the back wall, and he went still.

Those sea-grey eyes raked you up and down, clearly noting the way your black leggings clung to the curves of your thighs and hips, and the black hoodie, which maybe went some way to hiding the softness of your stomach a bit, and he swallowed visibly. He looked… hungry. That was not the usual reaction you had grown accustomed to from men, and you let the flare of heat lick up your insides for just a moment, daring to hope that maybe he did find you attractive.

“Sorry,” he said in your direction, with a soft, dusky smile. “Didnae mean t’interrupt.”

“It’s fine,” you managed to croak back at him before returning your attention, however reluctantly, to present options for your brother while the older man, Hank, hobbled out around the corner of the wooden counter to chat amicably with the man. You couldn’t hear what was said as the two chatted in lower voices, but it was evident that they were good friends. While they talked, however, you couldn’t help noticing that he stole occasional sidelong glances in your direction, and you felt your face warm pleasantly.

‘Oats’ was certainly an unusual nickname, but then again, almost everyone who rode with your brother also had their own nicknames for one reason or another. As you browsed, you wondered what Oats had done to earn that one. He certainly looked like a snack to you, but you vowed not to let your attraction to the stranger show. Awkward situations (or worse, silences) tended to arise when you let that happen.

He had a tanned, outdoorsy complexion, and longish, black hair that was tied back in a low ponytail that brushed below the collar of his black leather jacket. It looked like it had a tendency to flop into his face when not restrained by that out-of-place pink bow. He filled out the jacket very well, and clearly had a soft paunch, and his thighs looked frankly delectable in those thick, indigo jeans. You prayed you wouldn’t have to see him fully from the back if he turned around, to witness the way he filled out the seat of his jeans too.

Fuck. Concentrate.

Bike gifts for brother, not delicious-looking stranger you’re never going to see again.

“Well, I shouldnae hang about, I suppose.”

Oats’ voice cut through your musings in front of chain degreasers and you jumped a little. Glancing back over at him, you offered him a smile when he too turned to look at you one last time, and a slow, charming smile crept onto his handsome face.

“See you,” he said with a dip of his head. Before he strode from the shop though, he let his eyes roam once more down the length of you and he bit his lower lip, almost regretfully, then turned away abruptly.

Oh yes. He absolutely did fill out the ass of those jeans beautifully.

Quite honestly, you weren’t totally sure what you ended up getting your brother for his birthday. You took whatever it was to the counter in a daze, your mind replaying over and over the way he’d looked at you.

“Must say,” Hank said conspiratorially as he fished your change from the antique cash register and slid it across the polished, wooden counter towards you. “I’ve never seen Oats quite so taken with someone, miss.” He chuckled, his kind, whisky-brown eyes glinting. “You take care now.”

Swallowing, you nodded and left the shop, hoping perhaps to find Oats waiting for you outside on the street, leaning against his motorcycle, but life was not a movie, and wherever he was, he was not lingering in the hopes of seeing you. In fact, the street was completely deserted, so you crossed, clambered into your little hatchback, and drove home with the feeling that you’d let a pivotal moment in your life pass you by.

Your sour mood persisted like a raincloud for the whole week, but by the time you were driving over to your brother’s on Saturday for his birthday ride, you were trying to pull yourself out of it. You had your own helmet with you, secured in the back of the car, and beside it was (now wrapped) the present you’d got him. In fact, it was a chain care kit, and, although you hadn’t noticed at the time, Hank had thrown in a free keychain that said ‘In my defence, I was left unsupervised’ which was very on-brand for your brother. You had planned to go back and thank him for the freebie as soon as you could, but your brother’s birthday ride had been planned for that Saturday, and work had been hell that week, so you’d not had the chance.

Predictably, Alex wasn’t in the house when you rang the doorbell, so you followed the sound of metallic clinking and laughter, and went round the side to find him tinkering with his mad little Honda Grom in the garage, while his two best mates — Eggs and Sparky — were lounging around and either making unhelpful suggestions or lewd comments.

“Yo!” Sparky grinned when he saw you, sitting up straighter and almost falling off the mechanic’s tool chest he was leaning his weight against. At Sparky’s exclamation, your brother sat up and banged his head on the handlebars of the short little Grom with a curse.

“Hey,” you mumbled in Sparky’s general direction. “Happy birthday, Alex.”

Alex scrambled upright and came over to hug you, probably smearing grease and dirt all over your armoured jacket, but since it was black anyway, you didn’t mind too much. Alex was about as opposite to you as it was possible to get — straight up and down like a beanpole, and tall. You took after your mother, inheriting all her thick curves and soft edges. Soft heart too.

“Thought this might come in handy,” you mumbled when Alex released you and you held out the brown paper bag stamped with the logo of Full Moon Motorcycles.

His eyes lit up when he saw the logo, and he tore into it like a chipmunk after a peanut, grinning in delight when he’d dismembered it, and in particular he showed off the keychain to his mates. Eggs snatched it and tried to claim it for himself, but Alex was having none of it, and the three of them scrapped and goofed around while you sat down on an old, metal stool in the corner and waited for the other two of your small party to show up, with a cool, curdling kind of dread in the pit of your stomach when you heard one name in particular. Nooner.

Within an hour though, you were all out on the road.

You took the pillion seat behind Alex, and warded his mates off at red lights when they came for his killswitch to immobilise him. A while later though, Alex zoomed off down the open road that would take you all out of town and towards the somewhat famous biker cafe, ‘Elusive Neutral’, that sat nestled amongst the fragrant heather of the rolling hills surrounding the old market town.

The sky was a gorgeous, autumnal blue and the weather was perfect, neither too hot nor too cold, and as your brother’s Yamaha flew along the winding A-road that was every biker’s dream, you cracked a smile and gently tipped your head back. As much as it had scared you when you’d first ridden behind your mother all those years ago, you did love the feeling of being out on a bike. Not that you were actually brave enough to want to try and learn yourself though. Something always held you back, made you wary and unsure, and then you inevitably felt down about that too. God, you wished you had Alex’s wild confidence.

Nothing good ever seemed to last for you though, and when Alex’s R1 had purred into the car park behind Eggs and Sparky, and you’d hopped off to let him reverse more easily into a space, you caught the conversation drifting over from the other guys who’d arrived just ahead of you.

“…if he didn’t have his fat sister with him, we could have fucking ripped it up along those twisties.” That, of course, had come from Nooner, named for the fact that he rarely stuck to two wheels and always pulled wheelies, or ‘nones’, whenever he got the chance. Out of all of your brother’s friends, he was the one you liked the least, for… obvious reasons.

“Talk about killing the vibes, huh?” Eggs replied, trying to suck up to him, as ever. “More like ‘crushing’!”

The reason Eggs had earned his nickname was that he’d lost a bet and shaved his head when they’d all been about sixteen, and he’d looked like a boiled egg til it grew back. You wished you had the sass to remind him of that every time his spine seemed to crumble in favour of earning a half-hearted snicker out of Nooner.

When Alex joined you, he caught the crestfallen expression on your face and frowned, but you shook your head and walked away from them, heading for the cafe alone.

“Can’t wait to shove some cake in her fat gob already,” Nooner added as an aside to Eggs, and your vision blurred as tears welled along your lashes. Why did people have to be so cruel? To trample all over someone else just to feel a little taller themselves?

You vaguely heard what sounded like Sparky’s voice countering the comment, but you didn't stick around either way. If you mentioned it to your brother again, he’d just say it was banter with the guys and not to take it to heart. Easy for someone who's never been on the end of that kind of comment to shrug it off, after all.

You ducked straight for the toilets when you got inside the airy, modern cafe, not even bothering to look around or find a table first.

After some deep breaths and a check in the mirror to see that you hadn’t turned your eyeliner into a panda cosplay, you headed out again and made for the little bar that doubled as a counter for people who were there solo to sit and eat instead of taking up a whole table to themselves. None of your brother’s friends joined you, and when you glanced back over your shoulder, you saw that they’d settled themselves around a table in the far corner and already had a number for a server to bring their food order over. They hadn’t even waited for you.

“Fuck them,” you hissed through gritted teeth, taking a seat at the bar instead. The stools were made of old tractor seats, and they were surprisingly comfortable, and as you leaned your forearms on the countertop, the young woman behind the counter came over to you with a smile that made you feel a little better.

“Hey,” she said. “What can I get for you?”

You ordered a hot drink, and then took out your phone while you waited for her to make it for you.

For half an hour or so, you sat scrolling through social media and sipping your drink and telling yourself this was your brother’s day and not yours. He did come over a couple of times, but you declined to sit with his friends, and because he’d never had any real reason to doubt you before, he took you at your word when you told him you were happy enough where you were. “I don’t want to get in the way,” you said, and he believed you.

Patting you on the shoulder, he left you for the third time, and you looked down into the dregs of your drink with a heavy sigh. “This sucks.”

Outside, the sound of more bikes arriving made your ears perk up, and you wondered idly what they rode. Elusive Neutral had once been an old cattle barn, but it had been completely redone and the walls on two sides had been replaced with vast picture windows that showed the sweeping expanse of moorland beyond, and a small sliver of the car park at one end. Craning your neck, you saw a group of maybe five or six bikers draw up, some on hipster looking cafe racers and others on racy sports bikes. There was even a Ducati Panigale among them, and behind them followed an old, battered, blue pickup truck.

The door opened a little while later, and you glanced over, eyes drawn instinctively by the movement.

Above the general chatter and merry chinking of china in the room, the energy of the new group of bikers rose like a cloud of dizzy mayflies; buzzing and excited and full of joy. You watched them all with interest from your perch at the counter.

The first through the door was an absolute Amazon of a woman, with her long black hair restrained in a thick braid, and shoulders the width of a barn door. She was lean and tall, and in her biker gear she looked… incredible. Her face was strikingly handsome, but until she glanced down at the woman walking beside her, her features were hard and glowering and unspeakably stern. She held the door open for one of the others to follow her inside, but when she locked eyes again with the brunette by her side, her whole expression melted into unguarded adoration. Your gut twisted briefly with jealousy.

It wouldn’t matter to you who looked at you like that, if only someone would.

You looked away, and by the time you glanced back at the bikers, the whole group had filed in from outside. There was a guy with golden-brown skin and beautiful dark brown eyes who had his arm wrapped possessively around the waist of a pale, skinny guy in black jeans and a moth-eaten, black jumper, with his long hair tied back in a bun, and behind them came a strikingly attractive guy in a manual wheelchair, flanked by a very short biker with slightly anaemic looking skin. You wondered fleetingly if the guy in the wheelchair had ridden a motorbike there, and if so how, before you realised he was probably the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, with long, flowing red hair and dark green eyes, and the kind of mouth that was made for laughing, and for kissing.

Jesus, was it an unwritten rule of being a biker that you had to be unfairly attractive? Even Hank, who you recognised with a start of surprise coming in behind the guy with red hair, wasn’t unattractive, in a bulky, older man kind of way.

The guy walking with him though… he truly made your stomach swoop.

It was Oats.

You looked away before he could spot you, sitting alone at the bar like some pathetic creature waiting for cocktail hour to begin. It was lunchtime on a sunny, autumnal Saturday though, and there you were sitting alone because you didn’t fancy sitting with your brother’s loser mates.

God, the way Oats had looked in his tough-looking leather jacket, with his eyes crinkled mid-laugh at something the guy in the wheelchair had shot back at them over his shoulder… You bit your lip and stared into the bottom of your cold, empty mug like it would divine some kind of solution to your situation for you.

The new group didn’t seem to notice you while they filed up to the counter, jostling and joking, and when they drifted off to another corner of the cafe, you turned back to your phone, trying desperately to resist the almost overwhelming urge to keep turning over your shoulder to watch them.

Before too long however, you startled at a soft tap on your shoulder, and you looked around to find Oats himself stepping back to a polite distance and smiling down at you like he’d found a treasure in an unexpected place.

“Hey there,” he said in that rolling, Scottish accent that did unspeakably indecent things to your insides. “Sorry if I’m intruding, but you were at Full Moon last week, right?”

Mute for a moment, you nodded, and mustered up a slightly dazed smile for him.

“You… here alone?” he asked, eyeing the currently-empty seats to your left and right. In fact, someone had only just gathered up their belongings and left.

“Kind of?” you croaked, letting your eyes slide over to the table where your brother and his friends were hunched over one of their phones, snickering at something. “It’s… It’s my brother’s birthday today. I… tagged along as pillion, but… you know… I’m kind of a spare part really.”

At that, Oats’ dark eyebrows knitted into a scowl and he looked across the room at them before returning his attention to you. Then, his unearthly, almost prismatic, silver-green eyes took in your empty cup and he grinned. “Can I get y’a top up?”

Your instinct was to refuse, but you bit your lip. This didn’t feel real. A cute, handsome, courteous guy was actually taking an interest in you.

“Sure. Thank you.” And the smile that spread itself across your face telegraphed your delight in a way that was impossible to disguise with any kind of suave grace.

Oats, however, seemed equally delighted, and nodded. The barista came back over and he leaned his weight on the counter to talk to her. He seemed to have that enviably easy manner with everybody, and he even charmed a free slice of cake out of her too with what felt like no effort at all.

“Chocolate? Or something else?” he asked you.

“Pardon?”

“Cake.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine,” you said, but he frowned.

“You sure? I’m gonna have a bit of their chocolate cake. It’s so good, it’s practically a sin.”

“I…” you faltered.

He didn’t pressure you though and shrugged easily, turning back to the barista. “Gimme two forks with that, love. Just in case.”

“No problem,” she beamed back while she bustled about, and Oats eyed the empty bar stool next to yours.

“May I?”

You swallowed your nerves and nodded. “Please.” And then, because apparently a demon of confidence had temporarily possessed you, you eyed his slightly helmet-flattened forelock and said, “No pink hair clips today?”

He guffawed loudly enough that your brother actually glanced over and frowned when he saw you talking with a stranger.

Oats snorted and shook his head. “No, not today. My daughter is still up in Scotland with her mother.” He fixed you with a more serious look and said, “She and I divorced, before you get the wrong idea about me flirting like this with a beautiful woman.”

The compliment caught you so off-guard that you just froze for a moment, but when the heat of a blush filled your face, you looked away and he chuckled.

“I’m not normally so forward, but I’ve been kicking myself for not talking to you when I first saw you in Full Moon. Hank was telling me just this morning what a muppet I’d made of myself for walking away like that.”

You looked behind you at the group of his friends and then turned back to him. “Won’t they think you’re being rude, ignoring them like this?”

He shook his head and smiled. “They’re probably all taking bets on how quickly you’ll shoot me down.”

“What? I’d have to be an idiot to do that.”

At that, his face split into a huge, handsome grin and he shook his head just a little. “Lucky me,” he said. “You ride?” he added, eyeing your jacket that was obviously a motorcycle jacket.

You shrugged. “Pillion. I’ve never ridden myself, but my brother lets me come out with him sometimes.”

Oats nodded, and then, as the barista set down his coffee, your top-up, and the plate of decadent chocolate cake with two forks, he said, “I’m Euan, by the way, but everyone calls me Oats.”

You introduced yourself, and then said, “Oats?”

He snorted and nodded. “Not the worst nickname, for sure.”

“Can I ask where it came from?”

Oats nodded and shunted the plate towards you first before leaning his elbow on the bar and watching you while he spoke. “I think it’s because I’m a dad, but I’m always prepared for most situations, and when it comes to my Natalie, she’s always hungry. I’ve usually got about a thousand granola bars stashed away about my person —” he said, cutting himself off to pat conspicuously at his jacket pockets. Pulling a slightly dog-eared crunchy bar from his breast pocket, he wielded it like a magic wand at you and said, “Case in point.”

“Hence, Oats,” you said, eyeing the healthy brand name on the packet.

“Exactly. Like I said, it could be worse. See the tall lass over there with the dangerous scowl?”

You didn't need to turn around to know which of his friends he was talking about, but you did anyway. “Yeah.”

“We call her Pixie.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not,” he chuckled, stowing the granola bar back into his pocket and taking a huge scoop of the chocolate cake with his own fork.

“What do you ride then?” you asked.

“Triumph Bonneville T120,” he said with almost exactly the same intonation and fondness as he’d just said ‘because I’m a dad’, and you couldn’t help smiling. “Can’t be doing with all these glitzy sports bikes and the like,” he added with a laugh, setting his fork down and blinking slowly. His lashes, you noticed, were thick and dark and enticingly long.

Laughing, you smiled. “Don’t say that too loudly — my brother rides an R1.”

“Nice,” Oats grinned back. “But nothing could entice me away from my girl.”

“I’m surprised you’re here, flirting with me then,” you said. Evidently that confidence demon was still lurking.

Again, Oats laughed, though it was more of a low whicker this time, and it rolled right through you and lit you up all over. God, how long had it been since someone had laughed like that for you?

“There are… exceptions,” he said in a rumbling murmur. “Tell me about yourself?” he asked, and you did.

You spent the next hour at least talking in an easy back and forth with him while he charmed a few more refills from the barista and a lot of answers out of you, before one of his friends sidled up shyly and waited for a lull in your conversation.

“Sorry to butt in,” the small, unbelievably beautiful woman said. She was the one who’d been on the receiving end of the adoring look from the Amazon, ‘Pixie’. She had chocolate-brown hair falling in thick ringlets around a gorgeous face, and, you were pleased to note, she had wide hips and a softness to her that a lot of the biker chicks you’d seen online didn’t have.

“Coco,” Oats beamed. “Meet my new friend.” He introduced you by name, and Coco smiled at you, holding out her hand.

When your palms connected, you felt a warmth rush through you and you felt like your heart skipped a beat. The feeling like you could tip forwards and drown in her endless, dark brown eyes almost unseated you, but she let go of you and stepped back with a pretty smile on her Cupid’s-bow lips. “Pleasure to meet you. Just wanted to tell Oats that we’re thinking of heading off soon. Ariel has a photoshoot he wants to get to in an hour or so, and Demon’s keen to get going as well.”

Oats nodded, and you tried not to let your stomach drop down to your boots at the thought of all this coming to such an abrupt end.

Coco turned her head sharply to look at you just as the feeling hit, and she smiled faintly. “You could always stay here though, Oats,” she added with a pretty smile. “We’re only going back to Full Moon, and Demon clearly has no intention of lingering there…” She shot a meaningful glance back at their table. Demon, the guy with dark hair and tanned skin, was seated with the guy he’d entered with now draped in his lap, his skinny legs dangling as he sprawled languidly back against the guy’s muscular chest. Demon whispered something into his ear before he clearly bit the shell of his boyfriend’s ear, which made him sit abruptly upright and flush a vibrant pink.

Oats laughed again and shook his head. “Fuck me,” he chuckled privately. “Never thought I’d see the day. You guys go on. I’m… I’m very much content here.”

“I can see that,” Coco smirked, and walked away.

When she was out of earshot, you turned to Oats with a hot flush of your own in your face and said, “Don’t stay if you don’t want to… I’m sure my brother will be leaving soon anyway…”

Just as you said that, and before Oats could reply, Alex reappeared at your side and jutted his chin in Oats’ direction. “You good?” he chirped at you.

“Fine,” you replied. “This is Oats. I met him at Full Moon Motorcycles when I was buying your birthday present.”

“Oh,” Alex replied, holding out his hand for Oats to shake. “Good to meet you, man. You tell her what to get for me? If you did, it was a good choice.”

“No,” Oats said carefully, his grey-green eyes sliding back to your face even while he shook your brother’s hand amicably. “No, whatever she got you, it was all her.”

“Oh, cool,” Alex said. “Listen, sis, we’re gonna hit the road in a while. Nooner and Eggs want to hit the twisties for a bit, but I can’t really do that with a backpack, so Sparky said he’d give you a ride home, if that’s ok.”

You swallowed. “Um…”

“I can give her a lift,” Oats replied after a swift glance in your direction. “She’s already got her own lid, and there’s room on the Bobber’s double seat for both of us.”

“I don’t know, man,” Alex said with a wary frown.

“Your choice,” Oats shrugged easily, looking at you and holding his hands up just a little.

For a fleeting moment, you weren’t sure, but the idea of wrapping your arms around Oats’ thick middle and sitting astride his gorgeous bike kind of decided it for you. Besides, it was a long time since you’d done anything truly just for yourself; simply because you wanted to. You nodded at your brother. “It’s fine. You go ahead.”

“You sure?”

Nodding to reassure him, you smiled again and Alex backed up a pace. “Cool. Text me later, ok?” he said as he retreated towards his friends, clearly trying to hide his excitement at not having a passenger for the great, twisting section of A-road they were heading for.

“Will do. Have fun, and don’t crash!” you called after him. “Or get a speeding ticket!”

He waved a hand over one shoulder without looking back, and you laughed and returned your attention to Oats. “Brothers.”

“Bikers,” he replied. “You try telling that to any of that lot though —” he gestured towards his own group of friends who were now filtering out of the door. “You ready to head out too or do you want to stay?”

You did want to stay, but the seat wasn’t that comfortable anymore, and you wanted to move around a bit. “No, I’m good to go,” you said and prepared to slide off the stool, but Oats stepped down first and held out his hand to you. You didn't need helping down, and his playful little smirk told you he knew as much, so you rode out the last of that demonic possession and let your fingers slide across his palm and he steadied you off the stool.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Pleasure.”

You picked up your helmet from where you’d stowed it on the floor at your feet and straightened to find him waving casually across the room to the good-looking guy with the ethereally pretty boyfriend. Before he stepped away from you and made towards the door though, you cleared your throat and said, “Oats?”

“Mn?” Looking down at you, his entire attention honed in on you, like you were the centre of the universe, and you swallowed back a sudden welling of emotion.

“Listen… Thank you… for… coming over to me today. Like I said, it’s my brother’s birthday, and he was here with his friends, and he only included me so I didn’t feel completely left out, but…” Accursed tears washed over your eyes for a moment but you blinked them away furiously and ploughed on regardless. “I’m really glad I came along today anyway,” you finished rather pathetically.

His full, beautiful lips curled into a gentle smile and he blinked softly and exhaled. When he spoke, his voice was low and his words private, as though you weren’t standing in a busy cafe surrounded by people and the cheerful clatter of coffee cups and laughter. “I’m really glad I did too. I wasn’t going to, you know? I was going to stay at home and edit a boatload of raw photographs for a client, but Demon convinced me to come out. I guess I owe him.”

“‘Demon’? For… For the speed?” you asked, wondering how he came by his nickname.

“For the horns,” Oats replied in deadpan humour. “Have a look if he’s still there when we go outside. You ready?”

You followed him out of the cafe with a nod, and just as you took a deep, indulgent breath of fresh, heathland air, Oats’ group of friends filed out past you on their bikes. The one named Demon was in the lead, and the nickname made immediate sense. Sitting astride a blood-red Panigale, with his boyfriend clinging on behind him like a limpet, the guy had pale, curving horns fixed to the crown of his helmet.

“Yeah, that tracks,” you said, and Oats waggled his dark eyebrows.

The Amazon had a Yamaha R1 like your brother’s, but hers had a pearl-white wrap that made it look almost spectral, and riding out in front of her was Coco on a yellow and black Honda Hornet.

The telltale red plait told you that the guy in the wheelchair was on a modified Kawasaki, with unusual struts at the back that looked like they would come down when he stopped to stabilise him instead of having to take his legs off the foot pegs, where they were currently Velcro-ed in place. Watching the whole group file out was Hank, standing beside a battered old pickup. In the bed of the truck, you could just see that the red-headed biker’s wheelchair secured in place.

Hank waved the last of them off, then glanced over at Oats. The older man lifted his nose just a little, as if he too was enjoying the fresh, moorland wind that whipped across the car park, and he nodded once at Oats, and then at you to your surprise, before clambering stiffly up into his pickup and closing the door. It shut with a raucous yelp of rusty hinges.

You stood there and watched Oats’ friends all file out, all waving at Oats as they passed, before they set off down the road in a roar of revving engines to leave a lonely looking Bonneville waiting patiently near the stone wall of the car park nearby.

“Yours, I presume?” you said, nodding at it.

“Yup.”

“She’s a beauty,” you mumbled, self-consciousness prickling at the sides of your neck for the silly comment.

Oats beamed though, his sea-foam eyes lighting up as the crinkles around his eyes and the slight dimples in his cheeks creased under the force of his obvious pleasure. “Thank you. She’s my pride and joy. You ready? Oh, wait, you should put your address into my phone before we get going,” he laughed.

You nodded, taking the offered phone from him. Your fingers brushed against his warm skin as you took it, and a tiny thrill passed through you that you did your best to quash. With your address plugged in and a route home waiting to be followed, you handed it back to him and looked up into his handsome, rugged face as he smiled.

“Cheers. Let’s go,” he said, and you trailed along beside him over to his bike, heartbeat thudding in your ears with your nerves.

He swung a leg over and turned the key, then pushed the bike upright and nudged the side-stand in with his left foot before flicking the switch and bringing the bike to life. She growled beautifully, the low, thundering rumble of her engine sounding far more visceral and primal than your brother’s sports bike did. Perhaps it was the design of the lower-slung Bonneville, with its visible parts that made you think of a Steampunk aesthetic, but you instantly preferred it. Plus, the double seat looked way more cushioned — and less precarious — than the one you’d perched on to get to the cafe that morning.

Oats got himself comfy while you slid your helmet on, then he looked over his shoulder at you and nodded, so you took that as your cue and got settled on the pillion seat behind him. The footpegs were already down. The pulsing purr of the machine beneath you was almost enough to distract you from the fact that you were entrusting your life to a relative stranger, whom you’d never seen ride before, and as you climbed on and rested your hands politely on his shoulders, you felt a shiver travel through your whole nervous system.

“Do whatever’s comfortable for you, obviously,” Oats said over the noise of his bike, “But if you want to hold my waist — if you can actually get your arms around my middle, that is,” he chuckled self-effacingly, “— feel free. Totally up to you.”

“Thanks,” you yelled back, and, because apparently that pesky demon of confidence was still kicking around, you hugged his torso.

It was wonderful.

Slowly snaking your arms around his middle, you felt your chest press against his back and you caught the way he inhaled slowly and tried not to wonder what it meant. It felt so good to hold him that you had to remind yourself it wasn’t a hug. It was to keep you in place while a gorgeous stranger drove you home on his equally gorgeous bike. With a final thumbs-up to check you were happy, to which you replied with a nod of your head and tried not to clack your helmet against his, he pulled away and your heart leapt for the sheer joy of it.

Where the R1 was built for sleek speed and bursts of power, the Bonneville was build to be enjoyed, and oh gosh, did you enjoy every curve.

And not just the curves in the road, either.

Oats was soft, but he was solid, and the urge to rest one hand on his thick thigh was almost overwhelming, until he took the corners at just the right pace to be exhilarating without you having to worry about your safety, and you clung on instead and laughed behind the safety of your visor.

It was all over way too soon, and as the Bonneville chugged into your road like a steam train and halted outside your poky, terraced house with its quaint little kitchen garden out the front in the postage-stamp of space between the pavement and the house, your heart squeezed painfully in your chest. Please don’t let this be it, you thought desperately.

You went through the motions of getting carefully off the bike without staggering or falling, and again, Oats held out his hand to help steady you. You gripped his fingers gratefully and when you gave an extra little squeeze to his hand at the end, you could have sworn he answered with one of his own and a throaty chuckle.

He dismounted too, which surprised you, and you wondered if you were going to have to ask him inside. As much as you wanted that in principle, you desperately didn’t want it to happen today because the house was a mess: laundry was still hanging up all over the place, and you’d cooked a curry the previous night and it was definitely still lingering in the air.

Oats took off his helmet but left his bike idling, which went a little way to reassuring you, and when you looked more closely at his expression, you thought you saw a hint of something familiar lingering in the corners of his eyes. Was he nervous?

Swallowing thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing behind the thick, 5 o’clock shadow that looked like it lingered pretty constantly no matter the time of day, Oats took a deep breath, held it, and then smiled at you. “Fuck,” he exhaled, and laughed. “I’m… very rusty at all this.” He held his helmet in both hands before him, toying with the strap.

“If I gave you my number, would you maybe like to meet up again?” you asked, taking pity on the man.

“Very much,” he said softly. “Like I said, Natalie is with her mum for the holidays, and apart from a wedding I’m covering next week, this is a pretty slow time of year for me. I’m free… mostly whenever.”

The reminder that he had a daughter with someone else did make you wonder what you were letting yourself in for. Children weren’t really something you had any expense of, since neither you nor your brother had shown any parental inclinations yet, and you weren’t particularly close to your cousins who had small kids.

“Ok, let me give you my number and we can figure something out.”

That done, he slid his phone back into his pocket and zipped it up, biting gently at his lower lip for a moment. “I know it’s bold,” he said, “But may I kiss you?”

Your heart skipped and soared. Breathless, you looked up at him and whispered, “Yes.”

His tiny, gentle, lopsided smile heralded the kiss’ approach, and he took your jaw delicately in one, leather-gloved hand as he leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. They were soft but insistent against yours, and you answered with a little moan as your eyes fluttered shut.

He groaned, pulling you closer with a low growl so that you were pressed flush against him for a moment before he stepped back and exhaled roughly. “Fuck,” he breathed. “Thank you. I’ll… I’ll see you soon?”

You nodded, feeling like you were floating inches above the ground.

You watched him re-mount his bike and adjust himself a little once he was settled, then he revved it playfully for you, and rode away after a final look back at you. He flipped his visor down as he pulled away, and you watched the bike and its rider disappear down the road.

‘Soon’ couldn’t come soon enough…

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mggsv · 1 year

Text

Diner Boy

m!reader x dean winchester (18+)

summary: he’s a regular, comes often but there’s never really a pattern. he sits with his brother, Sam, you learned. sometimes they’re smiling and having a good time, other times they look like they’ve just fought, but no matter what- they always sit together, and today you’ve caught his eye- Dean.

warnings: car sex, hair pulling, overstimulation

“He’s staring at you…” Your work friend, Charlie, had said. You were standing at the counter sorting the tickets. It wasn’t a busy day, but it wasn’t slow either. It kept you both working, with plenty time to talk. You gave her a small look before scoffing, “You say this almost everyday Char.”

“Well yes, but, Sam and Dean don’t come here everyday.” You catch her eye as she motioned over to the table she just came from not too long ago. “You are very pretty..you get mistaken for a girl often-“

“I don’t want to talk about that. And besides,” you pick up a tray of food, fit for another table, “I’m sure they’re staring at you, you just like girls and don’t take interest.” You give her a wink while she starts to giggle.

It was true, though. He was staring at you. Your beautiful frame, your curly hair fanning around your face, your perfect lips that pulled into a smile whenever you interacted with the tables to catered to for the night. Dean was watching, and you felt his gaze.

You could hardly work. His eyes made your legs week, and your pants tight. You felt hot but there was no sweat. Your hands shook while taking orders. You knew what you wanted, what your body screamed at you to take before the chance of a lifetime slipped away.

Your shift ended roughly at 10. You’re tired, body aching. You take off your apron before saying your goodbye’s to your coworkers. Charlie had left an hour before. It was raining outside, it made you groan. As much as you loved the rain, you walked to work, and walking in the rain meant an umbrella you didn’t have. “Need a lift?” you hear a voice behind you, a familiar one at that, his voice. Dean. You hear yourself chuckle, turning around to look at his tall frame. “No.”

“No? It’s raining like hell out here and you have no umbrella, and you say “no”?” He’s leaning against the glass frame of the wall. He bore a small grin, but those eyes..those eyes said so much more. You felt it. They trailed your body down to your hips, and rested before making their way back up to your eyes.

“Yeah.” you cleared your throat. “And if you’re done..” you look away, staring at the rain pour harder. The droplets beginning to splash against your legs and his boots. Dean moves closer, the soft clack of his shoes perfectly in sync with the rain. Where was Sam, you had wondered. “Do you..need a ride?” He asked again, lowly, fit only for you.

“…yes.”

the walk back to Dean’s beautiful car felt like forever. He shielded you from the rain, his brown leather jacket over your frame. His arm wrapped around your shoulder securely like you were the most precious thing in the world at that moment, protected..

“ha….ha fuck.” Your hand was lost into his short locs of hair, gripping on what you could. You breathed heavily into the small space of Baby’s backseat, suffocated. Dean held your waist, cock disappearing into your hole for what seemed like the hundredth time this night. His teeth sank into his bottom lip, sweaty forehead rested against your shoulder. “Dean..” you moan.

He shuddered, bottoming out inside of you. Your cock leaked against his stomach. You were so closed it rubbed just up against it in the right of ways. Your breathes came to a shuddering halt. Your heart seemed to drop into your stomach, and a clean wash fell over you. Your hands found their way to Deans shoulder, squeezing as you rode out another orgasm, your seed shooting lazily across you and Dean’s stomach. “You feel so good baby..” He groans. His hands tightened the grip onto your waist. While your body relaxed against his own, he sped up. Your body moved quickly against Dean’s thick cock. “So fuckin’ good.”

Your body rolled against his. Your legs felt tight, you tried your best but your body shook to its core. “Dean-“ You gasp, nails digging into his shoulder. He hit that spot inside of you so well…You couldn’t help the helpless whimper falling from your lips. “Almost there.” Dean grunts, failing to notice Sam’s name flash across his buzzing phone.

#dean winchester #male reader #supernatural #sam winchester #winchester #dean x reader #dean x castiel #dean winchester x male reader #m reader #dean winchester supernatural #m!reader #male #dean winchester smut #castiel #lgbt #dean #baby supernatural #sam #sam and dean

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bigfan-fanfic · 5 months

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Got A Problem With That? (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)

@innerpiratefun Can you make a part 2 of Dean Winchester x Male Reader he's a mechanic in California, it's my favorite fic also could you include a part where Sam realizes the collar and says something to dean but dean doesn't take it off or something like that, btw love your fics

Here's PART 1

"He's good at that stuff. Maybe better than you." Dean smirks at his little brother.

Sam scoffs. Skeptical.

Dean chuckles, turning up the music.

They've left you back at the motel - there's no way you're letting Dean travel off alone for this journey, but you're also not skilled in monster hunting, so you've made yourself useful through research.

You're currently compiling a little database on monsters through research and the brothers' anecdotes.

You're not very happy about being dragged into a search for John Winchester, but you want to support Dean, who seems to have genuinely missed his brother.

Besides, apparently Sam tried to leave, but was driven into a deeper need for vengeance when his girlfriend was killed in the same way as their mom.

"You're pretty, ah, serious with him, yeah?" Sam asks again. In the two weeks since you started traveling together, Sam has asked this quite a few times.

"Yeah." Dean responds shortly - as he has each time. He knows their dad might be weird about it. Knows he and Sam weren't exactly raised to even know about sexuality besides heterosexuality.

They both know things, but it's still... awkward to see each other after so long and have to share that.

Dean's been wearing a leather jacket and many layers - trying a little harder not to let his collar show.

It's technically just a necklace, but it serves the same purpose.

You have a thicker leather one for play, but for just wearing, it's a black chain of twisted links attached to a black circle. It's not particularly noticeable, but it is distinctive.

"So... what's this?" Sam asks, reaching out and pointing at the necklace.

Dean tenses as if about to smack Sam's hand away, as if thinking he was going to touch the necklace. "Y/N gave it to me."

"Oh. It's... nice."

"Thanks."

Sam clears his throat, uncomfortable. "Looks kinda like a BDSM thing."

Dean winces. And that tells Sam all he needs to know.

He chuckles a little. "Wow, Dean."

"Shut up." Dean growls. He's not laughing.

"Jeez..." Sam smirks, happy to get under his skin. "I was just-"

"It's something special to my partner and me. That's all you need to know. And all I feel like telling you. Got it?"

"Okay."

The drive is unbearably awkward, especially on the way to take down another spirit.

"Dean?" Sam asks as they park.

"Yeah?" Dean asks gruffly.

"I'm... I'm happy you're that close with someone. I wanted to have what you have with... with Jess."

Dean shifts uncomfortably. But he doesn't protest or shy away - you've helped him learn to communicate and part of that is listening.

"So yeah. It's really cool that you have a partner you're so close to. You're a lot less of a douche than you were." Sam chuckles.

"Yeah. Th-thanks."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam makes to open his door. "How'd you pull a guy so much smarter than you, anyway?"

They leave the car, already more relaxed.

"Yeah, well, it's actually a funny story..."

#dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural headcanons #headcanons #supernatural x reader #male reader

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supercap2319 · 1 month

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Sam: "So, the toxicology report came back on Lance. Nothin'. But the medical examiner said his body showed clear signs that he was killed by Belladonna."

Dean & Charlie: *In unison* "The pornstar?"

Y/N : "The poison you dumb sluts."

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #charlie bradbury #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #felicia day

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gococogo · 2 months

Note

Could i have a demon dean fic with the prompts "Are you afraid of me?" And "Take it off" with a male reader please

Prompt 6 | Crossroads Demon!Dean x Male! Reader

Synopsis: You finally bring yourself to summon a crossroads demon to strike a deal. But you quickly find out that this crossroads demon does things a lil differently to seal a deal.

Word Count: 3.7K

Warnings: Smut. Tongue fucking. Size kink. Dean's a big boy. Reader's short. Praise. If i miss anything, please tell me. It's late at night.

Notes: I am so sorry that this took forever to post. This is probably the longest fic for the Milestone. I wanted to get it right since these types of prompts take me forever to write. But, I hope your enjoy hehe

You can’t get your breathing under control. It comes short and shallow that it makes your head dizzy and light. It actually worked. The ritual actually worked. You stumble backwards, your feet catching against each other on the loose gravel as you fall on your ass. So much for first impressions.

The demon stands tall in the middle of the crossroads clad in a pitch black suit. He sweeps a hand through his blonde hair, trying to tame it but some strands still fall over his freckled face. His black eyes scan over his surroundings before they flicker to an intoxicating green. They set upon you, a frown forming deep upon his features.

“You’re a little pipsqueak now aren’t you,” the crossroad’s demon comments.

At that, you’re quick to your feet, dusting yourself off as thoroughly as you can. You puff out your chest and square your shoulders, because you’re in charge. You’re the one that summoned this demon. You’re the one making the deal. How dare he call you that when you’re the only offering him something in return.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap at him, but your voice comes out cracked.

The demon chuckles, a set of fangs showing from behind his lips. He walks towards you, and you quickly realize just how much taller he is than you. You’re short for a man, only coming up to a 5’5. And standing next to someone over 6 feet is always something.

“I can call you whatever I damn well please,” the demon snaps.

You flinch slightly, brows furrowing in anger at the mouth on this hellish creature. He may not have any horns. Or no tail. Or any hooves in those dress shoes he wears. But he sure as hell smells like a demon. Sulphur at its finest.

“I’m here to make a deal,” you get back onto topic, the reason why you even summoned him here in the first place.

The demon rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes. I know why you’re here. Didn’t summon me for a chit chat now did you?”

He pinches your chin between his thumb and pointer, inspecting you. He moves your head back and forth, looking over every inch of you. You swat his hand away at the feeling of your cheeks flushing something hot.

“Is it money you want? You want your girlfriend to love you? Want a promotion at your job you’ve been stuck in for eight years? Or want your boss dead?” The demon lists off on his clawed fingers.

“What!? No!” You bark out.

“A new car? Your partner to be pregnant?” The demon asks a few more things. “I can do that myself if you want. If you’re the one shooting blanks then you’ve come to the right person. Probably the straightest and strongest shooter you’ve met!” He chuckles loudly.

“No! What are you going on about?”

The demon laughs harder, the noise seeming loud out in the open, deserted road. “Then what is it you want, pipsqueak?”

You ignore the comment. “I want to be six foot tall,” you answer with as much confidence as you can muster.

The demon goes silent. He stares at you with wide eyes, as if you’re pulling his demonic leg. But when you stand there in silence, not speaking a punch line, it settles into the demon that you aren’t joking.

As much as you’d like to be joking, you’re not. You’re sick and tired of people belittling you because of how short you are. Treating you like a child even though you’re a grown ass man. It’s humiliating at some points. And this demon is just showing you that it’s all true.

How will you explain it when you come back to your boring office job six feet tall? You’ll get to that afterwards.

“So,” the demon clears his throat. “You want to sell you soul to be six feet tall? Am I correct?” He asks bluntly, gesturing his hands around as he speaks.

You nod with a, “Yes.”

The demon pops a hip out with a hand placed over it. You watch the motion before dragging your eyes back up. You’d be a fool to admit the demon before you isn’t hot. You wonder if this is what he looked like before he became a demon. How does becoming a demon even work?

The demon shrugs. “Well I guess I know people that have done worse.” He sighs. “Do you know how a crossroads deal is made?” The demon asks with a cocked eyebrow. He makes his way towards you again, reaching out and patting down your tie.

“Yes. A kiss to seal to deal,” you say with confidence.

Just a simple kiss.

“I do things differently,” he says as he hooks a finger into the tie.

“What?” You utter out weakly before you can control yourself.

With the smell of burning fabric, the fabric touching the demon’s finger burns a neat line. It falls off, flopping to the ground. His green eyes land on you and you find yourself unable to speak. A hand hooks into your belt and you stiffen up greatly, your face burning a bright red once again.

“My deals are struck a lil’ more intimately. A little more hands on,” the demon grins, his lips only mere inches away from yours.

You can smell the demon better than before now. The smell of sulphur still lingers, but there’s something else that lingers. Something much sweeter. It’s not a pleasant combination of smells though. But what else did you expect a demon to smell like. Rainbows and unicorns?

But you know what the demon is talking about. You summoned a cross roads demon. Not a fucking succubus.

Yet at the same time, you don’t want to have to do the entire ritual again just to get an ugly demon. It would be a shame to pass up on an opportunity like this. Yes? Maybe you are a little messed up in the head. But those green, green eyes. You can’t seem to look away from them.

“Do you still want to be six foot tall?” The demon all but growls out right in your ear.

You swallow thickly. What harm could getting fucked by a demon to be a little bit taller do? You’re just selling your soul.

“Y-yes,” you utter out.

The grin that spreads across the demon’s face is devious. “Are you afraid of me?” He asks, his voice low and even.

It goes straight to your crotch though. You’ve never had anyone come onto you like this but you’re quickly realizing you might be more into it than you may have first realized. You swallow thickly, not being able to look away from the demon’s piercing gaze.

“No,” you squeak out.

The crossroads demon takes a large step away from you with a hearty laugh spilling from his lips. You’re confused. You can’t help but stand there dumbstruck at the sudden change. With the demon’s back turned, you quickly adjust yourself in your suit pants. Don’t tell yourself that he was joking?

The demon turns back around to you, his eyes looking you up and down as if you’re a piece of meat. You can’t help but step from one foot to the other under the watchful, dark gaze.

“Take it off,” the demon suddenly says.

“W-what?” You utter.

“I said,” the demon makes his way back towards you, placing a finger on your chest. “Take this fucking suit off or otherwise you’ll be walking home in nothing but your birthday suit.”

Oh. Oh. Oh my lord. You can feel yourself become as bright as a tomato and yet, you follow the command instantly. You begin stripping, starting with your coat and button up, then to kicking off your shoes. With only a split second of hesitant, you take off your suit pants and hesitate at your underwear. You look to the demon before you who only cocks an eyebrow your way. You swallow thickly again, butterflies coming to your chest as you strip everything. You cover yourself subconsciously with your hands in front of yourself, trying to hide your bulge.

You flinch at the warm hand splayed across your chest suddenly. You can’t drag your eyes away from the crossroads demon. He licks his lips in anticipation, liking what he sees before him.

His hand glides up your neck to the back of your hair, gripping in to tug your face upwards to him. He’s so much taller than you it’s almost intoxicating. You’re almost standing on your toes as he comes down for a kiss, capturing your lips with teeth and tongue. You can’t help but moan into the kiss as the demon grabs onto your sides tightly. His sharp nails dig into your soft skin causing a harsh shiver to run down your naked back.

The demon pulls away, looking down at you with devious green eyes. A string of saliva connects your flush lips to his and all you find yourself doing is staring.

“Now,” the demon purrs, “Did you want to take this on the hard gravel or do you want to try and stand and take it?” He asks lowly.

You swallow thickly, thinking it over. The thought of your back or stomach getting scuffed up doesn’t sound all that pleasant in your eyes.

“I’ll be alright standing,” you say, a slight shake in your voice.

The demon shrugs with a cocky expression on his face. “Alright,” he mumbles, “It’s your deal.”

He then drop to his knees in the loose gravel, his eyes never leaving yours. He grabs onto your thighs and spins you around. Definitely not the direction you thought this was heading, but you don’t complain otherwise. You can’t help the shaky exhale that leaves your lips at the sudden direction this is turning. This is not what you thought would be happening tonight, but you can’t remember the last time you were properly laid. So may as well take this as it is.

Large hands spread your cheeks open and you suddenly feel very, very exposed. You try and hold back the whimper that tries to escapes your throat as hot breath touches your skin. You bite down on your knuckles as you bend over just a little, giving the demon a better look.

“I’m gonna loosen you up a bit,” you hear the grin on the demon’s voice, his face buried under you. “Don’t want this to be unpleasant is all. May be a demon but I’m not a monster.”

“Who would hav- AH!”

You don’t get much warming than that before a hot tongue licks from the base of your balls all the way to your hole. You shiver violently at the feeling. Does his tongue feel much stickier and thicker than a normal humans or is that just your imagination? He licks a long strip from your balls to your ass again, this time slower than the last. And this time you can’t help the sound that comes from your mouth. You place both of your hands on your knees with your head bowed between your shoulders. This might be a little harder than you thought.

“Don’t hold back, pipsqueak. I love hearing those beautiful noises,” the demon says huskily. “It’s like a reward.”

You go to say something, but everything and anything you were going to do is thrown away as a thick tongue is pushed past the tight rim of your ass. You let out a startled cry at the odd sensation of the hot, sticky tongue within you. It’s as thick as at least three fingers and feels longer than such. It prods and seeps deeper within you, as if searching for something. It stretches you oddly, the strange feeling earning a whimpered moan from your lips.

You bend over a little more, fisting your hands on your knees as they begin to shake. You shudder an exhale as the demon’s tongue curls within you, folding on top of itself to make itself thicker before coiling back out. This is not what you had in mind, but you must admit it does feel amazing. If he keeps this up, you might have to take it to the gravel because your legs might just give way.

You can’t help but keen and gasp at the warm tongue prodding and pushing against your prostate. Your legs shake as it only feels like he goes deeper, and deeper. A sheen of sweat starts to cover your skin that’s quickly cooled in the cold night air.

Your cock sits half hard between your legs, but it wouldn’t take much more to get yourself to full length. You wrap a hand around your cock, giving yourself a few dry strokes. You can’t help the groans and whines that slip through your parted lips as the demon seems content in eating you out for the time being.

After another minute of prodding and twisting, you feel yourself already coming close. This is all so new and blissful that you can’t help yourself. You’re coming in your hand before you even know it. You gasp and groan, clenching your jaw as the tongue retracts from within you. A little shame rids into your gut, but the satisfaction out weights it for now.

A dark chuckle comes from behind you, “You lasted a little longer than some of the other fellas that come to me.”

“Nice to know,” you pant out.

You don’t think you can stand much longer. You return your hands to your knees, trying to catch your breath.

“But we ain’t done, pipsqueak,” the demon rumbles as he stands to his feet.

You peer over your shoulder with wide eyes to catch the demon wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. His blonde hair is ruffled, and those green eyes only watch you with a hunger that’s on the verge of starving.

“Deal isn’t struck until I come in you,” he says bluntly.

“W-what?” You stutter.

The demon leans into your back, wrapping his arms around your middle and hooking his chin on top of your head. He engulfs you fully, holding on tight so that you can’t leave. He leans down and breathes into your ear, and you can’t help but freeze up and become ridged.

He speaks slower and gruffer this time, his voice rough in your ear, “I’m going to fuck you until you come again from just my cock. And nothing else. And then I’m going to fill you up so that you, a little pipsqueak like yourself can become nice and tall to impress everyone around you.”

Goosebumps run across your cool skin at the thought of such. You’ve never had anyone talk to you like this. You’ve never let anyone talk to you like this, but oh my do you like it a little bit too much. The rough words go straight to your soft cock, making it twitch.

“Do you want me to do that?” The demon asks as one of his hands slides back around to your ass, giving the soft flesh a squeeze. “Can you do that for me? Hmm?”

You breath out shakily, “Y-yes, please.”

You can feel him grin again against your neck before giving your flushed skin a kiss. He moves away but just enough so that he can undo his belt. The clinking of the buckle is loud on the open road, and you suddenly become very aware of where you are. You glance around at the empty fields that surround the gravel crossroads. No one comes down here and you bloody hope that no one decides to spontaneously come down a deserted road. But all of that is quickly washed away as a thumb prods into your saliva slicked ass. You grit your teeth at the wet sound and the feel of the cool saliva running down your legs.

The demon hums behind you, almost satisfied with what he’s inspecting. “I think I over did it a little, but you’ll be perfect all the same.”

The thumb disappears to only be replaced by the warmth of the demon’s cock. From what you can feel, he’s big. You can’t help but tense up as you suddenly over think everything. But a hand comes around your front, resting over your heart.

“Oh my,” the demon hums. “Now now, that won’t do. Relaaax, pipsqueak. I ain’t going to do this if you don’t want to. It’s your deal after all.”

The statement does in fact calm you down. You’re here to make a deal. He may be a demon, but he hasn’t hurt you as of yet. Which is reassuring to you right now.

“L-Let’s seal the deal,” you shakily utter out. Not out of fear, but more anticipation and need.

A low chuckle in your ear has your soft dick twitching. The demon pushes past the rim of your ass, the head of his girthy cock slipping in easily. You gasp loudly as he pushes in a little further before pulling out and slamming his hips flush against your ass. He bottom’s out quickly, the entire length of his dick sitting snuggling inside of you. He worked you open well enough to do so, a deep chuckle emitting from his flushed lips. He curves in just the right way that hits against your prostate almost perfectly. The way that has your knees becoming weak and leaves you breathless. He stretches you a little painfully, more so than his tongue but you find yourself only wanting more. The pleasure that courses through your gut fizzles your head and you find yourself not thinking straight.

The demon begins a quick pace, using the hand on your chest to keep you in position as he thrusts into you. He more or less towers over you, being able to hold you up if your legs decided they didn’t want to support you any longer.

The noises that comes from your mouth are ones of pure bliss. You don’t know where to put your hands and after a while you end up placing a one on top of the demon’s on your chest. He chuckles at that, low and deep into the nape of your neck before grabbing a hold of both of your wrists. He crosses your arms in front of your chest, holding onto you tightly as he pounds his hips into your ass. The wet plap of the demon’s hips is numbed out by just how loud you are. You whine and keen and moan with every thrust and every inch he gives you.

You try to catch your breath but every time it’s knocked out of you with each thrust. You’re unable to keep yourself quiet at the closeness and the fulfilment of the demon. He breathes into your neck, mouthing words and kisses into your sweaty skin. Your once soft dick now bounces between your legs half hard. You don’t think you could handle anything touching your dick at the moment. Everything buzzes and trembles in all the right ways.

“You’re probably the best one yet,” the demon grins in your ear. “Taking my cock like a good lil’ boy.”

The praise makes you feel high. You get lost in everything, the constant stretch and pull of the demon pounding without tiredness into your ass. You hunch over, allowing better access for the demon and he follows you. Towering over you, holding you close to his chest. Engulfed in his arms that could wrap around your entirely.

You come a second time, this time being much harsher than the first. You forget how to breath and forget where you are for a second. The demon lets up. Even when you’ve tightened around him, it only makes his movements even more driven. He pumps once, twice before driving his cock deep within you. The warm sensation of him filling you makes your entire body shudder. Makes your dick twitch, expelling a little more cum before once again softening between your legs.

Your legs tremble and shake and if it weren’t for the demon holding onto you, you would have fallen on your face by now in the gravel. You breath heavily, trying to catch your breath as the demon makes sure every last drop of him is expelled inside of you. Sealing the deal.

He pulls out and you whine at the sudden loss. It’s a pathetic noise that you can’t stop. You never knew you could make so many noises until tonight. Nothing that has ever been drawn from you before. And find yourself having loved every moment.

“Can you stand?” The demon chuckles.

You lick your lips and swallow thickly. After a while, you nod sharply as you drag your feet under you. The demon lets you go but keeps his hands on you, afraid you may fall to your knees. But you don’t, you shake a little, but you stand all the same.

You can feel the demon’s cum drippling down your leg and you already know it’s going to be a fun five hour drive home. You might have to grab a motel because five hours sounds like five days right now.

When you turn to face the demon, you now stand eye to eye with his green gaze. He grins from ear to ear with a cocked eyebrow. The deal has been struck.

You don’t feel any different, but the ground does now look as if it’s further away. You’ve gotten your extra inches. Just like that.

“Th-thank you,” you manage to get out.

This makes the crossroads demon laugh, covering his mouth with a hand. Crow’s feet scratch at the corner of his eyes. He points to you with a toothy smile.

“You know, if you ever want to make another deal, call on me personally,” the demon chuckles deeply, “This was fun.”

That, actually sounds like a good idea. You work in an office. You’re digging yourself an early grave anyways.

“And how should I-“ you have to lick your lips, your entire mouth dry. “How should I do that?” You ask.

“Dean,” the demon finally greets himself. “The name’s Dean.”

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l1tw1ck · 28 days

Text

Not a Suspect

Bottom!Dean x Top!Male Reader

☆ Word Count: 1,292 ☆

probably ooc/plot dependent, I haven't watched in a while 😭

CW: Non-Con, First Time Bottoming, Anal Fingering, Humiliation, Overstimulation, Semi Rough Sex, Blood Mention, Daddy Kink, Creampie

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Your hand is pressed against Dean’s neck, his back against the wall. You lifted him a few inches in the air in order to meet your eyes. You caught him snooping around your room.

“I- I thought this was my uncle’s house!” He smiles sheepishly. You're so much stronger than he is, he wasn't expecting to be put in a chokehold. “The door was unlocked so—”

“Save it. I’ve seen you and that other guy hanging around town snooping for information about that incident. You must think I’m a criminal, huh?”

“That's not the case, sir, I um—”

“Did you come to that conclusion after you searched my things?” You click your tongue then look him up and down. “I’ll let this slide though. As long as you make it up to me.”

“I uh, I have forty dollars-”

“Hmm.” You place him on the ground and turn him around. You grab his wallet from his back pocket and find an ID. Your old jobs gave you the skill of knowing what's fake and what's real. “Of course. I knew you weren't a real detective.” You laugh.

“I’m an undercover investigator!”

“Uh huh.” You find a secret pocket and find his real ID. “There we go. Dean Winchester.”

Dean’s ears burn red. He can't believe he's in this situation and that he can't fight back, something about this is making him feel timid. Sam warned him not to do this but he didn't think he'd feel so helpless against you. He’s fought much stronger and scarier creatures than you but it's different when it comes to humans. You can't figure out their motives so easily.

You drop his wallet and lean over, unbuckling his belt then forcefully pulling his pants down. “Hey! What are you doing?!” He flails around defiantly.

“Stop moving.” You use his belt to tie his wrists together.

“I’m not gay!”

“You really think I care, sweetheart?” You pull down his boxers. “Besides, I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself.” You spread his ass open and spit on his rim before forcefully shoving a finger inside him.

“Fuck!” He cries out. “Stop!”

You chuckle. “I know your type. You gag at the mere idea of having sex with another guy.” You force another finger inside him and start stretching him out. “Then, once you do, you love it like the little slut you really are. Trust me.”

His entire face is red with humiliation. “You're wrong.”

“We’ll see about that.” You find his prostate. Dean moans, his knees buckling. If it weren't for your hand on his waist, he’d probably fall. “There it is.” You say gently, your husky voice making him feel strange. You continue to prod at his prostate, reveling in his strained whimpers. He’s trying so hard not to make a sound. He clenches his fists and aggressively bites down on his lip as you continue to pleasure him, although he doesn't want to admit that.

He will admit that it hurts. A lot. Dean rests his forehead on the wall. He hates how good it feels despite everything, your thick fingers stretch him out so well. His face is so hot it feels like he has a fever. “Ah–” Dean gasps. “No- no—” He shuts his eyes tightly and lets out a muffled moan as he comes, splattering the wall with his cum.

“Good boy~” You praise him, slowly sliding your fingers out. It feels like Dean’s head is going to explode. “I’m a little too impatient to keep going.”

Dean gulps at the sound of your belt falling to the ground and your fly being unzipped. There's nothing he can do to stop you. You take out your hard length and press the tip against his rim. You lick your lips and begin to force yourself inside. “You're tight, baby.” You groan, pressing your chin on his shoulder. His palms begin to bleed from how tightly he's clenching his fists, it's too painful for him.

“Fuck—” He breathes out. You're big.

“It hurts, doesn't it?” You coo, reaching out for his weeping cock. “Let me help you.”

Dean moans as you begin to roughly stroke his dick. “Sto- stop–” A single tear runs down his cheek. You're reaching so far inside him. He rolls his eyes back as you bring him closer to his climax.

“It’s all in, baby.” You bottom out. “How’s it feel?”

“It fucking hurts–” He hisses, more tears running down his cheeks. “You bastard– ah~!” He comes once again.

“You're cute when you whine.” You slowly pull back then shove your cock back inside. Dean rolls his eyes back and lets out a slutty sounding moan. You grin and start thrusting in and out of him at a steady pace. You look at his beat red face, his mouth remaining open to let out his pathetic moans. “‘S good, isn't it?”

Dean shakes his head despite his body betraying him. “No- No~!”

“You're not good at lying.” You place your hand on his throat, lifting his head up. “Admit it. You like getting fucked.”

He bites down on his lip and rips a bit of skin, blood trickling down. You lean in closer and lick up his blood. “You like how Daddy spreads open your tight hole, don't you, baby?”

He lets out a muffled whimper, his cock weakly spurting out another rope of cum.

You chuckle. “I know I’m right.” You let go of his neck and stroke his dick again. “You’re just a pretty little cock whore.”

“Nnh- No-” He moans. Dean is well aware of the fact that his lies are completely unbelievable. He doesn't want to like this at all.

“Yeah? You really think you're not? You think you're not into this?” You laugh again. “No, Dean, you're a slut who loves taking cock. You love how it feels to have a cock in your ass. Admit it.”

“I don't- I don-” He pauses, drool spilling from his lips as you stroke his sensitive cock.

“Be honest, slut.” You rub the tip of his length with your thumb. Dean has another orgasm. He…He really does like it.

He whimpers adorably. “Don't…Don’t stop.”

“That’s what I thought.” You say smugly, smirking. He shivers. You let go of his poor length and pull out. You turn him around and lift him up by his thighs, pushing his back against the wall. He looks at you in embarrassment as you slide your length back inside him and roughly fuck him.

Dean moans more freely than before, his eyelashes fluttering like a hand fan. He wraps his arms around you for stability. “Fuck~! Wai- wait~!” He gasps.

“I can't control myself, your cunt feels too fucking good.”

He mewls. You lean in and sloppily make out with him. You’re driving him insane. You slide your hand up underneath his shirt and rub your thumb against his nipple. He moans into your mouth. His nipples have always been sensitive but it feels even better in this situation.

You pull away and let out a groan. “Gonna come, sweetheart, right in this tight ass of yours.”

“Mmh- yes~” Dean really feels like a slut now. You were right.

You chuckle and let out a low sound of pleasure as your thrusts slow to a halt, your cock spurting hot ropes of cum into his cunt. “There you go, getting your ass stuffed is a much better job for you.” You pull out and drop him onto your bed. “Should I call you a cab?”

He shakes his head. He doesn't want to leave. “Can I stay?”

You chuckle. “Sure. And you know what? I know a few things about that incident you're looking into.”

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #dom male reader #tw noncon #dean winchester x male reader #bottom dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural x male reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural smut

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frankieburieshisdead · 2 months

Text

⛧𝔖𝔞𝔪 𝔚𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔵 𝔐𝔞𝔩𝔢 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯⛧

CW: NSFW, brief dubcon, angst

It was only two days. That was the agreement. That's how much you got of Sam Winchester. Two days and three nights and then he would pack up his life into his brother's shitty little flat-back impala and you would never see him again.

Until of course you saw him again.

You had friends over when he called. Squeezing past the group of 20 somethings wolf whistling at you as you went to pick up the landline meant that you were giggling when you picked up. You had set his number to a specific ring. It was the dial tone version of "Spooky boy like you" by Dusty Springfield. All your friends knew about Sam 'Sammy' Winchester, who had exorcised a cruel version of your reflection from your vanity mirror and then hadn't left your room for the rest of the weekend.

"Hey!" You answered, almost too excited as the box wine you had been drinking all night spurred on your mood.

"Hey," his voice was rough, like he'd used it up. "I'm in town, can I come over?"

You sobered quickly. "What's wrong?"

"I, um," you twisted the cord of the phone tightly between your two fingers. "Can I come over?" He asked again, desperate.

"Yes."

It took a bit of cajoling to get your company out, but you had the place mostly cleaned out by the time your doorman rang up to let you know a tall man with long brown hair was waiting downstairs for you.

He looked tired. His body hunched downwards, shoulders drooping. He looked good with the 5 o'clock shadow he was sporting.

Oh sweetheart, you wanted to say, what happened?

Instead you said: "come in."

He tipped forward, nuzzling into your neck. There was a wet stripe up your jaw and behind the shell of your ear. "Sam," you muttered under your breath, sure there was something more important to talk about. Hard to remember when the best sex of your life was rubbing his thigh up against your crotch. His arms circled your slim biceps, squeezing, almost shy of painful as he lifted you up onto your kitchen counter.

Hands unbuckling and unwinding, you let this moose of a man strip you on your kitchen counter. There was a second there that you both took to breathe, foreheads pressed together as his small way of asking "is this okay?" You nodded against his mouth and pulled his body flush against yours.

He prepped you like a man in front of his last meal. Quick and yet savoring. Rough but so attentive you had begun to squeal by the end of it. When he was inside you, there wasn't a second to breathe before he was hauling you on top, using the leverage of the flat mattress and his grip on your waist to bounce you like a rag doll. It wasn't at all like you remembered. He was too fast, jack rabbiting into you and hitting all the wrong spots. You had begun to realize the cruel way his fingers pressed into your lower back, digging and bruising. His sweet face was twisted up into a snarl and he frowned like he was waiting to get it over with.

You weren't having fun anymore.

"Sam stop!" You put your hands over his and squeezed. "You're hurting me!"

He immediately stilled, back still arched as you felt his stuttering heart in your abdomen.

"What?" He blinked up at you, almost out of a daze.

"You're hurting me." You said in a smaller voice.

Something snapped then. Sam's eyes crooning into a dip, his lip turning white from the way he was biting into it.

"I am?" He sounded devastated, truly and honestly devastated. His grip was loose, still around you but shaking. You should have stopped him the moment you realized something was wrong. It was too late now, he was still hard and wanting inside you and you weren't enough of a good person to kick him out. Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

"Okay, were okay baby. Just a little slower yeah?" You began to grind your hips downwards, letting the tip of his cock kiss something deep inside you. His eyes rolled back and you felt a full body shiver underneath you.

You fell forward when he bucked into you, almost like he couldn't help but crawl deeper. You had both arms on either side of his head, his mouth panting into yours. "Press here, like that." You put his hand on the bottom of your abdomen, pressing his fingers into the gap between his dick and your happy place. You screamed when you came, gripping onto Sam's shaggy cut as you're back arched. You were never sure if it was the hair pulling, the scream, or the the way you tightened up like a corkscrew that set him off but suddenly there was a silky feeling dripping out of you and Sam was sobbing into your shoulder.

"Oh baby you're okay." You soothed where you had been pulling at his roots. You were still out of breath, still impossibly full. "We're good, I'm here." He had both arms pressing you into his chest, keeping your head over his shoulder so you couldn't see his face. You had to force your way up, pulling out of his hold to look at the bloodshot look he was trying to hide into the pillow.

"Lets get some sleep. We'll talk about it in the morning." You used what little strength you had to flip the two of you over, in part so Sam was lying over you like a heated blanket and also so the threat of the ever soggier bed sheet was further away.

"Okay." His voice was raspy but sweet. You were glad to have Sam Winchester for one more weekend.

#fanfic #smut #supernatural #sam winchester #x male y/n #x male reader #x male smut #bottom male reader #light angst #this is set after ruby dies and Sam lets Lucifer free #oh spoilers ig #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x male reader

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godjustkys · 4 months

Text

| mndi 18+

| What a perv.

please give requests.

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Pairing: Top!dom!AMAB!reader x bottom!sub!Dean Winchester.

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Genre: smut.

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Word count: 2,357

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Warning(s): slight feminisation, use of pet names, reader being a cocky asshole (just a lil bit), unprotected sex, reader has clothes on/character does not, bratty Dean >:)

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Request: "can i req perv dean winchester x top male reader? possibly where dean’s jerking off to something that correlates to the reader (like a picture/boxers/whatever works really), but ends up getting caught? he’d usually use his glib tongue to get away, but poor princess is so embarrassed he’s caught jerking off to a guy."

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A/n: i think about dean a lot, putting my headcanons to use here. i need him so badly,,

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You had just gotten back from a grocery trip, putting the bags on the kitchen table. “Fuckin' hell, it's quiet.” You murmured to yourself, your hands on your hips.

Sam was out. Somewhere. Said he had business to attend to. He took Cas with him, so the only one that should be home right now was Dean. At first you thought you'd come home to Dean sitting in the kitchen and drinking, or simply watching the TV.

Neither of those were the case. You slowly walked to Dean's room, thinking to yourself. Just as you reached the door to his bedroom, you opened it immediately, figuring it'd be pointless to knock at this point.

“Dean, will y- woah—” you were in the doorway, standing still, your hand on the door handle.

Dean scrambled to sit up, getting a blanket to cover himself up. “What the hell! Knock, you moron!” He yelled at you, his facial expression clearly offended. Dean swallowed hard, eyebrows furrowed.

“Jesus Christ, okay, sorry-” you thought it was funny, how you caught him jerking off. You had a grin on your face, taking in the surroundings for a little while as you took a small step back, planning to close the door and leave Dean alone. Your smile dropped in a matter of seconds when you noticed your shirt — your dirty, bloody shirt that was supposed to be in the laundry,, in the grasp of Dean's hand.

“S'that..” you inquired slowly, squinting your eyes. “Is that my shirt?” You tilted your head to the side, your shoulders slumping. Why would Dean have your shirt in the first place?

“wh—” he looked down at his hand, practically baffled. Once Dean realized you had seen the piece of clothing, his grip tightened. “What? N— no, no that's mine.” He tried hiding it behind his back slowly.

“Dean, that's my shirt.” You pointed out, your facial expression going blank. “Were you-” you paused mid sentence, trying to take in the new information. “Were you jerking off to me?” Your tone had gotten a tad bit more serious.

“Huh?” He turned his head to look at you, wondering if he heard your question right. “No! No way! What in the world are you talking about?” His tone was defensive as he sat up more straight.

“Wait, scratch that. You were jerking off to a guy?” The look on your face was priceless, absolutely stunned. You knew you caught him, he was in a pinch. He wouldn't get out of this easily. “Since when are you so accepting of your attraction to men?”

“Hold on, does that mean you find me attractive? Am I attractive to you, Dean?” You fixed up your shirt, trying your best to look presentable. “Am I hot enough to get you off? Hm?” That same grin crept back on your face. Being friends with Dean was one thing, annoying and teasing the absolute shit out of him was another. You loved every minute of it.

Dean's gaze shifted to the floor, the feeling of heat cursing through him. Was he getting embarrassed? No, he had to come up with something to derail this conversation.

“You're being fucking ridiculous, [Name], get the hell out.” Dean made eye contact with you, trying to keep his poker face up.

“Awh, is my poor princess embarrassed to be caught jerking off to a guy?” You cooed, walking into the room and closing the door behind you. “You know damn well that it is my shirt.” You spoke, making your way towards Dean. Before the other could respond, you reached around and snatched the shirt.

You held it up, taking a proper look. “Yep,” You nodded with an affirming tone. “It is, in fact, my shirt.” Dean looked away from you, eyebrows furrowed as he huffed, clearly annoyed or even embarrassed. “Fuck off, out of my room, now.” He commanded, his voice ever-so slightly shaky.

“Ay, what the hell? I caught you jerking off to me, and now you're trynna kick me out?” You tilted your head to the side, throwing the shirt onto the ground. “Come on, I gotta know if you're in love with me or not,” you pushed further, your tone firm.

Dean scoffed as he laid back down with a small thud, the blanket still covering his lower half. He brought his arm up to his face, covering his eyes. “No. M'not. Get out,” Even though Dean denied it, his tone didn't seem that confident or convincing.

“You want me to get out and leave my shirt so you can continue jerking off to me? Orrr,, perhaps, there's a chance you want me to stay and get the real deal?” You didn't give it up, how could you? Dean Winchester, an absolute ladies man, trying to get off to his friend, a guy.

“What are you talking about??” He asked in an almost offended tone, taking his arm off of his face to look at you.

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Deep breaths and groans filled the silent room, your hands gripping his firm thighs as you slowly pushed your cock in. Both of Dean's legs were over your shoulders. “Shit.. t'feels weird,” He breathed out, his left hand resting atop of yours, right hand freely on the bed itself.

“Yeah, well, now you know how a woman feels when you fuck her ass.” You said in a taunting tone, not taking your eyes away from your lower half. The sight of your cock slowly disappearing in his entrance - god.

Dean muttered something out that was followed by a grunt, his hand gripping the sheets underneath the two of you a little. “Jesus Chr— ist..” His voice faltered mid-word, eyelids fluttering shut. “Relax, Dean, relax. You're doin' good,” You encouraged him in a gentle manner, rubbing circles on his thighs with your thumbs to soothe him - calm him down.

“I am- relaxed.” He grumbled out, letting out a small wince. “Wouldn't say it feels like that,” You leaned down a bit, pushing on Dean's legs. Soon enough, you fully bottomed out. “Need a moment?” You asked, eyes flickering all over Dean's torso. “You take me for a wimp?” He said breathily, opening his eyes to make eye contact with you.

Once you looked into Dean's eyes, you got so lost. He looked breathtaking like this, the look in his eyes - full of lust, neediness and want, the glossiness of them. His slightly furrowed eyebrows, clenched jaw, his hand on yours,, the hand gripping the sheets.. so perfect. All of him was perfect. “Fuckin' hell..” You muttered out, moving your left hand to Dean's cock, very slowly jerking him off.

“Mff-..mm.” Soft noises escaped his mouth, followed by a sigh of content. Your touch stimulated him to no end. “You never got to cum, right? I interrupted you,” You spoke in a delighted tone, a smirk plastered on your face. “Why don't we finish off what you started, huh?” Your hand's pace had quickened with your sentence as Dean tilted his head back, his blinking getting more frequent and excessive.

“Fuckkkk..” He said, his voice quiet and low. His breath hitched in his throat for a short moment as you started slowly thrusting in and out. Agonizingly slowly. “Did you grab my shirt from the laundry?” You questioned suddenly, looking down at him with half-lidded eyes. “Cause it was dirty, you know, I'm curious.” You added, a grin flashing across your face.

“Mmh— nhgggh!—” Dean breathed out simple whines and whimpers. You were not sure if he even heard you, your thrusting getting more rhythmic and deeper. It was all new to the other - he'd usually do the fucking. “Hey Dean-oooo, I asked you a question baby,” You cooed, thumb rubbing over the slit of his dick, putting pressure on it. “Son of a bitch— shit!” He pressed his head back into the pillow, hand gripping the sheets so hard his knuckles turned white. Dean had a hard time not squeezing your hand as well.

You moved your hand, intertwining your fingers together as you pushed his arm, making his forearm rest beside his head, pressing his hand into the mattress a bit as you propped yourself up. “Breathe Dean, jeez,” You said with a small breathless scoff, your other hand pumping his cock continuously. “Sh— shut up,, I hate y..you, hhgg!-” Dean managed to speak, his sentence truly holding no malice or hostility behind his tone of voice, moving his head to the side and letting out a hiss at the feeling of your cock inside him. “Do you?” The grin never left your face. “Not only did I catch you jerking off to me, or my clothes rather, but you're letting me fuck you as well. That speaks volumes to me baby,” You shifted on your knees, finding a completely new angle. You pushed in, reaching deep. With that, Dean choked out a gasp, his eyes shooting open as he arched his back off of the bed slightly.

Almost immediately Dean let go of the sheets, bringing his hand to his mouth, covering it. He let out a couple muffled moans, really starting to sweat. Your thrusting pace quickened. It was harsh and deep. “You feelin' shy? We're alone, no one's gonna hear you, Dean.” You mumbled, looking down at your hand jerking him off. His cock twitched, leaking precum. You let out a groan at the feeling of Dean clenching around you.

At this point Dean was seeing stars behind his eyes, the feeling was entirely new to him yet it felt so good. Too good, maybe. He whimpered against his hand, his thighs tensing as they shuddered. You clicked your tongue in annoyance, not exactly directed towards him. You removed your hand from his cock and grasped his wrist, removing his own hand from his mouth so he wouldn't muffle his moans anymore. You pinned it next to his head on the mattress, almost the same as his other hand.

Of course Dean tried resisting being pinned, but you did all of that while fucking him mercilessly and relentlessly. “oh- ah! fucckk—” He bit down on his bottom lip to try and suppress his moaning. You suddenly hit his prostate with a harsh thrust, earning a loud whine from Dean, his one hand clenching into a fist, the other squeezing yours. “Nnh! Shit! Yes yes yes, just like that-” he rambled out, his chest rising and falling with each breath that he took, his lips parted.

His legs started trembling over your shoulders, toes curling. You let a soft groan leave your lips, leaning your body down again, Dean's knees inches away from his chest. He seemed more flexible than you thought. “Yeah? Feels good, doesn't it?” You said in a confident tone, letting out a soft sigh of content, your thrusts ever so slightly losing rhythm.

“Ghhh— pleaseee, pleasepleaseplease,” He whined, his muscles tensed visibly as his body spasmed, shaking his head. You abused his prostate, most likely bruised it as well. Dean squirmed underneath you, his arms aching - couldn't put his hands where he wanted with you pinning him to the bed. His cock throbbed as it was lightly pressed between the both of your abdomens. “w- I'm close! shit! i'm so close!-”

“Go on, cum for me, you've been so good,” You praised him in a softer voice, trying to keep up the same fast pace just to push Dean over the edge. His eyes shut tight, pushing his arms up in an attempt to free himself. As you noticed this, you let go of both of his hands and he almost instinctively wrapped them around your neck, pulling you in as close as possible. Without any further warning, Dean came, making a mess on his own stomach. He choked out a breath he didn't even know he was holding, panting afterwards, eyebrows only stitching together further.

“There we go, good boy,” You murmured, gasping softly as Dean's walls tightened around you. He was starting to get a bit overstimulated with the way you continued pounding into him after he came. One hand of Dean's gripped your shirt, the other holding onto the back of your neck. You felt your own climax nearing.

“Mmhhh,” You hummed out, placing open-mouthed kisses on Dean's neck as a way to distract yourself a little. You ended up only chasing your own orgasm, your cock twitching inside Dean's hole. He shuddered, fingers tangling in your hair, slightly pulling on the locks. “There- there, right there-” Dean moaned out, his voice hoarse and raspy, trying to ride down his own orgasm.

Your hips stuttered, slowly breaking the pace. You were close, almost ready to pull out. Dean felt slight emptiness near his prostate due to you not pushing back in and he whined. “N— no, no, inside, come inside.” Dean rasped out, holding you close to him. You raised an eyebrow at this, nonetheless complying with the other's request. “Fuck Dean, you're kinky,” you joked, pushing your cock all the way in.

His legs continued to shake, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “g-god,” Dean managed to speak through the string of moans and whimpers he let out. With one harsh final thrust and a groan, you came inside Dean, the warm liquid pooling inside him. He let out a shaky sigh, his grip on you loosening. You dropped your head down and leaned your forehead on Dean's shoulder, relaxing. “This fulfilled your expectations of me?” you asked, clearly out of breath. “Or do you wanna go again?” You whispered, your hands moving to remove Dean's legs from your shoulders, lowering them and making them wrap around your waist.

Dean paused as you lifted your head back up again, looking down at him. He made eye contact with you, his eyes ever so slightly teary. “You think you got enough stamina for another round?” He mocked you, his panting very audible, voice quieter than usual. “You're a little shit,” You chuckled, shifting your position to a sitting one. “You're getting what you asked for,” with a tight grip on his hips, you started moving again.

#male reader #request #top male reader #dom male reader #fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester supernatural #one shot #smut #dean winchester smut

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