Characters: Dean x Reader
Summary: Shower sex. It’s not mentioned in the fic, but this is MOC!Dean.
The door is open. Not wide open, but open enough. Enough that I can hear, enough that I can imagine, enough.
It feels like an invitation.
Dean Winchester knew that I’d be able to hear what he’s doing in that shower right now. Dean knew that I would hear the small sighs and gasps and moans. He knew I would hear the unmistakable sound of his hand jerking his cock back and forth.
Did he know how wet it would make me to hear him? Did he know that I’d be standing here, shifting back and forth on the balls of my feet, trying to make a decision?
Did he know that I would slip my finger down the front of my jeans for some goddamn relief? Did he know that my skin would feel electric, the current of arousal thrumming beneath the surface of my skin?
Did he think that I would walk through that door?
On shaking legs, I cross the room, my body deciding for me. I push the door open. He’s facing the door, he’s been waiting for me.The air is sucked out of my lungs when I see his perfectly carved body when I see the thickness in his hand. Breathtaking, he’s simply breathtaking.
His eyes lock onto mine, his expression sensual, his eyes lidded. He licks his pink lips as he continues to stroke himself.
“I - can I watch?” I ask, my voice ragged.
Dean moans a low, deep, throaty sound that runs from the top of my head, down my spine, to the tips of my toes.
“Take your clothes off,” he rasps out.
My fingers tremble as I lift the hem of my tank, pulling it over my head. Dean makes a strangled sound when my bra is discarded, my breasts hanging heavy and full. The air in this room, it feels like it’s static, like it’s alive. There’s a current running between us heavy with lust and yearning.
There’d always been a thread pulling us together, as we orbited around each other. We’ve never crossed the line. I’d always wondered when one of us would cave. It was almost like a game.
I step out of my jeans, standing only in my thong. Dean can see the moist spot dampening the fabric. He lets out another moan, watching intently as a slide them slowly down my thighs, baring myself before him.
Unsteady, I take a step toward the shower. He places the palm of his free hand against the glass, I raise mine to meet his.
It’s an agreement of sorts, it’s a decision. It’s a choice. We choose this.
I slide the glass door open and step into the shower. Dean is wrapped around me in an instant, his slick body molding to mine. He kisses me, a deep, scorching kiss. All the pent up frustration, all the passion between us, ignites and is poured into this kiss.
I can’t breathe, my head is spinning, my chest on fire. It’s a tempest, a savage storm raging inside my body.
Dean lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist, my back pressed to the shower tiles. He’s pushing into me, it’s frantic, the need, it’s like he can’t be inside of me fast enough, deep enough.
I cry out as he fills me, stretching me. I relish the feel, the fullness, the perfection of this union. We are raw, we are wild, we are hasty. My nipples press to his broad chest, it feels as if we are connected, our bodies sliding against one another, skin on skin.
“Dean.” His name escapes my lips, rolling off my tongue, my voice ragged.
“Say it again,” he grunts, snapping his hips forward.
“Fuck,” he moans. “Wanted to fuck you for so long.” His breath is hot and tickles against my ear, sparking a fire low in my belly.
With those perfect, sinful lips, he whispers dirty things in my ear, his tongue darting out to trace the lobe, his lips sucking the delicate skin beneath. “Wanted to hear you scream my name,” he whispers. “Wanted to feel how wet and warm you are inside.”
I choke back a sob as the pressure builds, as my body begins to tense, preparing for release.
“I want to feel you come all over my cock. Then I want to lay you down on the bed and taste you. Then I’m going to fuck you again.”
I explode, my body engulfed in flames, burning from the inside out. I pulse and contract and vibrate, my vision darkening, the blood thundering in my ears.
“That’s it, fucking come for me,” Dean urges. “Oh, god…yes…shit…ah…ah…fuck!”
Dean lets out a guttural sound, his body shuddering, his hip bones pinning me to the wall as he comes. His shoulders tremble, his chest heaving with exertion.
With shaking hands, he lowers me so that I can stand again. For a moment, we are frozen. What now?
He reaches out a hand and cups my cheek before leaning in to kiss me, more softly this time, almost reverently.
Turning off the shower, he steps out and hands me a towel. I’m in a daze, thoroughly fucked and partly uncertain. Will this change everything? Was it wrong?
I’m startled when Dean scoops me up in his arms, bridal style.
“Told you I was going to take you over to the bed. I’m not done with you yet,” he replies with a wicked grin.
