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ྀི ₊ New Blog ㅤ♡ྀི ₊

𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐘 ! ᴍᴅɴɪ 18+ ⋆. 𐙚

Thinking about spnAU!Dean Winchester being reader's bf who wants her literally all the time, no matter where!

Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up), car sex, quickie, semi-public, penetrative sex, creampies<3 BOTTOM DEAN!

(wc: ≈ 1.4k) (genre: smut)

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

| It could be everywhere; after a long day in a motel room, during a hunt in an abandoned house, or at a gas station in some disgusting bathroom.

Today was one of those days again. Dean found himself worked up after a—way too long—drive across the country. Not only haven’t they reached the motel where they were supposed to stay at, but the weather was absolutely unbearable too. Mid July, the hottest of all the months.

Sam was complaining. You were complaining. Dean was already in a grumpy mood to begin with! He refused wearing shorts since he insisted they weren’t manly enough and the Impala he loved so much didn’t really have any sort of AC.

With the windows down and his dad-rock playing from the cassettes he kept in the glovebox, you three eventually did reach some lonely-looking diner. It wasn’t exactly luxury, but hunting didn’t come with a paycheck. In other words; you were too broke for any fancy restaurants.

————————————————————

"Sam, you go and check what’s on the menu— Get me extra fries while you’re at it." Dean called over his shoulder to his brother.

Sam glanced between the two of you from the front seat, catching the shift in Dean's mood.

"I’m just gonna… go order food before I see something I don't wanna see.." He mumbled, as he slammed the car door shut.

"Take your time, Sammy! No need to hurry—" Dean shouted after him, looking way too smug.

As soon as Sam was gone, Dean turned to his girlfriend; you.

Currently, you were sitting in the backseat, trying to get your shoes back on, in order to get out of the car and stretch your limbs. Maybe get some ice cream yourself.

"What're you doin', babe?" Dean's voice was raspy, a twinge of that boyish tone still shining through, despite his best efforts to sound composed.

"What does it look like, De? I'm starving—" You'd complain. He expected nothing less.

"You really wanna go in there with Sammy? C'mon, can’t the food wait? For a moment? Don’t you wanna spend time with your boyfriend?"

"Dean, what—" You'd look up from your shoe laces, only to meet his green eyes, his sickly long lashes, looking at you like he’s starving too. Just.. not for food.

"Baby, please— Sammy’s gone. He’ll be gone for at least twenty minutes. I've been.. I couldn’t stop thinking about you today. Don’t be cruel.." He pleaded. Actually. His voice turned much whinier than before, still slightly cocky nonetheless.

"Seriously?! We fucked last night—" You were cut off by his frame already climbing into the backseat, already pressed against you.

"C'mon, please.. Whatever you want. Let me taste you— Or.. use your mouth on me. Your hands. Ride me, I don’t care—" The way he said it made you feel pretty sure he was about to cry if you didn’t give in.

"You’re such a loser, Dean, like.. you’re worse than a teenager!" You’d laugh, while simultaneously climbing on top of his lap, your arms lazily wrapped around his neck, before you press your lips against his plush ones.

The kiss quickly turned into a makeout session, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip, claiming it’s way into your month, just to intertwine with yours. It was a moment full of tongue and teeth, his hands roaming all over your body, already pulling your tank top over your head, leaving your in your bra.

When he unclasped it single-handedly, his lips were still glued to yours. You could feel the sliver ring he wore, cold metal against your searing skin, leaving goosebumps in it's wake.

You were forced to be the one breaking away from the kiss, since Dean was ready to asphyxiate on your lips and die a happy man. You could tell by his panting, his parted, wet lips, as you looked over his flushed, freckled face.

At this point, neither of you really cared about the people that may walk by and catch a glimpse of the heated moment anymore. The diner's parking lot was pretty much empty anyway.

"Please, baby.. don’t make me wait. I can’t—" He begged. His eyes looking up at you, as you smile to yourself and trail your hands down his chest.

"Patience, De.." You'd scold, although his hands were already palming at your tits, squishing the soft flesh, and trying to drink in the sight. His cock was already hard and leaking in his pants, pleading to be noticed.

His shirt was lost soon enough too. Leaving his amulet to dangle across his freckled muscles. It was a delicious sight, made you almost forget that Sam would be back in ten minutes. That said, you quickly lost your shorts as well.

With this new determination to finish before you got caught, you undid his belt, unzipped his jeans, pulling the fabric down to his meaty thighs, revealing his ratty, grey boxers.

"Can’t wait— wanna taste.. wanna look at you all day.. every day—" Dean had to stop himself from drooling over you, when you finally pulled his precum-stained boxers down and freed his aching cock.

The tip was already flushed in a deep shade of pink, clear pre running down the veins along his shaft, soaking his dark blonde pubes.

Usually, you’d give him a blowjob first, but honestly? You weren’t sure if he could handle that right now, given that he almost came untouched.

You moved your lace panties aside, revealing your already glistening cunt, as your grabbed a hold of his cock, sliding him along your slit to gather the mixed lube of both of your arousal.

Once you finally slid down his length, his eyes fluttered shut and his head tipped back, sweat already beading at his short dirty blonde spikes of hair. His mouth fell slightly open, breathy moans leaving his throat immediately.

"Oh— fuck, Dean.. It’s big—" You should be used to it by now.. but every now and then, you still need a moment to get used to his size.

"You got it, baby— It’s okay. It’s fine— Just move. C'mon.." He urged you on, his hands squeezing and pulling at the flesh of your hips.

Dean was entirely blinded by the pleasure of your warm walls around him, dismissing the fact that you might have needed some time to adjust, because he was just that desperate.

When you did begin riding his cock with a steady rhythm, his face buried against your shoulder, his forehead tipping onto your collarbones, as his arms hugged tightly around your body.

The lewd sounds of skin on skin and the slick between your bodies now started to combine with Dean's whines. He was no longer moaning, no, his sounds bordered on whimpers.

"Baby— I'm not gonna last— I can’t.. feels too good—" He forced those words out, while his body was unconsciously trying to merge with you, his face now smooshed against your chest. His mouth was left slightly agape, his eyes squeezed shut, and his eyebrows furrowed.

He clumsily tried to slide one of his hands down towards your clit, giving it uncoordinated circles. Though, he missed the spot with his thumb about five times, before he gave up and just wrapped both his arms around you.

"Come, De— Fuck, just— come inside." You'd moan, as your hands were clawing at his chiseled shoulders and the back of his head. Fingers tugging at hair that was too short to really pull at.

The scratching of your fingertips against his scalp and the warm, wet pleasure of your walls tightening and pulsing around his swollen cock eventually overwhelmed him, pushing him to a mind-blowing orgasm, that had him moaning and whining high pitched gasps against your damp skin.

His cock pulsed thick hot ropes of cum inside you, leaving your cunt so full, it caused the sticky mess to drip down against his own lap, soaking his thighs.

"Oh— shit, that was—" He breathed out, trying to regain his consciousness, even though he was still seeing stars from the orgasm.

Then it washed over him like cold sweat; Sammy was about to come back! His eyes shot wide, as he looked at you.

"Fuck, baby. You gotta clean up. You’re dripping—"

"Yeah, and whose fault is that, smartass?" You laughed, before quickly pulling both your panties and your shorts back up, not minding the literal cum that was leaking out of you.

"Can’t blame a man for wanting his girl, baby.." There was that cocky attitude seeping back into his tone, as if he hadn’t just whimpered and pleaded for you.

With surprising efficiency, he was dressed again, climbing back behind the wheel, as he made sure to open the doors to his beloved car, wanting to get rid of the smell of sex before his brother suspected anything.

As for the dubious stains on the leather seats; he just threw his jacket over them, hoping he wouldn’t forget to clean the car tomorrow.

You were in the bathroom of the diner, trying to freshen up, as Sammy finally came back with the food. Greasy fries and burgers.

Weirdly enough, Dean was flushed, trying to look unbothered, as his brother got back into the car.

"Dean, you okay? Where’s reader?" Sam asked innocently, frowning in confusion.

"Yeah— sure. Just fine. She’s— she said she had to freshen up. Heat must be getting to her."

Dean was such a liar. His dick was still twitching in his boxers from his earlier high.

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐆 ! ᴍᴅɴɪ 18+ ⋆. 𐙚

Thinking about normalAU!Dean Winchester being a jerk and a stoner!

Warnings: unprotected sex (irresponsible), smoking weed, selling weed, porn mentioned, Dean being a perv but it’s ok!

(wc: ≈ 2k)

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| He would be known around the school for his tendencies and easy money making. There were some whispers going around that he sold weed. Other rumors said his shit was laced but he never failed to sell. Weirdly so, he was pretty popular.

What else he was known for? Being a quick fuck.

Dean Winchester liked to sleep around, skip class, and get high in his free time. Whenever he did, he would play video games on his little brother's, Sammy's, xbox.

Or he would jerk off to those sticky magazines he kept hidden under his bed.. stashed along with his laptop. Although his laptop was full of viruses and the moans from the pornos he liked to watch.. sounded tinny. Super hot, right?

——————————————————

And then there was you; a random girl on the cheerleading team.

Of course, Dean had fucked a few of your teammates, but that didn’t bother you the night you two had sex in the back of his Impala. His dad's Impala..

Maybe it was the way he got you high for the first time.. or maybe the way his dick had been all up in your guts that night…

..but Dean Winchester was no longer a single man! His fuckboy era was officially over, as soon as he decided to ask you out and make you his girlfriend. With a cheap bouquet of flowers and a teddy bear you kept in your bed, no less.

——————————————————

On a hot day in June, you decide to visit your boyfriend after school, showing up at his door in those low.. low rise shorts and your tightest tank top, chest on display for your dearest most loyalest.. Dean.

A few moments after, you were in his trashed room, kicking your way through worn boxers and shirts, as you flopped against his bed, not minding the dubious stains on his navy blue sheets.

Dean sat back down on the floor next to a six pack of warm beers, controller in his hands, playing.. whatever. You wouldn’t know.

As your eyes darted through his room, you made eye contact with the lead singer of Led Zeppelin. You sigh, roll your eyes and complain. "Babe, why weren’t you in school today?"

"Huh?" He’d reply, looking at you with bleary, red eyes and a dopey smile across his unfairly plush lips.

Throwing a pair of underwear at him, you groan again. "I asked why you missed school, asshole! I had practice today— You promised to come see me!"

"Geez, stop fuckin' yelling, will you?" He said, before looking back at his screen.. only to be met with a 'game over'. That’s when he whined obnoxiously. "Look what you did, babe! I swear, you women—"

Typical Dean. You sigh, before figuring that the easiest way to catch his attention, was to just strip. In that same breath, you threw your tank top onto his dirty floor, and called out to him again in faux innocence. "De, baby.. don’t you wanna look at me?"

"Wha—" He was about to grumble again, before he snapped his head around to see you. In your vs push up bra and shorts, stripping on his bed. "Oh, hello.. what’s this about, sexy?"

His dirty talk makes you cringe. You were pretty sure he copied some one liners from some movies, but you didn’t complain. After all, you weren’t far away from it either, when you faked a pornstar voice.

Dean got up and sauntered over to you, already getting rid of his jeans somewhere along the way, before climbing onto his creaking bed, looking at you like he was high out of his mind and you might be his sexiest trip.

"Baby, I’ve missed you all day.. so much, baby. Every second.." He promised between kisses along your neck and jaw, his words muffled, when he lied sickly sweet through his teeth.

This guy would say anything to get into your pants. And it was kinda hot, so you allowed it, playing along with it, as you landed on your back, with him on top of you.

"I’m sure you did.. I was sooo upset, hoping you’d come and save me from those boring classes, y'know..?" You'd sigh with a pout, tracing a manicured finger down his chest, while simultaneously taking his shirt off, leaving him in his boxers.

"Baby, I‘m right here, hm? I'll be your hero. We’ll be like.. batman and catwoman. And I‘ll save you—" He slurred and ranted, looking at you like a bad dog that might start drooling on you.

Forcing back your gag, you giggle.. probably a bit forced.. but he barely noticed. That’s when you decide to wrap your legs around his surprisingly slutty waist and roll him onto his back, so you could sit on top of him, hands splayed along his freckled chest.

"Yeah, baby, that’s how you wanna fuck today? You wanna be on top?" He looked up at you through his green orbs, lashes casting a shadow over his heat-flushed cheeks.

"Mhm, De. Just lay back and shut up.." You’d tell him, not knowing if you did because he was probably so stoned he couldn’t fuck, or if you wanted to see his stupid face, when he moaned, wanting him to stop talking and stop ruining your hot mood.

He just obeyed, smiling widely with that cocky grin of his, not minding at all that you took charge. "Ohh, I see, babe— I‘ll be good, don’t punish me now.."

Before you knew, your bra was discarded by one of his skilled hands and your shorts were tugged off of you. Your panties now hung by the frame on his bed, and his joint was lit again, hanging between his plump lips.

You push down his boxers, revealing his half hard cock, as you sit on his hips, feeling him jerk himself off slightly in front of your stomach.

"Babe, you’re so high, you can’t get it up—" You’d laugh at him, to which he just playfully nudged your panties with the tip of his dick.

"C'mon, pretty girl, don’t be mean.. pull 'em off 'n ride me, yeah? I’ll get hard in a moment.." He’d beg if you asked him nicely, but for now, he settled for these whiney comments.

"Yeah, that’s right, that’s riiight.." Dean praised, when you pushed your panties aside and slowly slid in the flushed crown of his cock to your glistening entrance, sinking down onto him with a gasp. Fuck a condom.

"Oh— Oh, fuck, baby! So biiiggg.." You whine, your nails digging half moons into the flesh of his shoulders, while he propped himself up and against the headboard. His free hand brought the joint to your lips, as his other settled on your ass, giving it a squeeze.

"Inhale, sweetheart, don’t cough, yeah? Come on, don’t cough.." He encouraged, making you moan, when the smoke made you dizzy.

With the joint between your lips, you leaned against him, feeling his meaty arms wrap around your waist, hugging you towards him, while his face buried into your tits, and he fucked up into you.

"Ah— De, don’t stop, don’t fucking stop, baby!" You weren’t aware that you subconsciously imitated some female pornstar right now, but Dean was getting off on it. Big time.

He was kissing all over your chest, holding you so close it might leave marks, as he whimpered against your bare skin, feeling your tits bounce in his face with every thrust he gave you from underneath.

So, you abandon the joint back in his ash tray, focusing on the pleasure of your own hand finding your clit, rubbing circles where his pre had already coated you.

Dean's hand moved back towards your ass, just to settle your pace, sniffling against you, while also giving you a slap across the cheek he had squeezed just now.

"Baby— baby.. fuck.. fuck! I'm coming— I'm gonna come, I can’t—" He whimpered, his lips wrapping around one of your tits, as his eyes squeezed shut, making your back arch and your stomach feel awfully tight.

He was by no means going to remember to pull out.. especially not in his pussy drunk state right now. He was so ready to take the risk and come inside, just for a few more moments of pleasure.

Though, since you didn’t exactly want to get pregnant by your stoner boyfriend, your last sense of responsibility made you hop off of him, letting him urgently fuck up into his fist and essentially nut against your stomach, leaving a pool of cum in your belly button.

He came with a spasm or two, his eyes fluttering, as his hand gripped the base of his throbbing dick, his lips parting, when oddly high-pitched moans escaped his throat.

His head was tipped back, face flushed, and his short, spiky hair all sweaty, as he gasped for air, his chest heaving. You'd collapse back on top of him, both of your bodies sticking together, when your face squished against his damp skin.

Letting your eyes blink open, you make eye contact again.. this time, not with a random man from his poster.. but the naked lady on the calendar he had hung up on his wall.. from around 2003. Romantic.

"De? You there?" You ask, wondering if he was passed out or just really fucked out.

"Babe.. I'm— Fuck, I'm recording this next time. You should’ve seen your tits—" He huffed.

Right.. sure. At least he was still breathing, though.

Sorry if this request is weird! I just thought I’d send one in since you were asking

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 ! ᴍᴅɴɪ 18+ ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

Thinking about boyfriendAU!Sam Winchester getting on his knees for his girlfriend, whenever she feels insecure!

Warnings: Almost none! insecurities, oral sex, emotional topics maybe?

(wc: ≈ 1k)

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

| The motel room was quiet, except for the occasional typing of Sam's long fingers against the keyboard of his laptop. He was researching, while you stood in the narrow bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror.

Undeniably pretty. Or at least in Sam's eyes. Not yours.

You looked at your reflection, watching your face closely, when tears pool up in your eyes. It’s not your fault. None of this is. And yet, you can’t help but pick at your acne, making your face look redder, puffier, and even bleed on a few spots. It was going to leave marks.

Just as you felt like the world was dawning on you, Sam heard you sniffling. Tall and broad frame appearing behind you, as you looked at your reflection, his hands on your hips, grounding you.

"Baby, what did you do? What’s wrong? Hey, you’re bleeding—" He whispered soothingly, yet his tone carried worry. He spun you around, wanting to face you, as he ran his thumbs under your teary eyes.

"I don’t know— I just.. I wish I didn’t look like this— I.. I’ve tried everything.. You probably think I‘m weird, right? Gross?" You’d remember what other said about you before.

'Have you tried washing your face?' Assholes.

"What are you saying, sweetheart? No— of course, not. You’re the prettiest girl I know.." Sam soothed, as he wrapped his arms around you, comfortingly rubbing your back, letting you hide your face against him, as he pressed kisses against the top of your head.

"You’re lying— You are, Sam! I don’t look good—" You sob against him.

And that’s when he decides to take matters into his own hands.

He picked you up, gently helping you wrap your legs around his waist, while he carried you over to the bed, and laid you down as carefully as he could.

Sam Winchester, the 6'4 tall man, dropped to his knees in front of you, and gently lifted your shirt, in order to press kisses to your stomach.

"Sammy, what are you doing..?" You’d ask, before he began unzipping your jeans, pulling them down to reveal your lace panties.

"Shh, don’t worry. I’ll show you just how much I love you, baby. This okay, right.?" He cooed, leaning down to press another kiss right against your clothed pussy, his nose nudging your clit deliciously. You nod.

Gently, he pulled them off of you, revealing your glistening cunt. He took his time, carefully kissing over your inner thighs, parting them, as he dipped his head between them, and dragged his flattened tongue along your cunt.

Slowly, he began lapping at your arousal, his eyes fluttering shut, as he let out filthy groans and almost whines that vibrated through your body.

"Oh— Sammy..!" You moan, as your hand came down to slightly tug on his shaggy hair, only spurring him on to eat you out even better.

"Mm.. baby, you’re so pretty. Best pussy I’ve ever had. Let me see you, sweetheart, don’t hide.." Sam praised you, as he began inserting two of his thick fingers into your weeping hole, curling them just at your g spot, hard enough to make your back arch off the bed.

"Ah—" Your voice echoed through the run down motel room.

"Good girl, taking it so well, baby.. Let me worship this pretty body. Let me see your pretty face, when you come.. Use my face, baby.." Sam reassured you, his puppy eyes looking at you as if you were the center of his entire world.

His fingers thrusted in and out of your cunt with gentleness yet incredible precision, as he sucked and lapped at your puffy clit, giving you mind blowing pleasure.

When you felt your orgasm approach, your thighs clamped around his head, as your fingers dug into his scalp. Not harshly, just like a massage.

He kneaded your hips and thighs, as he sped up a little, his hips slightly grinding against the frame of the bed, when he got lost in your taste. This man honestly got off on getting you off..

You came with such intense pleasure that you swore you saw stars for a moment, your body tensing as you rode out the waves of your orgasm, before eventually relaxing.

Sam could finally breathe, as your legs loosened around his head again.. but he looked happier than ever, as he watched your fucked out expression and the way frustration and insecurity had slowly left your body.

He pressed a final kiss to your clit, before looking up, arousal dripping from his chin and coating his lips and the tip of his sharp nose.

"Love you, pretty girl.." He told you, as he leaned over your body again and buried his face against your shoulder, just quietly laying with you and making you feel appreciated and loved.

In his eyes, you were the prettiest. Acne didn’t change that.

𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 ! ᴍᴅɴɪ 18+ ⋆. 𐙚

Thinking about depressed hunterAU!Dean Winchester meeting a random mysterious girl at a cemetery!

Warnings: no use of condom (irresponsible), mention of porn, mention of depression, indirect mention of schizophrenia, mention of death, cnc (question mark?), public sex, car sex, rough sex, mean Dean, graveyards, violence, guns, choking, mentions of necrophilia. Oops ㅤ♡

(wc: ≈ 1.7k)

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

| He would be on a hunt; the usual kind of business that he takes care of. It’s ugly work but it keeps him alive. It keeps him waking up in the morning, despite it being with a gun loaded in his calloused hand under his pillow.

Sam, his little brother, had left him months ago. Had run off to college to chase the dream life.

His father, John, was nowhere to be found.

Dean had no time to dream. He didn’t believe in dreaming, as nightmares kept him up. This line of work was slowly killing him, though he didn’t let himself rest. Probably won’t, not even in death.

——————————————————

This particular hunt happened to take place in a small town, where creepy things have been happening lately. A vengeful spirit. Or at least that’s what Dean believed he was looking for.

He found himself parking his beloved '96 Chevy Impala somewhere by the side-road of a dark forest. Looking around all paranoid and over his shoulder for any threats, the hunter made his way over to the trunk of his car, opening it in order to get the equipment he needed.

A sack of salt. The lighter he carried with him. His trusted handgun, a rifle, and a shovel.

He loaded his firearms with precision. No, aggression. It was anger in his every action. At himself, at the world, at the job. At Sam and his father. At everyone who had left him.

With his stuff gathered, he slammed the trunk of Baby shut with more power than it required, leaving the car to screech, as he walked off into the forest, where said cemetery should be located.

He was sick to his stomach, hadn’t eaten in days. But he kept moving, even as sweat trickled down his forehead in the October night's dampness. It felt stuffy, like he couldn’t quite fill a full lung of breath.

Dean reminded himself that it was this job that gave him a purpose. And if he died on it? So be it. He would die doing the only thing he knew and was good at.

——————————————————

His dreadful steps through the forest brought him to the graveyard, where he spent a few moments, searching for name he had researched the night before… instead of resting.

As he walked up to the grave, he set the bag of salt down, and grabbed his shovel, shrugging off his father’s leather jacket, before making the first dig.

That’s when an eerie voice echoed through the woods.

"What are you doing? Disturbing the dead?"

A female voice, he was sure. It sounded almost sultry, making him beginning to question his sanity. Was he imagining things? Probably the sleep deprivation catching up to him. Maybe he needed to stop watching porn. Or maybe it had been a while since he last got laid. He had to close his eyes and swallow the lump in his throat, before shouting out loud.

"Who the fuck are you? Huh?! …Listen, I'm gonna fuckin' shoot—" His voice cracked, his shallow breathing cut off his own sentence. This was so unlike him. Where was his stealth? His confidence and unflinching attitude that his daddy had taught him?

A girl emerged from the shadows as he cocked his gun at her outline, eyes never off his target, yet his arms beginning to quiver and shake. It wasn’t fear, no, he genuinely believed that he might be hallucinating.

Your voice was oddly soft when you spoke, taking a few steps closer towards him. "Gonna dig up someone’s grave in the middle of the night? Making space for a new corpse after you shoot me..?"

Dean's hands trembled on the gun. For a moment, he wondered if she was the actual spirit he was hunting. If he was starting to see things. Her voice was sending cold shivers down his back. Maybe she had come to haunt him for his lifestyle. For his guilt.

"Or maybe.. you prefer to take advantage of your victims beforehand?" You questioned with a giggle.

Dean's breathing picked up, his eyes widening before they hardened again. His time must have come, right? He would have to pay for his perverse thoughts and brutal ways. He didn’t fear death, but he feared the moment of judgment.

"Don’t look so scared. I was kidding!" You said, now standing in front of him completely, taking in his shaken form, the way he frowned but silently lowered his gun.

"What the fuck are you?" Dean questioned, short, scarred.

"Um.. a girl?" You answered, looking at him

like he might’ve just escaped the mental asylum, before you added. "Better question; what are you doing here?"

"None of your fuckin' business, you crazy bitch." Dean spat, his breathing heavy, coming out in short puffs of fog.

"Wow. Rude. I was just taking a walk.. y'know. Enjoying the silence, connecting with souls." You tell him, looking around yourself and at the graveyard, as his gaze locks onto you.

"Connecting with souls? The fuck?! You— You some kinda necromancer? Huh?" He replied, his voice coming off so gruffly, making you laugh to yourself.

"We've all got our secrets. What’s yours?" You deflect. Don’t answer. Like a puzzle for him to solve, luring him in when he was most vulnerable.

"Sweetheart, I ain’t got time for this shit. Either you tell me what the fuck this is about, or I shoot you on the spot." He told you threateningly, before muttering under his breath. "Wouldn’t be the first time I get my fuckin' hands dirty.."

"Well, come and find out.." You'd tease, not really thinking anything about it.

Something inside him snapped.

——————————————————

Before you knew, you were somewhere away from the graveyard and pressed against a sleek, black car. Somewhere on the side of the road. Your top was discarded and so was your bra, as you found yourself bent over the hood of that car. Your tits we’re squished between your own body's weight and the cold surface, as your jeans and panties pooled down at your ankles. Your legs wobbled in your boots.. but thankfully there was Dean, the guy from earlier, whose name you didn’t even know yet.

His belt was undone, his zipper too.. his boxers only pushed down to reveal his freckled thighs, as he freed his cock.

And, fuck, he needed to jerk himself off for a moment, in order to get hard. Hard enough to thrust into you.

Dean was going through heavy emotional turmoil, the kind of horrors and mental torture that left you scarred for life. He was so miserable, that he genuinely believed you were a spirit, coming to haunt and punish him for his bad choices. For his desperation in loneliness.

And despite his thoughts, despite believing you were a hallucination, he pumped his cock into his own fist, half-hard now. It was enough to line it with your glistening cunt.

One swipe. Two swipes. He gathered slickness for lube.

And then he thrusted in. Harsh. Dick buried snugly against your cervix, not giving you any time to adjust to his brutal eight inches.

"Ah— Oh, fuck—" You gasped loudly, enough to scare away some crows from the nearby forest. Enough to echo.

"Shut up— Shut the fuck up, when I'm fucking you—" Snapped the man behind you, as he gave you a smack against your ass, so hard he left a red handprint across your right cheek. Unexpectedly, he ripped your panties off of you, leaning over your arched spine to reach your face, as he shoved them into your mouth to successfully silence you with your own lace.

"Mmf— Mngh!" You'd whine, but he didn’t listen. He closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the feeling of thrusting his neglected cock into wet and warm walls, squeezing around him.

"Yeah, don’t fucking talk. Don’t moan. Don’t make a sound, ya crazy bitch— Wanted me to fuck you like this, hm? Hm?!" Dean was muttering to himself, not expecting an answer out of you but working himself up.

Your nails scraped down the hood of his black car and you could only hope that it was dark enough outside he didn’t notice. If he saw those scratch marks along his car? The only thing he had left in his deadbeat life? He would end you.

And yet, you blubber whines and gasps, mascara running down your face, because he felt so good. His dick was making your legs quiver and give up, as you felt your orgasm approach. To signal this, you smack the surface of the hood with your palm a few times, body tensing.

His rough hand came to press your cheek against the car, making you choke on your own moans and sobs, as your panties silenced you.

"Fuck— fuck, I'm coming— Look what you’re doing to me. Is this how I'm gonna fuckin' die? Huh? Are you gonna, ugh— Are you gonna haunt me? Punish me? For what?! Huh? For being a perv? For killing?!" He muttered under his breath, watching you shake your head.

Dean's head tipped back, when he came inside you, not caring to even pull out. He didn’t care about your orgasm either. Didn’t care if you had come or not. Spoiler: you had.

Once his cock softened inside you, he moved away, wiping his cum-stained dick onto your asscheek, before giving it another smack, and pulling his jeans back up. After that, he didn’t look at you.

Dean was convinced that this had been a hallucination. A test from some higher power. That you would haunt him all his life from this point on.. because, in his misery, he had given in to his lust.

His forehead was beaded with sweat, his nails carried dirt your skin's dna under them, his metal ring had left an imprint on your ass, and yet.. the scent of him breathing down your neck was the last thing you remember about him.

You don’t remember how you got home that night. Don’t have a memory of what happened after his cum was dripping out of your cunt. But Dean was sure that you'd find him again, one way or another.

Alive or in death.

I desperately need new ideas for fanfics, soo.. anything specific you guys wanna see? Literally, like, anything… but I'm not good with fluff or angst. Might as well request some smut, no matter how crazy! <3 (Btww I mostly write for Supernatural.. or maybe Soldier Boy)

𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐑 ! ᴍᴅɴɪ 18+ ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ (part 2!)

Thinking about normalAU!Dean Winchester in his late teens, being the popular slut around campus… except now the manwhore himself has got his eyes on someone after their infamous one night stand! (wink wink)

Warnings: no use of condom (irresponsible), one night stands, penetrative sex, alcohol, frat boys in general, mention of porn, mention of virginity, car sex, MANWHORES

(wc: ≈ 2k)

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| A few days passed since your last encounter.. though, the traces of that night had never quite left you alone.

'Just another one night stand to brag about.' That’s what you’d tell yourself over and over again, as you laid restlessly in your bed, tossing and turning, yet not getting rid of the thought of him. Him. Dean Winchester. The most popular slut on campus!

You'd be lying to yourself, if you said that it didn’t mean anything to you. That night had been mind blowing. Sinful. Corruption to your innocence. But to him? It probably didn’t mean anything. No, you knew it didn’t mean anything to him. Of course, it didn’t.

It never did with him. You had seen him in the halls the last few days and he hadn’t even looked at you. Damn Womanizer was too busy flirting with the blondie from his chemistry class to even notice you. After all, who were you? Some random Sophomore chic.

…Well, that was about to change!

On a hot afternoon in July, you flopped onto your bed, too bored and annoyed with the heat to do anything productive. That’s when he struck your mind again.

You'd lay on your back, as the golden sun shone through your colorful curtains, your skin damp, making your hair slightly stick to your forehead, when you felt your face heat up pink. At the mere thought of Dean, no less!

Before you could even question your almost perverse actions, your hands slid into your already slick panties, your thighs pressing together, as you fought back those obscene sounds you made, back when it was Dean's fingers instead of your own. You thought back on his touch, the cool metal of his rings against your thighs, as he parted them like he owned them. Just the memory alone made you rub your clit faster subconsciously. He truly had taken over your mind!

Just when you bit down against the back of your sweaty hand, successfully silencing your slutty sounds, though not the squelching of your cunt, you heard two voices coming from downstairs. Ugh! It was your older brother and.. undeniably Dean Winchester. You'd be able to tell that voice from miles away.. it was the same he had used, when he told you to ride his dick a few nights ago. So, what the fuck was he doing in your house?!

Oh, right. He was your brother’s friend.

Now, both sweaty and frustrated, due to your unfinished orgasm, you pull your panties and shorts back up, wiping your hand somewhere along your tank top that you prefer to wear without a bra. Duh, who actually liked wearing those?!

As you walk downstairs, your cheeks burn hot pink, when your eyes land on them; Dean laughing with your brother. Though, as soon as you tiptoed down the stairs, Dean's green eyes landed on you, his boyish pretty-boy grin still insufferable. Especially when you reminded yourself that he used it as his primary flirting technique.

"Hey, look who's finally graced us with her presence, hm? How're you doing, sexy?" He was shameless, calling you that in front of your own brother. Though, he held his hands up in surrender, laughing it off as a joke. "Don’t take it serious, man— I would never hit on your little sis, alright? She’s like family to me, I swear!" Dirty, dirty liar! She was anything but family to Dean. Not, when he had been eight inches deep inside her.

"Just wanted to.. get something to drink before heading out to my math tutoring.." You replied, trying to keep your voice casual, as if you hadn’t been fucking yourself to the thought of him just moments ago.

"Nerd." You'd hear him mutter under his breath. Just bullying you as per usual. So, you didn’t pay it any mind—or at least pretended not to mind it—walking to the fridge to get yourself a can of coke zero, duh?, as you felt his gaze linger on the back of your shorts for a little too long. It was practically burning into you.

Not knowing if you should be offended or aroused, you cracked the can open and took a sip.. just as Dean spoke up again. "Why don’t I drive the little nerd to her tutoring class myself? Would be better than letting her walk though this awful heat, huh?" He told your brother in a tone that made him seem almost worried for you. Concerned. This bastard was anything but that. He just wanted to get into your panties as quick as possible.

Before you could even finish your coke, Dean 'so considerately' ushered you out to his car.

A 1967 Chevy Impala. Baby. His baby.

Once you got inside and into the passenger's seat, he started driving, casually turning up the music.. Metallica, what else? Eugh, how romantic. His caring act wore off just as fast as the car raced down the streets.

"How do you even know where to drive, De?" You question him, just to be bitchy. Since, yes, he pissed you off.. treating you like just another one night stand.

"Oh, sweetheart, after I heard your fuckin' moans upstairs? You’re skipping tutoring today, baby." He‘d tell you with a voice that could only be described as smug. Cocky even.

Your memories of the night blurred with the earlier moments of your arousal.. and before you knew, the car was parked in an empty diner parking lot. Trashy asshole.

Your tank top was discarded, your bare back laying against the sleek leather of his car, as he climbed on top of you, equally shirtless, though with his necklace dangling in your face. Those hands you thought about now fondled your tits again, happy that you hadn’t been wearing a bra to begin with.

"Shh, baby, you’re thinking again. What did I tell you about thinking? Hm? Ya look much better when you’re all dumb from my cock.." He told you.. and you moaned. Filthy so.

As for your panties? A quick glance to your left and you saw the lace hanging by the mirror of his windshield. Pervert.

Still, watching his veiny hands undo his jeans made you even wetter.. if that was even humanly possible. "Fuck, De— What if somebody sees us?" You’d ask anxiously, watching him get rid of his jeans.

"Let them fuckin' see, baby. You didn’t wanna be just another quick fuck, huh? Then let people see who owns this pussy, hm?" He cooed against your ear, before leaning up and crouching in front of you, just to spit onto your already glistening cunt, and give your clit a few circles with the pad of his thumb.

He pulled his dick out of his boxers, already leaking with pre. Fuck, you couldn’t deny that the sight made you dizzy, even for a second time. It was a truly erotic sight, watching him casually look down on his dick, pumping it with a few strokes, before running the tip along your slit to gather both of your arousal and use it as lube.

"Ah— Oh! Fuck! Fuck!" You moaned, when he pushed in, knowing that you could finally let out all those sounds, all those perverted thoughts about him. The ones that had been keeping you up at night. Keeping you with your hands between your thighs.

Dean had thrusted his whole eight inches inside you with no sympathy for you cunt in any way, bottoming out, when he steadied himself on his forearms back on top of you.

"Yeah, c'mon, baby.. c'mon, keep giving me these sweet sounds. Gimme something to work with here.." He'd encourage you, his green eyes fluttering shut in pleasure, as he rocked in and out of you, assaulting your guts so casually. He solely focused on your sounds.. and you’d bet real money that, even for a moment, he tried to imagine you were one of those pornstars he liked to jerk off to.

So, you moaned. You dug your nails into the muscles of his back, leaving half-moons and scratches, groaned, whined.. did everything that those women would do. "Ah! Ngh— Dean, oh, you’re so big! Don’t stop, baby!"

Baby. You had called him 'baby' just for the sake of authenticity. And you swore you felt his hips stutter for a moment, thrusts growing uneven and rushed, a whiney moan leaving his unfairly plush lips.

His hips rutted into you like there was no tomorrow, his eyes now squeezing shut, as his arms hugged around you, and his damp forehead rested onto your collarbone. Your legs wrapped around his slutty waist, pulling him in closer with his dick snug against your cervix, as his balls slapped against your wet flesh with every movement.

"Keep talking, pretty. Gimme some more, hm? 'M so close— So.. so fuckin' close. You gonna come, baby? Hm? For me?" He egged you on, his voice cracking the slightest bit, making him sound more desperate than he'd like to admit.

"Coming, De—" You almost screamed, your body's heat tangling with his, as you shared breaths in short puffs, the windows of the car tinted and foggy, leather smelling like sex.

"I know, baby, I know—" He reassured halfheartedly, as he pulled out in one swift movement and jerked himself off and onto your stomach, his cum pooling in your belly button, as your hand came down to eagerly rub your clit, making both of you reach your orgasm at the same time.

Your sounds had been nothing short of eroticism, leaving him to collapse on top of you, as you both caught your breaths. The air smelled like leather and sex, the remains of your arousal dripping onto his car's seats, as your sweaty and damp bodies laid together in the stuffy backseat. Your panties dangled from his rearview mirror like a trophy. And you were pretty sure that he would keep those right there.

As your regained consciousness, he lifted his spiky, dirty-blonde head to press a kiss against your forehead, his hand cupping your flushed pink cheek.

"Your brother is gonna kill me if he ever finds out. But, shit, baby.. you’re worth every risk, aren’t you?" He'd ask you, making you chuckle, as you two laid together for another few minutes.. his music still playing faintly in the background.

Usually, guys like him didn’t linger. Didn’t stay close, didn’t press lazy kisses to your skin after sex. Though his thumb brushed against your cheek, slower now, quieter, he actually began to see you. Actually see you.

It didn’t last. It never did with guys like him.

Still.. maybe you were not just another one night stand to brag about.

𝐖𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐑 ! ᴍᴅɴɪ 18+ ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

Thinking about normalAU!Dean Winchester in his late teens, being the popular slut around campus!

Warnings: no use of condom (irresponsible), oral sex, one night stands, penetrative sex, alcohol, frat boys in general, mention of porn, mention of virginity, MANWHORES! ㅤ♡

(wc: ≈ 2k)

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

| He would be going to Highschool, not because he truly cared about his grades but mostly because his alcoholic father forced him to, after his mother died, just to regain some sort of normality in his son’s life. That being said, his GPA was low enough to.. not only scare away his teachers.. but also any chances of getting into any university at all.

His little brother, Sammy, was a Freshman, while Dean was soon to be a Senior. Rumours said that Dean might have had a hookup or two with some cute cheerleaders from his little brother's Biology class, but he never seemed to pay any mind to it. He was smug enough to brush those comments off with a flash of his pretty-boy grin.

Since Dean wasn’t exactly an academical weapon, he settled for being popular. A manwhore. Community dick. The one and only Frat President. Because, if grades didn’t work in his favor, girls and sports might get the job done!

——————————————————

It was a Friday night; a loud party taking place in whatever frat house Dean had managed to get in and suddenly take over. Loud music, red cups for beer-pong, drunk girls, and sloppy sex everywhere. Reasonably fun. Among the many people—since everybody and their mother was invited—were you. Currently tipsy, drunk off of a few shots, nothing crazy.

You'd known Dean for a while, had seen him around campus before. Of course, everybody had seen his perfectly fuckable face. Yet, you've only talked to him once, due to your older brother, who was in his History class. ..Although it had been a pretty short and awkward conversation. A mere exchange of 'hi's and you trying to come across as cool and mature, when your palms were sweaty and you felt your stomach flutter.

Time passed and, as you leaned against a massive beer keg, you could see Dean coming downstairs.. his short, dirty-blonde hair all spiky and ruffled, his face flushed, and his belt was missing a loop through his bowlegged jeans. He looked freshly fucked.

To your own surprise, he walked up to you, greeting you with his stupidly charming smile. "Hey, babe, where’s your brother at?" 'Babe'. He called you 'Babe'?! Probably because he called every other bitch nicknames..

"..Don’t know. Probably throwing up. Or making out." You reply, as you feel your whole body almost shiver, when he laughs at your comment. You felt like such a loser, but a second of attention from a guy like Dean was enough to make you go red.

This conversation started off so innocently!

——————————————————

Lights blurred and the music became fainter, when you regained consciousness of what you were doing. Before you could question if it was a dream or not, you found yourself moaning, sounds spilling from your lips in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Dean’s hands were on your hips, squeezing at the flesh, poking at your stomach, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver with slight goosebumps, back arching off the random bed you'd ended up in.

Your shorts were discarded by the side of the bed, panties somewhere in the pocket of his jeans. What a perv.

His mouth was filthy, tasted like alcohol and sin, as he sucked and lapped at your weeping cunt, obscene sounds filling the room, when he inserted two thick fingers into your hole. You weren’t the first tonight—you had to remind yourself—before you fell in love. He seemed to have noticed your overthinking, when you heard him mutter some words between the motions of his tongue against your clit. "Don’t think, baby.. don’t look pretty, when you think.." At the time time, he was basically rutting his hips against the mattress of the bed.

So, against your better judgment, you let yourself go. Moans, gasps, and whines blended in with the music blasting downstairs, when Dean urged you on. "Come for me, pretty girl. C'mon.. wanna feel you come on my face." And you did! Your orgasm was mind-blowing, Dean's fingers pumping in and out of your dripping hole, fucking you through it, as his nose nudged your clit deliciously, making your back arch off of the navy blue sheets of the bed, eyes rolling back with filthy whines escaping your choked up throat, when you were grinding against his freckled face.

And to think that you'd called yourself a virgin before this day. Now you were anything but. "So fucking hot, baby.. almost came in my pants. Shit, you’re dripping.. don’t even make it seem like you’re inexperienced. I’ve seen Seniors fuck worse—" That’s what Dean told you, maybe to encourage you, as he undid his belt again. For the God-knows-how-many time tonight.

His dick sprung free, when he pulled down his boxers, stained with pre. His tip was flushed pink and leaking, shaft curving upward, almost slapping against the trail of dark blonde hair along his stomach. Every vein was visible along the flesh of his dick, as he gave it a few strokes, sucking his plush bottom lip between his teeth. The sight made you almost salivate.

"You ready for this, baby? Gonna take it like a good girl? Hm? Talk to me, sweetheart."

"Yeah.. wanna take all of it, De. But— you’re gonna have to pull out.."

"Don’t worry your pretty head about that. I'll pull out alright." He reassured you halfheartedly with a smug grin, as he settled on top of you, brushing his tip along your slit to gather the lube of his pre and your arousal, in order to push in.

The first inch was brutal. He was thick! Impalement! Your nails dug half-moons into the firm muscles of his back, moaning into his shoulder. "F-fuck— De, s'really big.."

"I know, pretty. That’s what all of 'em say." And he said it so smugly, you felt yourself clench around his dick, as he pushed in further. You took inch by inch, up-up-up!, whole eight inches into your cunt, until you swore you felt him against your cervix. Your legs wrapped around his slutty waist, as he gave a testing thrust, his hips connecting with the back of your thighs.

"Ah— Mngh! De-Fuck! Ngh—!" Your sounds were obscene, mixing with the squelching of your dripping cunt, the more he pounded into you. And Dean was eating it right up. His lips connected with your jaw, his green eyes fluttering shut, almost as if imagining that he was banging one of those porn-ladies he adored so much. Can’t judge a guy for learning his techniques from professionals!

His stamina was admirable but, since he was captured by your erotic sounds, he flipped both of you over, with you landing directly on top of him.. his dick digging even deeper into your poor guts. He wanted you in the filthiest and most pornographic ways. Sigh, horny teenage guys…

"Ah!" — erupted through the room.

"Shh— I know, baby. C'mon, ride it like I know you can. Be a good girl and ride it f'me, yeah? Wanna see your tits bounce, when you do.." He told you, as he fondled your breasts casually. Too casually. Womanizer!

When you begin riding his dick, his forearm rested behind his dirty blonde head, just laying back and watching you do all the work, as if this was just another day for him. Just another fuck. He kept one hand on your hips though, just to set the pace.

Once he heard you whimper and moan that couldn’t handle it anymore, he hushed you. "Shh, pretty girl. Stop whining so much, would'ya? Here, let me help you, hm?" And that’s when he pulled you down to lay against his chest, your head falling against his shoulder, when his freckled arms wrapped around you, and he started fucking up into your cunt.

The sounds his movements created were obscene; his balls slapping against your soaked skin, as his hips bucked up and into your cunt, making your body clench entirely in pleasure. "Close— Dean! Ngh— Gotta.. pull out!" You'd whine, just moments later. The mere possibility of getting pregnant from a one night stand with the school's manwhore was terrifying. Especially for your innocent image..

"Fuck, baby, gonna let me come on your tits? Gonna let me paint 'em white for you, hm? Hm?" Dean urged, as he pulled out his flushed red dick and jerked himself off and onto your stomach. His movements were frantic but purposeful, his balls drawing up tight with his impending high. His orgasm was intense enough to spill even across your chest, coating your tits in hot, sticky cum, as his green eyes were squeezed shut, pleasure overtaking his every sense. You swore you heard him whimper too..

Both of you came, since, although Dean had pulled out—thankfully—the sight of him as he came, mixed with your own hand, rubbing your clit, made you come a second time and collapse against him.

Out of breath and damp with sweat, you both laid together in some random bed, the party downstairs still ongoing, music blasting, as the air between you, your shared breaths, smelled like sex. Maybe it was now, that he began to notice you.. his friend's little sister. Or some stupid Sophomore chic.

Just another one night stand to brag about.