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first two posts i made were a dud maybe 3rd time is the charm πͺ here is the discord invite for the off campus group chat !!! if you donβt have a discord account, itβs super easy to make and it doesnβt cost anything! i hope to see you in there ! π (you must be 18+ to join!)
Hi! I love your Dean x Beau x reader fics so so much!
I know theyβre all smutty so idk if you'd be open to this... but I really want some soft fluffy caring boys. I'm thinking reader gets the flu and the boys show up for a spicy night but find out she's not feeling well. She tries to protest their help because she doesn't want them to get sick but they insist and eventually she ends up sleeping literally on top of one of them while the other cuddles up next to them. Maybe making some soup and wiping a cool washcloth across her face.... just fluffy things! If you'd like to.... π₯Ί
honestly this is such a cute ask i love it! sometimes we need a classic 'taking care of reader when sick' so i'm very happy to write it for you.
i hope it's what you expected, you can head it here
βοΈ Warnings: not proofread & idk my tenses
βοΈ Pairing: Dean Di Laurentis x F!Reader x Beau Maxwell
βοΈ Rating: PG
βοΈ Words: 2760
βοΈ AN: Written for this lovely anon, i hope you enjoyed, i actually cannot remember the last time i was sick so please ignore the creative liberties i have taken lmao
Beau (established relationship) & Dean (no labels) look after you when sick
It started as a blocked nose. Every time you breathed in, you only managed to pull in a uselessly frustrating amount of air. No matter how much your nose ran or your head began to pound, you absolutely refused to believe you were sick.
It was a reality you firmly elected to ignore.
The denial became harder to maintain when the next day, it developed into a sharp pain at the back of your throat. Every swallow felt like you had deepthroated some sandpaper. You kept deliberately swallowing, desperately testing to see if the pain would just disappear. It didnβt.
Still, you refused to give in. Delusion had to carry you through as surely the universe wouldnβt align like this.
You had plans, very hot and sweaty plans, with your boyfriend and Dean, who didnβt have a label because what do you call the man who you and your boyfriend would spend many a night with and were most definitely falling for.
So, no, you werenβt sick because you just couldnβt be.
By day three, reality was quickly catching up to you. You were half-way through your morning lectures when suddenly you were seeing double of your lecturer. In your mind, Beau & Dean would still be able to come over tonight, you just needed a heavy nap. You refused to be the sole reason that everybody had to stay clothed.
Packing up early, you abandoned the rest of your lectures and slipped back to your apartment, determined to sleep it off.
Your body, however, had other plans. By the time you unlocked your door, you were so dizzy that you had to steady yourself on the wall as you stumbled into the bedroom. You had just enough energy to pull off the clothes youβd been in that had hit the lecture room air.
With a heavy thud, you collapsed onto the mattress. The tissue box on your bedside table became your lifeline, they were on rotation. One snotty tissue out and the next one immediately in.
Shakily, you reached for your phone, fully intending on admitting defeat and messaging Beau. You donβt remember how you drifted off, but the sound of a distant door slam jumped you out of your sleep hours later.
As you rolled over to face the bedroom door, the entire room span around you. The sleep had done nothing for you, in fact, you woke up feeling worse. Your head was pounding and, clearly, youβd been breathing through your mouth as it was dry, your tongue feeling thick in your mouth.
βBabe?β Beau called from the hallway, his footsteps getting louder as he approached the bedroom. βAre you okay? Youβve been silent all day, thatβs not likeβ.β
His voice died as he rounded the corner into your bedroom. You watched as his bright smile instantly faded into pure concern.
βDonβt come any closer,β you croaked, your voice raw from how dry your throat was. βIβm really sick.β
Completely ignoring your ask, Beau pulled off his jacket and threw it onto your desk chair. βYou say that like itβs going to stop me.β
He crossed the room in two long strides, sinking to his knees on the side of the bed. A cold palm was pressed against your forehead as Beau took you on. βOh, baby, youβre burning up.β
Despite you wanting him to leave, you pressed your head into him, sighing with relief when his other hand came to your cheek.
βBeau, go, Iβm probably contagious and itβs a bio-hazard in here,β you grumbled. Your arm felt like it weighed a tonne as you weakly lifted it to gesture toward the pile of tissues youβd discarded onto the floor.
Beau looked down at the mess on the floor, as if he hadnβt even noticed in when he walked in. Your heart squeezed with a mixture of shame and appreciation when you realised there wasnβt a single hint of judgement on his face. The past few days had taken a toll on you and your room bared the brunt of that.
Beau stood up and began cleaning up your room. He gathered the snotty tissues from the ground but didnβt stop there; he organised the books on your desk and wiped down the messy surface.
Picking up the clothes you had discarded, he tossed them into the laundry basket. Seeing that it was full; he disappeared with it down the hall, and soon you heard the washing machine click to life.
You drifted in and out of sleep as he worked, cleaning and putting things away as he saw them. He knew you would have been restless knowing that things were untidy, even if you didnβt have the energy to do it yourself. You felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude for having someone like him.
When Beau returned to your room, he was carrying a fresh washcloth and a tall glass of water. Kneeling on the floor by the bed, he gently slipped an arm behind your head to help you sit up a little. The water felt so satisfying as it ran down your throat, soothing the fire there.
Once finished, he gently guided you back to lying. He unfolded the damp cloth and gently pressed it to your sweaty forehead. You hadnβt realised how badly you needed that until he was pressing it against you.
βCan you text Dean?β You looked up into his eyes, theyβre gentle as always. βTell him Iβm sorry for ruining tonight?β
βHe wonβt care about that,β Beau murmured softly. He stayed in front of you on the floor, patiently wiping your neck with the cloth. And when your nose ran, he used the tissue to wipe that too.
βTell me about your day, missed you,β you slurred.
His laugh was soft but he told you about his day. The soothing sound of his voice and how he wiped you down until the cloth was no longer damp acted as a sedative, it pulled you into another sleep without you even realising your eyes were closing. Β
When your eyes finally opened again hours later, the room had gone completely dark save for the warm light coming from the hallway. Beau was no longer knelt in front of you. You gave a discontented mumble, slowly rolling to get your bearings, careful to avoid moving your pounding head too much.
βHey there, sleepy.β
Arms came to wrap around you from the bed, but the voice hadnβt come from there. You blinked against the shadows, tired eyes straining to see the figure in front of you. βDean?β you whispered, your brows furrowing in confusion.
He was sitting in the desk chair, leaning back very comfortably.
The way Dean said your name back to you had your heart skipping a beat. You hadnβt expected him to be here when you woke up. Of course you cared for Dean, you loved the wicked things that he did with you and Beau in the dark, but this was territory you hadnβt crossed before.
He had never seen you look this snooty, miserable, or unglamorous. You didnβt like how vulnerable you felt at that moment, how your mind wondered if heβd still find you attractive if he saw you at your, arguably, worst.
Standing up, Dean came to sit on the edge of the mattress next to you. He didnβt look at you like he was uncomfortable or seeing a side to you he didnβt like. He simply gave you a soft smile and began pressing the cool washcloth over your face, wiping away the fresh layer of sweat that was a mixture of fever and the furnace that Beau was next to you.
He then reached over, popped open the lid of the Vaseline that was on your bedside table, and used the pad of his thumb to spread it over your chapped lips.
βWhat are you doing here?β
βBeau texted me,β he explained softly. βSaid our girl was out of action.β
βYou shouldnβt be here,β you protested weakly. You wiggled in Beauβs hold as he stirred beside you. βYou both shouldnβt be. Iβm gross and youβre going to get sick.β
βYouβre not gross, youβre beautiful,β Beau mumbled, voice gravelly with sleep.
βI can be both,β you said defiantly.
βHere,β Dean said, ignoring your protest as he picked up the glass of water to offer it to you again. It was warmer than when Beau had given it to you, but still deeply needed. He held it to your lips, forcing you to take a few small sips.
βI think Iβm fine now, you both should go.β You werenβt fine. Every move you made hurt. Your throat was burning and your teeth was beginning to hurt. Your muscles felt like they needed a good stretch.
Dean let out a soft huff, fingers brushing your face. βIβm not going to be present only for the good times, you know. Iβm here for it all. Youβre sick, so we take care of you.β
It all sounded so amazingly simple when it came from his mouth, but your fever ridden bran kept thinking about getting them sick. They were in varsity; they couldnβt afford to be knocked out by the thing that you knew would claim you for days. They had training sessions to attend, strict schedules to keep, fans they couldnβt disappoint, probably scouts that would watch them play their respective sports. It was a lot of pressure and you couldnβt be the reason they missed a game.
The hours of sleep youβd had did nothing to restore your strength, but that didnβt stop you from trying to argue. βBut Iβ.β
βDo you really want to use the little bit of energy you have left arguing with us?β Dean interrupted.
βYes.β You immediately responded, a weak grin on your face.
βAll in favour of us staying and taking care of our girl?β
Both Dean and Beau raised their hands, shouting and very rehearsed sounding, βAye!β
βLooks like you were outvoted. Sorry.β Dean does not sound the least bit sorry.
βThatβs not fair,β you whined. βHave you no shame, ganging up on a girl when sheβs vulnerable?β
Beside you, Beau laughed, a chuckle that vibrated through your body. He leaned forward to press a kiss to your neck, βBrat.β
As if on cue, a harsh cough ripped out of your chest. Then your nose began to run. You body really was being your own worst enemy. You pressed your eyes closed, willing the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole.
βJust leave me here, the death will come swifty.β With how you were feeling, it wasnβt the least bit dramatic a thing to say.
Dean laughed, the sound rumbling into the quiet room as Beau chuckled beside you.
βItβs a hard no on that one, but thank you for the suggestion. Weβre going to take care of you, starting with me making you some soup.β
You opened one eye, looking at him sceptically. βOh, so you do want me to die.β
Dean had the audacity to look offended, scoffing and placing a hand over his chest as if the last time he attempted to cook didnβt nearly give you all food poisoning. Β
Beauβs arms tightened around you. βI will do the cooking,β Beau intervened smoothly, pressing another kiss to your neck. βDean will do the supervising.β
βHey, I resent the implication that all Iβm good for is standing there and looking pretty,β Dean defended himself, tossing the washcloth onto the bedside table.
You rolled your eyes and scoffed; entirely certain that Beau was doing the exact same thing.
With a reluctant groan, Beau unravelled his arms from around you and slid out from under the duvet.
The bright light of the hallway flooded in as Beau left the room. You instantly closed your eyes to avoid the harsh glare. The moment the door clicked shut, you blinked them again, fumbling weakly toward the bedside table for the new tissue box that Dean had brought.
Dean beat you to it, smoothly pulling a tissue free and leaning across the mattress to help you clen up with an unbothered hand.
βGross,β you whispered, cheeks burning from more than just the fever.
βFirstly, grow up,β he teased gently, his eyes crinkling at the corners. βSecondly, trust me, you have no idea what gross is until youβve spent a season in a menβs locker room.β He set the used tissue aside.
Reaching over, Dean clicked on the small lamp you had on the bedside table, bathing the room in a soft glow. It made his face look so warm. βLetβs get you to sit up, Beau will be back soon.β
He slid his hands under your arms, his touch careful as he helped you to sit. He plumped up the pillows behind your back to keep you comfortable. You leaned back wit a soft sigh, the physical effort making your head swim just a little.
Dean stayed next to you as you heard Beau working in the kitchen. He sat on the edge of the bed, tracing gentle patterns over your knuckles. For a while, you just talked. You fever ridden brain had your thoughts going crazy. You told him how you felt guilty about ruining the night and that you didnβt want to ruin the season for either of them. Dean, of course, told you you were being ridiculous. They wouldnβt choose anything over being here with you.
It wasnβt long before the rich aroma of chicken broth began to drift into the bedroom, making your mouth water despite your lack of appetite.
The soft click of the door came not too soon after. Beau walked in carrying a tray, carefully balancing the streaming bowl of warm chicken broth, another glass of ice-cold water, and a small bottle of medicine.
He set it down on the bedside table before moving the pillows you were popped up against to replace them with himself. He sat with his back propped against the headboard. Dean helped as Beau pulled you into his lap, rearranging you so your legs were hanging off of the bed and your head was tucked into his neck.
You grumbled. Beau began rubbing slow soothing circles into your back, putting pressure on the right points to have the muscles relaxing slightly. βI know, my love. Take some medicine first.β
Dean handed you with some medicine and you swallowed it with the glass of water.
Once you finished with your glass, Dean reached for the bowl of broth. He sat beside you both and gently blew on the spoonful to cool it down before bringing it to your mouth.
βDean, you really donβt need to feed me,β you said.
βLet us have this,β Beau whispered against your ear, he continued rubbing perfect circles into your back. βJust relax and let us take care of you.β
There was no real point in arguing, you didnβt hate that you didnβt have to make much effort when there were two athletes more than willing to do this for you. Dean fed you a few more spoonfuls before you pulled back, shaking your head. You had managed about half the bowl, and you couldnβt do anymore.
Dean set it back onto the bedside table.
βYou did well,β Beau said.
βBetter?β Dean asked, his voice a low murmur.
βMuch better,β you breathed, your eyelids already growing heavy again.
βGood, letβs put something to distract you while the meds kick in.β
10 minutes later, the three of you were sitting against the headboard watching one of your comfort movies on your laptop. You were sat in between them, both having a hand on you in different ways.
Slowly, the weigt of the medicine kicking in took over. Your head began to droop, eyes shutting for longer and longer periods until you could barely open them at all.
Sensing your exhaustion, Beau slid down the bed until he was on his back, brining you with him. Sleepily, you crawled completely on top of him, your body sprawling over his. Your cheek rested over his heart, the sound soothing you to sleep easily.
Dean reached over to close the laptop, setting it on the floor before sliding back under the duvet. He scooted closer to where you and Beau were, draping a large, heavy, arm over your back.
βWeβre definitely catching this flu, you know,β Beau chuckled quietly, his chest vibrating beneath you.
βLikely,β Dean murmured back, his eyes blinking shut as he rested his chin near Beauβs shoulder. βWorth it, though.β
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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β warnings β smut with no plot, oral (fem receiving), dirty talk, dean being a man starved for your pussyyyyy. no seriously i mean this man cannot get enough of you. use of the word βcuntβ (my writing, not dean saying it or anything). not proofread! (0.8k words)
β authors note β i hope you guys like this! please let me know your thoughts, reblogs and comments are so helpful and motivating! requests are open for dean as of now <3
the air was thick with smell of sweat and your arousal. deanβs large hands were holding your hips down harshly as his tongue lapped relentlessly at your aching cunt. he had been at this for thirty minutes and there was no sign of him stopping anytime soon. youβd already came twice, but dean didnβt care, he wanted more. the man couldnβt get enough of you. the way you tasted, the way you smeltβ¦ fuck, it drove him mad.
βdeanβ¦β you whimpered, your fingers sliding into the mop of blonde hair. his nose nudged your pelvis as he sucked your clit into his mouth, a groan escaping his lips and vibrating your core. βthatβs it, baby. just let me take care of my girl.β dean mumbled against your clit, tongue messily and lazily licking at your hole. the sounds that filled the room were absolute filth. dean forced your hips deeper into the mattress, holding you in place so he could properly devour you without you trying squirm around too much.
ββs too muchβ¦β you whined, your hand fisting in his hair, your back arching off the mattress. you were sticky with sweat, breath still shaky from previous orgasms. deanβs blue eyes met yours from where he was between your thighs, his mouth still latched onto you. his brows furrowed. βtoo much? sweetheart, iβm just getting started.β just getting started? was he crazy? what part of this was just β but your thought process was cut short when deanβs tongue plunged inside you. your eyes rolled back, your jaw falling slack.
βthere it is.β dean grinned, sucking sweetly at your clit while his tongue thrust in and out of you, your pussy quivering around him. βjust let me eat, βm hungry.β he murmured, closing his eyes. his cheeks, chin, and lips were drenched with you, your arousal dripping down his chin. βdean, stop.β you gasped, but you didnβt really mean it. the pleasure was just too much for you to handle. βdidnβt anyone ever teach you itβs rude to disrupt someoneβs meal?β dean groaned between your thighs. his massive, muscular arms wrapping around your thighs, practically gluing you to him.
heβd make you cum several more times before deciding he was finally done and let you relax. but donβt get too comfortable because just a few hours later, heβs wanting more. βplease, baby.β his bottom lip stuck out in a pout, giving you his best puppy dog eyes. you hated when he did that, you literally couldnβt tell him no. and god, he looked so hot like that too. heβd smile triumphantly, grabbing your thighs as he laid down on his back, this time bringing you to him so that youβre straddling his face.
his large hands gripping your hips would gently guide you to lower your hips, bringing your already soaked pussy directly to his mouth. dean looked up at you, knowing that seeing him like this between your thighs drove you crazy. your eyes fluttered shut, breath hitching as deans warm mouth covers your cunt. your stomach tensed from the immediate pleasure, hands finding his hair to hold on.
βyou taste so good, princess. like heaven.β dean moaned between your legs. fuck, he was too good at this. your hips started rocking against his mouth, your entire body warm and fuzzy with pleasure. βfuck yeah, ride my face, baby.β dean groaned against your pussy, his tongue circling your clit as his fingers spread your lips open further. his hands slid up to your tummy, just wanting to feel your skin beneath his palms. his hands eventually moved up to your breasts, his fingers finding your nipples, pinching and rolling the hard peaks, the pleasure making you buck your hips against his face. βcouldnβt believe you made me wait this long to eat again.β dean practically pouted between your legs. made himβ¦ wait?! it had only been a few hours since the last time he ate you out, this man was fucking insatiable.
βi know, you poor baby.β you moaned, your head falling back as his tongue flicked against your clit over and over again. his hand landed a sharp smack to your ass, causing you to yelp. the sting of the slap melted into pleasure, your hips twitching against his face. βdonβt talk back to me; donβt act like you donβt love this. you love knowing how obsessed i am with you and the way you taste.β and it was true. you loved knowing how obsessed dean was with you and eating your pussy.
within minutes, your vision was blurring, your toes curling as you desperately fucked deanβs face, chasing your orgasm over the edge. a loud cry of pleasure ripped from your throat as you came hard, dean greedily swallowing every last drop of you. you rolled off his face, dropping down onto the bed completely spent and breathing heavily as you attempted to recover. βyou did so good for me, baby.β dean praised softly, wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand and leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder. βiβm already thinking about my breakfast in the morning.β he smirked. fuck me.
βοΈ Warnings: NSFW, oral (f! recieving), smut, alcohol, not proofread
βοΈ Pairing: fem!Reader x Dean di Laurentis
βοΈ Rating: 18+, MDNI
βοΈ Words: 2864
βοΈ AN: I love this man. I need this man. That is all. Finished this one whilst I was very sleepy so very sorry for any mistakes. Please let me know if you like it! x
cr: hlfaheart for the header πΉ
Dean doesn't live his life with regrets. Decisions of the past were taken for a reason, so stand by them.
Past Dean is an idiot, he's decided. Past Dean is the reason he's stood in the corner of a party, rather than at the centre, hand tightening around the long turned warm can of beer.
Past Dean is the reason he's stood watching you at the bar, so brazenly lean towards the man in front of you. Your mouth brushes the man's ear as you whisper something to him.
Past Dean is the reason his stomach tightens as you throw your head back in laughter at whatever the man, who's not him, responded to you. He couldn't possibly be that funny.
Past Dean should have never agreed when you'd implied that this was just sex, a fling, something he didn't need to remain exclusive for. To be fair, he was balls deep in you at the time. You were clenched around him in that way that made his mind go numb. If he'd had the ability to think, he would have told you absolutely not, flipped you over, and fucked you so right you would have given up the ridiculous notion that this could be anything but an emotional, exclusive thing.
But he hadn't and now he's living with a regret. He's living with a hammering in his chest and pit in his stomach every time he sees you even breathe near someone that could be your type. He's never been the jealous type, but here he stands, unable to tear his eyes away from watching you allow a man, that's not him, to leave lingering touches.
He doesn't blame the man for being so caught up in you. You were a flame. You danced like nobody was watching (even though you knew everybody was watching you).
He doesn't even blame you. You can't help but be magnetic.
He blames himself.
He blames the time he wasted. Yeah, sure, in the beginning it was just a fling. By now, it was hard to think of the life you had built together as just a fling. The hours spend on late night drives around the campus, the endless texting, the way you calmed his nerves before a big game, the sweaty sex, the way you had taken the impromptu run in with his family in the Hamptons house in stride... you were meant to be in his life.
Dean's vision of you is blurred as a hand waves across his face.
"Dude, stop starting, it's getting creepy."
Dean knows Beau's just being polite. He's been staring long enough that it's way past creepy, has he even blinked?
Dean takes the shot that Beau hands out to him, downing it immediately. The alcohol burns in the best way, giving his stomach a feeling other than hollowness. Beau hands him one more shot. "Down that then go get your girl!"
Dean looks at him in shock. He thought you guys had been discrete.
"I have eyes and I'm not an idiot. I've been trapped in a car with you both. Don't insult my emotional intelligence here," Beau says, his eyes soft as he sees the torment his best friend is going through.
Dean's face begins to heat. "Then I'm sure you've seen how one-sided this is. She's not my girl," he snaps, instantly feeling bad. Beau doesn't deserve his attitude. Great, another regret.
Beau moves to stand in front of Dean, blocking his line of sight to you. "Look here," Beau commands, pointing to his eyes with his index and middle finger in a V shape.
"She. like. you." Beau speaks as if he's talking to a child who doesn't understand complex speech.
"She likes me so much she's spent all night flirting with some random."
"She. make. you. jealous."
Dean ponders that for a minute. It would make sense; he had caught your eyes flicking over to him occasionally. He had noticed that you'd flirt harder with the man once you knew he was still watching.
Dean chuckles to himself. Clearly you knew just how wrapped around your finger he was and was taking full advantage of it.
"I love you," Dean says, grabbing hold of Beau's face and kissing him on the forehead, "Genuis."
Dean dances his way over to you, arms raised and body swaying to the music.
He approaches and a self-satisfied smile plays on your lips. You eye him like a fisherman that's caught the catch of the day. You knew he'd come over eventually, and you probably thought he'd be burning with rage. Dean is not too old to be playing games; he'll play one with you.
"Dean," you purr, "this is Chase." Dean sees the way you place your hand on Chase's knee.
"Dean, great party my man." Chase extends a hand towards Dean. He takes it all too happily.
"It's good to have you here, man, thanks for coming." Dean tries hard to contain his amusement as the smile falls from your face.
Dean scoots in between you both and leans back on his elbows against the bar.
"So how long has cute thing been going on," Dean continues, index finger pointing between the two of you.
"Almost two-" Chase begins.
"We're going to dance now," you cut Chase off, jumping out of your seat.
"Wait," Dean calls, grabbing your wrist to stop you walking off. "Don't go."
Dean watches as your eyes flicker nervously to Chase. He doesn't want to hurt the guy, but he's also not just going to let you walk away with him.
"I've learnt my lesson." Dean studies the way his words cause a shift in your face. You pull your hand out of his grasp.
"That explains some things," Chase says, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Respectfully, I'm going to bow out here. I don't do messy."
"Chase, I'm so sorry," you say, voice quiet. You're looking at the ground, guilt evident in your face.
"It's all good, I hope it all works out for you both. I'm going to go enjoy the free booze," Chase keeps his voice light and Dean finds some respect for the man he's been cursing in his head.
"You're an arsehole, you know that, right?" Your jaw clenches.
"Let's talk about why I'm an arsehole."
You jerk your head in the direction of the stairs. Dean takes your hand and this time you don't pull away. He leads you up the stairs and into his room.
You whirl around the second you close the door; arms crossed tightly over your chest. "You humiliated Chase down there. He was a nice guy and he didn't deserve that."
"I'm sure he'd be grateful that I saved him from being a pawn in your game." Dean's words send white-heat down your body but you take a few breaths before responding. You know you've both had alcohol and you don't want to say something in the heat of the moment.
"I wasn't using him, Dean." Your voice is levelled, "We've been on a few dates."
"Oh." Dean drops his gaze to the floor, deliberately avoiding your eyes.
His reaction only spikes your annoyance.
"You don't get to play boyfriend when it suits you." You don't mean to be that harsh, but the words hit their mark. It wasnβt fair that he felt intitled to you but he didnβt want to commit to you.
Dean recoils as if heβs been slapped. When his eyes flash back up to yours, you see no anger in them, just something raw and desperate.
"Play boyfriend?" Dean steps forward, closing the distance between you. "Is that really how you see me?"
You cross your arms even tighter and shift on your feet, suddenly feeling entirely too exposed under his intense gaze. You can feel a faint thumping vibrating through you, unsure if that's the bass from the music downstairs or your heart trying to escape.
You press flat against the door as Dean closes the final inches between you. His warmth radiates off of him. The scent of cologne mixed with alcohol is entirely too familiar. He always smells divine and it's messing with your head.
"I don't want to play your boyfriend. I want to be your boyfriend and it's killing me to watch you pretend otherwise."
Your heart is thumping so loud you're not sure you're hearing correctly. The anger that you felt is gone, replaced by a sudden, dizzying wave of vulnerability.
Dean sinks to his knees in front of you, grabbing your hips and resting his forehead against your cushy stomach. His hold is firm and desperately tight.
"Please,β he mutters into your shirt, βnobody else. Only me."
He tilts his head up to look at you, his eyes looking nearly black in the dim bedroom light.
"Dean," you breathe, voice trembling. You instinctively run your hands through his hair. "I... I don't..."
Dean's jaw tightens. He pulls back as the grip on your waist loosens. "Right. Okay. I get it-"
You can see the look of defeat on his face and your heart tightens, "No, that's not what I meant."
Dean freezes, his eyes searching yours, desperate and intense. His vulnerability shakes you; it makes you want to tell him everything.
"I only went out with him because I was terrified,β you confess, βDean, you don't do commitment, and I didn't want you to think that I was trying to trap you into it. I forced myself to date someone else because I knew that if I kept letting myself fall for you, I'd end up completely broken when you inevitably walked away."
A ragged and heavy breath escapes Dean's lips. The confirmation that you are just as deeply invested as him lights a pleasant fire in his chest.
His obsession with you is bordering unhealthy and you think there's a chance that he'd walk away from you? Beau was right.
"We are so stupid," Dean laughs.
"Come here," you whisper, tugging on Dean's hair to get him to stand.
Dean stands, his mouth crashing onto yours. The kiss isn't gentle. It's a bruising, desperate, expression of months of suppressed feelings, the jealousy from downstairs, and a desire to make you forget anyone else ever existed.
He hooks his hands under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly as he walks you back toward the bed. You tumble onto the sheets together, the air leaving your lungs as his heavy frame falls on yours. You open your legs to accommodate him between you.
Dean doesn't give you time to breathe. He continues kissing you with a frantic rhythm, demanding every single drop of your attention.
Dean leans back and runs his thumb over your lower lip. "You're beautiful."
He leans in again, hovering over your parted lips. You feel his soft, warm, breath against you. Your heart's beating so fast you feel dizzy, swept up in the moment.
He cups your cheeks and kisses you again. You have to remind yourself how to breathe.
Your nails rake through his hair as he moves his kisses to your neck.
"Oh, fuck," you say, your head falling back as Dean begins sucking on the skin there.
You hook your leg around his waist, feeling like you're in heat with the way you're rutting and rolling your hips up against his growing erection.
Dean says your name in warning, his breath tickling your neck. Your name always sounds so sensual when he says it, you feel your panties getting damper.
You whine when Dean takes his lips from your neck. "Patience, baby."
He pulls your leg from around his waist so he can slide down the bed. You lift your hips to hike up your dress. He scoots down further until he's hovering over your clothed pussy.
"You're so wet for me, baby." He gets harder looking at the soaked fabric of your panties, signalling your obvious arousal.
"Just for you," you mewl.
Dean spreads your legs further as he nuzzles his face between your legs. His nose feels wet as he presses it against the patch on your panties.
"Fuck, you smell so good." He presses his face deeper into your heat, breathing you in so deeply it sounds like a growl.
"Please," you beg, you can't stop your hips from rolling again. You don't know exactly what you're begging for. You just need more.
Dean gets to his knees and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties, eager to take them off to get better access to you. You're all too eager to help, raising your hips to aid him. He pulls them off and shoves them into his pocket.
"For later," he tells you, a wicked smile on his face.
Dean lies back down between your legs. He blows directly on your pussy, watching as you clench around nothing. He has no plans to tease you, this time, he just wants to take care of you.
Dean leans in, the heat of his breath against you making you whimper.
"I know, baby, I know. It's okay," he soothes.
Dean parts your lips with his index and middle finger. He licks a fat stripe then immediately turns his attention to where you're most sensitive.
Your eyes are half-lidded, he's flicking and swishing his tongue on your clit, you can't imagine you'll last long. He removes his mouth, immediately replacing it with his thumb. He alternates the pressure, pressing harder then softer as he circles your clit.
"Wanna kiss you," you say, tugging him up by his hair.
Dean obliges, keeping one hand working between your legs as he slides back up your body so he can kiss you. You taste yourself on his mouth.
"You can cum for me, baby."
The orgasm rips through you effortlessly, you keep eye contact with Dean as your body jerks with the effects of your release running through you.
Dean holds and praises throughout, whispering sweet nothings about how perfect you look cumming for him. He waits until your body's stopped moving to pull away. He pulls his shirt off first, the sight of his defined abs making your mouth water. His trousers and pants come off in quick succession, he's hard and leaking.
You eye him hungrily, breath hitching as he climbs back between your legs and hikes your dress up a little further.
"Going to fuck you nice and slow because I can see how badly you need it."
Your hands grip the sheets as Dean taps his erection on your clit, still a little sensitive. He wipes the head of his dick around your arousal before slowly pushing in.
He sinks into you inch by inch, purposely taking his time to drive you crazy. You can feel every vein on his dick; it's a perfect fit inside you.
You moan in tandem as he slowly starts to thrust. As he watches your eyes roll back, he thrusts harder doing everything he can to hear more of your breathy moans.
The headboard slams against the wall in time with the beat coming from the bass downstairs. Your toes curl as you watch where he slides in and out of you, disappearing as you take him all in.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he says in between breaths.
You wrap your legs around his waist as he leans forward onto you, large arms caging you in. This angle has him hitting your sweet spot, your walls clenching tightly around him. He growls your name as he picks up the pace, unable to stop himself from frantically thrusting into you.
One hand comes to caress your face again before he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "Whose girl are you?"
"Dean's girl," you cry out, fingers tangling in the sheets. "I'm Dean's girl."
"That's right, baby."
Sweat begins to glisten on his skin and you open your mouth, begging for a droplet of his salty sweat.
You thrust up to meet him, using your legs around him as leverage to pull him deeper into you. You can tell he's close, his voice breaks as he babbles incoherently and his thrusts become erratic.
His hand sneaks between your legs again and the pressure builds easily. Your moans are breathy as you get closer to your climax. A coil in your stomach tightens then snaps, waves of pleasure travelling through your body. You wantonly scream as your vision goes white.
Dean thrusts through your orgasm, seconds away from his own. You feel him pulse, your walls sensitive, before he cries out your name as he cums. You're filled with warmth as he releases inside of you, dick twitching as he unloads fully.
He doesnβt pull out immediately. He continues slowly thrusting inside you, body jerking and convulsing as you purposely clench around him again.
Dean collapses against you, panting heavily. You lean up, licking his neck to taste the sweat there.
"That was incredible," you praise. He loves it when you praise him.
"No more dates with other men," he begs, voice raw and exhausted against your ear.
"No more," you agree, pressing a kiss to Dean's forehead.
if you want to know something, just ask. i promise i'm friendly
i can do kinks up to a limit, i will absolutely not write anything extreme (non-con, scat, vomit, including real people, young age / animal based)
if you want something specific, please be specific so i can get as close to your want as possible!
i'll always respond asap if it's something i can't write. if it is, you'll likely see it on my WIP
please be understanding! we may have different interpretations of feelings towards a character. i'll always try to remain within canon but it may feel ooc to you
Other Rules
the usual DNI applies (racist, sexist, homophobic, a supporter of !srael etc. if you are any of those = BLOCKEDT)
i'd love to discuss the characters with you, especially if you have a different interpretation of their personality to me. but please remain respectful otherwise BLOCKEDT!
again, i am THIRTY. so please don't be a minor otherwise BLOCKEDT!
Tags
i'll always try to tag things so they can be avoided as i may reblog other fandoms.
full tag list coming soon
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βκ³βΈ Shower Time γ£ 1k
The one in which you have to be quiet in the shower.
βκ³βΈ Walk Him Like a Dog γ£ 2.8k
The one in which Dean suffers the consequences of not confessing.
βκ³βΈ Just a lil bit (with Beau) γ£ 2.6k
The one in which your boys take care of you (and each other).
βκ³βΈ Yes, Professor γ£ 1.2k
The one in which Dean helps you study.
βκ³βΈ Open Minded (with Beau) γ£ 1.1k
The one in which you try out a position from your book.
βκ³βΈ Challengers (with Logan) γ£ 6.4k
The one in which it's giving challengers.
βκ³βΈ All Eyes on Me (with Beau) γ£ 1.5k
The one in which you put on a show for Beau.
βκ³βΈ The Math of Us γ£ 3.2k
The one in which your mind isn't kind to you.
βκ³βΈ Two Against One γ£ 2.7k
The one in which your boys look after you when you're sick
ββββGarrett Graham
βκ³βΈ The Morning After γ£ 0.7k
The one in which you wake up after your first time with Garrett.
ββββJohn Logan
βκ³βΈ I've Got You (with Dean) γ£ 2.8k
The one in which your boyfriend is in love with another girl.
βκ³βΈ Challengers (with Dean) γ£ 6.4k
The one in which it's giving challengers.
Series
βκ³βΈ I've Got You Series Masterlist γ£ 7.4k γ£ Dean & Logan
The one in which Dean looks after you after heartbreak.
πΉ thank you @saradika-graphics (header) & @cursed-carmine (dividers) πΉ
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
