Castiel Imagines {On The Walls Of Versailles} {} {}
Dean Winchester; camera roll
Sam Winchester; camera roll
Castiel; camera roll
Outfits
Short Stories
sam winchester - in which you're a witch. with powers of psychometry (touching an object and discovering facts about events/people related to the object), and premonitions in your sleep. You're also Dean's best friend, year and a half younger. You've always shared a bed together during every hunt, you share secrets that not even Sam knows. One night you're utterly exhausted yet your brain won't allow you to sleep (insomnia kick started by your fear of sleeping), and Dean Winchester, the only person who can get you to fall asleep is already knocked out, taking up the entire matress leaving you with Sam. Sam who knows almost nothing about your powers, only a minor understanding of your insomnia.Â
                                     "    THE CURE    "
dean winchester - in which you die. bloody and messy and loud. and for two years your death settles on deans shoulders like a permanent stab wound, right to the heart. when jack and mary get stuck in apocolypse world, sam and dean and others venture to the other side through a rift. not only do they find their dead best friend charlie (only it's not erally her), dean finds you, but she's not you either. and suddenly that life sized hole in his chest is starting to heal. or is it?
                                   "    DROP DEAD    "
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When can we talk about not having boobs as a woman because itâs so fucking embarrassingâŚ
I donât even feel comfortable purchasing bras in store bc Iâm like⌠whatâs the point of buying a bra as an A cup????? Iâve even gotten to the point where I just donât wear them anymore cause thereâs nothing thereâŚ
Like Iâve never really cared but I walked into Victoriaâs Secret with my friend and two other moms⌠both my mom, my friend, and the two other women were C+âŚ. Itâs so fucking embarrassing.. like Iâm almost in tears writing thisssss đŤđŤđđ
âŚsummary: dean kisses you while he's drunk, and then the world keeps spinning. all you want to do is figure out if he remembers, if he meant it, and if he feels what you do in return. but he's not making it easy, until he does.âŚ
âŚwarnings/tags: Dean Winchester x female!reader, no use of y/n, no description of reader, age gap (20s - 40s), angst, overprotective dean, older dean, pining, dean being a stupid, lovable dork, some plot to get to the smut (dry humping, dean's dirty talk, car sex, praise kink, soft!dom Dean, fingering, begging, handjobs, nipple play, pussy slapping, fingering, mating press sex, creampie, big dick dean, overstimulation, body worship, dumbification, light dacryphilia, finger sucking, squirting), love confessions, fluffâŚ
âŚwc: 11kâŚ
âŚauthor's note: every week i overtake myself for 'horniest thing i've ever made'. enjoy!âŚ
You donât know what happened. Youâre too afraid to ask.
You donât want to live in a world where it gets taken back.
Dean isnât acting like anything happened. Heâs not draping himself around you or acting like youâre not there at all. Thereâs no slobbering man at your feet, acting like the ground you walk on turns to gold, but youâre also not curled up on the curb because Dean wonât look at you, and you canât stand to be in room where he acts like youâre gum under his shoe.
Youâve always understood that as how this would go. How your little infatuation would end.Â
Either a miracle would hit like lightning, and Dean would return your feelings. Or heâd reject you, and never look you in the eyes again.
The data was leaning in favor of the former. Which is why youâve been so very careful not to reveal your feelings under any circumstances. Witches have gaped about your sheer willpower. Samâs made passing comments about never seeing someone who could fight demonic possession so well. Everyone around you seems to think youâre some kind of mind Titan, able to simply focus and drive off any monster or force that tries to take you over.
They donât know that thereâs always on common factor. One thing that they try to force you to reveal, that makes you pry your mind back from their bare hands.
When you got possessed by a demon, Sam and Dean had you tied to a chair. Youâd still been able to see through your own eyes. Still been able to think, even if the demon had been using your internal monologue as a broadcast public radio, sharing every thought you had the mistake of thinking.
âAw.â Sheâd used your mouth, you voice, and it had sounded twisted in your brain. âSheâs worried about you two. Isnât that adorable.â
Sam had frowned, shooting Dean a weary look. âIs there something we need to be worried about? Or-â Heâd said your name gently. âIf youâre worried we canât take this demon, we can.â
âShe batting out of her league.â Dean had muttered, glaring down at the knife in his hands. âWeâve tangoed with the bosses and come out on top, sweetheart. No one needs to be worried but the bitch inside you.â
Whatever parts of your heart were still yoursâmost of it, as the demon had been able to sink her claws into everything but the organ that only played one, embarrassingly loud songâhad fluttered at his words. He hadnât been looking at you since they realized you were possessed. Sam had been doing all the talking, asking questions and trying to figure out what the demon wanted, how long sheâd been in your brain. Dean had just sat on the edge of the mattress, fists curled on his knees, jaw clenched so tight you were worried about his teeth. If you were in control of yourself you wouldâve told him to stop doing that. It made his headaches worse, and you bought him gum specifically so he could chew on something when he got pissed.
He wouldâve smile to himself, shaking his head, and given you the look that always made your knees wobble. The one that had a silent affection behind it, that came with his hand grazing your lower back and teasing about how bossy you were.
Youâd think I was dying, way you talk about my health.
Iâm trying to avoid you dying, Dean-
Why? Happens to everyone eventually, and Iâm further down the line than I thought Iâd be-
Youâre not a dinosaur. Stop talking like Iâm putting you in a home, I just told you to drink some water.
If I drink some water, are you gonna stop circling me like a freakinâ shark?
I am not circling you like a shark-
Yeah, you are. You wanna take a bite outta me, sweetheart, I can see it.
Youâd always blink at him, your heart in your ears and your jaw slack. Heâd grin, drink his water slowly and dramatically, then boop the bottle on your nose and walk away. When youâd tell him to do something later, heâd roll his eyes and give you that look again.
That was how they figured out you were possessed. The demon had asked Dean to grab the artifact youâd been investigating, and when heâd whined that he wanted to go get pie, sheâd smiled and said that was fine, as long as Dean told her where the artifact was first.
You wouldâve told Dean that he could have his pie after he grabbed the artifact. You wouldâve stood in front of him with your arms crossed and glared until he got up with a groan and let you drag him exactly where you needed him to be. Thatâs what you and Dean did. He pretended to be annoyed by it, but you wouldnât ask anything of him unless you really needed it. You got him the pie after, and he teased you about being wound up and needing to breathe for a second. Heâd feed you some of his pie like you were a baby, and youâd pretend to bite his fingers off.
But the demon had just bent for him. Dean had stared at her. And youâd know heâd seen it. Right through you, and to the ugly thing inside your body.
Ugly in a different way that you were. The demon was just cruel, but you were selfish.Â
Dean had told you not to go out alone, but you loved him and heâd been sitting so close. The love inside you had been threatening to pour out of you like a flood, and youâd needed to be anywhere but near him. The demon had found you while you were at the convenience store, buying Dean jerky. Youâd been too slow, and now you were a burden to him and Sam again. Dean had been forced to knock you out to tie up the demon, and Sam had to burn you with holy water. You could feel it, the burn and blistering of you skin. Youâd never tell them that, because the guilt would eat them alive.
Youâd never tell Dean. He was already angry with you for going out as it was. Youâre already more trouble than youâre worth, most of the time. Your worry hadnât been for you.
Itâs for him. That this was going to be too much for him to deal with, having to hurt another person he cared about.
The demon had plucked that thought from your head, and curved your lips into a smirk.
âOh, sheâs not worried about herself, Deanie.â It had drawled. âI know you see her as a woman of steel, but our lovely girl is just so sweet on the insides here. Itâs like swimming through marshmallows. Sheâs just so perfectly worried about how this is going to effect you. Itâs all she can think about, the pathetic little slut.â
Deanâs eyes had narrowed. âDonât fuckinâ talk about her like that-â
âIâll talk about her however I want.â The demon had purred. âSheâs my meat toy. But if you want to share with me, Winchester, Iâm sure she wouldnât mind both of us inside of her. She-â
The demon had cut herself off. Dean had shot to his feet, looking ready to throw a punch. Sam had blocked him with an arm, and your body had started to convulse. The demon sputtering and choking on nothing as Dean shouted your name. Sam had let him get to you when it became clear this wasnât the demon making a play, but you hadnât needed the help.
Sheâd made her mistake already. Youâd been able to feel her next words, building on your own tongue. Sheâd been sneering in your brain about how Dean would hate you after she revealed the truth, and youâd grabbed her by the throat.
Youâd pushed her out of your body, no exorcism required. Sam and Dean had stared at you in awe for about a month after. Sam had even pulled you aside and lowly asked how you did it. Youâd told him you had no idea.
It wouldâve been insane, to say well, Samuel. It was the power of my love for your brother. Donât tell him, or Iâll fucking kill you.
You wouldâve been serious about that threat, too. You never wanted Dean to know. If Sam had ever found out and told him, there wouldâve been a double murder suicide.
Which is why you donât know what to do now.
Because Dean kissed you, and the world didnât end.
Paradise didnât come. Hell didnât split through the Earth, and you didnât have to go into hiding in Romaniaâyour backup plan if Dean had ever found out and it wasnât Samâs fault.
The Earth had just kept spinning. Dean had gotten up the next morning and acted like nothing happened at all. Grumbling about his hangover and running a hand through his mussed hair. The same hand that had held the back of your neck last night, certain and possessive in his grip. Dean licked his lips, and youâd mirrored the motion, only able to think of that same tongue pressing into your mouth. â
Heâd kissed you like he knew what he wanted. Heâd tasted like whiskey and had a glazed expressionâas if he was looking at the world through glassâbut heâd kissed you. Heâd lifted you off the ground with the force of it. Heâd looked at you with blown out eyes, and been half-hard in his jeans, and begged you to come back to his room, and-
âYou alright?â Dean asks, and you blink at him.
âMe?â
âYeah, you.â His lips twitch. âYou look like you spent the night getting run over by a truck.â
You frown, and Dean pauses.
âIn a good way.â
âI look like I got run over by a truck in a good way?â
âUh- Yeah?â He smiles, rubbing the back of his neck. âI mean, Iâm not sayinâ you look bad. Youâre just all spacey and tired, and-â
He waves a hand at you sheepishly, and normally youâd keep pushing him for how exactly you could be run over by a truck in a good way.
But today, you can only look at his dumb, handsome face and think about how his stubble brushed over your skin. How your noses bumped, how heâd help you to his chest like you were a doll and he was a worried child that needed you.
âI didnât sleep well last night.â You mutter, and Dean chuckles.
âMe neither.â
âYou got drunk.â You say, flat and low. âYou passed out.â
âYeah, but I had some dreams, and-â He cuts himself off, eyes widening and grip on his mug slipping. He catches it with a curse, and looks at you like heâs seeing a ghost.
You raise your brow, not letting any emotion onto your face. Dean clears his throat, eyes dropping for the briefest second to your lips.
âHey, uh-â He runs a hand through his hair, shifting nervously on his feet. âIf I did anything stupid while I was wasted, youâd tell me. Right?â
And maybe you should tell him. But he looks so worried, and you know, deep down.
He doesnât really remember. Â
âYeah.â You breathe, offering him a tiny smile. âI would.â
Deanâs silent. He studies you for a second, then shakes his head with a laugh. âGood. âCause I get some, uh- Some crazy dreams.â
You pretend to laugh, but it echoes in the hollow of your chest until you feel sick. You have to excuse yourself to take a shower. To help you wake up, is what you tell Dean.
Really, you just sit on the floor and cry, letting your tears wash down the drain with the water. He doesnât remember. He kissed you, and heâs chalking it up to a crazy dream.
You have to get over him. Itâs a punch in your gut, knocking wind and snot out of you, but itâs what you needed. Deanâs never going to see you like that. Heâs older, heâs a hero, he could have anyone he wanted and heâs not going to chose the bossy girl who watches cartoons with him and makes him do bar trivia with her, because heâs better than he thinks he is. Heâll find someone cooler and older. Someone who likes cars as much as he does, who can actually help him with the Impala instead of just sitting on the bench in the garage and bothering him. Someone who can cook as well as he does, and doesnât make him try all the crazy soda flavors she sees.
Someone just as resolved and perfect as he is.
Not you.
You pick yourself up, and try to set a goal. Get over Dean.
The asshole doesnât make it easy.
He makes it impossible.
âIâm gonna work on Baby this afternoon.â He says, and you hum. Youâre curled up on the couch with your laptop, and heâs been leaning over your shoulder for the past hour, watching whatever you put on the screen. You donât understand why. Heâs got his own TV right in front of him, and he has to put his arm around your shoulders to comfortably be so close.
His fingers keep brushing the bare skin of your collarbone. His warmth is wrapped around you like a blanket, and itâs all impossible to deal with.
âI bought those snacks you like.â He adds, and you hum.
âOkay.â
âTheyâre gonna be with me. In the garage.â
 âIâll come get them later.â
Deanâs face twitches. You look over to find him staring at you, nostrils flaring and nose slightly wrinkled.
âPut it in the freezer.â You manage to whisper, and he shakes his head.
âToo far. Gotta focus on work.â
âIâm going to distract you from work-â
âThatâs different.â He shrugs, and suddenly youâre being pulled to your feet.
âDean-â
âCâmon.â He moves you in front of him, and all but herds you out of the Dean Cave. âIâll even let you pick the music, alright?â
You canât argue with him. Heâs too cute, and always has a command over your body youâve never been able to fight off. He doesnât even know that if he asked you to walk over hot coals, youâd do it to reach his side. If he wanted to get away youâd drop everything and go with him. If he needed you to bring him the moon, youâd learn to grow taller enough to grab it in your hands, and shred yourself back down to stay at his side.
Thereâs no way you can get over him while being his friend. Being his friend alone is a trial thatâs slowly wearing you down. Enough that soon, you think, youâll just be crawling on your hands to lay at his feet. Itâs all youâre going to be able to muster. All youâre going to want to do.
You need to get away from him.
You canât get away from him. Because if he asks you to do something with himâwhich he always doesâthereâs no way youâre going to be able to say no.
Which leaves one solution.
Avoid Dean.
Avoid him like heâs the plague.
You wake up in the morning, and touch your lips. Touch them like you can push the feeling of his kiss further into them. Like itâs a sugar that you could gather on your fingers and taste, a tattoo youâre trying to make sure is permanent. You do it every morning now, because itâs the last thing of Dean youâre allowing yourself to have.
If youâre careful, you donât see him through the day. Youâre up before he is, you find a corner of the bunker to hide in, you go out, you stay on the move like youâre prey and Deanâs on a hunt. When you see Sam, he gives you an odd look. If youâre sloppy, and end up in the same room as Dean, you flee before he can say something. If he says something youâre going to crash right back into him. Heâs gravity. And you donât have the strength to pull away twice.
But itâs not working.
You havenât been alone with Dean for a week, and you just miss him. You feel like youâre trying to carve out a vital artery from your chest. It just hurts. It just makes your love spill all over you, now that thereâs nowhere for it to go. You watch something on your computer and hug yourself, because your body seems to think itâs missing a limb without Dean wrapped around you. You sneak out in the middle of the night to get food, and end up just staring at the pie and jerky and beer until youâre sick. Youâve started to hole up in your room with ice cream as if youâre going through a breakup.
Itâs pathetic. You look in the mirror and see a husk, with tear stained cheeks and sunken features. Youâre wearing one of his fucking shirts, but your skin burns every time you think about taking it off. Youâd think you were cursed, if you didnât know this was just the feeling of love dying.
Not dying.
Youâre not strong enough to kill it.
This is the feeling of love being tortured.
Because youâre stupid and tired, you look up how to get over a crush. The internet says to list out all his faults, and logically you know Dean has those, but you canât remember any right now. His teasing always makes you flush and giggle, his stupid jokes make everything feel lighter, you know he gets angry because he cares. You even miss the loud, sloppy way he chews. Youâd always been able to reach over the table and wipe sauce from his cheek, and heâd smile at you after, and you miss his smile. Youâd do anything to see it right now.
You scroll to the next step. Think about it logically. If theyâd even be a good match. You skip that one. Deanâs always been the one thing you donât bother to think about logically. Something about him makes all the common sense in your head go down the drain. Which is the same issue the next stepâask yourself why you have a crush on themâfails as well. Of course you have a crush on Dean. You could list out every reason, but theyâd all just circle back to heâs Dean. And everything that he is demands that you love him.
Force yourself to move on, is the final step. Go out with someone else. Even if theyâre not your soulmate, it will help you realize there are plenty of other fish in the sea.
There are many other fish. The world is filled with men.
Thatâs part of the problem.
None of them are Dean Winchester.
But this is the most actionable step. The only one you can try to take, even if it doesnât work. So you get cleaned up, put on a nice dress, and do your makeup a little bit like a slut. The goal of this is to get laid, through, and itâs not like anyone you know is going to see-
âWhere the hell are you going?â
You freeze, squeezing your eyes shut. Heâs up. Why the fuck is he up. âNowhere?â
âYouâre going nowhere.â Dean drawls. âAt eleven. Dressed like⌠That.â
âMhm.â You turn slowly, trying to offer a winning smile.
He doesnât look amused.
You havenât seen him in person in a month. He kind of looks⌠awful.
Heâs still handsome. You donât think heâs capable of being anything else but amazing and desirable. But his hair is longer than he usually lets it grow, and there are heavy bags under his eyes. His shoulders are hunched, thereâs a stain on his flannel, and when he rubs his jaw you can see grease stains on his hands. Â Â
âWere you in the garage?â You blurt, and he grunts.
âMaybe.â
âBut-â His gaze is lidded, his features pale in a way that only happens when heâs awake for too long. âHave you slept?â
His brow furrows. âNapped.â
âFor how long.â
âLong enough.â
âThatâs not an answer-â
âWhere are you going.â He raises his voice over yours, and you swallow.
âOut.â
âOut where.â
You look down at your heels, fidgeting with the folds of your dress. âTo a bar.â
Dean doesnât respond. You canât bring yourself to look at him, but you think you might be leaning forward. This is exactly what you wanted to avoid. You havenât even been able to build up a flimsy wall against your feelings, and now theyâre all crashing through you like an asteroid, slamming through your world.
Heâs right there, and if you took a step forward youâd be able to touch him. Wipe the grease off his hands, pull off the flannel and order him to change into something clean. He needs a haircut, but you kind of like it longer. You could run your fingers through it, like this. Soothe the spots where itâs sticking out, help him wash it if heâd let you.
But you donât think he will.
Because when you look up under your lashes, heâs staring at you with a pained, exhausted expression that makes you want to cry.
âYou goinâ to meet someone?â He finally says, and you shake your head.
âN- No.â
âWe got drinks here-â
âI know.â
He grunts. âItâs not safe for you to be out by yourself.â
âIâm bringing pepper spray.â You mumble. âAnd my gun.â
Deanâs silent for a long moment, and you think heâs going to give up and walk away. Everything will be easier, if he just leaves for you. It will splatter your heart all over the floor, but at least you wonât have the weight of holding onto it anymore. At least it wonât churn like something rotten, when a stranger who isnât Dean lays his hands all over you.
But Dean doesnât leave.
He takes a step forward, and suddenly the air is so hot itâs hard to breathe.
âIâm goinâ with you.â
Your head shoots up, eyes wide. âDean-â
âYou said youâre not meetinâ anyone.â He challenges, glaring down at you. âI need a drink. You come with me, or you donât go at all.â
A scoff slips from your lips. âAnd how the fuck would you stop me-â
âIâd toss you over my shoulder and carry you back to your room.â
Oh.
He says it so casually. His voice a deep rumble as he stares at you. An ache demands attention between your thighs, and your cheeks burn as you laugh nervously, looking to the side.
Dean doesnât even crack a grin.
So thereâs nothing you can do, but let him walk with you to the car. You try to get in the backseat, but Dean snaps his fingers and points at shotgun with a scowl.
âIâm not a fuckinâ taxi. You sit up here, or we walk.â
You flush, and silently slide into the front bench. Dean drops behind the wheel, his gaze fixed firmly ahead as he starts the engine. You forgot how dangerous being close to him is. Heâd grabbed his coat on the way out, tossing his dirty flannel to the side. He smells like leather and pine tree, and even across the bench you can feel the heat radiating from his body. He rolls up his sleeves, and you want to nuzzle close to him and have him put you in a headlock. His hand runs over his inner thigh, and you press your own together.
Youâre staring at him. You canât help it.
Dean must feel it, because he shoots you a look from the corner of his eye. You look away, and hear him let out a heavy breath.
And the game begins. Dean pulls out of the garage, and youâre both perfectly silent, daring the other to break first. You stare out the window, stealing glances whenever you think you can get away with it. Sometimes Dean catches your eye, and you curl further into yourself, twisting away. Once, Dean opens his mouth. He closes it just as fast.
Youâve been driving for thirty minutes, when you realize heâs not taking you to a bar. Youâve passed three bars, and he didnât even slow down to check them out. You grab all the thin courage you posses, rooted deep in your stomach and sticky with nerves, and drag it to the surface.
âDean, where are we-â
âYouâve been ignoring me.â He says, blatant and flat. âPast month. Donât think I havenât fuckinâ noticed.â
You swallow, pulling your knees to your chest. âI- I donât-â
âDidnât even say why.â He mutters, tapping his fingers on the wheel. âThought you were sick at first, but youâve been talkinâ to Sammy.â
âItâs-â
âAnd you run outta every room I walk into. Like I got cooties or something.â Heâs scowling at the road, and you feel like the smallest thing in the world. âDidnât even bother to tell me why. Just⌠Fuckinâ vanished.â
Thereâs a lump in your throat, and unearned tears stinging at your eyes. He sounds broken, and itâs your fault. You and your stupid, useless love for him. âDean, itâs not like that-â
âSo whatâs it like, huh?â His words are harsh. You flinch back. âYou start acting like Iâm the goddamn devil and Iâm supposed to take your word that itâs just not like that? There ainât anything for it to be like, sweetheart-â
âNo, I- I just-â You lean forward, then curl back. Youâd wanted to grab him. You donât think youâre allowed. âI just needed- I needed-â
âSpace?â He spits the word like itâs poison. âGo on. Tell me you just needed space from me.â
âDean-â
âThe hell did I do to you?â He sneers. âI know I ainât perfect, but I- I thought you- I was so fuckinâ careful, and you promised youâd tell me if I did something stupid.â
You frown, not fully understanding what he means. âDean, you- You didnât do anything-â
âDonât bullshit me!â He shouts, and you donât think you can breathe anymore. âYou promised me, you said youâd tell me, and the goddamn least you coulda done was tell me what the fuck I did-â
âPlease- Please stop yelling.â You whisper, not even sure if heâs going to hear you.
But he does.
Dean cuts himself off with that clench of his jaw, and pulls over to the side of the road. You hug yourself tight, trying to shrink back into the seats. This is your fault. Heâs angry because of you, and you stupidity. Youâre barely a schoolgirl with a crush, and you let it hurt him, and thereâs no possible world where heâd ever want you now.
You hide your face in your knees. Tears burn on your cheeks, and when you try to take a deep breath, itâs ragged and aching.
Deanâs silent. The whole car is silent. Heâd turned off the radio, and the only sound hanging in the air is your sniffling. You think about climbing out of the car, but heâd just chase after you. Itâs started to rain, and you donât want him to catch a cold.
You wrap your coat tighter around you. Your dress feels too tight on your skin. Feels wrong. You think youâre going to be sick. When you risk a look at Dean, heâs still holding the wheel with white knuckles. Staring at you with a pained expression, eyes even heavier than before.
He leans forward like heâs going to reach for you. Your breath hitches. He pulls back.
For a second, you just watch each other. You wipe your cheeks with your palm, and it feels like a raw, open wound.
Dean opens his mouth. Closes it, and looks back to the road like heâs searching for something.
âIâm- I didnât mean to yell.â He mutters, voice hoarse. âI just- Iâm sorry.â
You nodâyou didnât blame him in the first placeâbut when he looks to you for a response, you canât find one. Everything is lodged in your throat, behind a quiet confession youâve worked far too hard to shove down.
âIâll fix it.â Dean rasps, and you blink.
âWhat?â
âWhatever I did.â Heâs staring at you, his voice cracking. âWhatever pissed you off or- Or hurt you. Iâll work on it, alright? You donât have to do anything, Iâll fix me, and then you can stay.â
âI- I can stay?â
He nods, squeezing his eyes shut. As if the words hurt to stay. âIf you canât, I get it. I do. But you gotta give me a chance to set it right, before you give up. Just one chance, and if I screw it up a second time you can run off, but- One shot, itâs all I need. Donât- Donât leave.â His voice cracks, eyes shining in the dark. âPlease.â
You stare at him, mouth hanging open. He looks broken. Lone tears stain his cheeks, and heâs not even wiping them away. When you shake your headâjust trying to make sense of what he saidâhe cowers away like a kicked dog, and you split down the middle.
âI wasnât going to leave, Dean.â Horror leaks through your voice. You couldnât leave him if you tried. âIâd never leave you.â
He laughs dryly. âYeah, like I didnât just fuckinâ catch you-â
âI was going to the bar.â
âWithout telling anyone?â
âNo, because I knew youâd try to do this!â You wave around you, and Deanâs throat bobs. âNo, I didnât mean-â
âYou didnât wanna see me.â He mutters, looking back to the wheel. ââS alright. I get it.â
He doesnât. He really doesnât. And you can see him trying to drag himself back together, still refusing to wipe his tears and breathing through his nose. Heâs just sitting there, hollow and angry, and he doesnât understand.
âYou kissed me.â
You say it without thinking, soft and weak. Dean goes rigid. He looks at you with bloodless, horrified features. You wrap your hand around your own throat, trying to hold yourself in one piece.
He shakes his head. Youâre going to throw up.
âNo, I- Iâd remember that-â
âYou were drunk.â You breathe. âI- I picked you up from the bar. And you kissed me.â
Dean looks like someone punched him in the face. Heâs pallid, looking around the car like thereâs a way out, fisting and unfisting his hands.
âThatâs- Thatâs why youâve been avoiding me.â He rasps, and you nod, fixing your gaze on his chest.
If you have to watch his face while he rejects you, thereâs a chance youâll just die.
Dean says your name, slow and broken, and you bite the inside of your cheek. Bracing for the knife about to be driven into your chest.
âIâm so fuckinâ sorry.â
That makes you look up. And itâs not rejection you find in Deanâs eyes.
Itâs guilt.
âI shouldnât have kissed you, and- Being drunkâs no damn excuse.â
âDean-â
âIf you want nothing to do with me, I- I understand.â Heâs too lost in himself to hear you. âHell, Iâll move out so you can stick with Sammy. You wonât have to deal with me anymore, youâre- Itâs not your fault-â
âDean-â
âI shouldnât have forced you on that, my own- My own shit is mine to deal with, and you never gave me any kinda go and I damn well knew it- Iâm so fuckinâ sorry-â
âDean!â You shout, and he falls silent. Squeezes his jaw shut, gaze mournful and completely shattered.
Youâre not entirety sure whatâs happening. You say the only thing you can think.
âStop grinding your teeth.â
Dean blinks, but his jaw loosens. He mutters your name, and you shake your head. You donât think you can stand another apology.
âI- Iâm not mad about you kissing me.â You whisper, and he snorts, empty and humorless.
âItâs not your job to make me feel better about hurting you, sweetheart-â
âYou didnât hurt me.â You snap, and Dean stills completely.
He opens his mouth, but youâre faster. Flushing furiously and too tired to fight the words.
âI- I liked it.â You whisper. âA lot.â
Dean sits a little taller, words low and cautious. âYou didnât tell me in the morning. Why wouldnât you tell me, if-â
âYou were drunk. I- I thought-â You take a deep breath, face burning with shame. âI thought you didnât mean it.â
âAh.â Heâs silent for a moment. âBut- Why the hell would you avoid me-â
âI kissed you back.â
âDid you mean it?â
His question feels like the barrel of a gun, loaded and pressed to your temple. You nod weakly. Dean lets out a sharp breath, drumming his fingers on the wheel.
âYou thought I didnât mean it.â He finally echoes, and you nod again. âSo you just-â
âThat hurt.â Tears are falling again. Everything blurring except for Dean. âThatâs the part that hurt, Dean, I just- I had to try and move on. And the internet said thatâs how you do it.â
âThe internet?â
âYeah.â You mumble, and Dean huffs a low laugh.
âSweetheart, why the hell would you check the internet for advice-â
âNone of my ideas were working.â You hiss. âAnd I- I didnât like avoiding you, it felt really bad-â
âYou didnât have to avoid me, you coulda just told me-â
âAnd you wouldâve what, confessed your love and kissed me again-â
âYeah!â He shouts, throwing his hands in the air. âI wouldâve, if youâd just fuckinâ told me!â
Your heart stops, for a full second. You donât think you heard him right. âWhat?â You whisper, and Dean sighs.
âI meant it, okay?â He mutters, looking up to the sky. As if he was praying. âEverything I do with you, I mean it.â
âAnd- And the love-â
âI mean that too.â He gives you a sad, tired smile. âI know I shouldnât. God knows I tried not to, youâre- Youâre young and you got a future and Iâm just me-â
âI love you.â You blurt, and Deanâs jaw falls. âI love you just like⌠you. And-â You bow your head shyly. He wonât stop staring. âIf you- If you feel something too-â
Dean moves before you can think.
One second youâre rambling, trying to figure out how to say it. The next his lips are pressed against yours, kissing you like heâll die if he doesnât. Like youâll die.
You grab his wrist when he cups your face, he turns you to deepen the kiss, and youâre both moving like youâre trying to breathe the other in. Your nails dig into his skin and he grunts, the sound vibrating against you. You roll onto your knees, moving over him without breaking the kiss, and he grabs you by the waist. Tight enough to bruise. To leave a mark.
Itâs just a kiss. A hungry, hot kiss thatâs making your head spin. Itâs better than anyone else touching you. Better than being fucked, just because itâs Dean.
He picks you up, pulling you into his lap forcing you to straddle. You grab his shoulders for balance, letting out a sharp breath, and Dean chuckles. Sucks your lower lip with a tiny smirk, rubbing your hips as your finger brush the back of his neck. You let out a shuddering breath, sinking fully against his chest. One of his massive hands drags up your spine, callouses and teasing fingers dancing over bare skin and you arch, chasing the fuzzy, addictive sensation of Deanâs hands.
Your core presses against his bulge. Heâs hard, twitching inside his jeans. You roll your hips once, unable to stop yourself, and Dean hisses against your lips.
âCareful.âÂ
You donât want to be careful. You want to be ruined. You grind down again, kissing him while you move, and he groans.
âHey- Woah-â He wraps his arm fully around your waist and pins you down. Forcing the outline of his cock against the thin panties youâd worn to go out.
Thereâs not a single regret in your head. You can feel him better like this. The thick curve, almost pushed between your pussy lips. Your underwear is bunched up, offering extra pressure, but Dean is holding you down so hard thereâs not even space to wiggle. You almost whine, pouting at him under wet, fluttering lashes.
He just stares up at you like a man whoâs lived underground his whole life, finally seeing the stars. You drag your nails down his chest, trying to spur him into action, but he just keeps staring. He even laughs under his breath, like somethingâs fucking funny.
You scowl, but donât even get to provoke him before heâs rising back up.
Dean brushes hair from your face, and kisses you slowly. Sweetly. A confusing, sharp contrast to how his erection is angled right against your heat. Your body doesnât seem to know what to do with it, and just settles for going limp with overwhelmed, happily dizzy confusion. Dean chuckles again. If your body could listen to any whims but his right now, youâd punch him in the face.
âStop laughing.â You manage to grumble, but that just makes him laugh again. âDean-â
âSorry.â He grins against your lips, rubbing your hips in soothing circles. âYouâre just- Youâre unbelievable.â
âYouâre unbelievable-â
âYouâre the most beautiful thing Iâve ever fuckinâ seen.â He mutters, dragging his hand up your side. As if heâs marveling in just the shape of you. âNever thought Iâd get to have you like this, and- Look at you.â He draws back, whistling with a smug smirk. âThey should let people touch the art, baby. You get even prettier.â
Thereâs nothing coherent you have to respond to that. Your brain is mostly a confusing garble of Dean and touch and more.
He kisses just under your jaw, and you gasp. Your eyes flutter as your head lolls to the side, and Dean chuckles.
âYou-â You bite back a moan as he sucks on a pulse point. âYouâre pretty too.â
âHm.â He nips at the sensitive skin, before flicking his tongue against the hurt. âPretty, huh.â
You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck until heâs almost in a headlock. Dean doesnât seem to mind, moving onto another, somehow more sensitive spot. You try to move against his clothed dick, your pussy starting to throb, but heâs holding you too tight. Dean hums against your skin, and you moan, right in his ear. It makes his cock jump, and you almost cry from the fleeting offer of friction.
âCome- Come on-â You whine, wiggling uselessly in his arms. âYouâre being an asshole- Dean-â
He pushes his lips back over yours, right as he grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes. It loosens his grip, letting your hips freely move against him, but youâre so pent up from making out that you canât even work out what you want to do. Youâre grabbing at his shirt and kissing him with spit and teeth, and heâs barely giving you anything in return.
âDean- Just-â You claw at his shirt. âOff, get it off-â
âThatâs not a very polite way to ask, sweetheart-â
âFuck you.â You breathe out, moaning when you get the thickest part of him to drag over your clit. âTake your shirt off, Dean, now-â
 A strong hand wraps around your throat, pulling you back down into a mind numbing kiss. Youâre still fucking down onto his crotch, but their angle offers less pressure. You mightâve burst into tears, if it wasnât for the magnitude of Deanâs attention. His hands all over your body, one fisted in your hair while the other started to map every inch of you he can reach.
âDe- Dean-â
âNot polite.â He mutters, kissing you between every word. âNot patient. What am I gonna do with you?â
Your heart stumbles, still a little bit bare from the fight and confused from the gentle way heâs suddenly touching you. No more grabbing or marking. Just soft, possessive but careful fingers, tracing your curves like heâs trying to memorize every inch.
âCan I tell you what Iâve wanted to do?â He rasps in your ear. âSince I first fuckinâ saw you?â
âYes.â You breath, trying to just feel him. His strength all around you, his voice rolling through your chest.
Deanâs words are deep and rough in your ear, and you cling to every one like gospel.
âIâve wanted to kiss you since before you even said your name. Wanted to fuck you when you stood in front of me and threatened to shoot if I didnât back off and leave you be. Decided Iâd marry you when you called me a chicken butt âcause I told you to stay behind me. Then I thought I was insane, told myself I just needed to get laid. But I got laid. And you wanna know the only thing I could think about, the whole damn time?â
You nod, and Dean pulls back, dropping his brow tight against yours.
âYou.â He rasps. âClosed my eyes and saw you under me. Got kicked outta bed for calling your name, felt sick after âcause some stupid thing in my head kept telling me Iâd betrayed you. Then Sammy came and told me youâd be coming with us, and I knew I was a goner. If it wasnât such a selfish freakinâ masochist I wouldâve told him that I didnât want you around.â
Your lip wobbles. âYou didnât want me-â
âI wanted you so much.â He grabs the back of your neck, the words a low growl. âDrove me out of my damn mind, how much I wanted you. Thought Iâd need to be put down, like one of those dogs that humps every damn thing it sees.â
âYou- You never-â
âWhat? Thought youâd be into something like me?â He laughs, and you frown.
You plant your hands, flat on his chest, and push up a little taller. Demanding he listen to every word you say.
âIâm into you.â You snap, and Deanâs sarcastic smile falters, slipping back into that awe. âDo you think thereâs something wrong with me?â
âNo.â He answers without thought. âYouâre perfect.â
Dean kisses you, slow and deliberate. Everything is suddenly controlled and delicate, like heâs weaving together a song.
You think youâre supposed to be the instrument. You donât realize, though, until heâs already playing you as if youâre a toy.
Deanâs mouth trails down, leaving wet, open kisses over your neck and collarbone. The beard scrapes and tickles against you. You decide you like it. Heâs not allowed to shave later.
You shiver, moving your hands to rest on his stomach. His abdomen flexes under your fingers, and you start to grind back down onto his crotch. When you press further forward, you can get that perfect friction from before. The one you needed so bad you almost screamed. Dean nips at your throat and you pick up your pace.
He grunts, and lifts you up like you weigh nothing. You squirm like animal, even as he handles you well. Youâre moved backwards, your knees still knocked apart as Deanâs spreads his own legs. He pushes you back until your elbows are resting on the horn, and heat prickles over your skin when you realize the position heâs put you in.
Your barely clothed pussy, wet and on full display to Deanâs lust-blown expression. He traces over your inner thigh, teasing and teasing until youâre almost thrusting up to meet him.
âRemember what I said about patience?â He drawls, eyes sparkling on yours.
You just pant, making to grab his wrist and move it where you want. But heâs too strong, and you donât even get a budge.
âI- Iâve been patient-â
 âNah. Not enough. But,â he lifts up your skirt, exposing you further. âLook at her. Just begging for some attention.â
Dean presses a single knuckle against your pussy, running it up until it hits your clit, and your elbow slips. Babyâs horn startles you, making you almost scramble back over Dean, and he just laughs. Kisses you sweetly while you pant in his ear, even nipping under the lobe as you try to control your heartbeat.
âFuck- Fuck-â Your eyes roll back as you realize what happened.
Youâd trapped Deanâs hand between your bodies, and heâs taken full advantage of the situation. For every honeyed and light kiss he presses over your cheeks and lips, he rubs your pussy with light, deft touches. A graze of your clit, then his thumb teasing over your entrance. Itâs torture, the touches too light to do anything but make you feel insane, but youâre certain if you move away heâs just going to remove his hand altogether. Leaving you no other choice but to whimper, take it, and plead for mercy.
âMore- There-â You bury your face in Deanâs neck, when he rubs your clit back and forth in a frenzy, then simply moves away. âDean- I- I need to come, please, just, up- No-â
You tremble when he moves away again, humping against his hand. It doesnât do anythingâheâs too good at thisâbut you donât think you could stop if you wanted to.
âPlease, please, please-â
âYouâre real good at begging, sweetheart.â Dean kisses the side of your head, and you nod weakly. âYou think Iâm not give you what you need?â
âI- I donât think youâre showing any signs of it.â You breathe, and he laughs.
âCanât argue with that. But youâre kinda restricting my movements.â He splits his two fingers, placing them around your pussy lips and rubbing slowly up down. âAnd trust, Iâd love to play with your wet little pussy until you were coming all over my hand, but you started something on my pants. Think you should finish it.â
You lean back in slow confusion, and Dean nods between your bodies. You flush when you see it.
The faint dark spot, on his still hard crotch. You canât look away from it.
Dean pulls your panties forward, then snaps them back against your pussy. Your hips jerk, wild eyes flying up to his, and he grins.
âKeep them on.â He smirks, dragging you back to sit on his crotch. âAnd take what you want.â
You nod breathlessly, grabbing the bench behind his head and starting to fuck down against Deanâs bulge. Youâre more deliberate than before, gaze locked onto Deanâs, knowing exactly where to move to get the best friction. Dean watches you as if youâre sent from Heaven, licking his lips and rubbing your ass. Heâs hiked up your skirt, giving him full access to whatever he wants. You expect handprints, maybe more teasing touches to keep you on the edge.
Instead, he grabs the back of your neck, and just watches you move on him. His mouth falls open, and when you lean a little down, he doesnât hesitate to close the space.
Your speed picks up. The ruined fabric of your panties only adds to the friction, almost completely letting you feel the rough, tantalizing sensation of the denim. When you get your clit, itâs like being rolled between two pinched fingers, and you start to hump that one spot.
Dean groans, and when you catch against something, you realize youâre hitting the head of his cock.
You reach between your bodies, grabbing for something of him to hold onto, and find what has to be his balls. Theyâre big, heavy even when youâre not really holding them, and when you squeeze softly Deanâs whole body jerks.
âFuck- Son of a bitch, you canât just-â Deanâs words turn into a long moan of your name, when you squeeze again.
You smile to yourself, riding him faster and faster. Deanâs eyes flutter, his fingers weaving into your hair. You throw your head back, and he chases. Starts to bite and suck on your neck again, pushing further and further up until you can no longer get a grip on his balls.
For a second, you try to push back, but Deanâs a solid wall of muscle. Youâre using all your energy to keep yourself moving against him, and every thought empties from your head as his lips travel down.
Dean rips the top of your dress open. You hadnât been wearing a bra. It wouldâve ruined the outfit.
He has a clear, direct line to wrap his lips around your peeked nipple, and start to suck.
A loud, uncontrollable sound escapes your lips. You donât know how he can be so good at that. His tongue flicks and swirls, teeth grazing against the bud, and all you can think of is what heâd do between your legs.
You movements are becoming shorter. More desperate. You press your breasts up, trying to demand more attention. Dean obliges, giving a harshsuckle before a series of kitten licks. He lazily kisses over the valley of your breasts, taking the neglected bud between his lips and sucking even harder than before.
âOh- Oh my god.â You pull at the short, soft hair on the nape of his neck. He moans, mouth wet and warm wrapped around you. âYes, Dean- Oh- Oh fuck-â
Your eyes roll back in your head, the pressure in your lower tummy just needing a little more to snap. Youâre barely even humping him anymore, just thrashing around and trying to find the right position to get you there.
âI- I canât-â You scratch Deanâs back, pressing your cheek to the side of his head as you almost sob. âDean, I need to cum, need to cum so fucking bad, Deeaan-â
His hand shoves between you, shoving one finger into your dripping pussy. Even with how wet you are thereâs a slight stretch, and itâs just the one finger. You slam down onto him, your clit getting plenty of attention against his jeans, and youâre getting lightheaded with the need to find release.
Dean finger crooks inside you. Right against your g-spot. He wiggles it, rubbing fast and firm. His tongue presses flat against your nipple, swirling as he moans, and your shriek with delight.
You cum, shaking and moaning right into Deanâs ear. His finger slowly fucks you through it, but the moment you make a broken sound of his name, his lips are back over yours to swallow it. You donât think youâve ever cum that hard before. You can feel it all the way to the tips of your fingers, electric on your tongue as Dean kisses you.
Your pussy is clenching around his finger, and he grunts, angling his head to kiss you deeper. He pulls out slowly, rubbing your cunt until your wetness is smeared all over your thighs.
âThe back.â He grunts, words thick and strained. âGet in the back.â
You feel bubbly. Youâve never felt bubbly before. Thereâs a rough command in Deanâs words thatâs probably going to make you melt in a matter of minutes. But right now, you just giggle.
Dean leans back, looking at you like youâre insane.
âSweetheart.â He wipes the hair stuck to your brow, and you can feel the tension in his voice. Heâs trying to be patient. âWhatâre you laughing at?â
You shake your head, beaming as you press back over him. Dean grunts when you kiss him, but kisses back immediately.
âI just came on your pants.â You breathe.
He hums, leaning back to give you an exasperated look. âAnd thatâs funny?â
âLast week I was crying about how I was never going to hold your hand.â
âAh.â That makes him smile. He kisses your cheek, squeezing his hold on you. âWe can do that later.â He mutters. âAfter we get in the back.â
You hum, going back in to kiss him again. Dean gives you five seconds, before youâre being picked up like a sack of potatoes and tosses over the bench. You land with a squeal, scrambling up to your palms, and Dean laughs.
âWhat the fuck-â
âTold you.â He shrugs, pulling his shirt over his head. âBut donât worry. Was counting on you not giving a damn what I told you to do.â
You gape at him. âI- I do what you tell me-â
âNo, you donât.â
âWhat about when you told me to go grocery shopping, I did that-â
âYou got everything wrong.â He gives you an amused look, and you scowl, crossing your arms over your chest.
âYour list was confusing. And when I tried to call, you didnât pick up.â
âList works for Sammy.â
âIâm not Sam, I need you to make a list for me-â
âI did make a list for you.â Dean crawls over the bench, grinning down at you. âAnd you still bought that fuckinâ turkey meat.â
You swallow, unable to stop yourself from drinking him in. Youâve seen him shirtless before, but itâs always been quick glimpses you forced yourself to look away from, or in the context of a wound. But this, here, the car is filled with steam from your fun before, thereâs only to golden halo of the streetlamp, and Dean is all yours to stare at, as much as you want.
His chest is broad, softer in some places than heâs probably been in his youth, but perfect. Youâre going to be completely smothered in him, you could shove your face between his pecs, feel his thick biceps wrap tight around you as he fucks you like youâve always dreamed. Heâs covered in jagged scars and freckles. You want to touch every single one.
âSam gave me twenty dollars not to get red meat.â You breathe.
Dean chuckles, pulling at his belt. âAnd you chose him over me?â
You meet his gaze again, sure you must look like a lost doe under all of him. Youâre not sure what to do with yourself at all. âYou didnât give me twenty dollars.â
âAnd if I gave you twenty bucks?â He grins, pulling down his pants.
Thatâs your queue to say something smart. You canât think anything smart.
Deanâs cock stands proud above you, and itâs pretty. Prettier than a porn cock, and those things look like theyâre plastic. Deanâs thick and veiny. Heâs well groomed, his balls heavier than they felt beforeâthey could fit in your mouth, and you might choke, but would that really be so badâand the tip of him nice and curved. Just the sight of him makes your pussy clench around nothing. Your legs spread wider.
Deanâs throat bobs, as he follows the movement. Heâs slowly stroking himself, and you watch his grip get white knuckled as you spread your legs wider.
You need to touch him. He touched you. Itâs only fair.
But you reach for him, and Dean catches your wrist. Pins your arm over your head, forcing him to lower down. He settles between your legs, giving you a stern look that makes your breath hitch.
âNo.â He chastises, and you pout.
âI wanna put you in my mouth.â
âYou- Jesus, woman.â He lets out a sharp breath, closing his eyes. âYou canât freakinâ say that-â
âWhy not-â
âI ainât as young as I used to be, alright?â
You frown. âI know that.â
He shakes his head. âNo, I mean-â He sighs, dropping his brow against yours.
You pull your hand carefully out of his hold, running your fingers through his hair. He lets out a low rumbling sound, almost like a purr, so you keep going. He makes nice sounds. Youâd like to collect all of them, and keep them in little jars on your shelf you can listen to whenever you want.
âI like the hair.â You say, soft and casual. Like his cock isnât pressed right against your cunt. âAnd the beard?â
Dean huffs a low laugh. âYeah?â
âMhm. Makes you look your age.â
âI am my age-â
âIn a sexy way.â You blurt, and he sits up, brows raised.
âA sexy way?â
âYeah.â You nod, suddenly wanting to hide your face. âI mean, youâre- Youâre always sexy- Iâve always wanted to have sex with you, but- But I also think, if itâs- If youâre going to be kissing me all the time- Iâd like this-â
Dean shuts you up with a deep, open-mouthed kiss. You hum, thankful for the mercy, and shiver when you feel him peeling away the scraps of your underwear and dress. You donât think youâre going to haver anything to ride home in.
Something to worry about later. When Deanâs not rubbing his dick against your pussy. The large head of his presses against your clit, Deanâs beard tickling your neck as he kisses everywhere his mouth can find, and you feel the pressure starting to build again.
âDeanâŚâ You mumble. âOh- Oh-â
He sucks on a hickey from before, and the previous orgasm had already made you more sensitive. Your back arches, forcing your swollen button to rub against his shaft, and your mouth falls open in a loud, lewd moan.
âEasy,â he mutters, dropping his weight. Forcing you back down. âTryinâ to tell you, sweetheart. Iâm barely fuckinâ holding it together, and if I blow before I get inside of you, Iâm gonna drive myself off a cliff.â
You giggle despite yourself, letting your body relax into his touch. You trust him, and the idea of him just having you is enough to make your pussy ache. âAw.â You turn, smiling at him. âYou care.â
He snorts. âYou always a brat? Or just when Iâm fuckinâ you.â
âDo you want the real answer to that?â
âHm.â Dean tilts his head, gaze raking over your body. Over every mark heâs left, to the point that youâre mostly a map of his hands and lips.
A smirk curve on his lips, and you feel one strong hand grab under your knee, moving it up to your chest. Putting you on full, naked display.
âNah.â He drawls. âI think Iâm good.â
The air is knocked from your lungs, as he presses forward. His cock slides slowly into you, filling the car with the hottest, wettest sound youâve ever heard. You grab his forearm, just trying to ground yourself, and he goes for your other knee.
Dean bends you in half under him, folding you into a pressed little ball. You can see yourself swallowing his cock. See every inch disappear into your pussy, every vein right before it bumps inside your gooey walls. Deanâs chest is heaving, his features open and slack.
âFuck.â He grunts. Reverent and as wrecked as you feel. âSon of a bitch, you fit me like a goddamn glove. Takinâ me like a champ, sweetheart, câmon- Just a little more-â
He spits on where youâre meeting, on your clit, and you try to arch up. He grunts, pushing the last few inches fully in.
You throw your head back, trying to adjust to the feeling of being so full. He feels even bigger than he looked, and youâd forget to breathe if he didnât wrap his hand around your ribcage, and squeeze gently.
âGood?â Deanâs voice cracks, and you can almost see his chest rippling with the restraint to hold still.
You nod, opening your mouth, then closing it when words fail you. Heâs just- Heâs so big and everywhere. Heâs pushed over your g-spot, and itâs making you feel like youâre being dragged through a pool of pleasure. Thereâs nothing else to think about.
Deanâs brow furrows. âBaby, I need you to talk to me-â
âGood.â You breathe out. âSo- So good, Deaaaan-â
You tug on his wrist, trying to bring him down to your level. He immediately understands, bending over for a kiss. You relax as his lips move against yours, pushing your hips a little up to take in more of him. You might be able to cum just like this. Impaled on Deanâs cock. Usually youâd need something more, but youâre hypersensitive, and itâs like he was made to be inside you.
You smile at him, when he pulls back up. He swallows, slowly reaching up to grab your jaw.
âIâm gonna move, alright?â
You hum, still smiling, and Dean takes in a slow breath.
âCan you keep lookinâ at me?â
You nod, and his lips twitch.
âYou really canât talk right now, huh?â
Head shake. Deanâs eyes glint, and your mouth falls open as he thrusts. Once, harsh and short against your g-spot.
âSo fuckinâ cockdrunk you canât speak.â He drawls, grinding slowly into your pussy. Still too shallow to be anything. Just working your g-spot until tears prick at your eyes. âYou think you can at least say my name, baby?â
âDeeean-â You mewl out, gasping as he finally gives a full, deep thrust. âDean- Dean-â
âThatâs it.â He grunts, pulling almost fully out before slamming back in. âThatâs my girl. Nice and dumb on this cock. Just letting it happen, arenât you sweetheart.â
âMmmm.â Is all you can manage, but itâs Deanâs fault.
Heâs fucking you like a man possessed. Cock slipping in and out of your channel, drilling into your g-spot and cervix. You can see it, see the vein in his brow as he moans your name, see the mess forming around your pussy as you soak his dick.
âDean.â You babble, a strange, tight heat forming deep inside you. âDeaan, âs- âs big-â
âI know.â He coos. âI know, baby, but- Shit- Youâre takinâ it so well. Best thing Iâve ever fuckinâ felt-â
He grunts, balls slapping against your ass. His body is sticky and shining with sweat, and you canât stop yourself from staring at how he moves as he fucks you. Each motion is so powerful, and thereâs an impossibly good, perverted feeling you get from watching where you meet, and-
âLook.â He grunts, tapping your chin with his thumb. âLook at me, sweetheart, come on-â
You blink up at him, and he groans, bending over as he slams inside.
You donât think. Your mouth opens, and you take his thumb between your lips, sucking softly. Itâs nice to have something to do, when youâre too fucked out to even remember your own name.
And it does something to Dean. His thrusts stutter, and a deep, growling sound comes from his chest. You hum, blinking up at him from glossy eyes. He groans, chest heaving, and something snaps in his expression.
Dean fucks you so hard you could swear the car was shaking. His thumb pushes further between your lips, and you take it happily. You can feel the sensation between your legs building, a little different than your usual orgasm, but itâs good. Tingly and hot, almost like youâre being shot up with direct euphoria. Your lashes flutter, and you moan around Deanâs thumb as he starts to give sharp, abusing thrusts to your g-spot.
He bends like heâs trying to get his mouth on your pussy, only just remembering his body canât move like that and pulling his hand away from your mouth. Youâre about to whine in frustration, but then Dean finds your clit.
He gives it tight, back and forth rubs that make your hips buck up. He uses his cock to bully them back down, rubbing even harder, and the sensation explodes like fireworks.Â
 Itâs wet and messy, spilling out of your pussy with Dean still seated deep inside you. He moans, dropping over you as you milk his cock, dragging him into orgasm with you. Youâre shaking, cumming and cumming harder than you can keep up with. You can feel the releaseâyours or Deanâs, doesnât really matterâsticking inside of you and dribbling down your ass.
Dean kisses you, and you barely manage to kiss him back. Youâre boneless and floaty again, your body so washed with pleasure you might be shaking from it. Like heâd struck you with lightning.
âYou did so good.â Dean murmurs, pulling slowly out. âThat was- Fuck, that was awesome.â
You smile in a dazed agreement, beaming up at him, and everything in Dean seems to soften. He presses a gentle kiss to your brow and pulls you upright, helping you settle in the bench before getting himself to work.
He tries to clean up the seats, but gives up fast and mumbles something about doing it back home. You were right in assuming your clothing was ruined, so Dean just gives you his shirt and wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding you against him for the drive home.
When you pull in to the garage, he doesnât give you a chance to try and walk. Youâre hauled into his arms like a princess and marched inside, Dean only pausing to wipe the back bench and stop a smell.
First stop is the bathroom. Then Dean offers to bring you to your bedâthe words weighted and reluctantâbut you shove your face into his neck and shake you head.
Dean. You need to be near Dean.
He carries you to his bed with a tall pride, and somehow manages to keep a hand on you as he changes into his own sweats. You cuddle into him, smiling when he presses a kiss to your brow.
âIf I forget this,â he murmurs. âRemind me in the morning.â
You laugh softly, voice quiet but returned. âIf you forget, Iâm going to kill you.â
âAnd I woulda earned that.â
âMh.â You curl further into his arms, andâunable to help itâwhisper. âDonât forget.â
Dean kisses the top of your head, words a lullaby as you drift off to slip.
âNever. Iâm yours now, sweetheart. Like it or not.â
You like it.
You donât think you could like it more if you tried. Â
âŚEnd note: deeply unfair that he isn't real. we gotta talk to someone about that.âŚ
âŚIf you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3âŚ
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I fucking hate when sheâs(you?? Idk) sitting on his face and sheâs like too scared to sit all the way an heâs like âsit down all the way I donât care if you crush meâ and sheâs like âoh no what if I kill youâ and then heâs like âthen Iâll die a happy manâ
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I love music bc a new album always comes out when Iâm in the midst of talking to a guy.
When espresso came out I was talking to this guy I really liked throughout high school and the entire short n sweet album is like⌠that was OUR (aka my album for him cause Iâm crazy).. and then we stopped talking and then I was like⌠hmm I should text him AND THEN SABRINA RELEASED MANCHILD and I was like. Alright then maybe not.. and then she released the MBF album and I was like yeah.. thank god I didnât text himâ AND THEN HE GOT A GIRL PREGNANT AND I WAS LIKE MEGA THANK GOD I DIDNT TEXT HIM OMG
And now Oliviaâs releasing and album and Iâm talking to a boy again.
Castiel Imagines {On The Walls Of Versailles} {} {}
Short Stories
sam winchester - in which you're a witch. with powers of psychometry (touching an object and discovering facts about events/people related to the object), and premonitions on your sleep. You're also Dean's best friend, year and a half younger. You've always shared a bed together during every hunt, you share secrets that not even Sam knows. One night you're utterly exhausted yet your brain won't allow you to sleep (insomnia kick started by your fear of sleeping), and Dean Winchester, the only person who can get you to fall asleep is already knocked out, taking up the entire matress leaving you with Sam. Sam who knows almost nothing about your powers, only a minor understanding of your insomnia.Â
                                     "    THE CURE    "
dean winchester - in which you die. bloody and messy and loud. and for two years your death settles on deans shoulders like a permanent stab wound, right to the heart. when jack and mary get stuck in apocolypse world, sam and dean and others venture to the other side through a rift. not only do they find their dead best friend charlie (only it's not erally her), dean finds you, but she's not you either. and suddenly that life sized hole in his chest is starting to heal. or is it?
                                   "    DROP DEAD    "
I know i write about smut/sex like.. a lot.. but itâs fucking weird how much everyoneâs gotten so obsessed with it.
Why is it every video? Why is it every conversation? And most importantly why is it in ads on fucking kids apps????
Everyoneâs brains are literally rotting from the amount of soft porn posted on the internet. And worst part? You donât even realize it.
ASMR=sex sounds
Obnoxious over consuming eating/drinking/muckbang videos=oral sex
Booktok=r4pe fantasies, kidnapping and abuse
Biketok=stalking, manipulation
And guess what? Women are top contributors to this. Every time you open a comment section on a guys thirst trap, itâs women âauditioningâ themselves for his approval.
Even the weirdos/outcasts/freaks are getting sexualized.
I love a good classic emo, now itâs all fake shit. No piercings, no funky hair dyes, no skinny jeans. And guess what? They only like anime and deftones. They sit in their monster covered bedrooms half naked on the internet talking bout sex all over the internet⌠gross first, second, they be covering half their face, showing their arm veins off like bro.. PUT THOSE AWAY EWWW. I never go the hype around the vein thing btw. But whatever floats your boat. (I blocked like almost every fake emo who was just posting nasty shit so I donât exactly have examples at the moment)
Plus the casually using mommy/daddy and calling your friends that (as teenagers) is so gross. Gross gross gross.
And I am all for sexual liberation but it gets to a fucking point.
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I hate to tell you âblonde ruby would have never done thatâ bitches, but uhm⌠that was the mf plan all along I fear..
Like I been knew since I SAW HER ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD (as a blonde) âthis chick weird as hellâ okay⌠and then he saw her again??? Like okay be so fr i never trusted her.
And anyone saying that brunette ruby ruined the show/tricked you, you got played too!
As much as I love Dean Winchester and heâs the love of my life and I canât get married to anyone who doesnât perfectly embody him (metaphorically ofc I know Iâd die in a heartbeat if monsters were real, Iâm not a fighter)
Destiel was the reason why I started watching. I kept seeing edits of them on my fyp a few years ago and I was like alright.. I need to see what all the hype is around these guys and well now Iâm here
And I just wanna say: thereâs a Dean Winchester x angel reader in writing and I was lowk writing it with Dean x reader x Cas in mind. And truthfully, almost every Dean x angel reader⌠Castiel is lowk a +1âŚ
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So.. hereâs my shitty excuse as to why I havenât written in.. well months.
So I stopped going to the chiropractor.. because I no longer qualify for health insurance đ¤ŠđđđĽł
BS I KNOW
and I have scoliosis in my lower back + a lot of muscle tension (from my lack of dance) basically my muscles are REALLY strong, stronger than theyâre supposed to be which makes them tight and not flexible. Which inflames the muscles and makes it hard for me to sit up for long periods of time.
Plus a few of my ribs shifted out of place which makes is hard to take deep breathes which also means itâs harder for me to dance for extended periods of time, therefore Iâm not working out as I should be.
Dance is fun and all, but itâs kinda one of those things where you canât stop.
So now Iâm doing Pilates but itâs lonely and I donât have a lot of space/equipment (and Iâm not buying any)
So thatâs my excuse!
Currently Iâm writing a little and then laying down for a little, and then sitting up and writing more. Anyway thatâs it