#mimziwrites

Heat shouldn't be something debilitating to a big grown werewolf like you. It was like a period: it was just something you grinned and beared.

You still needed to be the (semi)functional (half)human being that everyone expected you to be, so you just never told anyone whenever it came around.

Not really lying; it's just conveniently not mentioning the truth.

Tonight, though, was really grinding your gears. More specifically, Dean was.

Usually, he didn't mind when you got close. You were physical with everyone, even Castiel. You lingered in personal space, always trailing 2 steps behind whoever you decided to shadow. Dean grew up with a little brother, so this was nothing.

So naturally, you were thrown off when Dean kept stepping away from you. You were feeling needy, yes, and also trying to silently garner his attention, but that was no excuse for him to demand his own air to breathe!

He mumbled something about "just wanting space", but you were too clouded by impulse (and hormones) to honor his request. He had a perfectly fine day, so you were confused about his now avoidant mood.

Little did you know, Dean hadn't been laid in 3 months. That might be a record for him, honestly. Right now, he would fuck anything that stood on two legs and could form the words "I consent" (verbally or otherwise).

Your desire to be unnecessarily close to Dean was getting him a little hot under the collar. I mean, come on. A fiesty werewolf (who also happened to be his smokin' hot best friend) wanted him all to themselves? It was something out of a shitty, kinky porno and Dean wasn't one to turn one of those down.

He sighed, laying his hands down on the table and letting his head hang down between his shoulders. What could he do? What could he say? "Sorry, I haven't gotten nookie in a few months and I'm kinda grouchy about not getting my rocks off"??? That isn't gonna cut it for his best friend.

Before he could mumble out a curse and feel sorry for himself, he felt a warm weight settle against his back. It was you, laying your chest against Dean's back. Your hands grasped at his jacket, finding the fabric of his shirt underneath.

He let out a grunt as your body weight leaned onto him. "Really? You couldn't bother Sam?" He griped, looking over his shoulder.

He was shocked to see you looking up at him like that, with half-lidded eyes and parted lips. Your warm cheek was smushed against the worn leather of his jacket, a small puddle of drool was already accumulating there.

"Dean.." you rasped, your warm, sweet breath hitting him like a tanker. "Of course I didn't bother Sam. The more you pull away, the more I need you."

Your pupils were blown wide, and your hair slightly stuck to your skin from the thin sheen of sweat you had collected. Uncontrollably, your hips started to grind slowly against his ass. A shaky breath hit the back of Dean's neck, and he new he was already in deep shit.

His hips rocked back against yours like he couldn't control himself—which was more than likely true. A low groan emitted from his chest, and your eyes rolled back at the long-awaited friction.

Your face fell against his neck. "God, you're so fucking sexy.." The growl came against his skin, barely restrained and heavy with desire. "I can't hold back anymore, Dean... fuck, I'm in rut and I can't hold back anymore. Could you-"

"Fuck, finally." Dean interrupted, as needy and desperate as you. "God, I feel like a nun with how long this dry spell has been."

His eagerness definitely turned you on. This grinding wasn't going to tide you over with how much you were working up an appetite. The fire was liquid hot, pooling in your belly and spilling out into your veins (and your pants).

You spun Dean around, pushing up between his legs and clumsily knocking him onto the table. With each rock of your hips, a heavy pant escaped your lips. His forehead rested against yours while you desperately ground your aching cock against the front of his jeans.

It was a messy, sloppy kiss full of need and bad decisions. Dean melted under your lips, and the big bad Dean Winchester being so submissive beneath you nearly had you popping the cap right there on the table.

"Oh, fuck..." You moaned, letting your tongue slip into his mouth.

Fuck, fuck, fuck..

The inside of his mouth was so warm and inviting, sending a violent throb down your dick. You whimpered loudly against his lips, and before you knew it, you were cumming so hard in your pants that your knees started shaking.

You hissed at the sudden force of your orgasm, pulling back from his loving mouth like you were burned. "H-h-holy ssshit!" You couldn't even recognize your voice with how wrecked it was, broken and debauched like a horny teenager.