𝓑.

𓏲ּ𝄢 the softest & dolliest 𓏲ּ𝄢

[kissandlace]

౨ৎ 𝐵𝒾𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒶. nineteen. she/her. angel wings. pink obsessed. dean winchester's sweetheart. cowboy boots. lace. jensen ackles. 2000s shows enthusiast. peonies. law. books. vanilla. deer eyes.

✮⋆˙ 18+ blog!!! ✮⋆˙ masterlist

note: English is not my first language, please excuse any grammar mistakes. All my work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only.

@brunettecherub is my personal blog for reposts and recs.

[kissandlace]

Plz make a part two to ur Soldier Boy fic or Dean  Winchester fic 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

۶ৎ Sweet revenge

Dean Winchester x f!reader

summary: after he teases you at the bar, you decide it's your time to shine. content: established relationship, smut MDNI, teasing, touching, submissive and pathetic dean, handjob wc: 846 notes: part 2 of this! i'm sorry it's short, i was working on something else

The motel door slams shut, the sound echoing like a gunshot through the cramped, mustard-colored room. Dean is just about to take off his leather jacket when you shove him hard, his back hitting the wall with a dull thud.

“Jesus, slow down, sweetheart," Dean chuckles, his voice a low rasp. He leans back, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his mouth, way too pleased with himself. "You're awfully eager."

You don’t answer. You step into his space. You grab his collar and yank him down, crashing your lips against his. You force your tongue past his teeth, sucking on it with a desperate, punishing hunger. Saliva pools between your lips, a wet, sliding sound filling the silence as you claim his mouth. The whole show he put on back at the bar made you incredibly mad and needy. It was cruel.

Dean groans, his hands instinctively sliding down to grip your waist, trying to pull you flush against him. You slap his hands away.

"Hands off," you command, your voice cold and steady.

Dean blinks, his green eyes clouded with confusion and sudden arousal. "What? Come on, don't do this now. I'm right here."

"You were right there at the bar, too," your fingers curl around the front of his shirt. "Touching me just enough to make me ache, then pulling away the second I needed more.“

He lets out a shaky breath, his chest heaving. "It was just a little tease. Helped you out.”

"No. Now it's my turn," your hand slides down his chest and the smugness on his face falters for half a second.

You reach down, your palm flattening against the heavy bulge in his denim jeans. Dean’s jaw visibly tightens. Your hand squeezes, feeling the thick, rigid length of his cock straining against the fabric. He is already rock hard, pulsing under your grip.

"Baby," Dean hisses, his head hitting the wall again. "You have no idea how much I want you right now."

He tries to reach for you again, his fingers grazing your hip. You slap his hands away once more. You know how much Dean loves having his hands on you.

"I told you," you lean in until your lips barely brush his, a small grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. "You don't get to touch. You just get to feel."

You begin to rub him, your hand moving in a slow, agonizing rhythm. You don’t unzip his jeans. You keep the denim between you, the rough fabric creating a friction that makes him whine. You focus on the head of his cock, grinding your palm in circular motions. You could feel the precum soak through the layers of cloth, making the denim damp and heavy. You lick your lips, the idea of him coming into his pants turning you on way too much.

"Please, sweetheart," Dean groans, his voice breaking. "Just let me… Let me get inside you."

"No," you whisper, your voice hot against his ear. "You're going to stay exactly where you are. You're going to take this until I'm satisfied."

You increase the pressure, your thumb digging into the base of his shaft. Dean's hips begin to jerk involuntarily, chasing your touch. His breathing turns into ragged, desperate pants, his eyes fluttering shut as you cup him.

"Shit, you're so hard, Dean," you mock softly. “You’re doing so good.”

"Shut up, dammit," he gasps, his voice strained. "Just... keep doing that. Don't stop."

You slow down. You stop completely actually. He lets out a strangled sound.

"Don't do that, baby," he pleads. "Don't stop now."

"Why? I thought you liked the tease," you kiss your favourite spot on his neck.

"Please," the word comes out so quiet, you barely catch it. "Keep going."

You start again, but faster this time. Your hand moves up and down his bulge. You finally unzip his fly, your hand reaching past his boxers and finding his hard cock. Keeping your pace, you stroke him, your thumb playing with the sensitive head of it.

"Fuck. I'm close," he chokes out, his voice a guttural growl. "Sweetheart, I can’t hold it anymore—“

"Do it," you mutter against his neck, intrerrupting him, enjoying every single second of his vulnerability. You pull out your hand from his jeans and boxers, gripping him through his clothes again. “Do it now.”

He lets out a small sound, almost a moan. You can feel him tense under your touch. Dean curses under his breath, his hips jerking forward. His cock pulses through the denim, semen soaking the material as he releases.

He slumps back against the wall, his breath coming in jagged sobs.

"You're a cruel woman," Dean says, his gaze dropping to yours. His cheeks were flushed, lips were parted and sweat drops were forming on his forehead. What a sight.

"You taught me everything I know," you grin, chuckling innocently and giving his bulge, where a wet spot formed on the front of his pants, a soft, mocking slap.

This might have become your favourite thing.

note: ugh please give me more ideas and requests, i'm feeling really unmotivated. also, ignore grammar mistakes and weird wording, finished it at 3 AM again...

[heartshapedjournal]

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Dad Jokes ⋆﹒༚𓂃⊹ ࣪ ˖

laughing at single dad!dean winchester's terrible dad jokes with his head resting in your lap

older!dean winchester x fem!reader

18+ dead dove: do not eat smut, fauxcest, use of dad/daddy, age-gap (both are aduts ofc), handjob, breast/nipple play, dean is a single dad, PERV!DEAN

wc: 847 words

notes: i'm on s9 of spn & i can't stop thinking about older stubble dean.. this is so short but hope you guys enjoy this ♡

“I was going to try an all almond diet, but that's just nuts,”  he laughs at his own joke 

You stifle a laugh, shaking your head—not because you find it funny, but because of how corny his joke is.

“Told ya, it’s funny,” he chirps, looking pleased with his terrible dad joke.

You roll your eyes; not believing he actually thinks his joke is funny.

“Come on, it’s not funny. Dad jokes aren’t funny; they’re corny and terrible, but okay, I admit, that’s what makes them funny somehow,” you admit with a grin.

He shrugs, clearly not offended at all.

“It's called dad jokes for a reason, sweetheart. I’m a dad, after all.”

“Mm... my daddy,” you say, running your fingers through his hair.

With his head resting in your lap on the couch, he looks up at your face.

“Me, your daddy?” Dean teases.

“Mhm, Dad,” you respond with a nod.

“Well... if I’m your dad, I don’t think I’m supposed to be doing this, am I?” he teases again, but this time he grabs your boob through your tank top to squeeze it.

“Daddy!” you giggle, tickled.

“Is Dad allowed to do this, sweetheart? Playing with your pretty little boob like this…” Dean grins, squeezing your boob.

You bite your lower lip a bit, nodding.

“Uh-huh, it’s okie if you’re the dad.”

Dean pinches your tank top at the chest, pulling it down to reveal your round, firm breasts and your hard nipples.

“Woah, why are my girl's nipples hard, baby? Why is that? Dad turns you on that bad?” he says, rubbing your nipple with his thumb.

A soft moan slips from your lips; you just nod at that.

“Say it, darling.”

“Yes, Dad,” you say, biting your lower lip again.

Dean teases one of your nipples with his thumb.

“Your nipple is asking Dad to suck it, isn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you hum.

He licks your nipple with his tongue; the warm sensation of his tongue tickles you.

“Daddy, one second" you say, taking off your tank top to give him better access to play with your boobs.

“My beautiful girl,” he mumbles.

Dean brings his head closer to your boobs to suckle on your nipple.

His lips press against your nipple, his mouth moving in a slow, sucking motion, with his eyes closed. You can even feel his stubble tickling the skin of your boobs. You run your fingers through his hair while your gaze rests on his charming face that’s sucking on your nipple like that right now.

He licks and swirls his tongue around your nipple while sucking on it, holding his erect cock through his boxers. You brush his hand away—the one that’s been stroking his erect cock—and replace it with your hand.

A moan escapes Dean’s mouth that’s sucking your nipple right now; his hand reaches for the waistband of his boxers, pulling the edge down just enough to reveal his cock a bit. Then you slide them down further so you can access his entire cock directly.

“Dad... Daddy, can I play with your cock?” you ask, acting all innocent.

With his mouth still sucking on your breast, Dean guides your hand to his cock, guiding you to wrap your hand around it and pump your hand up and down the shaft of his cock.

You giggle, “Daddy, I can do it myself.”

He lets out a muffled chuckle and lets go of his hand to let you have your way with his cock.

His eyes are tightly closed, the look on his face showing how much he’s enjoying the sensation of your soft hand pumping his cock like that.

“Mmh… Daddy’s cock so big,” you mumble, rubbing the tip of his cock with your thumb before tracing the veins that run along his cock.

Dean leaves a few hickies on your breasts before sucking on your nipple again. 

“Daddy!” you giggle, playfully squeezing his balls, making his hips thrust forward.

“Babygirl, I swear I’m going to cum here,” he pants, hoping you to stop squeezing his balls because it feels too damn good.

Well, yeah, now you’re taking your hand off his balls now, but only to spit into your palm and place your wet palm on his shaft, then start jerking him off again.

Dean’s sexy moan is muffled against your boobs.

“Let it out, Dad, I’ll taste it,” you tease, pumping his cock with your hand even harder.

His thick sperm spurts out of his cock with your hand still wrapped around his shaft.

He groans so loud. And it sounds so sexy.

Dean pulls his mouth away from your nipple to catch his breath, watching his sperm spurt out in a messy spray, covering your soft hand.

You can still feel his sperm trickling out, and he says, “Damn, baby. Your soft hand…”

You give him a huge, cheerful smile before bringing your hand—covered in his sperm—to your mouth to lick it off, letting it all slide down your throat.

“That’s my good girl,” he grins, wiping his sperm that’s smeared across your lips.

[kissandlace]

I love Cleo so much pls don’t go bald baby

[kissandlace]

۶ৎ Could be worse

Dean Winchester x f!reader

summary: you and dean get arrested while working a case together and are forced to spend the night in the same cell. content: unestablished relationship, smut, 18+ MDNI, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public space (possibility of getting caught) wc: around 2.2k i think, i don’t have my laptop notes: for those coming from my tiktok!

You don’t know how many hours it’s been.

The lights above you haven’t stopped buzzing and the hard bench beneath you is doing absolutely nothing for your back. And the only thing keeping you awake now is the sound of Dean’s footsteps pacing around the small space.

You sigh, shifting for what must be the hundredth time. “This sucks.”

Dean lets out a quiet laugh, stopping right in front of the metal bars. “Now you realise?”

You glance at him, rolling your eyes behind his back. You rest your head against the cold wall. “You got us arrested, Dean.”

At that, he turns around, pointing a mocking finger at you. “No, pretty sure you were there.”

You scoff. “I was trying to save your ass! You’re the one who started flirting with the deputy!”

Dean pauses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, and it almost worked. You gotta give it to me, sweetheart. I’m charming.”

"She called you a creep, Dean. And called backup.”

“Worth it,” he mutters as he flops down besides you on the bench, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Don’t act all innocent. You’re the one that made her follow us.”

The hunt had been supposed to be simple. Find the vampire, kill the vampire, get the hell out.

Instead, you ended up with an injured deputy, half a motel room destroyed, and the two of you thrown into the county jail while Sam was somewhere across town trying to figure out how to get you out. Hopefully.

Apparently, neither of you were going anywhere for the moment.

You let your head fall back against the wall with a groan, closing your eyes. “I can’t believe we’re spending the night in here.”

“Could be worse.”

You look at him incredulously. “How?”

Dean shrugs, glancing around the tiny cell. “Could be alone.”

You stare at him for a second. He gives you that familiar little smirk.

His gaze lingers on you for a brief moment before his expression changes. His eyes move over your face, searching for something.

“You okay?" he asks, his voice dropping an octave. He reaches out, his thumb brushing a smudge of soot from your cheek. His touch is surprisingly gentle, a stark contrast to the jagged energy he'd carried since the arrest. "That thing nearly took your head off before the cops rolled in."

His touch sends goosebumps through your body. "I'm fine, Dean. Barely a scratch."

“You took a risk," he said, his jaw tightening.

You sigh, already feeling his scold coming. “Here we go.”

"A stupid one. You jumped in front of me.” he continued, ignoring you. “Also the whole deputy thing. Why the hell would you do that?"

“Because you were distracted," you counter. “And because you were stupid thinking that flirting would work.”

Dean scoffs, shaking his head slowly. “I was definitely not distracted. I told you had it handled.”

You roll your eyes, laughing despite yourself. “Yeah. Totally.”

Dean groans, leaning his head back against the concrete. After a moment, his head turns towards you, giving you that stupid smirk again. “Gotta admit, sweetheart. You’re not the worst cellmate I’ve ever had.”

You grin to yourself, your eyes meeting his. “Yeah? And you’ve had how many cellmates?”

“Well…” he pauses. “…not that many. Still, you might be my favourite one,” he admits, shifting on the bench for more comfort and exhaling loudly. “But never do that again. I’m serious. You could’ve injured yourself, sweetheart.”

At his words, your head snaps up. There’s a moment of silence between you two before you swallow hard and talk again. “Dean, look at me."

He turns, his green eyes meeting yours, and for once there’s no teasing smile, no sarcastic remark waiting on the tip of his tongue. Just pure concern.

You can’t help yourself. You reach out, cupping his jaw gently. “I'm right here," you whisper. "I'm not going anywhere. And I’m fine.”

His eyes soften as he locks them with yours once again. They flick down to your lips before quickly returning to your eyes. “Yeah. I guess you are.”

He pulls away suddenly, as if he’s caught himself being too vulnerable. He clears his throat and turns his head away from you, pretending to look ahead. “God, this is boring.”

You let out a quiet laugh, a bitter sound. “You tell me.”

Dean leans back, stretching his arms out.

For a while, neither of you says anything.

Then, you feel his gaze on you. You turn your head, and there he was, staring at you. Not casually, either.

His eyes slowly wander over your face. When he realises you’ve caught him, he gives you an awkward little grin.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing.”

“You were staring.”

“Was not.”

“You definitely were.”

Dean raises one eyebrow. His voice comes out smaller than it should’ve. “Maybe I like what I’m lookin’ at.”

Your heart skips a beat. He looks away first.

You don’t know what comes over you. Maybe it’s the exhaustion and adrenaline finally wearing off. Maybe it’s the fact that you’ve spent the last few hours trapped in a tiny space with a man you’ve been trying very hard not to think about.

But the way he looked at you… Like he was scared and hungry. Maybe you’re imagining it. You kind of wish you weren’t, though.

Whatever it is, you shift closer to him, your thigh brushing against his. It’s awkward. But you just need to know. If it’s real. If it’s just you.

Dean’s head turns to you. He doesn’t pull away. He freezes. His jaw works, like he’s contemplating something. Neither of you moves away anyways.

You swallow hard, biting down your bottom lip nervously. “Dean… I—“

Your words die in your throat as his lips crash onto yours.

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was a collision. He groans, his tongue pushing past your lips to claim your mouth with a hunger that had been simmering for months probably.

You kiss him back with equal fervor, your tongue dancing with his, exchanging saliva in a messy, urgent rhythm. Dean's hand found the back of your neck, his fingers digging into your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat. He trailed kisses down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin.

“Dean—“ you whimper as his teeth nibble at your neck. His hand comes to cover your mouth, muffling your soft cries.

“Shh, sweetheart. We don’t want anyone hearing now, do we?”

You nod slowly. He shifts, pushing you back against the bench. He fumbles with the belt of your jeans, his fingers hurried. He lets out a curse when the button snagged, but he persists, eventually shoving the denim and underwear down your thighs. You help him, kicking your shoes off and arching your back as his hand found your center.

You gasp as his fingers encounter the soaking wetness of your pussy. His fingers tease you, thumb circling your sensitive clit. He slides two fingers inside you, the sound of a wet, squelching thud echoing in the quiet cell. You cry out into his hand, your head snapping back against the wall, small sounds of pleasure escaping your lips.

“God, you're so wet f’me, baby," Dean groans, his voice raw.

You whimper underneath him, rocking your hips forward. You try speaking through muffled sounds as he pushed his thumb inside your mouth. “Dean, please.”

He works his fingers inside you, curling them to find your clit. You grind your hips upward, desperately as he pushes a third finger in, stretching you good.

“Yeah, you like that, baby? Feel good?”

All you could do was nod, feeling all numb and aching. You feel your pleasure building as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your hole. When his thumb left your mouth to rub your clit, you lost it, soaking his fingers with your juice.

You pant, your release exhausting you. He pulls his fingers out, sucking on them. “Fuck, sweetheart, you taste so good.”

Dean groans, his own need becoming unbearable. He couldn’t take it anymore, his hands finding the metal of his buckle. His cock pulls out of his jeans, thick and pulsing. The head is already glistening with a bead of precum. God, he is so big. It makes you drool. You take a quick look around, making sure no one’s there.

You reach down, managing to wrap your fingers around the shaft. He was scorching hot, the skin tight and veined.

With all your power left after the heavenly orgasm, you get on your knees, your hand not once leaving his cock.

Your eyes look up at him as you open your mouth and stick the tip of his cock into your mouth. You wrap your lips around his tip and you go down, taking him in your mouth inch by inch.

“Shit,” he whispers, his head falling back. “That’s it.”

He grabs your hair, guiding your head up and down his cock, making you gag on it a few times. He is way too big for your mouth. Your fingers wrap around the base, where your mouth couldn’t get. Tears well up in your eyes.

He forcefully pulls you away, your mouth making a pop sound, a string of saliva joining at the corner of your mouth and his cock.

“I need you,” he mutters, helping you up and pushing you down on the rigid bench. “I need to be inside you, baby.”

He positions himself, the head of his cock brushing against your opening. He pushes forward in one slow, deliberate motion. You gasp, your muscles stretching to accommodate his girth.

Dean lets out a long, shuddering breath. He stays still for a moment, letting you both adjust to the fullness. Then, he finally begins to move.

He pulls back until he is almost out, then slams back in with a forceful thrust that shakes your entire frame, his fingers into your mouth again.

“Fuck, you feel so tight," Dean groans, his mouth finding yours into a deep kiss.

He picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster and more erratic. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, wanting to feel every inch of him.

You could feel the heat building again, a coil of tension tightening in your gut. Dean's movements are more desperate, his chest heaving, sweat dripping from his brow and landing on your skin. He shifts his angle, hitting your G-spot better. You begin to shake, your walls clenching around him.

“Dean... I’m— I'm close. So close," you whimper against his lips.

“Do it, sweetheart," he commands, his voice strained. "Come for me."

Your legs are trembling around him, a violent wave of orgasms crashing over you. Your pussy contracts in rhythmic spasms, milking his cock with an intensity that nearly breaks him. You scream into his shoulder, trying to muffle your cries, your nails digging into his back.

Dean thrusts inside you a few more times before he buries himself as deep as possible inside you, his cock pulsing as he shots his load deep inside your cunt.

You could feel the warmth of his cum filling you, a hot, thick flood that spills over as he finally collapses against you. He stays there for a long time, his breath ragged, the only sound in the cell being the hum of the light and the synchronized thumping of two hearts.

Eventually, Dean is forced to pull out with a wet sound, making you feel so empty.

He looks down at the mess on your thighs, a mixture of sweat and semen, and a small grin touched his lips.

He leans in, kissing you softly this time, a slow exchange of saliva that felt like a promise.

“Wasn’t lying. Best cellmate I've ever had,” he whispers, his face buried into your neck.

“Don't let it go to your head," you chuckle softly through ragged breaths.

You spend the next two hours in a comfortable, exhausted silence, leaning against each other. Dean keeps his arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you tight against his side.

Neither of you says much.

The moment of peace is shattered by the sound of heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway. Both of you jump. Dean stands up, his face instantly shifting back into the mask of the cocky, unfazed hunter.

His shoulders relax almost instantly when a familiar tall man enters. “About damn time," Dean yells toward the bars.

Sam appears around the corner, looking exhausted. He is wearing a suit that looked slightly too small for him, carrying a ring of keys and a small bag of food. “Sorry. It took me forever to convince the sheriff that—“

He stops dead, looking at the two of you. His eyes travel from your flushed faces to the slightly disheveled state of your clothing.

Sam sighs, a look of profound disappointment crossing his face as he closes his eyes. “Please, for the love of God, tell me you didn't."

“Didn't what?" Dean asks, his voice dripping with fake innocence.

Sam exhales loudly, staring at him with a not too surprised expression. “…nevermind.”

He looks down at the keys, finds the right one and unlocks the cell. Then, he holds up the small bag. “Food?”

note: Ugh, I need to get better at smut. It’s too basic. Please excuse any grammar mistakes. I finished it at 3 AM. Literally. Also, english’s not my first language, so ignore any weird wording.

[kissandlace]

Masterlist

Dean Winchester:

Unfair- Dean Winchester x f!reader

Sweet revenge- Part 2 of Unfair

Could be worse- Dean Winchester x f!reader

Soldier Boy:

Soldier Boy doing lines off your chest

Beau Arlen:

How real men do it- dbf!Beau Arlen x f!reader

[kissandlace]

۶ৎ How real men do it

dbf!Beau Arlen x f!reader

summary: your dad's best friend ends up showing you how real men actually do it. content: secret relationship, age gap (reader is in her 20s, beau is in his 40s), 18+ MDNI, smut, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), praising, soft beau wc: 1175 notes: god i love older men

Once again, another dangerous crime had shaken your town. And of course, your parents had come to the very reasonable conclusion that their twenty-something daughter was incapable of surviving one weekend alone.

Luckily for them, your dad’s best friend happened to be the sheriff.

Now he was over at your place, his mouth crashing onto yours as he carried you up the stairs, to your room.

You and Beau have been sneaking around for the past week, but your father didn’t know. Beau insisted that you keep it a secret, for your dad’s sake, he said. You couldn’t pretend it didn’t sting a little. You wanted to hold his hand in public, kiss him without looking over your shoulder, just like all your friends did with their boyfriends. But you understood. Beau valued his friendship with your dad far too much to risk it, and you respected that.

And honestly, there was something thrilling about sneaking around with him. Maybe it was the stolen kisses when no one was looking. Or maybe it was simply Beau.

After your last relationship, which was also your first, you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be genuinely cared for.

“God, darlin’, missed you so much,” he groaned against your lips, pushing the door open with his back as he guided the both of you to your room. He pressed you back against the mattress, him hovering over you, your dress sliding up from the movement. “Almost forgot what you tasted like.”

“I missed you too, Beau.” you giggled underneath him, your hand wrapped around his neck. His hands were roaming your curves gently, lips kissing at your neck. His fingers found the lace of your panties, teasing, sliding a finger beneath the elastic to find you already slick and aching. He let out a low whistle.

“Look at that,” he whispered, his head pulling back from your neck to look at you. “You’re practically beggin’ for me, sweetheart.”

“Beau… stop teasing,” you whimpered, rocking your hips to feel his fingers against your skin.

He pushed the lace down your thighs, his fingers flicking your clit once before diving deep into your heat. You arched your back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. His fingers began to move in and out, his thumb circling your clit with a rhythmic precision. Beau’s hand shifted, guiding your legs wider as he began lowering himself down your body.

Panic spiked through you. You instinctively pushed his shoulders back, distancing him from you.

Beau froze, blinking up at you. He looked confused and worried, immediately placing a hand on your cheek.

“Did I do somethin’ wrong, darlin’?” his voice was soft, filled with worry.

You looked away, your cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “No… No it’s not you.”

“Then talk to me, sweetheart. What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

You were pathetic. All your friends were bragging on about how good it feels, yet there you were, pushing the occasion away. “I’ve never… had anyone do that. Rob never wanted to do it. Said it was gross.” You paused, exhaling loudly. “I guess I just feel… embarrassed.”

Beau’s expression softened visibly. He brushed a stray hair from your forehead. “Look at me,” his command was gentle.

You met his green eyes.

“You ain’t got nothin’ to be embarrassed about, sweetheart.” His voice was steady and warm. “Your body is a goddamn miracle. And if that boy didn’t know how to appreciate it, then it’s his loss.” He placed a soft kiss to your lips. “I‘m a grown man. And I know that it’s a coward move not to make your girl feel good.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling so small and timid.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his thumb stroking your knee gently. “Do you trust me, sweetheart?”

“I do.” You nodded almost instantly, because you really did. Beau was nothing but gentle and kind with you.

“Then, relax, kid,” he whispered, his hand moving slowly and surely up your inner thigh. “I‘m gonna show you how real men do it.”

He didn’t give you much time to overthink it. He slid back down your body, kissing the insides of your thighs, his beard tickling your soft skin. He lingered above your aching cunt, his breath ghosting over you. You sucked in a breath as his tongue finally made contact with your clit.

You let out a strangled cry, clutching the bedsheets. He lazily drags his tongue over your clit, a low humming sound vibrating from his throat, swirling around the sensitive bud with a rhythmic pressure that sent electric shocks straight to your core.

“God, sweetheart, you taste like heaven,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice muffled.

The sensation was overwhelming. One of his hands holds your thigh in place, making sure you’re spread enough, the other finding your clit and flicking it gently as his tongue dragged over your folds. When you stared down, all you could see were his green eyes staring at you and your wetness shining on his beard as he licks his lips.

It was lewd. And you loved it.

He used his fingers to open you wider, his tongue diving deep. Your legs began to shake, your hips involuntarily bucking against him. The combination of his tongue, teeth and fingers was heavenly. Fuck Rob for never wanting to do it. He didn't have a problem with your lips wrapped around his cock.

"Oh god," you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Please don't stop, Beau."

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Beau groaned, sensing your build up. “Just let it go. Give it all to me. Doing so good f'me.”

He increased the pace, his tongue working faster, hungrier. You felt the tension building, a coil tightening in your belly.

“Beau…” his name came broken out of your mouth.

Your whimpers and cries only fed his own ego, his teeth grazing your clit and his finger pushing inside you. It was all too much. That’s when you fall apart, your body trembling.

Beau didn’t pull away immediately. He lingered, dragging his tongue once more over your folds to collect your juice before kissing the damp skin of your thighs.

All you could hear was the two of you panting for a few beats until Beau broke the silence.

“You okay, kid?” His voice was raspy, licking his lips as he moved and flopped down besides you.

“Holy shit…” you giggled. You couldn’t help it. Beau Arlen might’ve actually just melted a few of your brain cells. “That was…” You scoffed, throwing an arm over your face to hide the blush building because of what you just did. No fucking way that happened. And no fucking way it was that good. “…amazing.”

He chuckles, a low sound coming from the back of his throat. “Yeah, told you I’ll make you feel good, darlin’.”

You turned your head to look at him, a little shy. “Can we do that again?”

He was actually laughing now, pulling you closer and keeping you pressed against his chest. He placed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Anytime you want, kid. Promise.”

[kissandlace]

۶ৎ How real men do it

dbf!Beau Arlen x f!reader

summary: your dad's best friend ends up showing you how real men actually do it. content: secret relationship, age gap (reader is in her 20s, beau is in his 40s), 18+ MDNI, smut, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), praising, soft beau wc: 1175 notes: god i love older men

Once again, another dangerous crime had shaken your town. And of course, your parents had come to the very reasonable conclusion that their twenty-something daughter was incapable of surviving one weekend alone.

Luckily for them, your dad’s best friend happened to be the sheriff.

Now he was over at your place, his mouth crashing onto yours as he carried you up the stairs, to your room.

You and Beau have been sneaking around for the past week, but your father didn’t know. Beau insisted that you keep it a secret, for your dad’s sake, he said. You couldn’t pretend it didn’t sting a little. You wanted to hold his hand in public, kiss him without looking over your shoulder, just like all your friends did with their boyfriends. But you understood. Beau valued his friendship with your dad far too much to risk it, and you respected that.

And honestly, there was something thrilling about sneaking around with him. Maybe it was the stolen kisses when no one was looking. Or maybe it was simply Beau.

After your last relationship, which was also your first, you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be genuinely cared for.

“God, darlin’, missed you so much,” he groaned against your lips, pushing the door open with his back as he guided the both of you to your room. He pressed you back against the mattress, him hovering over you, your dress sliding up from the movement. “Almost forgot what you tasted like.”

“I missed you too, Beau.” you giggled underneath him, your hand wrapped around his neck. His hands were roaming your curves gently, lips kissing at your neck. His fingers found the lace of your panties, teasing, sliding a finger beneath the elastic to find you already slick and aching. He let out a low whistle.

“Look at that,” he whispered, his head pulling back from your neck to look at you. “You’re practically beggin’ for me, sweetheart.”

“Beau… stop teasing,” you whimpered, rocking your hips to feel his fingers against your skin.

He pushed the lace down your thighs, his fingers flicking your clit once before diving deep into your heat. You arched your back, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. His fingers began to move in and out, his thumb circling your clit with a rhythmic precision. Beau’s hand shifted, guiding your legs wider as he began lowering himself down your body.

Panic spiked through you. You instinctively pushed his shoulders back, distancing him from you.

Beau froze, blinking up at you. He looked confused and worried, immediately placing a hand on your cheek.

“Did I do somethin’ wrong, darlin’?” his voice was soft, filled with worry.

You looked away, your cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “No… No it’s not you.”

“Then talk to me, sweetheart. What’s going on inside that head of yours?”

You were pathetic. All your friends were bragging on about how good it feels, yet there you were, pushing the occasion away. “I’ve never… had anyone do that. Rob never wanted to do it. Said it was gross.” You paused, exhaling loudly. “I guess I just feel… embarrassed.”

Beau’s expression softened visibly. He brushed a stray hair from your forehead. “Look at me,” his command was gentle.

You met his green eyes.

“You ain’t got nothin’ to be embarrassed about, sweetheart.” His voice was steady and warm. “Your body is a goddamn miracle. And if that boy didn’t know how to appreciate it, then it’s his loss.” He placed a soft kiss to your lips. “I‘m a grown man. And I know that it’s a coward move not to make your girl feel good.”

“Yeah?” you say, feeling so small and timid.

“Yeah,” he whispered, his thumb stroking your knee gently. “Do you trust me, sweetheart?”

“I do.” You nodded almost instantly, because you really did. Beau was nothing but gentle and kind with you.

“Then, relax, kid,” he whispered, his hand moving slowly and surely up your inner thigh. “I‘m gonna show you how real men do it.”

He didn’t give you much time to overthink it. He slid back down your body, kissing the insides of your thighs, his beard tickling your soft skin. He lingered above your aching cunt, his breath ghosting over you. You sucked in a breath as his tongue finally made contact with your clit.

You let out a strangled cry, clutching the bedsheets. He lazily drags his tongue over your clit, a low humming sound vibrating from his throat, swirling around the sensitive bud with a rhythmic pressure that sent electric shocks straight to your core.

“God, sweetheart, you taste like heaven,” he mumbled against your skin, his voice muffled.

The sensation was overwhelming. One of his hands holds your thigh in place, making sure you’re spread enough, the other finding your clit and flicking it gently as his tongue dragged over your folds. When you stared down, all you could see were his green eyes staring at you and your wetness shining on his beard as he licks his lips.

It was lewd. And you loved it.

He used his fingers to open you wider, his tongue diving deep. Your legs began to shake, your hips involuntarily bucking against him. The combination of his tongue, teeth and fingers was heavenly. Fuck Rob for never wanting to do it. He didn't have a problem with your lips wrapped around his cock.

"Oh god," you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Please don't stop, Beau."

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Beau groaned, sensing your build up. “Just let it go. Give it all to me. Doing so good f'me.”

He increased the pace, his tongue working faster, hungrier. You felt the tension building, a coil tightening in your belly.

“Beau…” his name came broken out of your mouth.

Your whimpers and cries only fed his own ego, his teeth grazing your clit and his finger pushing inside you. It was all too much. That’s when you fall apart, your body trembling.

Beau didn’t pull away immediately. He lingered, dragging his tongue once more over your folds to collect your juice before kissing the damp skin of your thighs.

All you could hear was the two of you panting for a few beats until Beau broke the silence.

“You okay, kid?” His voice was raspy, licking his lips as he moved and flopped down besides you.

“Holy shit…” you giggled. You couldn’t help it. Beau Arlen might’ve actually just melted a few of your brain cells. “That was…” You scoffed, throwing an arm over your face to hide the blush building because of what you just did. No fucking way that happened. And no fucking way it was that good. “…amazing.”

He chuckles, a low sound coming from the back of his throat. “Yeah, told you I’ll make you feel good, darlin’.”

You turned your head to look at him, a little shy. “Can we do that again?”

He was actually laughing now, pulling you closer and keeping you pressed against his chest. He placed a soft kiss to your forehead. “Anytime you want, kid. Promise.”

[bandagedthoughtsblog]

[kissandlace]

۶ৎ Thinking of...

Soldier Boy doing lines off your chest!

summary: Soldier Boy finds a new way to cure his boredom. content: f!reader, age gap, use of drugs, slightly NSFW, teasing (touching), use of petnames (doll, kid), soldier boy being a dom, manipulation kinda wc: 862 notes: nothing just bored soldier boy using you

Butcher has left you yet once again with the simplest task: watching over Soldier Boy. He sat on the dirty motel mattress, eyes fixed on the television and occasionally complaining, the four walls you were stuck inside not offering many options for the neither of you. He didn’t look at you and didn’t have to.

You leaned against the door, just observing him and wondering how exactly you’d ended up in this situation. This has been your task for a few days now, babysitting the dangerous relic. And, embarrassingly enough, you couldn’t deny that you’d been enjoying it. Maybe a little too much.

Every time Soldier Boy’s eyes wandered in your direction, your heart kicked against your ribs and your panties melted instantly. The way he checked you out with no shame, his eyes dragging over you slowly and the corner of his lips twitching whenever you caught him staring. Sure, he was intimidating as hell, but god, he was so good looking and definitely eye-fucking you from across the room. You were pathetic, that's what you were.

“Stop hoverin’, doll. It's distracting." Soldier Boy didn't look up from the TV as he spoke, a few neat cocaine lines sorted on the table in front of him.

You didn’t answer because you knew better than to argue with a ticking bomb, choosing to roll your eyes and fold your arms instead.

Soldier Boy finally turned. His green eyes were predatory, dragging over your curves with a slow, possessive hunger, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he just got an idea. “Wanna do lines off ya, doll.” He jerked his chin toward the table.

You blinked, confused, your breath hitching. “Excuse you?”

A rough chuckle rumbled through his chest. He patted his thigh, a command more than an invitation.

“C’mere. Make yourself useful, would ya?”

Normally, you wouldn’t allow anyone to manhandle you like that. But you just couldn’t control yourself when it came to him. Tending his needs seemed to be your responsibility in the past days. Pathetic, again.

Instead, your feet moved before your brain could catch up. You approached him slowly until you stood between his spread legs.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you onto his lap with enough force to steal the breath from your lungs. You landed on his lap with a thud, your thighs straddling his hips.

He reached for the white powder on the table, his movements lazy and entitled. “Stay still. Don’t wanna waste a grain.”

He shoved his palm into the small of your back, arching your spine to create a flat surface across your chest. Your comfort was not his priority. His fingers brushed away the strands of hair covering your cleavage.

The sensation of the powder on your chest was strange, his fingers carefully straightening it into the perfect line. He glanced up, pointing a finger at you with a serious expression. “Don’t fuck this up, kid.”

You sucked in a breath, fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulder, completely intoxicated by him. He leans in, his nose tickling your skin as he inhaled the drugs. The action sent goosebumps down your body, your back arching further as he took the hit. Every breath you took felt heavy, synchronized with his rhythmic inhales.

He leaned back, admiring the smudged powder on your chest and grinning, like it was some kind of artwork, looking far too pleased with himself. “Now, that was a good fuckin’ line.”

Soldier Boy’s eyes snapped to yours, pupils wide as the chemical hit in, swallowing the green of his irises. He kept one hand on your hip with a bruising grip, the other slowly travelling over your body and resting just under your breast. “You’re a quiet thing, aren’t ya?”

You swallowed, your heart pounding faster as his hand cupped your breast, giving it a hard squeeze that forced a cry from your lips.

“There she is.” he chuckled, his thumb circling your nipple through your shirt with a brutally slow pace.

A whimper escaped your lips, nails digging harder into his shoulders. You would be lying if you said that he wasn’t making you wet. It was even harder with your aching cunt rubbing against his obvious hard on.

His grin returned. “I’m not gonna bite ya, doll. Unless you’re into that.”

Heat rushed to your face, feeling so dirty on his lap, all drowning down there for him.

“Good girl.” He said it almost too casually, like he knew what those two words did to you. “Did so good f’me today.” His praises were definitely working on you. Embarrassment long gone, just needing him to continue touching you, to use you like a training doll.

But he shoved you off his lap with a careless force, rolling a cigarette and lighting it with a steady hand. He took a slow drag, finally glancing at you through the smoke. “Think you’re gonna be worth keepin’ around then, doll. ‘Bout to have lots of fun with ya.” His attention turned to you suddenly, exhaling a cloud of grey smoke directly over your face. “Got some more ideas I wanna try later.”

[kissandlace]

۶ৎ Thinking of...

Soldier Boy doing lines off your chest!

summary: Soldier Boy finds a new way to cure his boredom. content: f!reader, age gap, use of drugs, slightly NSFW, teasing (touching), use of petnames (doll, kid), soldier boy being a dom, manipulation kinda wc: 862 notes: nothing just bored soldier boy using you

Butcher has left you yet once again with the simplest task: watching over Soldier Boy. He sat on the dirty motel mattress, eyes fixed on the television and occasionally complaining, the four walls you were stuck inside not offering many options for the neither of you. He didn’t look at you and didn’t have to.

You leaned against the door, just observing him and wondering how exactly you’d ended up in this situation. This has been your task for a few days now, babysitting the dangerous relic. And, embarrassingly enough, you couldn’t deny that you’d been enjoying it. Maybe a little too much.

Every time Soldier Boy’s eyes wandered in your direction, your heart kicked against your ribs and your panties melted instantly. The way he checked you out with no shame, his eyes dragging over you slowly and the corner of his lips twitching whenever you caught him staring. Sure, he was intimidating as hell, but god, he was so good looking and definitely eye-fucking you from across the room. You were pathetic, that's what you were.

“Stop hoverin’, doll. It's distracting." Soldier Boy didn't look up from the TV as he spoke, a few neat cocaine lines sorted on the table in front of him.

You didn’t answer because you knew better than to argue with a ticking bomb, choosing to roll your eyes and fold your arms instead.

Soldier Boy finally turned. His green eyes were predatory, dragging over your curves with a slow, possessive hunger, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, like he just got an idea. “Wanna do lines off ya, doll.” He jerked his chin toward the table.

You blinked, confused, your breath hitching. “Excuse you?”

A rough chuckle rumbled through his chest. He patted his thigh, a command more than an invitation.

“C’mere. Make yourself useful, would ya?”

Normally, you wouldn’t allow anyone to manhandle you like that. But you just couldn’t control yourself when it came to him. Tending his needs seemed to be your responsibility in the past days. Pathetic, again.

Instead, your feet moved before your brain could catch up. You approached him slowly until you stood between his spread legs.

His hands gripped your waist, pulling you onto his lap with enough force to steal the breath from your lungs. You landed on his lap with a thud, your thighs straddling his hips.

He reached for the white powder on the table, his movements lazy and entitled. “Stay still. Don’t wanna waste a grain.”

He shoved his palm into the small of your back, arching your spine to create a flat surface across your chest. Your comfort was not his priority. His fingers brushed away the strands of hair covering your cleavage.

The sensation of the powder on your chest was strange, his fingers carefully straightening it into the perfect line. He glanced up, pointing a finger at you with a serious expression. “Don’t fuck this up, kid.”

You sucked in a breath, fingers digging into the muscle of his shoulder, completely intoxicated by him. He leans in, his nose tickling your skin as he inhaled the drugs. The action sent goosebumps down your body, your back arching further as he took the hit. Every breath you took felt heavy, synchronized with his rhythmic inhales.

He leaned back, admiring the smudged powder on your chest and grinning, like it was some kind of artwork, looking far too pleased with himself. “Now, that was a good fuckin’ line.”

Soldier Boy’s eyes snapped to yours, pupils wide as the chemical hit in, swallowing the green of his irises. He kept one hand on your hip with a bruising grip, the other slowly travelling over your body and resting just under your breast. “You’re a quiet thing, aren’t ya?”

You swallowed, your heart pounding faster as his hand cupped your breast, giving it a hard squeeze that forced a cry from your lips.

“There she is.” he chuckled, his thumb circling your nipple through your shirt with a brutally slow pace.

A whimper escaped your lips, nails digging harder into his shoulders. You would be lying if you said that he wasn’t making you wet. It was even harder with your aching cunt rubbing against his obvious hard on.

His grin returned. “I’m not gonna bite ya, doll. Unless you’re into that.”

Heat rushed to your face, feeling so dirty on his lap, all drowning down there for him.

“Good girl.” He said it almost too casually, like he knew what those two words did to you. “Did so good f’me today.” His praises were definitely working on you. Embarrassment long gone, just needing him to continue touching you, to use you like a training doll.

But he shoved you off his lap with a careless force, rolling a cigarette and lighting it with a steady hand. He took a slow drag, finally glancing at you through the smoke. “Think you’re gonna be worth keepin’ around then, doll. ‘Bout to have lots of fun with ya.” His attention turned to you suddenly, exhaling a cloud of grey smoke directly over your face. “Got some more ideas I wanna try later.”

[kissandlace]

۶ৎ Unfair

Dean Winchester x f!reader

summary: Dean knows exactly how to help you stay awake. content: established relationship, slightly NSFW (teasing, touching, public space) wc: 856 notes: omg first fic ever posted getting nervous

The air in the bar smells of stale beer and cheap whiskey. It’s just as crowded as you expected, after all, it was a Friday night. You find an empty round table somewhere in a corner, taking a seat directly in front of Sam, Dean choosing to push his chair closer to yours.

Another successful hunt leaves you feeling hollowed out and exhausted. The three of you order your drinks— well, really, the only one ordering was Dean, drowning down his whiskey as his hand rested on your thigh. Across the table, Sam was mid-sentence, pulling out his phone and staring at it with a puzzled expression. Bobby called him earlier about a possible case in Nebraska, something about some teenage girls disappearing.

You nod slowly, your eyelids feeling like lead weights as you yawn.

“You okay? Sleepy?” Dean asks, leaning closer, his nose brushing your neck.

You nod, closing your eyes for a second too long. “A little.”

Dean pulls back just enough to look at you, wearing that cocky grin of his, but his eyes were soft as they loomed over your tired face, nodding slowly. His fingers on your thigh began tracing small circles as he turned his attention back to Sam, continuing his conversation.

You completely space out, exhaling loudly. Leaning back into the chair, you try refocusing on Sam. New case. Hitting the road again. Girls disappearing. Some old pattern that keeps happening in that exact town. Sounds simple enough, you think. Hopefully after this case you could actually get a break. Your eyes flutter shut, already imagining how good sleeping in would feel.

But then you snap them open, wide and confused. Dean’s fingers have migrated. He slides his hand upward, the movement smooth. His fingertips trace over your panties, your breath hitching as he circles the thin lace. You swallow, gripping his bicep, your nails digging into the hard muscle as a silent plea for him to continue stop.

Dean smirks but he doesn’t flinch. Instead, he leans in and plants a soft, mocking kiss on your forehead.

His fingers press harder, rubbing against the center of your heat through the thin, wet fabric. You let out a small, involuntary whimper, making Sam stop talking and turn his attention to you. He frowns, his hazel eyes searching your face with genuine concern.  “Hey, you okay?”

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Clearing your throat, you nod rapidly and shift your weight, though the movement only makes Dean’s fingers press harder. “Yeah… Yeah, I just— tired. From the case. Got a little headache, too…”

Sam doesn’t look very convinced. He glances at Dean, who just shrugs innocently. Sam turns back to you, his eyes softening, noticing the sweat forming on your forehead and the red in your cheeks. “Need something? Seriously, you look like—“

“Water,” you say, nodding quickly. “Just water.”

Sam gets up and heads towards the bar, leaving you and Dean alone. Dean grins, leaning in and nipping at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. “Thirsty, sweetheart?”

You whine, leaning your head backwards and cursing under your breath. You shift your weight again, slowly and carefully, chasing the friction of his hand. God, you want him to push through the lace and touch your bare skin. To thrust his long fingers into your hole. But he doesn’t. He pulls away, leaving you hot and aching.

“This isn’t fair.” you groan, glancing at him with needy eyes.

Dean’s watching you, his green eyes dark with lust and amusement. He takes a slow sip of his whiskey, smiling as he does. “I helped you wake up, didn’t I?”

You let out a huff, pouting, but your thighs press together. “You’re supposed to finish what you started.”

He turns back to look at you, his smile widening. “Impatient girl. Wouldn’t feel as good if I just let you finish right away, would it?” He leans in, capturing your lips into a soft kiss, the kind that screams you’re the only person in the world for me. Your face burns from the embarrassment of how wet and filthy he made you feel, yet there he was, finding it extremely adorable. “You’re so gorgeous when you’re flustered, baby.”

You roll your eyes, trying to seem annoyed, but you can’t hide your smile. “I hate you.”

Dean chuckles, his hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. He leans in again, breath hot against your ear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of ya soon.” He plants a kiss to your lips again, deepening it this time, making you taste his whiskey on your tongue. “I know exactly how to make you feel better, sweetheart.” His cocky grin is back as he straightens, his fingers gripping your hip gently as a promise.

You open your mouth to argue, but Sam is back, sliding a cold glass of water in your direction. “Here.”

You take the glass with a grateful smile, but Dean suddenly gets up. “I think it’s time we go back, Sammy.” He glances at you, shooting you a quick wink. “I’m getting quite tired myself.”

author's note: This is my first fanfic posted. Please note that english is not my first language and I'm new to all of this, so I'm still learning. I'm just having fun and clumsily trying to write my ideas. Support and advice are more than welcome and I'll gladly take them! And I'm taking requests, this one was inspired by my friend's suggestion :)

[kissandlace]

۶ৎ Unfair

Dean Winchester x f!reader

summary: Dean knows exactly how to help you stay awake. content: established relationship, slightly NSFW (teasing, touching, public space) wc: 856 notes: omg first fic ever posted getting nervous

The air in the bar smells of stale beer and cheap whiskey. It’s just as crowded as you expected, after all, it was a Friday night. You find an empty round table somewhere in a corner, taking a seat directly in front of Sam, Dean choosing to push his chair closer to yours.

Another successful hunt leaves you feeling hollowed out and exhausted. The three of you order your drinks— well, really, the only one ordering was Dean, drowning down his whiskey as his hand rested on your thigh. Across the table, Sam was mid-sentence, pulling out his phone and staring at it with a puzzled expression. Bobby called him earlier about a possible case in Nebraska, something about some teenage girls disappearing.

You nod slowly, your eyelids feeling like lead weights as you yawn.

“You okay? Sleepy?” Dean asks, leaning closer, his nose brushing your neck.

You nod, closing your eyes for a second too long. “A little.”

Dean pulls back just enough to look at you, wearing that cocky grin of his, but his eyes were soft as they loomed over your tired face, nodding slowly. His fingers on your thigh began tracing small circles as he turned his attention back to Sam, continuing his conversation.

You completely space out, exhaling loudly. Leaning back into the chair, you try refocusing on Sam. New case. Hitting the road again. Girls disappearing. Some old pattern that keeps happening in that exact town. Sounds simple enough, you think. Hopefully after this case you could actually get a break. Your eyes flutter shut, already imagining how good sleeping in would feel.

But then you snap them open, wide and confused. Dean’s fingers have migrated. He slides his hand upward, the movement smooth. His fingertips trace over your panties, your breath hitching as he circles the thin lace. You swallow, gripping his bicep, your nails digging into the hard muscle as a silent plea for him to continue stop.

Dean smirks but he doesn’t flinch. Instead, he leans in and plants a soft, mocking kiss on your forehead.

His fingers press harder, rubbing against the center of your heat through the thin, wet fabric. You let out a small, involuntary whimper, making Sam stop talking and turn his attention to you. He frowns, his hazel eyes searching your face with genuine concern.  “Hey, you okay?”

You feel the heat rush to your cheeks. Clearing your throat, you nod rapidly and shift your weight, though the movement only makes Dean’s fingers press harder. “Yeah… Yeah, I just— tired. From the case. Got a little headache, too…”

Sam doesn’t look very convinced. He glances at Dean, who just shrugs innocently. Sam turns back to you, his eyes softening, noticing the sweat forming on your forehead and the red in your cheeks. “Need something? Seriously, you look like—“

“Water,” you say, nodding quickly. “Just water.”

Sam gets up and heads towards the bar, leaving you and Dean alone. Dean grins, leaning in and nipping at your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin. “Thirsty, sweetheart?”

You whine, leaning your head backwards and cursing under your breath. You shift your weight again, slowly and carefully, chasing the friction of his hand. God, you want him to push through the lace and touch your bare skin. To thrust his long fingers into your hole. But he doesn’t. He pulls away, leaving you hot and aching.

“This isn’t fair.” you groan, glancing at him with needy eyes.

Dean’s watching you, his green eyes dark with lust and amusement. He takes a slow sip of his whiskey, smiling as he does. “I helped you wake up, didn’t I?”

You let out a huff, pouting, but your thighs press together. “You’re supposed to finish what you started.”

He turns back to look at you, his smile widening. “Impatient girl. Wouldn’t feel as good if I just let you finish right away, would it?” He leans in, capturing your lips into a soft kiss, the kind that screams you’re the only person in the world for me. Your face burns from the embarrassment of how wet and filthy he made you feel, yet there he was, finding it extremely adorable. “You’re so gorgeous when you’re flustered, baby.”

You roll your eyes, trying to seem annoyed, but you can’t hide your smile. “I hate you.”

Dean chuckles, his hand wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. He leans in again, breath hot against your ear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of ya soon.” He plants a kiss to your lips again, deepening it this time, making you taste his whiskey on your tongue. “I know exactly how to make you feel better, sweetheart.” His cocky grin is back as he straightens, his fingers gripping your hip gently as a promise.

You open your mouth to argue, but Sam is back, sliding a cold glass of water in your direction. “Here.”

You take the glass with a grateful smile, but Dean suddenly gets up. “I think it’s time we go back, Sammy.” He glances at you, shooting you a quick wink. “I’m getting quite tired myself.”

author's note: This is my first fanfic posted. Please note that english is not my first language and I'm new to all of this, so I'm still learning. I'm just having fun and clumsily trying to write my ideas. Support and advice are more than welcome and I'll gladly take them! And I'm taking requests, this one was inspired by my friend's suggestion :)