Woukd you write smut plus size fem reader x dean? Where he just is obsessed with her and cant keep his hands off especially loves when she rides him
Dean is most definitely obsessed with his plus sized girlfriend. Of course he loves your personality, but your body has him in an involuntary chokehold. He has zero complaints and only a million praises. And sometimes he feels like you have more control over his body than he does.
The common occurrence of him catching a good look at your cleavage when you wear a lower cut top has him sputtering, staring, and losing his train of thought mid-sentence. His eyes automatically zero in on your chest, mind flooding with dirty memories of how your supple tits fill his hands, how it feels to bury his face between your soft, smooth breasts, and suddenly, Sam is clearing his throat to bring Dean’s attention away from you and the very obvious way he’s oogling your body.
He loves opening any door for you, seizing the opportunity to get a good look at your plush ass and all of your curves as you walk by him, oblivious. Your perfect shape makes him want to sink his teeth into you, makes him feel a rush of blood to his groin at the most inappropriate, inconvenient times.
He makes it his job to worship your body in any way he can, but he especially loves when you ride him, when you’re above him, your entire body bare and writhing on top of his, tits bouncing wildly as you fuck him, the round flesh of your ass jiggling with your movements. He feels like he owns the crease between your hip and thigh, the sight of it sending him into overdrive, and he just has to have his hands there, gripping you hard, encouraging your movements of grinding up and down his length. His hands are programmed to explore the expanse of your soft thighs, and he loves reaching between your legs to touch you intimately, loves it even more when he feels that soft thickness of your legs closing around his head when he buries his face in your pussy.
So yeah, you have him absolutely eating out of the palm of your hand.
Sub!Sam that kneels in front of you, completely naked, his muscles tensed and wire tight. His broad chest heaves, his eyes glued to the sight of your fingers stroking at your glistening pussy, as you spread your legs right in front of his salivating mouth.
His hands are fisted obediently on his thick thighs, resisting the overpowering urge to reach for his dripping, swollen cock, the veins of his forearms standing out from the effort it takes him to follow your command.
“Please,” He whines, completely hypnotized by your ministrations. His hands covertly shift closer to his cock, desperate for relief. But you’re not even sure if he’s begging for stimulation on his aching cock or for the green light to dive into your pussy.
“Not yet, baby.” You sigh, the raw yearning in his voice only adding to your impending orgasm. It has you beyond turned on, to have such a behemoth of a man wrapped around your finger, listening to you like you’re speaking the word of God, drooling over your body so blatantly, giving up control of his body and actions entirely over to you in these moments. “Be good and keep your hands off.”
Again, he whines. Untouched, his cock bobs against his lower abdominal muscles, the head almost purple from the lack of attention.
“Let me at least-“ He starts to plead, before you cut him off quickly with a little slap to his face. He moans against his will at the sharp sting of pain, eyes focused on you like you’re the only thing in his entire world. Then you grab him by the jaw firmly with the hand that had been playing with your pussy, carelessly smearing your arousal on his face, forcing him to tilt his head back, though really, you couldn’t force him to do anything. He does it all willingly, ignores his aching balls and member to please you.
“I said watch.” You scold him, loving the way his eyelashes flutter shamefully, his gaze darting away from yours to the floor. “I thought you wanted to be my good boy.” You say in a softer voice, granting him the pleasure of your hand running through his hair. You let your slick coated fingers brush his lips as you release his jaw, and he immediately licks your flavor from his mouth.
“I do-“ He chokes out, panting. He glances down at this throbbing cock pathetically.
You settle back onto the bed, spreading your legs wide for him to see you stuff two fingers inside your pussy. He looks like the sight physically hurts him. He strains and whines but stays still.
You make yourself come and then you beckon him forward to lick you clean. He responds enthusiastically, groaning at your taste, hunching over your smaller frame to bury his face between your legs when you yank him forward by his hair. He eats at you ravenously, while you praise him, thrusting your hips up into his hungry mouth. You come again quickly, rambling in a breathy voice as he moans in response.
“Feels so good, Sammy. Such a good fuck toy for me. Mhm, love your mouth, baby. Gonna make you feel so good when you earn it.”
You guide him onto the edge of the bed, the entire lower half of his face covered in an obscene mixture of your juices. He sits with his back against the headboard, sweat beading down his chest, watching you with heavily lidded eyes, waiting for your direction, even though he looks tortured.
“You want your reward for being such a good baby boy, hm?” You ask, crawling towards him. “You think you deserve your cock touched? Think you deserve to go inside?”
“Yes, yes, please-“ He nods, watching you closely. As you purposefully let your breath ghost over his swollen length, he throws his head back at the agony.
Finally deciding to put him out of his misery, you wrap your arms around his neck and sink down his impressive length.
He curses loudly. “Fuuuck-“ He tenses up even more at the hot, wet embrace of your soaked pussy. “God-thank you, thank you, thank you-“ He gasps and you realize he’s crying, burying his face in your neck.
His chest rumbles with the force of his moans and whining as you begin to ride him, sliding up and down his pulsing length at a pace that has him panting and clutching at your body.
“S’good,” He slurs, fat tears slipping from his eyes as he grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut to try to stave off the orgasm that’s building in gut with embarrassing speed.
“Yeah, you like your reward, baby? Like when I use you for your big cock?”
He agrees pathetically. “Yes, use me. Do whatever you want. Just let me come. Please, baby, can’t stop it. Please, please let me come. Fuckk-“
You take pity on him and let him come, shooting jet after jet of filthy, warm cum into you. Afterwards, you wipe away the last of his tears and pull him closer to nuzzle into your chest. He accepts the affection hungrily, resting his cheek on the plush flesh of your breast, while you whisper more praise into his ear.
omggg smut based off the episode where sams dressed like a swat officer?? HELLO so fine
SWAT!Sam from S2E12...hell yes. requests are still OPEN
They hightail it away from the bank and the blockade of cops- patrol officers, tactical agents, and the FBI. The only stop on their way to get the hell out of town is to get you.
You’d been watching the bank’s hostage situation from the motel room, nauseated by the choppy news coverage that showed the SWAT team sneaking their way inside. The place was surrounded, every entrance and exit covered, according to the reporter, but you knew better than to count the Winchesters out.
You’re still watching the news coverage when there’s a pounding on the door. It nearly makes you jump out of your skin. Your heart stutters as you come face to face with a SWAT agent, his herculean figure accentuated by layers of black tactical gear. The man paws at the hood concealing his face, pulling it down over his nose and mouth- and you realize it’s Sam.
“Grab your stuff.” He orders. “We need to get out of town. Now.”
You nod and he watches the door while you get your shit together in less than five minutes. At this very critical moment when you need control over all of your facilities, you’re hyperaware of how inappropriately turned on you are- by the sharp authority in Sam’s voice and the emanation of lethality and danger from the uniform. Just the notion of Sam overpowering the real SWAT officer has your knees weakening.
It’s only when you all make it a few states over that you pay for two motel rooms, that you finally get to be alone with Sam. You’re crowding into his personal space the moment the door closes behind him.
“You know, I love all of your disguises, but this one is definitely my favorite.” You muse, running your hand down his ballistic vest as he wrestles with the hood again, pulling it down to rest under his chin. He unclips his helmet, tossing it aside before shaking out of his hair.
Grabbing you by your waist, Sam smirks. The tactical gloves he wears are rough as his fingers brush under your blouse. “Yeah, baby, could practically read that on your face.”
“Really? I thought I was being subtle,” You pout, letting him pull you into his arms.
“Subtlty isn’t your strong suit, baby,” He murmurs before kissing you.
You can almost taste his adrenaline, as he presses you back against the wall, tugging at your clothes like they’re personally offending him. He’s only satisfied when you’re completely naked, caged between his enormous figure and the wall, with his hands caressing and gripping your exposed flesh as he pleases. With his lips still moving against yours with bruising force, he starts to shrug out of the thick ballistic vest, but you stop him.
He raises an eyebrow, a smirk slowly spreading across his swollen lips. “Oh. You like it that much?”
You bite back a smile.
“Alright, dirty girl,” Sam banters. “You want me to fuck you with all this gear on? Might take some convincing.” Taking your hand, he brings it to the crotch of his tactical pants. The fabric is bulky and rough against your palm, but when he pushes his hips forward into your hand, your mouth waters as you feel the unquestionable evidence of his arousal.
“Whatever you say, officer,” You say with a cute little smile, your hands mindlessly unclasping his belt as you carefully settle on your knees before him.
Sam’s jaw slackens at the view of you, naked and on your knees, so eagerly working to pull his dick from his pants. Running an appreciative hand through your hair, he grits his white teeth the moment your tiny hand wraps around his girth, and he grunts harshly when you take him into your mouth.
As you lick his cock all over, getting it covered in a sheeny layer of your spit, you moan at his tangy flavor. You start bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks and sliding as much of him as you can fit at a time into the hot, wet channel of your mouth. He grips the roots of your hair with one hand, his hips twitching every so often, accidentally shoving a little more of his length down your throat. You let your eyes roll back, your mind shutting off, except to catalog every sound he makes- his breath catching when your tongue pays special attention to the head of his cock, grunts, and moans of appreciation when you force yourself down so that your nose brushes the thatch of hair at the base of his cock, your throat tightening around him as tears and drool freely slide down your face and chin, onto your exposed breasts.
One hand in your hair turns to two, and he starts to fuck your face, gently at first, bulding up to driving his cock in and out of your mouth like you’re just a mindless doll for him to use. You let him, sliding a hand down between your legs to rub at your puffy clit, which has been crying for some kind of friction since the moment you laid eyes on him in that uniform. You stare up at him through the tears dotting your eyelashes, loving the way he’s dressed fully with layers, while you’re helplessly bare.
He yanks you to your feet, manhandling you to bend over the edge of the little table in the kitchen. Your breasts press against the cool wood, and your fingers keep rubbing at your drenched pussy, until you feel the brush of his clothes behind you and the prob of his swollen cockhead at your entrance.
Sam grips the globes of your ass in his hands, pushing his cock into you, but you’re so wet that there’s very little resistance. He groans as your walls spasm around him, coating him in your creamy arousal, and your thighs start trembling the instant he starts pumping in and out of you.
He fucks you fast, using a crushing grip on your hips to haul you back onto his cock the same instant he drives his hips forwards. The feeling of each thrust is so intense and sharp that you couldn’t be quiet if your life depended on it, but Sam seems to enjoy your cries, smiling breathlessly above you. He folds his body over yours, so his lips are at your ear.
“Such a little slut,” He chastises in your ear, pulling your hair to lift your head a bit. The action, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, and the relentless abuse to your cunt is sending you rushing towards your peak. “Spreadin’ your legs for any guy in a fuckin’ uniform.”
“No-” You gasp, but he’s slipped a hand between your legs, which only adds to the excessive wetness making your thighs glisten. Your muscles tense as he starts rubbing tight, fast circles on your clit. “Only you-”
“Damn right, only me.” He grunts.
You cum together, your pussy convulsing wildly around his length, your mind whiting out in the midst of such a profound orgasm. He keeps thrusting to prolong the feeling, and when he eventually pulls out, your combined fluids begin to seep out of your cunt.
He takes you in his arms, sitting with you on his lap, kissing you softly while you both recover. You decide together that the uniform might be worth holding onto.
Girl, I like your fiction very much. The second part you shared yesterday impressed me a lot. please please please I need part 3. My heart can't handle it when she dies. I need to see Dean's reaction. Maybe he can make it just in time? Please release part 3. I love you. and sorry for any mistakes. English is not my native language.
first of all, thank you <3
rest assured, reader won't die probably
there are a few ideas i needa finish before i start on part 3 but it will come eventually -and I intend p3 to actually be the end
Summary: Dean jerks off while you pretend to sleep.
Content warning: Reader gives Dean a massage, explicit language, male masturbation, handjobs, spitting, cum eating, she calls him good boy one time
wc: 1.8k
“That feels- fuck- that feels amazing.”
Dean bows his head, leaning back into your hands, as they knead the knotted muscles of his shoulders. The lotion you’d smeared across the expanse of his upper back and arms makes his skin look dewy. Your hands glide along the contours of his body, looking so small in comparison to his figure.
He lifts his head, letting it fall back to rest against your shoulder as your fingers dig into the lean, striated muscle of his pectorals. His eyes are closed.
“You really are an angel, sweetness.” He drawls slowly. “Y’too good to me.”
“Shh,” You coo softly, hands now caressing the slope of his neck. “Just relax,”
“‘F’I relax any more, I’m gonna pass out.”
You pretty much feel the same way. It’d been an action packed few days, allowing minimal time for rest, and now you’re both heavily fatigued. Your body feels much older than it is. After showering and brushing your teeth, giving some attention to your needy man is the last thing on your to-do list before knocking out for a good ten hours. You can hardly keep your eyelids open, but every one of Dean’s appreciative moans convinces you to continue.
“That’s okay,” You assure him gently, purposefully grazing your lips against the shell of his ear. His spine straightens at the touch of your lips, shuddering slightly. “We’ll finish here. Then we can sleep,” You press a firmer kiss just behind his ear, smiling to yourself as he stiffens at the contact, groaning deeply as your fingers continue to massage his flesh.
Truthfully, you’re tired, but the game you’re playing with him is entertaining enough to turn what was supposed to be a quick five minute massage into a twenty minute one. Since the moment you’d laid your hands on his bare skin, he’d been growing harder and harder, and now, you were having fun pretending to be oblivious to the very noticeable bulge in his sweatpants.
“Don’t wanna sleep.” He argues, the slightest bit of petulance creeping into his tone. He turns to face you, regarding you with bleary, sleepy green eyes. “Want you.”
You peck his very pretty, pouty lips, finishing your massage with a little squeeze around his waist. Standing to go wash the residual lotion from your hands, Dean turns to watch you.
“No happy ending?” He jokes halfheartedly, but his eyes glimmer as he looks at you from under his lashes, exposing that underneath the guise of humor, he really is asking.
“M’sorry, handsome,” You murmur apologetically. “I’m dead on my feet.”
“‘Least let me return the favor,” He suggests, as you’re sliding underneath the sheets, wearing only one of his shirts and your panties.
“Tomorrow,” Your cheek is already on your pillow.
He slides under the blankets behind you, molding his chest to the shape of your back, fitting snugly, like an old weathered baseball glove. Eyes closed, you sigh at the comfort of his body against you. He slings a thick, heavy arm around your hips, guiding your ass back to press securely against his crotch. You bite back a smile at his less than covert attempts to entice you, shifting his hips so that the undeniable outline of his engorged cock is nestled right against your core.
You stay still, committed to the act that you’re unaffected by any of his antics, but you’re growing hot underneath the covers. You’d already been turned on by just rubbing his body, were wet the instant you noticed his boner, and now, as he subtly creates friction between your bodies, you suddenly aren’t so tired.
“Baby,” He complains in your ear, hands sliding from your hips, to your waist, then teasing just below your breasts. “Y’gotta gimme something here. Feels like I’ve been waitin’ to get you alone for weeks-”
“-It’s only been a few days.” You say without turning to look at him.
“Exactly-”
“I think you’ll live if I make you wait until tomorrow,” You say.
You only haven’t ended his misery because you want to see how far you can push him, and it turns you on when he begs. Plus, his sweet, desperate disposition is something private, saved only for you, in moments when you’re alone. In the quiet moments with you, he’s a very different man than he pretends to be with everyone else.
“Cruel woman,” He sighs. You get the sense that he might be giving up, as his arm returns around your hips.
“Thought you said I was an angel," You tease
"That was when you were being nice to me."
You huff. "I'll be nicer after I sleep.'
You relax against him, and even though you’re doggedly tired, his erection is still probing you between your thighs, stoking heat in your lower belly that’s becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Still, you keep yourself still in his arms, and squeeze your eyes tightly shut any time he shifts against you. He moves occasionally, readjusting his grip on you, repositioning his body, but stays quiet.
“Baby?” Dean whispers gently, several minutes later. Or maybe it’s been an hour. “Baby, you awake?
You’d been dozing, but at the sound of his voice, you rouse. You don’t answer because you’re intrigued by the diffidence in his tone.
Dean’s arm tightens around you, using his grip on you to once again create friction between your bodies. His breathing strikingly deepens, and every so often, he groans weakly. If the movement of him sliding against you wasn’t enough to have you pulsing between your legs, his noises would do the job. He sounds almost ashamed. It’s clear he’s trying to be quiet, but he’s doing a poor job of concealing his arousal.
You feel him wedge a hand between his groin and your ass, rubbing himself through his pants. You want to look, but part of you believes he would stop if he realized you were awake. You wonder if the front of his sweats are wet yet, if he’s gritting his teeth or if he’s open mouth panting. Heat radiates from his chest, and you feel the instant he breaks out in a sweat from his ministrations.
Very carefully, as to not wake you, he lifts his arm off your body and rolls onto his back. You fight to keep your own breathing even, to keep yourself from squeezing your thighs together, as you hear him start to jerk off.
It begins quietly, with the soft, barely audible evidence of him letting saliva fall from his mouth onto his palm. Then he wraps a hand around himself, and you hear the spread of moisture as he begins pumping his fist up and down. The sound of his hand beating his cock is largely overpowered by his breathing and the moans he’s failing to swallow, until he seems to lose control of himself and really starts pumping himself hard and fast.
You picture him, holding his stiff member in one hand, playing with his balls with the other. Picture him rubbing at the head of his cock until he can’t take it, mimicking the way you always torture him with special attention to his most sensitive spots.
“Just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” You scold in a quiet voice, turning towards him.
Dean startles with a grunt, his hand flying away from his cock, as if it wasn’t obvious what he’d been doing with it resting against his lower belly. He looks away from you, then back, bowing his head shamefully.
“D-didn’t-” He clears his throat. “Didn’t mean to wake you, princess.”
You roll onto your side beside him, placing a hand on the bit of his thigh exposed from where his sweats had been hastily pushed down.
When you don’t say anything, he keeps stammering. “I’m sorry-”
“Shh,” You whisper gently, grazing his thigh with the points of your nails. You suppress a smirk at the way the muscle of his leg jumps at your teasing touch, his cock bobbing untouched. “Keep going, big boy.”
He hesitates, so you wrap one of your smaller hands around the base of his cock. He immediately gasps, his head lolling back against the headboard. He begins panting again as he watches you bring your lips just above the head of him. You let a substantial string of saliva slip from your lips, onto his aching tip, smiling as he moans above you.
His jaw falls open when you start twisting your fist around him, spreading the lubricant generously from tip to base, so that he’s nice and wet.
“Keep going, baby,” You encourage, lifting yourself enough to take his face in your hands. You peck his lips, ending the kiss with a little sharp bite to his bottom lip that has him groaning and chasing after your lips when you pull back.
“Keep going-” He repeats, as if dazed.
“Yeah,” You say with a smile, caressing his jaw. “You wanna cum, don’t you?”
“Yeah-” He agrees, letting you take his hand. You bring his hand back between his legs, and you greedily watch as he grips himself, and then starts moving.
“How bad do y’wanna come, Dean?” You whisper sensually, maintaining eye contact with him in the dark. His breath fans across your lips, his eyelids heavy from the degree of his lust.
“Bad- so fuckin’ bad-” He rasps and it sounds like a plea.
“I bet,” You purr, letting your hands roam across his neck and shoulders. “Been such a good boy, waiting so well. I know you tried, baby.”
He grits his teeth, hand moving in a blur as he jerks himself, chest heaving. “I did- Tried to ignore it. For you-”
“It’s okay, baby. Know you need it real bad.”
He nods, expression broken as he keeps going.
“Can’t even handle my hands on you without getting hard,” You muse lovingly. “S’a little bit pathetic, right?”
“Fuck-” He groans, voice strangled. “I know-”
"And jerking off while your girlfriend is right next to you...is that pathetic, baby?"
"Yes-" He chokes out.
“You sound close,” You whisper. “Are you close, baby? Gonna make yourself cum? Wishing you were inside me instead?”
“Wanna make you feel good,” He mumbles. “God-M’so close.”
“Cum for me, Dean,” You beg, sliding back down level with his lap. “Wanna see how much cum you have for me,”
He begins shuddering, groaning from deep in his chest. He tells you he’s coming and it sounds like he’s panicked. You manage to get your plump lips around the head of him, your tongue immediately flooded with the heady taste of him. You suck at him for barely a second before he begins spurting into your mouth, the jets of his cum steadily hitting the back of your throat. He’s gripping your hair harshly, and you might register the pain of it, if you weren’t concentrating on swallowing burst after burst of his spend.
You swallow it all, then lick his cockhead clean until he’s jumping at the simple touch of your hot tongue. You lick your lips clean next and then nestle yourself back under his arm, while he's still sweaty and panting.
“That should hold you off until the morning, right?” You ask playfully.
“Yeah, I’d say so.”
You both make yourselves comfortable in the bed and fall asleep within five minutes flat.
hiii!! could you please write one where the reader makes boyfriend!dean pop a boner, and then turns around and pretends to fall asleep just so she can hear him jerk off ??? thank you !!
OK YES-this is everything and I need to start writing this YESTERDAY
spoiler alert: dean is going to be desperate and a little pathetic in it
The fact that when the other one dies, Dean gets suicidal and Sam gets homicidal is particularly beautiful and profound because if you only look at the surface level of their characters, you would think the exact opposite, and yet it makes perfect sense for them
