#doll: dean

[honeyroots]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ⌇DEAN WINCHESTER.

MDNI. 18+ warnings // older!dean, age gap, p in v, slight breath play, somewhat dumbification, praise, use of the word ‘kiddo’

“Breathe,” Dean instructs, his hands rubbing up and down your spine. His touch is gentle, barely even there as his fingertips caress your bare back. With his other hand, he stills your hips to stop the rhythm of you bouncing on his dick.

You inhale a sharp breath, focusing on the air filling your lungs and the relief, rather than the tip of cock pressing against your g-spot. It’s only your second time sleeping with Dean, but the feeling of his girth and length filling you creates a disconnect between your thoughts and basic bodily functions, such as breathing. “Feels too good,” you pant as you exhale.

Dean grips your hips, using his biceps to slide you up and down. He’s far too concerned about you forgetting to breathe again, and he doesn’t want you focusing on riding him. “I know, honey, but you gotta remember to breathe.”

You can’t help the way your walls tighten around him, just the sound of his voice riling you up enough to send you to the edge. Dean scans your face, bringing one hand to your ribcage and gently squeezing, acting as a physical reminder for you to breathe. Obediently, you suck in a breath, eyes fixated on Dean as he watches approvingly. “Good girl,” he tells you, pressing his hips into you.

That’s all it takes for you to come undone around him, your walls tightening against his girth and your hips spasming as your climax rakes through you. A soft smirk plays at the corner of Dean’s lips. Why hadn’t he thought of fucking you sooner? So obedient, so sweet. You’re just like putty in his hands.

“That was good, kiddo,” Dean praises. “Let’s work on your breathing some more, silly girl.”

[honeyroots]

thinking…about divorced!dilf!old men sam and dean w reader 🤤

mmm yes yes

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ⌇DEAN WINCHESTER.

warnings 𖨂 NSFW. MDNI. fem!reader, au: divorced!dilf!dean, age gap (reader in her 20s), p in v, doggy style, daddy kink, light choking, squirting, fauxcest

“So fuckin’ tight,” Dean Winchester breathes into your ear as he laces his hand around the front of your body and lets his palm rest at the base of your throat. He squeezes his hand, pulsating his fingers on your skin until he hears you sputtering beneath him. Your hole tightens every time Dean wraps his hand around your throat, the control he has over you erotic and all consuming. As soon as Dean lets go of your neck, he presses his hand into your hips, steadying you as he plows you from the back, his pace quick and calculated.

“Dad-!” You can’t even finish the word “daddy” as he rams into you, the tip of his cock pressing against the sweet spongy spot that makes your back curl and eyes roll. You want to tell him to slow down, that you’re not going to last if he keeps fucking you like this, but the words are caught in your throat, and each time his cock kisses your g-spot, you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Dad?” Dean mocks, though, that word rolling from your tongue made his stomach tighten, and caught him off guard just enough to stutter the pace. “That gets you off, huh, baby? Calling me dad, knowing I’m way too old for you?”

The way your walls clench around his cock is proof that you get off on his— what Dean would call— ‘dilf status.’ Your body goes limp beneath him, the rush of liquid shooting out of you as he finds that beautiful rhythm once more. Even though you can’t see Dean’s face, you hear the smile in his voice, “atta girl. Makin’ a mess. That’s okay, I’ll fix you up, princess.”

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ⌇SAM WINCHESTER.

warnings 𖨂 NSFW. MDNI. fem!reader, oral (m receiving), au: divorced!dilf!sam, age gap, deep throating, sam calls himself “old man”

“Hey,” Sam threads his fingers into your hand, slowing your pace as you bob your head up and down on his cock. He’s too big, too girthy, the size of his cock is intimidating, and Sam isn’t very smug about it, but he’s wary about actual intercourse until you get used to his size. “Slow down, honey. You’re taking too much.”

“Mmm,” you mumble, acknowledging his words, but the feeling of his tip rocking against the back of your throat is too nice and you want to deep throat him. You know how he feels about it, training you to take his length obediently, but every time the tip angles itself into your gag reflex and you gag around his cock, you’re sure you could cum from just the feeling of losing control of yourself. Without hesitation, you do it again. Your nose caresses Sam’s pubes as you pull his length into your mouth as far as you possibly can. The sputtering if different this time, and spit gets caught in between your throat and Sam’s tip. You cough, choking just enough that you’re gasping for air, and Sam frantically grips your head so you can’t take him any further.

“Listen to your old man,” Sam scolds, pulling you off his cock by jamming his fingers into your cheek and pressing the tissue against you molars. You whine in discomfort, and Sam takes this as an opportunity to slip his length out of your mouth. You marvel at it— wet, the tip and perfect pink color, and suddenly you want to cry at the fact that Sam took his cock away from you. He notices the frustration in your face, and places his hand around your chin, moving you closer to him by your jaw. He pecks your lips and as you climb against his lap, hoping he’ll offer more. The feeling his hardened dick underneath you is torture.

“Oh,” you whine, your core tightening around nothing, but desperately wishing Sam’s length was tucked deep inside you. “I want it…” you say sheepishly, referring to his cock.

“I know, sweetheart. Patience is key. You can play with your hands, though. I know girls like you need a little stimulation.”

[honeyroots]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ⌇ DEAN WINCHESTER.

꒰ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ꒱ 𖦹 𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ⦂ fem!reader, making out, au: bestie!dean, mentions of spit, dry humping, 𖦹 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ⦂ based on this

Dean Winchester has perfect, pillowy lips. They're plump with a natural pink hue that makeup formulas would be envious of. When he speaks, his voice low and his words slow, sometimes you can't help but watch the way his lips move rather than focusing on what he's actually saying. You lay next to Dean, like you've always done with your best friend, but instead of watching the film playing on the tiny motel television, your gaze is fixated on the way his teeth pull and tug on his bottom lip in concentration. "What?" Dean says, looking down at you as you prop your chin on his chest. "You're going to burn a hole in the side of my head if you keep staring at me like that."

You marvel up at your best friend, eyeing the veins in his neck, the intensity of your need for him pins and pricks at your lower belly. With courage you didn't know you had, you take in a soft breath and let out a whiny tone, "You're my best friend, Dean… Can't we kiss?" Dean looks conflicted for a moment before his brain is clouded with ill judgement. Your whine is enough to make him fold, deciding that if his best friend needs something from him, who is he to say no? With careful movements, Dean hooks his hand around your jaw, pulling you closer to him by the back of your neck. "Yeah, sweetheart, let me show you. Let me show you how best friends kiss."

It starts slow, his lips colliding with yours. He nips at your bottom lip with his teeth, suckling and nibbling on it in a way that makes your body feel like it’s on fire. Moans escape from you in staccato-like vibrations. The taste of Dean's spit is sweet like candy, and the part of your brain that is still able to create coherent thoughts wonders how you lasted so long without Dean's mouth on yours. Without much thought, your hips begin to rock against him, and even though you aren't completely aware of what you're doing, Dean's movements freeze. He pulls your head back, his fingers laced in your hair as he scans your face for any nonverbal signs you might be offering him. Slowly, with a caution you've never seen Dean Winchester possess, he picks you up by your hips and positions your crotch above his. "Take what you need, honey."

As soon as the words tumbled from his mouth, your hips were rocking against him. The slickness in your underwear was sticking to your folds and the seams in Dean's jeans only acted as the stimulation you so desperately needed. Your voice is hoarse as you rock your crotch against Dean, "this is okay, right? Best friends do this?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dean presses your cheeks in between his hands, pulling you forward so you're hunched just enough for your lips to connect once more. Muttering against you, Dean whispers, “all best friends do this.”

[honeyroots]

. . . d. winchester

warnings — MDNI. 18+. fem!reader, brat taming, p in v. orgasm denial, use of the word ‘kiddo.’

Dean Winchester is always reminding you to behave. It’s always an utterance of, ‘behave, sweetheart, hands to yourself’ or ‘fix yourself and start behaving,’ in a stern tone that makes your knees feel a little weak. Tonight is no different as you hang off his lap, pressing your hands against his chest and wiggling your ass into his crotch to work him up. It usually doesn’t take much to break dean, to wear him down enough to bend you over the table and fuck you from behind. Although, the way he hoists you up feels different. He bends your body and tugs your pants down— the movements are more calculated, and noticeably not as gentle as they typically are. Instead of offering a tender tap on the inside of your thigh to signal that it’s time to open your legs and let him in, he stuffs his boot in between your feet and slides your legs apart in a manner that’s almost… gruff.

“You need to start listening,” Dean grumbles into the back of your neck as he folds you over the table, his cock pressing in between your folds, but not actually penetrating your hole. “M’not gonna reward this behavior anymore. You don’t wanna listen? Fine, but don’t expect me to fuck you the way you want.”

It’s the first time he denies your desires. It’s the first time Dean fits his cock in between your slit, and starts thrusting against your wet folds rather than letting your cunt swallow him. It’s the first time Dean finishes on your back, his disappointed glare lingering as he cleans you off. Maybe he’s annoyed with you, but it’s not like the importance of aftercare has evaded him.

“I didn’t… but Dean.. I didn’t finish?” Your confusion is evident, echoing between you two as your brain tries to wrap itself around the fact that Dean is sliding his belt back on.

“I know,” Dean responds with a nonchalant flick of his eyebrow, “You can put your listening ears on tomorrow and then maybe I’ll work you out, but you need to learn how to behave. Letting you finish whenever you want isn’t going to teach you the meaning of the word, is it, kiddo?”

Behave. There’s that word again. Fuck, you hate that word.

[honeyroots]

situationship dean winchester. like a yearning sneaky link with a baaaaaad corruption kink 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️☝️☝️

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ ⌇DEAN WINCHESTER . . . ⚘ ༝༚༝༚

𓂃✍︎

content warnings 𖨂 NSFW. minors do not interact, fem!reader, sneaky!link!dean, corruption kink, deep throating, gagging, slight exhibitionism (they’re in the impala)

requests 𖨂 honey’s spring solstice

“Yeah— yeah, just like that…” Dean Winchester trails off as he pushes your head further into his crotch. Dean’s length threatens to reach the back of your throat, but he steadies your head and allows your mouth to get accustomed to the width of his girth. Spit seeps out the sides of your lips, dribbling down the rest of Dean’s uncovered shaft as you reposition yourself in the foot space of the Impala. With wide eyes, you glance up at him for some extra encouragement before even attempting to take the rest of his cock in your mouth. “Doing great, baby. Fuck, I’m ruining your innocent little brain, huh?”

You shift uncomfortably, the wetness pooling in the cotton plane of your panties is growing stickier and stickier by the second. Needing any sort of stimulation, you shift from side to side while trying to redirect your attention to the task at hand— getting the tip Dean’s cock pressed against the soft tissue of your throat until you’re gagging and sputtering around him.

With slow, calculated movements, you peer up at Dean through your eyelashes. His face is focused, watching intently as you dip further, and further, and further, until you can feel the slit in his tip pressing against the spongy part of your uvula. Your cheeks hollow, and you take pleasure in the feel of his veins brushing the pink lining of your mouth. It’s steady at first and the pace is comfortable, but once you hear a moan from Dean, your movements become sloppy as you try to expel the noise from him once more. Lurching forward, you ground yourself by gripping onto Dean’s thigh while your gag reflex is stimulated by his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart, take it easy.”

Dean grabs your jaw and forces your mouth off his shaft, a disappointed whine escaping from you as your lips turn down in a pout. “Dean! I wanted to keep going!”

His cock is still hard, dripping from a mix of his pre-cum and your saliva. With one finger, he accumulates some of the substance before spreading it across your lips like your own personal brand of lip gloss. “Why don’t you hop up on my lap, babydoll? I’m g’na ruin you.”

[honeyroots]

18+. tw incest, mentions of abuse/grooming. this is sad. DEAD DOVE.

winchester!sister!reader who has a complicated relationship with sam and dean because john sheltered you. winchester!sister!reader who had a codependent and obsessive relationship with john that sam and dean didn’t know about. when john dies and you’re forced to hunt with sam and dean, it’s clear just how badly their father did a number on you. when they’re on a hunt and you’re trying to do your own thing, dean is strict— john’s little soldier, “i’m dad now, you understand that? he’s not here anymore so i’m the next best thing, and when i give you orders, you follow them.”

this command flips something in your brain, and later when they’re in the motel while sam is out grabbing them dinner, you take it as an opportunity to sit on your big brother’s lap. dean is confused at first, where did this sudden affection come from? when you starts pulling at his belt buckle, he’s stilling your hand by grabbing it with his own. “woah— hey, hey! what’re you doing?”

“thought you said you were dad now?” you look at him with a perplexed gaze. why is he stopping her?

“yeah, i did say that but… did dad let you do this?” dean’s stomach turns. the thought of his father and his sister nearly makes him sick, but the rejected look on your face is putting him in a tough position.

“uh huh,” you mutter, whining gently as you squirms your hand in his, “dad loved me so much. i was his special girl! just like mom.”

guilt consumes dean. the fact that this seems so normal to you, that in order to feel your brother’s love, you need to cross these boundaries is absurd. but dean isn’t a psychiatrist, dean isn’t a therapist, and dean has only ever been a big brother to sammy, which means he only knows how to put his siblings first. he went to hell for sammy, after all.

“what do you need from me?” dean questions, letting his sister’s hand go as he brings his other hand to caress her cheek. “tell me.”

[honeyroots]

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ — DEAN WINCHESTER.

꒰ NSFW 18+ ꒱ — based on this. au: boyfriends!dad!dean

dean winchester has rough, calloused hands from hunts— the repeated motion of loading his favorite shotgun and pulling the trigger is permanently embedded in his skin. dark brown stubble peppers his chin shaping his jawline in a way that’s nearly artistic. crows feet highlight his eyes, the wrinkles gathering at the corner signifying his age. each time your boyfriend’s dad winks at you, your mouth waters as his fine lines crease around his eyes. those calloused hands run up and down your spine as he moves past you, bodies bumping and colliding into one another in a way that might seem innocent, but the two of you know it’s not. your boyfriend is oblivious to the way you ogle his father. your boyfriend just doesn’t understand his dad hydrates your core in ways that he could never. your boyfriend never questions your late night trips with his father… why would he? you follow dean out the door, delicately walking behind him as he paves the way to the impala. when you’re finally in the parking lot of the grocery store, miles away from your boyfriend, dean doesn’t need to tell you to get in the backseat. you know the drill— you know how this works as if it was second nature. and by the time he slides the tip of his cock up and down your slit, your cunt weeping to be filled by dean, you have already forgotten your boyfriend. “gonna sneak into my bed tonight, aren’t ya? can tell by the way your cunt is squeezing me you’re gonna need another round,” dean will whisper as he pounds into you. maybe he’s no better than john.

[honeyroots]

BOYFRIENDS!DAD!DEAN ꒲ headcanons

it’s scandalous but there’s no one like your boyfriend’s dad

꒰ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ꒱

¹ — DEAN WINCHESTER can’t be with you as often as he wants, and the only solution to this is filming homemade videos. It’s shot on a cell phone, his cock sliding in and out while he angles the camera just enough to capture the way you suck him up. The video is grainy, the audio is terrible, and as much as he would like to have your face in the mini porno, he doesn’t want to put you in a position too comprising. He moves this video to a private password protected app. When he has alone time with his hand and his mind wanders to you, he watches it and fucks his hand to the image of his dick splitting you open as your back arches with each thrust. He squeezes himself, and even though the audio is choppy, he can make out the gentle moans of his name rolling off your tongue over and over again.

² — DEAN says the backseat of the Impala was made for you. “My baby in my baby,” he whispers as he fucks you in a motel parking lot. With your boyfriend inside the motel, the only place you two can get relief together is in his car. “Makin’ me feel like I’m young again, sweetheart. All the sneaking around,” he’d tell you as he pulls you onto his lap in the backseat and presses open mouthed kisses to your neck. The taste of your body wash lingers on his tongue, and when he rests his head on his pillow later that night, he can smell your perfume on him.

³ — DEAN gets you hot and bothered for the hell of it. He messes with the hem of his shirt, pulling it up enough to expose his soft happy trail. When your eyes fixate on his exposed skin, he knows he has you exactly where he wants you. With your mouth watering, eyes a little more wild than normal, the heat in your panties is enough of an indicator that you need him before your mind is on the same page. Your desires are purely instinctual when it comes to Dean. The sight of his happy trail is a pavlovian response, that subdued ache between your legs has you plotting ways to get him alone later.

⁴ — DEAN doesn’t like that his son brought you into the hunting life, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. He likes to show you the ropes, because he knows if you learn from him, at least you’ll be learning the right way. “C’mere, let me show you how to clean a shotgun,” he’d tell you at the end of the evening, patting his lap. As you sit down, he wraps his arms around you, showing the proper technique that comes to weapon care. His lips centimeters away from your ear, he nips at your lobe and encourages you to try cleaning the gun on your own. Pleased by your innate ability to take direction, he praises, “Such a good girl, y’know that?”