Archive of Our Own ^beta

Somehow, he had managed to charm you all the way into his bed tonight. Your subconscious was making your decisions for you, saying yes before you could really think about it. Saying yes to him, who you’ve been thinking of having this way since you met him.

Him, who has the prettiest eyelashes that he certainly used to his advantage to get his way. Him, who has rough and calloused hands you dream of touching your body. Him, who every day when you even so much as look at him, makes your knees go weak.

Dean.

Yeah. And he had you underneath him at the moment.

“So fucking tight.” You felt him purr into your ear when he bottomed out inside of you.

“So fucking big.” You answered breathlessly without thinking, not wanting to feed into his ever-growing ego more than necessary.

Although he was buried in your neck and you couldn’t catch a glimpse, he smirked, then rocked his hips, sinking himself further into and tighter against you, forcing you to do nothing but feel him in the deepest pits of your belly. It earned him an involuntary keen from your throat, and it only made his vanity swell.

Bastard.

He pulled away from your neck; satisfaction written evidently across his face. The hand that was not holding himself up cupped your cheek, and you tried so hard not to nuzzle your face into it. He watched as his thumb ran across and caught on your bottom lip. Without a second thought, you took it into your mouth, enveloping it in wet heat, circling the pad of it teasingly with your tongue. Anything to distract you from the delicious stretch of your pussy around him.

Dean let out a guttural moan at the sight of you, soft thighs spread underneath him, for him, sucking on his finger. He had to will himself not to cum inside of you at that very moment.

~

He had you on top of him now, your knees framing his hips, his hands framing yours, bouncing you up and down in his lap. His head was buried in your chest. It seemed like while you fucked he had an affinity to bury himself into you, in more ways than one.

You could feel his hot breath curl over the valley between your breasts. Occasionally he would nip and kiss at the heated skin you were presenting, using teeth, lips, tongue, anything at his disposal.

What you hated most was how your mouth could not resist releasing those damn whimpers and squeaks of pleasure that only fed into his performance.

His hands ventured to your back, fingers splayed across your sweaty skin, and he pulled you in closer. Forcing you to slow down your pace.

Sirens blared through your mind while he took you this way.

Too intimate. Retreat.

Before your mind could short circuit any further, you made yourself speak.

“Stop, please, for a second.”

He looked up at you, concern flitting across those pretty eyes.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

You’re being too sweet.

“Fine.” You snipped, and lifted yourself off of him and made a complete 180 with your body, straddling him the opposite way. Due to the new position, you missed the twinge of disappointment that flashed in Dean’s expression. Once finally able to push his green eyes from your mind, you lowered yourself onto him again.

Moans left both of your throats in unison and filled the air around you at the renewed connection.

Immediately, his hands found their way onto you again. One assumed position around your tits, squeezing lightly, using his thumb and forefinger to pinch your nipple teasingly. The other rested on your hip, occasionally gripping you tight when his cock hit deep inside you, using it to help guide you up and down.

His hips fucked up into you in short thrusts to meet you in the middle. Every time he slammed upwards; it made your breath hitch audibly. Every thrust sent a new warming flood of pleasure, starting from your core, all the way up to you head, making you positively dizzy with it. You tried not to make as much sound as your body so obviously wanted to. You were too proud to show him how much you liked it, liked him. As if he hadn’t gotten you into bed already.

Your body was showing him in a handful of other ways how much you were enjoying yourself, though. Your hands were clenching on their own accord, thighs were shaking over his. If you thought he that he might be missing it, he wasn’t.

His teeth stayed pressed against the back of your shoulder, a persistent reminder that you were his tonight. Warmth swirled in your belly at the possibility of something like that being permanent.

Leave it to Dean to find some loophole, to have you feeling the same feelings you were so desperately trying to get away from. You felt his voice vibrate against the skin of your back when he spoke,

“Think this’ll distract you from your massive crush on me?” He gestured to the new position you practically threw yourself in, “Think again.”

If he kept talking, your body would have no choice but to react to that fucking rumbling voice.

“I- I don't,” squeak, “like you.” Real smooth. God, you didn’t even sound sure of yourself. If he was just teasing you before, there was no way he would not know for certain now. Maybe you could brush it off later by saying you were too focused on him continuously hitting just the right spot inside of you. You mentally scoffed at the thought of saying anything stupid like that to him.

“Why’d you come to bed with me then, sweetheart?” Somewhere in there he moaned softly, and you had to deny the warmth that started to fill your belly (yet again) from it. You couldn’t put it off for long though, because then his hand wrapped around your front and pressed one long finger against your clit, rubbing sweet circles on it. Despite yourself, you moaned when the walls of your pussy started to flutter around him.

“Not gonna cum until you do,” Damn his persistence, “You gonna cum for me?”

“No, dumbass.”

He didn’t miss a beat, “Mmm, love it when you talk dirty.”

Suddenly, you felt yourself falling face forward onto the sheets. Not once did he withdraw from your warmth. He used his body to pin you down, now on his knees behind you, his cock hitting impossibly deeper inside of you. You whined into the sheets, successfully muffling what you did not want him to hear. This was position number four of the night.

You felt your head being pulled backwards by your hair. He had fisted one large hand in a bunch of it, the other hand had a merciless grip on one of your hips. He pounded into you ruthlessly.

“C’mon, baby, wanna hear you.” He grunted out.

You denied him for so long, what could you do but obey at this point? What was left but giving into how he was making you feel?

The first string of moans you let fall from your lips earned you glorious praise.

“Good girl.” It was deep, grumbling, said with his chest. Your pussy clenched at the sound. He groaned.

“Getting close.” You heard yourself nearly whisper to him between thrusts.

You didn’t know what was making him so restless, unable to keep one position for too long. But yet again, you found yourself being manhandled by him, this time upwards by the arms, your back now to his warm chest. His arms enclosed around you, holding you against him, his finger on your clit again.

“I feel the same about you, you know,” he breathily told you, “We’ve been doin’ this dance for way too long.”

That was all you needed to start cumming around him. The pleasure came to you in white-hot waves, leaving you no choice but to clench your eyes shut. You felt yourself contracting, tightening incredibly around his length.

He laid you back down as gently as he could in his state, desperate to finish. He pounded hard into your overstimulated pussy once, twice, three times more before he pulled out. You felt him start streaking cum onto your back, moaning each time another spurt left him. It felt so warm on your skin.

It was all he could do not to collapse directly onto you, narrowly missing your body when he flopped down onto the sheets beside you.

Your eyes were shut, face still pressed against the sheets. Your hair felt a wreck. Your pussy felt hot and used. With much care, you dropped your hips down onto the sheets too.

Dean fell onto the side your eyes were facing, and you made sure not to open your eyes and look at him. After he recuperated for a few beats, he was having none of that. You felt his whole hand brush hair off and out of the way of your face.

“You with me?”

You grumbled some incoherent response, something that sounded like a confirmation, the ungraceful noise making him chuckle.

The side of the bed he was on shifted under his weight, and you could tell without looking he got up from the bed. You felt a pang of sadness hit you square in the chest.

But then you heard the sound of tissues being ripped from the box, and all at once his hands were on you again. He did not really need to use both of them, he only needed one to wipe off the mess he left on your back. But the other hand that held the back of your hip oh-so-gently nearly broke your heart.

Upon finishing wiping you up, you felt Dean’s hot lips press into the line of your spine, leaving a searing, lingering kiss. Something new for you to brood over. Unless he meant what he said in the heat of the moment. God, you hoped he did. He tossed the tissues in the trash, and assumed position next to you again, using an arm to pull you in close, not caring if you had an objection.

Neither of you spoke, you didn’t have to yet, and you heard tiny snores escape him before you softly fell asleep.

The last thought that crossed your mind was that when you woke up, you two had a lot to talk about.