supernatural oneshots

good morning - dean (SMUT)

CONTENT: smut! MDNI! showering together, slow foreplay, shower sex, unprotected p in v (the real evil), manhandling, overstimulation, aftercare, reader kind of has a strength kink lol

word count: 3.2k (est reading time 12 mins.)

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You wake slowly, Dean's warmth at your back, his arm curled around you and his hand by your face.

Careful not to disturb him, you reach up with your free hand and rub the sleep from your eyes. You look around the room sleepily. The sun is shining through the thin curtains, casting wavy patterns on Sam's empty bed. You crane your neck to see the clock on the nightstand.

It's 1 p.m. You've slept in big time, but god knows you needed it.

Dean stirs behind you, inhaling deeply. His arm leaves your torso and you hear him run his hand down his face, scratching against his stubble. "What time is it?" he asks hoarsely, hand dropping back down to your waist.

You wriggle around to face him. "One."

His eyebrows shoot up momentarily in surprise. "Sleep okay?" he asks, face softening.

"Yeah," you answer, hoping he doesn't tease you about the fact that the first time you've slept well in months was because he was with you.

Dean sits up and leans on his elbow, looking over you to where Sam should have been. "Know where he went?" he asks, jutting his chin in the direction of Sam's stuff.

"He was gone when I woke up." You sit up and reach for your phone, checking for a message from Sam. Dean does the same. Your eyes meet expectantly, and finding no confirmation in the other's, you both toss your phones down on the bed.

"Probably went to lunch," you offer. "Anyway, I need to take a shower." You toss aside the covers, swinging your feet down to the orange shag carpet.

"Without me?" Dean teases, flirty as usual. He's probably joking, but-

"If you don't get up," you say coolly back to him with a smirk.

His eyes glimmer as he realizes you're serious. You turn and saunter into the bathroom, closing the door and undressing, fully expecting him to follow you. Sure enough, moments later, he opens the door, already shirtless, stopping in his tracks when he sees you.

Waiting for him.

Dean sucks in a breath between his teeth, looking you up and down appreciatively. He steps fully into the bathroom, slowly pushing the door shut behind him. Then he advances on you.

He grabs you by the waist and pulls you to him roughly, smashing his lips to yours, gently squeezing the flesh at your hip. His other hand travels up your back, eventually finding purchase in the hair at the nape of your neck.

You respond with equal fervor, gripping onto the back of his shoulders and opening your mouth, allowing him to slip his tongue inside, deepening the kiss. You make a small noise as his tongue invades your mouth, feeling every corner, swirling around your own tongue until you finally have to break away for a breath.

"Fuck," he whispers. You grin mischievously and twirl away from him, stepping into the small, square shower and whipping the curtain closed. You turn the water on, standing just out of its flow, waiting for it to warm up as you listen to him frenziedly ripping the rest of his clothes off.

The curtain rips open and closed again, and suddenly Dean is flipping you around and pushing you against the cold wall of the shower, one hand catching your head so it wouldn't hit the tile, the other circling around your wrist and pressing it up by your head.