Dean x Reader

"Guys, I don't think the witch actually hit me with the spell!" You argued as the three of you began cleaning out the Impala. Grabbing your trash along with your bag, you turned to see both Sam and Dean staring at you.

"Y/N, we literally saw her through the orange powder into your face." Dean insisted. Sighing, you placed your hands on your hips.

"Who says it was a spell? For all we know it could have been Tang, or whatever that nasty old powdered drink was." You muttered. "But whatever. I'm calling it a night. See you guys in the morning. And first one up has to cook bacon!"

Hearing them grumbling behind you, you strode down the hallway, slamming the door behind you. "I hate witches." You muttered, stripping clothes as you went. You wanted nothing more than a hot, steamy shower, before you crawled into bed and slept until the smell of bacon woke you in the morning.

Staying in the shower until your fingers turned prunish, you climbed out, slipping into your favorite pajama's which included a stolen shirt of Dean's, along with a threadbare pair of shorts. As you finished off your nightly rituals, you took stock of your body. Nothing seemed weird, or off, like the spell was starting to take effect, and you began to wonder if it was a dud. If the witch had no clue what she was doing, or since she was dead it was no longer powerful.

Cuddling into bed, you couldn't help but be grateful that the spell hadn't taken hold. Having no idea what it entailed, you knew it would have been no fun for you. Especially since each of the spells she had cast on her victims had included playing with their heart. Until their heart gave out.

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Waking up in the morning, you stretched as you smelled the wonderful aroma of bacon. Knowing that Dean was cooking breakfast made your mouth water. He always made the best breakfasts, and you couldn't wait to stuff your face full of bacon and whatever else he managed to make.

Standing up, you couldn't help but notice that you felt differently. Your skin felt taunt over your muscles, almost too tight. Your hands were clammy, your face flushed and warm. A heat settled low in your gut, a feeling that only came when you were aroused. Shaking off the unsteadiness of your legs, you made your way into the bathroom, unsurprised to see your pupils blown wide, your cheeks rosier than ever. Your breasts hung heavy underneath your shirt, aching and tender.

"What the hell?" You wondered out loud. You weren't even close to your period, so these feelings weren't connected to that at all. Still, you reached into your medicine cabinet, taking out the bottle of Midol, hoping it would kill some of these uncomfortable feelings before they became worse.

Dressing was a chore. Every item of clothing seemed to chafe at your skin, aggravating your already sensitive skin. Sighing, you decided on a simple cotton shirt, your bra brushing against your sensitive nipples, making you want to take it off right away. Simple leggings slid over your legs, settling tight against the juncture of your thighs, where the aching seemed the worse. "Maybe I should just climb back in bed." You muttered, but the smell of bacon was too much, and you followed your nose to the kitchen.

When you stepped into the bright room, it was bacon that drew you any longer. It was the masculine smell of Dean, so pungent even with the breakfast cooking in front of him. Musk mixed with the smell of car oil and gunpowder, so addicting. So real that you found yourself nibbling on your lips, walking closer to him, your hands clenching the air.

"There you are. Thought you would sleep in all day." He threw over his shoulder as he began piling a plate full of fluffy waffles and crisp bacon. Ignoring the food, you couldn't help yourself as you stepped up close behind him, your chest pressing against his back. Wrapping your arms around him, you laid your head on his back, taking a deep breath of the aroma that was distinctly Dean. "Whoa, okay there Y/N. What are you doing?" He asked, as your hands moved up and down his chest.

You truthfully had no idea what you were doing. You and Dean weren't a couple, hadn't even talked about it. Hadn't gone past the status of friendship, and here you were, wanting nothing more for him to pick you up, and take care of this heady feeling inside you. "I can't help it." You muttered, as he tried to turn around and pry you off him. "You smell so good, and I feel...I feel so needy."

Finally free from your grasp, he held his hands up, trying to stop your advances. If you were in your right mind, it would have been funny. Dean, the man who enjoyed the company of women immensely fighting one off. But you just saw those wide shoulders, the lean bowlegs, and you licked your lips, ready to shed the flannel shirt off him. Ready to slide those worn jeans down his legs, to... "Y/N!" Dean snapped, bringing your attention back to his face, which was flushed, his eyes wide in shock. "This isn't you! What's up?"

"I don't know." You managed to mutter. "I just woke up this morning, and I can't help this feeling rolling through me. I need you, or someone to take this edge off."

Just then Sam came walking through the doorway, unaware of the tension feeling the room. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, his sweaty t-shirt clinging to his lean but solid frame. Turning your attention from Dean, you started to move towards Sam, hoping that he would help your situation. Running your hand down his chest, moving downwards to the slight bulge in his sweat pants, you groaned when a pair of hands grabbed you from behind, pulling you away from the man in front of you. "Y/N?" Sam asked, glancing behind you to his brother.

"I think the spell is finally taking effect." Dean tried explaining as you wiggled against him, your butt grinding into his crotch. "She is feeling extremely, well..."

"I think I get it." Sam interrupted. "What should we do?"

"Why don't you go try to find a reversal, while I keep her under house arrest." Dean muttered, as your hand reached around behind him, squeezing his firm butt.

"Dean, are you sure that's such a good idea. I know you..." Sam started to argue, but Dean shook his head.

"I won't let her do anything. Just go!"

Sam took off, leaving you in Dean's arms. And while you wanted to be there, you wanted a little more action than he was giving you. Wiggling in his arms, you managed to turn, your hand instinctively landing on the bulge under Dean's denim, wishing there was less clothing between you and Dean's impressive cock. "Y/N, please sweetie. Not like this."

"But I need you." You whined, before finally realizing that Sam wasn't there anymore. "Where's Sam?"

"He went to town." Dean answered you, and you frowned.

"Why couldn't I go?" You pouted, your wrist still in Dean's grasp as he tried to keep you from unzipping his jeans.

"Sweetheart, you're going nowhere like this." Dean answered, groaning as your hand tried to slide under his shirt.

"Are you putting me under house arrest?" You purred. "Because that would be so much fun."

"Alright, I think this is enough." Dean muttered, picking you up and tossing you over his shoulder. "I'm just a man, and there's only so much I can take of you throwing yourself at me."

"Then, let's have some fun!" You exclaimed, sliding your hand under the waistband of his jeans, under the soft cotton of his boxers, squeezing the warm and meaty flesh found there.

"Hey!" He jumped as you pinched one of his cheeks.

"I feel so empty. Please, can't you help me out. I need you, inside me now." You pouted, when he didn't stop walking down the hallway.

"Not like this." He answered you, pushing open the door to your room. Tossing you down on the bed, he turned to leave.

"Dean..." You pleaded, your hands squeezing your heavy breasts, watching as his eyes widened as he turned around. "Please don't go."

"Y/N, you're killing me." He whispered, before racing from your room, locking the door behind him.

Groaning, you flopped down on the bed. Your body felt as if it was burning from the inside out. You needed something, Dean, to help take the edge off, or you thought you would end up combusting then and there.

Standing up, you made your way to the door, your knees almost giving out as you tried to move. "Dean, come back!" You yelled, pounding on the door. "I need you!"

When he didn't answer, you sank to the floor, wondering if you should get your trusty toy out, try to take care of the itch by yourself. But it brought you no joy, thinking that way. You only wanted Dean, and the real relief he would provide. Or even Sam, if he would hurry up and return from his trip to town.

Feeling too hot, too tightly coiled, you pulled your shirt over your head, along with your leggings. Sitting there in only your bra and panties, you tried picking the lock, ready to go climb into Dean's bed and wait for him to find you. "Y/N, I know what you're doing! And that's not going to work. Why don't you try a cold shower instead?"

"Only if you join me." You answered, frowning when the lock wouldn't budge. Flopping down on your bed, you groaned, the heat in your lower belly almost becoming too much to bear. "Dean, it hurts!"

"Shit." You heard him mutter, and for a second you thought he might give in. The thought had you moving until you were lounging against the headboard, your body on view as soon as he would walk through that door. But it never opened, and you were left in your room, Dean still on the other side. "Sam's on his way!"

"I want you." You pouted, and you could have sworn you heard his head bang into the wall.

Minutes ticked by, your skin growing clammy, sweat dripping down your cleavage. Writhing on the bed, you kept calling out for Dean. After what seemed an eternity, the door opened and Dean stepped inside, a bowl in his hands. His eyes widened when he took in your state of undress, gulping hard as he forced his eyes to stare into yours, and not the expanse of skin you were showing. "Y/N, he found the reversal spell." Dean explained, holding the bowl out to you. "Drink this, and it should work instantly.

"I'd rather have you than the reversal spell." You purred, trying to move across the bed to him.

"Drink." He ordered, tipping the bowl so you had no choice but to open your mouth. The liquid was warm and salty, with a hint of lime and coconut. Drinking it all, you felt it as it settled into your belly, cooling the fire raging there.

It worked instantly. No longer feeling heated and aroused, you blinked your eyes, staring down to see how little you were actually wearing. "Here." Dean told you, handing you your discarded shirt.

"What the hell happened?" You asked him, slipping it on, trying to remember anything.

"What do you remember?" He questioned, making sure to stay a couple of steps away.

"Walking into my room last night, taking a shower." You answered.

"The water might have activated the spell." He thought out loud. "How do you feel now?"

"Tired, and achy." You muttered, your head pounding. But you could still see the look of disappointment on Dean's face.

"So, the spell was the only reason you wanted me?" He asked, and you could see he was dreading your answer.

"I didn't go after Sam?" You wondered out loud.

"No, you did. But only after I wouldn't give you what you wanted." He told you truthfully.

"Dean, if I tell you something, promise me it won't change anything." You started, watching as he crossed his arms, nodding.

"Y/N, you had your hands on my ass. I don't think what you'll say will mess things up worse than that." He told you, and you blushed. But a part of you was sad that you couldn't remember the way his skin felt under your touch.

"I think the spell just amplified what I feel for you. Sure, Sam's hot, and I might have crushed on him a long time ago. But it's always been you Dean. And I think the spell knew that." You explained, watching as a hopeful smile broke out on his face.

"Thank god!" He exclaimed. "Because it took everything in my power not to bring you into my room and let you have your way with me. But I couldn't do that, not when I wasn't sure."

Standing up, you crossed over to him, still only wearing the shirt and panties. "Well, I'm not under the spell anymore. So how about we let you take advantage of me now?"

"Hell yeah!" Dean answered quickly, picking you back up in his arms, tossing you down on the bed. "I do hate witches, but at least this one gave me something I wanted."

"Ditto." You answered, pulling him down on top of you. This time, what you were feeling was real, and not brought on by any witch's spell.