Supernatural Imagines

Fertile Fields (Dean Winchester Imagine)

    Author's Note: Warning! This imagine has graphic sexual content! I'm sorry if that is not your thing. But, I should be putting up more that are more everyone friendly. I hope you enjoy!
        -T

The chill of the night was sharp, cutting down to your very bones as you stared out into the darkness. You had been waiting there for what felt like forever. Sam was gone, and you doubted that he would be back any time soon. He had driven a few hours away to meet up with a professor about some god you were all hunting... You had an inkling that it was some sort of fertility god, what with all the couples being murdered in their beds right after... doing the deed. But the guys had both agreed that it was a good idea to go talk to an expert on the subject.
    That left you and Dean stuck in the tiny ass, dingy motel room that made even the worst motels that you had stayed in seem like the Ritz.
    The breeze was starting to pick up, and you sighed as your eyes scanned the empty parking lot. You knew that it was useless to just stay outside thinking all night. If it did anything, it was going to make your brain hurt.

    Dean was sitting at the table when you came in, a glass of bourbon in his hand and a bottle on the table. His laptop was in front of him, and you could only guess what he was looking at.
    "Uh," He shut it pretty fast, and it just confirmed your suspicions. Your brow wrinkled, and you couldn't help but smirk.
    "Damn, Dean. I wasn't going to be gone THAT long." You cracked, sitting down beside him and pouring yourself a tall glass too. It had been a long, hard case so far, and you wanted nothing more than to just drown it all away for a night.
    "I-I uh, I was just doing some research." He tried to make excuses, but you knew him too well for that. You just laughed and knocked back your drink with a practiced swig. The heat burned your throat with a happy familiarity, and you cleared your throat.
    "Whatever you say, big boy." Your eyes met his, and you glanced pointedly at the bottle. "Now, are you just going to sit there, or are you gonna pour me another drink?"

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    Three hours later and the bottle was empty. You were both sprawled out on Dean's bed, giggling. You had never even heard Dean giggle, yet you there you both were making fun of Sam's hair and having the time of your lives.
    "Sometimes, I think of taking the clippers to it in his sleep," You confessed, looking through watery eyes at Dean as he tucked an arm under his head and turned to face you.
    "I think he would kill us!" It wasn't often that you got goofy when you drank, but tonight you felt particularly giddy. Maybe it was the bourbon. Maybe it was the company. Either way, you just felt... good.

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    You couldn't remember who kissed who first, just that Dean's mouth was hot and heavy against yours. Never before had you ever felt someone who's mouth was so hot, so incredible, so raw. Hands wandered, groping and teasing and touching as you felt your whole body heat under his touch. If there was one thing you were certain of, it was that you were going to fuck Dean Winchester.

    "You clean?" You gasped out as he trailed kisses down your neck and slowly started to unbutton your shirt.
    "Yeah," He said softly, stopping to look you deep in the eyes.
    "Baby, you sure you wanna do this?" He asked, all of a sudden seeming much more sober than he seemed a moment ago. Your heart was racing in your chest, but you knew that you would never be able to forgive yourself if you didn't fuck Dean Winchester. He was right in front of you, almost naked, and wanting you. That wasn't something you walked away from. And you didn't want to.
    "I'm sure," You promised him as your fingers made quick work of his belt. "I want you, Dean." He didn't need to hear another word. It was nothing but hands and mouths and bodies touching and learning from each other's moans. His weight was comforting on top of you, almost like a weighted blanket or something.