A/N: I do not own the rights for Supernatural or its characters.
You've been stressed out for weeks, and the pressure has been eating at you in such way that almost everything made you practically snap. But you never did snap, you couldn't; for the sake of everyone around you, you've been keeping it all down. Working on your second PhD definitely had you on edge; leading a team of physicists working on an important project also added to the stress; and of course, being a wife and a mother put some extra weight on it all as well.
You had a good life, really. An amazing career, a loving husband, and an adorable son; which of course were the reasons why you kept everything bottled up. And sometimes, you simply felt like being someone else entirely, and do something crazy for a change. Which is what brought you here.
Your car had broken down two days ago, and now you were headed to pick it up, the anticipation making a number in your core. Not because of your car, of course, but because of your mechanic: Dean.
Dean Winchester, mechanic extraordinaire. The man could work miracles on a vehicle, and on a woman's body. Six feet of pure masculinity built for sin; long legs slightly bowed that made you want to wrap yours around them -something you've done several times. Muscular arms and chest and broad shoulders that took your breath away. Skilled hands that knew exactly how to work you over, and leave you a panting mess. And then there was his face: a jawline to die for, thick and long eyelashes shadowing a pair of hypnotizing green eyes that seemed to stare right into your very soul, consuming you. But the thing about Dean that drove you completely insane was his sinful mouth; full lips, and a tongue, that could make you scream for hours. And hell if he hadn't.
When you stepped into the garage, he was leaning over your car and under its hood; his arms and gray t-shirt were covered in sweat and grease, making the material hug and accentuate all the right places; and you sure as hell couldn't help swallowing hard at the sight of him. A smile slowly showing on his face when he heard your heels clicking on the hard concrete floor; it became a sexy smirk as soon as he checked you out. That's when you spotted the smudge of grease on his cheek, and honestly, you found it sexy as fuck.
"Damn, sweetheart, you look nice." His eyes focused momentarily on your revealing cleavage and his breath caught for a second before his tongue snaked out to wet his plump lips. You could tell he was undressing you with his eyes, and you pressed your thighs together involuntarily.
Of course you had picked this short summer dress on purpose, to get exactly this reaction out of him.
"Hi, Dean," you greeted him, almost shyly as he slowly walked over to you while wiping his hands and face on a rag, then stopping by the sink next to you to wash his hands, and soon, he was looming over you.
"Didn't think you'd come, Y/N," he teased while brushing a strand of hair off your face.
"I came to get my car." Your tone was resolute, but you were sure you didn't sell it at all.
Dean's mischievous smile confirmed as much. He leaned closer now; his scent filling your nostrils, making you thirsty for him; the smell of leather and motor oil intoxicating you to your very core.
"We both know that's not the only thing you came to get," his whisper making your pussy ache; and before you could protest, he gently grabbed you by the elbow and led you into his windowless office, closing the door behind. You certainly were not inclined to protest.
No sooner had he locked the door than he was all over you; his mouth finding yours and devouring it, his hands roaming your sides and back, squeezing here and there. You threw your arms around him, giving yourself to him; the feeling of his muscles rolling under your hands forcing a satisfied sigh out of you. As if you weighted nothing, Dean lifted you onto his desk, then cradled your face in his hands.
"God, you're so fucking beautiful, and that perfume is driving me fucking wild." His register had dropped now, hinting at the desire that was burning him up. He took a big whiff and groaned, pressing his body flush against yours as his lips nibbled deliciously at your pulse point. A faint whimper left you when you felt his hard-on brushing against your clit.
"This is so wrong," you whispered, almost breathlessly; and yet, you surrendered completely to him.
"Why's that? Because you're married, is that it?" He replied between kisses; one hand squeezing your hip, the other sneaking beneath your white dress, hitching it up and slowly making its way up your thigh to your aching pussy.
You nodded, wanting to say 'yes' out loud, but instead a soft moan left your mouth when his fingers burrowed inside your panties, prodding you.
"Nobody needs to know, baby," he crooned in your ear as his hands tugged at your underwear; and as soon as that was gone, his fingers began stroking your pubic hair -teasing you and making you gasp- before finding their real target. You whimpered in need, forgetting what you were going to say; his digits lazily playing with your wet folds before finally reaching your clit. You felt him take a deep breath before uttering a lustful "I just love how wet you already are". You hummed in response, completely aroused by his maddening games.
Dean's kisses were getting hungrier and rougher; his tongue invading your mouth deliciously. His left hand slowly traveling to your breast; thumb and index finger rolling your already hardened nipple while his other hand was tracing patterns around your pussy before pushing a finger in. You sighed in pleasure, and a moment later, two more digits joined the first one. As you rolled your hips against him, your hands found his belt and unbuckled it in a flash. You felt him smile against you when you undid the button and unzipped him.
He was hard as steel; and when he felt your hand releasing him from his boxers and grip him, he groaned low in his throat, completely shattering his self control. Soon he was lowering the straps of your dress, mouth nibbling and biting at every bit of skin between your face and your chest. The hand that was on your breast was now clutching your hips like a lifeline.
"If you keep touching me like that, I'm gonna come right now." Dean's tone was a plea, and you could tell he didn't really want you to stop pumping him, but you also knew he was right. If you kept going, this would be over too soon. You certainly didn't want that.
He kept pumping his fingers slowly, while his thumb traced circles around your clit, careful of not pushing you over the edge just yet. You were gripping his shoulders tight, forcing yourself to keep them there, to avoid his oh-so-tempting hard cock. Dean suddenly stopped, removing his fingers from your folds at once; you stared at him, blinking in confusion and disappointment at the loss of contact, but then you understood, and your heart began racing faster than before.
He knelt before you and removed your shoes, a wicked smile on his beautiful face, and hitched your legs over his shoulders -your heels firmly planted on them. His hands gliding slowly from your calves to your inner thighs. He stalled there for a brief moment, caressing you and getting you worked up all over again; and once he noticed your breathing quickening, only then did he spread you wide.
Propped up on your elbows, you threw your head back and let out a soft moan when he began kissing your folds; first is was slow and deliberate; then his tongue began teasing you in random places, purposely avoiding your clit, knowing just how much you wanted attention on that particular spot.
"Dean, please," you begged; your words barely a whisper, hoping he would oblige. And boy did he! He wrapped his luscious lips around your clit while two fingers slowly entered you. He kept a steady slow pace for a while; his mouth sucking greedily at your bundle of nerves, the tips of his digits softly brushing your g-spot. You couldn't help letting out a loud gasp and bucking up to him. His left forearm came to rest over your hips, keeping you in place, while his thumb trailed down to your clit now that his tongue joined in with his two questing fingers. The pleasure this man was providing you soon made you forget, albeit temporarily, about all the things that were troubling you
You had one hand clamped over your own mouth, drowning the moans that Dean was coaxing out of you. The other was grabbing the nape of his neck, pulling him to you. His fingers were pumping faster and faster, while his thumb applied extra pressure in hard circles; his tongue switching between fucking you, and teasing your clit. And every time you felt him groan against your skin, you felt closer to release.
Your legs were trembling by now; your skin was sweaty and on fire; and a moment later, you were coming hard. Dean worked you through your orgasm until he felt you stop shuddering; he then stood up, staring at you with a mix of awe and lust, and lifting his t-shirt to wipe your slick off his face with it.
You remained on your back for a couple of minutes, trying to catch your breath for what you were sure it would be round two for you. Dean remained silent, just staring at you; and you could see a million emotions going through his beautiful eyes. And then he did the thing almost made you come again; with his sexiest smile, he lightly traced two fingers through your folds, and then licked them clean, humming in pleasure while he was at it. "You're so delicious," he added; his tone full of lust.
You couldn't help it, and threw yourself at him; your tongue seeking entrance in his mouth, which he gladly gave. His hands were on your exposed skin at once, splayed on your back, pulling you to him. Meanwhile, you had dropped his jeans and boxer briefs down to just below his ass. You both were gasping in anticipation, feeling that fire that was again spreading rapidly.
"Fuuuck, that's so hot," he breathed when you dragged your palm along your wet folds and proceeded to fist his erection and coat it in three slow strokes. You removed his gray t-shirt hastily, biting your lips at the sight of his glorious naked chest.
Dean lined himself and slowly pushed in, inch by inch, making sure you felt every bit of him, and causing the both of you to groan in pleasure. When he bottomed out, he remained still, rolling his hips just barely until he felt the heels of your feet nudging his butt-cheeks.
He slowly pulled almost all the way out; you moaned load when he thrust swiftly all the way in. "Shhh, gotta keep quiet, sweetheart, you don't want them to hear us, now do you?" He purred in your ear as he brushed a strand of your messy hair off your face. His pace was slow and steady; he wanted to take his time, make it last. His soft lips were trailing wet kisses from your face to your neck, then back to your mouth.
In spite of all the lust coursing through him, Dean couldn't help being sweet; because , after all, he was in love with you.
Your hips kept rising up to meet him, thrust for thrust; your hands clutching at his shoulders, holding on for dear life. The way that Dean was nuzzling his head against your neck... It was maddening, and intoxicating, and everything you needed; and on top of that, the soft moans he was letting out were slowly pushing you to your next orgasm. You returned the favor, and moaned loud in his ear, causing his pace to falter, and to utter a breathless 'son of a bitch' that ended in a deep sigh.
He pulled you up to his arms; his kisses turned rough and sloppy and needy; teeth gently raking at your bottom lip; his tongue exploring your mouth expertly. His pace picked up some speed; his right hand reaching between your bodies to slightly stimulate your clit. You were grateful for the machinery noises outside of the office, or else you were sure Dean's employees would hear your moans, and the slap of skin against skin.
He applied more pressure to your center once he realized you were close; his pistonning hips becoming erratic; his free arm embracing you, shielding you, making you feel so safe. All the emotions flowing at once triggered your orgasm; Dean only had to thrust three more times before he found his release; a guttural groan escaping his lips.
You collapsed on his chest as soon as the shuddering stopped; he held you tight, kissing the top of your head and running his hands tenderly up and down your back. The drumming of his heart echoing into your ears and adding to your bliss.
"You're so beautiful," he whispered while smoothing your hair; and the sweet smile he gave you when he lifted your chin to look at you made your heart ache. He gave you one last long kiss before pulling out and away to raise his jeans up and retreat to the bathroom his office had.
You were fixing your clothes when he came back, jeans and belt done, bringing a damp towel to clean you up; once he finished, he picked up your panties and your bag from the floor and handed them to you.
"How are you feeling?" He asked as he caressed your face, and you did the same as you replied with an honest 'better now'. His smile grew wider.
You hated to break the moment, but you had no choice. "I have to go, I have to pick up Oliver from my in-laws in an hour, and I'd love to shower first. I'm sorry, Dean," you replied with an apologetic smile.
Dean nodded in understanding. "Gotcha, can't leave the munchkin waiting."
He walked you out his office, then closed the hood of your car and handed you the keys. Like the gentleman he was, he closed the door for you once you were sitting behind the wheel. "I'll see you later, sweetheart. Drive safe," he said as you drove away.
You were washing the cup you just used to drink your coffee when you heard the door open and close.
Your husband was home.
You felt his arms circle your waist from behind and you leaned into him, closing your eyes at the feel of his warm chest.
"So, I have from good authority that my wife is banging the mechanic... What a scandal." Dean tried to keep a grim voice and expression, and failed miserably; a cheeky smile slowly showing up, lighting up his eyes.
You scoffed and turned in his arms, playfully slapping his shoulder. "You're the one that came up with that roleplaying fantasy, mister, not me!"
He leaned closer to you, brushing his lips near your ear. "Can't fool me, babe. You loved it." He paused for a moment, looking you in the eye. "Did it work? Did it take the edge off, you feeling a bit less stressed?" He asked, concern all over his face.
You nodded, smiling back at him. "Yes, thank you, Dean," you kissed him sweetly.
He looked around the apartment, frowning. "Where's Ollie?"
"Ah well, turned out he was having a blast with his cousins because Sam installed some playground for the boys in the backyard, so he begged me to let him stay over. Plus Jess baked a chocolate cake for them. I couldn't refuse," you shrugged.
Dean gave you a coy smile. "So that means we can play a little more without needing to be quiet. Let's start with a shower, shall we?"
"You go ahead, I'll be right behind you," you replied and smiled as you watched him go.
Yup, your mechanic is indeed a loving husband, the best one you could have ever asked for.