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wildwestdean · 3 months

Text

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch.

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-”

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation.

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you.

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together.

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients.

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back.

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t.

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension.

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands?

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body?

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you.

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around.

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself.

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode.

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!”

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room.

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?”

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind.

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare.

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on.

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.”

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat.

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now.

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling.

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily.

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time.

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?”

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be.

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him.

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!”

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return.

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean.

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again.

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face.

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.”

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room.

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes.

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression.

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you.

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug.

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!”

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.”

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.”

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.”

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish.

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen.

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?”

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!”

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!”

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.”

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!”

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen.

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table.

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.”

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort.

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze.

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head.

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite.

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food.

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere.

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin.

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?”

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?”

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t.

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly.

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier.

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.”

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving.

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle.

“You alright?” you asked tentatively.

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one.

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.”

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better.

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation.

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.”

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word.

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table.

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration.

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.”

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return.

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.”

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation.

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.”

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk.

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously.

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.”

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you.

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively.

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.”

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically.

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.”

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.”

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off.

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.”

“Promise?” you asked meekly.

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further.

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears.

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly.

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on.

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously.

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question.

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this.

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter.

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you.

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake.

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day.

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there.

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam.

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything.

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore.

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out.

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs.

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat.

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.”

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?”

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?”

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave.

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you.

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards.

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?”

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.”

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.”

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words.

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward.

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response.

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.”

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.”

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name.

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.”

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you?

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.”

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps.

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker.

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently.

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly.

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated.

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.”

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation.

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?”

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her.

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly.

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?”

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around.

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!”

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room.

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief.

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar.

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room.

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by.

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car.

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him.

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door.

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time.

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?”

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward.

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly.

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.”

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.”

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet.

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work.

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.”

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him.

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-”

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more.

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.”

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat.

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.”

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked.

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?”

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?”

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.”

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess.

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?”

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?”

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down.

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him.

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?”

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more.

“You said-”

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin.

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low.

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks.

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips.

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.”

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

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wayward-dreamer · 4 months

Text

Couldn't Resist

Square/s Filled: Car sex @spnaubingo

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Word count: 915

Summary: Y/N can't resist Dean when he's wearing a suit.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut: dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), car sex, public sex

A/N: Just felt like writing something short, hope you all like it! Happy reading :)

“God, we shouldn’t be doing this…”

“You’re the one who jumped me, sweetheart-”

Dean’s words were interrupted as Y/N’s lips molded to his, the kiss passionate and rough, matching the frenzy of her hands unbuttoning the top of his white shirt, knowing they didn’t have the time or the space to undress completely but she still needed to feel him. They were on a case, both of them talking to witnesses while Sam was doing research back at the motel, and well… when she saw Dean in his FBI suit she really couldn’t resist any longer than she already had since that morning. So on the drive back to the motel, she told him to pull into an alleyway next to a strip mall, climbing into his lap just as he turned off the engine to the car. It was broad daylight, there were side exits to the stores so anyone could walk out and see them, but she really couldn’t give a fuck in that moment. With her boyfriend’s hard cock pressing against her wet panties, the only thing she cared about was freeing him from the confines of his dress pants as much as she could, and getting him inside her immediately.

“What did you tell Sam?” she asked, breathlessly as his lips moved down her neck.

“Baby needed fuel,” he replied between kisses along her neck.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder to see a man walk past the alley, too distracted by his phone. Anyone walking past could easily look down the length of the lane and see them through the windshield.

“We should hurry,” she muttered, reaching for his belt.

Dean smirked as his palms slid up her thighs and over the curve of her ass, her black skirt bunched up around her waist, her own white shirt open down to her stomach with her white lace bra exposed to him, and hopefully only him. He pulled her panties aside just as she undid his pants, wrapping her hand around his incredible girth as she lifted herself up, slightly. There wasn’t any time to waste, so she didn’t, sinking down on him and letting out a rough gasp as his shaft stretched her walls, completely sheathed by them. He held onto her hips and helped her rock against him, her hands clenching his shirt tight as she threw her back, moaning loudly at the feel of his cock pumping in and out of her tight heat.

“Fuck, this is the best idea you’ve ever had, babe,” he groaned, his neck straining, veins pressed against his skin as he laid his head back against the top of the seat. “You look so fucking good like this, love it when my good girl gets so deseprate for me.”

She moaned wantonly as she continued to ride him, his hands pulling her hips down hard and fast, just the way she liked it. The head of his shaft was pressing against her g-spot with every thrust, her walls gripping him tight every time and she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold on for too long. Which was probably a good thing because of where they were. Quickies in the Impala were few and far between considering they were always with Sam, so whenever they found some time alone, they had to take it.

“Oh fuck, oh god, Dean,” she whimpered, dropping her back down and staring deep into his green orbs. “Love the way you feel, love feeling your cock inside me…”

“Shit,” he hissed, his lips pulling into a grin as he watched her. “So perfect, look so good riding my cock, sweetheart. You close?”

“Yeah,” she gasped, taking his hand and bringing it between her legs.

Y/N bounced faster on Dean’s lap just as his fingers circled her swollen nub, sounds of pleasure leaving both of them as they chased that blissful release. Her head tipped back as her hand pressed into the top of the car for leverage, her moans growing louder as her hips faltered, and he knew how close she was. With one last moan from both of them, her core tightened, her walls clenching around his throbbing cock, wetness covered him just as spurts of his seed spilled inside her. They both tried catching their breath as they came down from the high, a soft giggle escaping her as her eyes met his.

“Fuck, that was awesome,” he smirked, pulling her down for a searing kiss.

She hummed against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pushed herself closer to him. They were lost in the moment until she briefly opened her eyes, her peripheral view catching someone opening the back door to one of the stores. She ripped her mouth away from Dean’s, leaving him stunned in his seat as she climbed off his lap.

“Someone’s there,” she huffed, quickly fixing her clothes.

That launched him into action as well, making sure he was decent before starting the car, the engine roaring to life. He drove forward, looking through the rearview mirror and grinning as he saw the confused store owner watching them leave. As he pulled out onto the main road, they looked at each other, both of them erupting into laughter. He took her hand in his and brought to his lips, planting a soft kiss to her knuckles as they made their way back to the motel.

His girl was full of surprises and he loved it.

#spnaubingo #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Smut #Dean x Female!Reader Drabble #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Smut #Dean Winchester Drabble #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Supernatural Fanfiction

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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

Text

— GIMME HALF

REQUEST : “hi!! I was wondering if you could maybe write an age gap (legal obv) with female!reader × dean winchester where the reader is like in her 20s and dean's in his 40s :) just some rough smut with choking and hair pulling and spitting (if you're comfortable with it) and dean being like super "hungry" for her, like he's waited a long time for it to happen. also lots of dirty talks cause i absolutely love them hahah :) anyways im in love with your writing and all your stories! thanks a lot! <3” — anonymous

PAIRING : dean winchester x professor!reader (f.)

CHARACTERS : miracle, sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, enemies to lovers, age gap, voyeurism, smut, oral sex, p in v, praise kink, choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, rough sex, spitting

WORD COUNT : 8.4k

A/N : devil wears prada song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — chair sex and food play. I wrote this half-asleep while listening to ASMR, like… that’s how I write most of my stories, plus, they’re always written between 00.00-02.40. Doctor Who references, ‘cause I’m a nerd. I got carried away…. Cliffhanger bc I’m cruel.

There were countless pros and cons to having houses built so close together with windows facing the same direction.

Pros: Accidentally seeing your hot neighbour walk around naked in the living room and kitchen. Accidentally catching your hot neighbour jerk off when they think that everyone’s asleep.

Yup, she’s seen all of that and more. All from that nameless, freckled, green-eyed man next door.

Even wholesome things, like him playing with his cute dog, babying the little rascal and spoiling it. Him cooking and baking, being wholeheartedly content with feeding it to the tall, Hazel-eyed puppy dog of a man, the tall man’s gorgeous deaf wife, and his tiny adorable son; the blue-eyed, dreamy dude in a trench coat; and that endearing young boy with blue eyes who looked like a combination of all three of the men.

There were times where she’d seen the green-eyed man dressed as a cowboy and even a princess to entertain the little baby boy—his nephew. For sleepovers with him, he’d read him bedtime stories while being completely animated. He’d build a bunch of forts, with sheets, the couch, pillows, and some Christmas lights. He'd talk to the little boy and hold serious conversations despite neither of them being able to understand each other. He’d teach the young boy and the baby boy how to fix cars—at least he tried to. He’d pack his best friends' lunches every morning with his hair unkempt, half asleep, while sipping on some coffee. He’d even take naps with the baby, treating him as his own son.

He’d do ridiculously endearing things, too, such as baking bread at night when he couldn’t sleep. He'd read books only when he was alone, as if he’d be made fun of by his friends, and she finally understood why. They were either romantic, erotic, or completely nerdy and abstract. He had range. He’d watch cheesy soap operas and rom-com k-dramas when he did chores. He loved to collect things such as Pokémon cards and even legos.

There were a million things he did that she thought were cute. The windows into his house were like the screens of a television, like her favourite character, she got to see him when he’s relaxed and surrounded only by those who love him

As for the cons, we’ll get to that…

When they first moved in, it was about three and a half years ago. She’d been visiting her family in Kansas City for her oldest brother’s birthday in June.

When she returned to Lebanon, they had already settled down. There was a brown and beige Ford pickup truck, a black Subaru—both parked in the front, and a sleek black Impala in the driveway.

The youngest, Jack, waved at her one day when he returned with Cas after buying groceries. Then, Cas awkwardly introduced himself and Jack, and gave her the names of the other two men who were brothers, Sam is the tall one and Dean was the freckled one.

Sam was the most social one. He’d spark up conversation with her whenever he saw her, dropping bits and pieces of information about himself, his brother, his fiancée, Cas, Jack, and Dean’s loyal dog, Miracle.

After seven months of living together, Sam moved out with his wife, Eileen. They’d just gotten married, and they both invited her. She’d gone, the wedding was pretty, cute, and modest. Y/n had spoken to a few of their close family and friends. Dean, however, kept to himself the whole night as if he were grieving. He’d smile occasionally if any of his friends came to him, he was enthusiastic, and then he'd go back into himself.

Four months later, Sam and EIleen returned; she was pregnant. It was a boy, he’d planned on naming him after his big brother, which Y/n thought was adorable. He hadn’t told his brother, but planned on telling him the day his son was born.

Y/n could tell Dean had mixed feelings about his brother’s departure, mostly negative feelings. He loved Eileen and his nephew. But when it was just him, Cas, and Jack, he'd often drink, despite concerned, useless interventions with Cas. Unless Sam, Eileen, and his nephew were there. He’d never even glance at that top-shelf cupboard.

The good thing was that at least Dean was a happy drunk.

The first time she interacted with Dean was a few weeks after she’d returned from Kansas City, she assumed two things: his heart was closed off to new people, and he’s one hot, irritating, grumpy, sour, old man.

It was the spring semester at Kansas University. Y/n was grading her students’ creative, personal essays in the office downstairs. She was perplexed by the small percentage of her students and their inability to use proper grammar or follow the thorough, detailed checklist she created to get them to pass easily.

Just when she thought she’d gotten great at making their lives easy, they return the shittiest, half-assed essays. She felt bad for the bad grades, but since the rest of her students managed to get perfect scores or at least proficient scores, she couldn’t just let them pass.

Loud banging on the door startled her from reading an impressive essay. Her blood ran cold and she scrambled up from her rolling chair, ignoring that she pushed it halfway across the room.

Her socked feet were quiet on the wooden floor, making her way quickly down the hallway until she got to the shelf where she kept her gun. She pressed it against the door and looked through the peephole, then relaxed when she saw Dean.

She was irritated by the loud knocking, though, regardless of how cute he looked when he was clearly pissed off. She opened the door and set the gun down on the table where she usually placed her keys.

“Lady, have you seen the mess you made outside?” Dean asked her, pointing behind him. She stared at him, stunned by how much prettier he looked up close. Her cheeks turned hot, but she looked past him trying to see whatever he was pointing at.

She looked at her red Mustang parked in the front as a reminder to restock the kitchen, then looked close to where his house was. She winced at the mud and the running water from her hose going into his nice lawn.

“Shit,” she murmured, toeing her socks off before moving past Dean to turn the hose off. She got distracted by the mud and the puddles as she pulled the hose, and coiled it back where it should have been. It’s been a while since she last let her bare feet feel this beneath, the smell of wet dirt was amazing, even when it wasn’t caused by rainfall.

“Do you always do shit like this?” He asked from behind, his tone harsh.

She frowned when she turned to look at his furious face, careful to not touch her forehead with her muddy hands when she used her wrist to move hair away from her face.

“I’m sorry,” she apologised, tilting her head at him. He just rolled his eyes at her, then he stared at his lawn, and ran his hand down his face. “Did I do somethin’ else to piss you off?” She asked, looking around to see if there’s anything else she may have forgotten.

“One, your cat’s too damn loud, crying and meowing for my damn dog when you let him out,” he started, which made her blink in confusion. She didn’t expect something like that to get on his nerves. “And B, why the hell do you have cameras facing my place?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, her ego being injured fueled her anger and defensiveness. “Okay, listen, Doctor Who, I said I was sorry, okay?” She could tell her words stunned him by the furrowing of his brows in bewilderment, disarming him and shutting him up. “It’s not my fault your dog likes my cat, too. And the cameras are off, they’re there to scare people, so fuck off,” she snapped before she stop herself.

Dean scoffed at her, “fuck you.” She rolled her eyes at him this time, staring daggers into his back when he turned around to get to his home.

“If you’d fuck me, maybe you wouldnt be such an asshole.” Her snide words made him freeze. He laughed dryly and he turned to face her once more, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Pretty sure I’d still hate you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, crossing his own arms. That stung, even if she didn’t know him personally and half the time she spent romanticising him based on the little bit of information she had. “And I’d rather go fuck some other chick.” She clenched her jaw and breathed in slowly, angry heat began rising up her neck the faster her heart started to beat.

Entirely unintended, she venomously spat, “according to your brother, you haven’t been lucky enough, and you’re not going to be.”

“You talking to my brother about my sex life?” He stepped closer to her, his nostril flaring in anger. Betrayal and hurt crossed his features and she realised her mistake.

“No, just overheard him ‘cause you’re an overbearing douchebag,” she lied smoothly. Truth was, Sam and Eileen did accidentally—drunkenly—tell her how hard it was for Dean to maintain a serious relationship for more than three months. They don’t remember sharing that information. It was easy for her to casually ask about Dean’s love life and availability, masking her attraction to Dean as mere surprise as to how the younger brother got married before the older one. “Makes sense now why no one will sleep with you,” she laughed mockingly, stepping closer to him defiantly.

His face was red now, too. Angry, offended, he rolled his eyes at her smug face and body language. “You don’t know shit about me.”

“Sure, yeah, if that makes you feel better,” she snorted, patting his very nice, broad shoulder with her muddy hand as she made her back into her house. Preoccupied by the small mud-print on his beige Henley, he couldn’t get the last word in or stop her from leaving him flustered in her swampy driveway.

That was the start of a horrible relationship with her neighbour. The neighbour she had a crush on.

He found all kinds of reasons to complain. Big and small. And she secretly did things to piss him off, occasionally sabotaging his plans.

The thing was that deep down, she still liked him, but he made her so angry and frustrated. And it felt good to see him angry and frustrated by things she caused either on purpose or accidentally. Any attention was better than no attention.

Eventually, that all changed. The fun, the it’s-better-than-nothing feeling, it didn’t last. Fourteen months later, she stopped the cruel games and decided to avoid him completely.

When her friends offered to take her out, she agreed, even if she wanted to stay home. If Dean was home, she made sure to never say no to them, and sometimes she’d offer to take them out. Wherever.

She’d started to grade at the cafe, library, or the diner, even if Dean went to all those places often. At least he wouldn’t say anything there around all those people.

When she grew closer to Sam, Cas, and Jack, she’d find excuses not to go over to Dean’s when they offered either food, game nights, movie nights, or random hangouts. They started to notice too—the tension, the avoidance, the hostility—and they’d go over to her place instead, often without Dean, who’d choose to go out to avoid staying home alone.

It was awful. The rejection started to hurt, yet, he had her heart in the palm of his hand. Deep down, she knew that Dean wasn’t a bad person; he just didn’t like her.

Eventually, Dean ended his animosity, too, and everything went back to ‘normal’. She slowly started to reject offers from her friends to test the water, stayed home to grade, and didn't permit her cat to leave even if it cried for an escape. If she took him out, it was with a leash she eventually got him to get used to.

They ignored each other when they crossed paths—in the driveway, at the grocery store, at diners, at the cafe. They acted like complete strangers. She’d keep her curtains closed, at least she did for the windows that face his house. She made her presence as unnoticeable and as invisible as she could to prevent causing more damage to each other.

Then, about two months ago, on Halloween, Sam, Eileen, Cas, and Jack went to her house to collect candy. Sam made a point of staying back while the rest of them walked to where Dean was waiting—looking anywhere but at her house—to convince her to go to his and Eileen’s place for Thanksgiving.

He was honest, cute, wide hazel eyes attempting to convince her to try and make amends with Dean. She didn’t doubt it, when he told her that Dean felt guilty, but her pride was bruised, and her heart was broken. She told Sam she would be visiting her own family for that holiday. She omitted that she’d be going to her mother’s house a few miles away, still in Lebanon. And she easily convinced her mother to let her stay the rest of the week until she had to go back to work.

Now, Christmas was near—in four days, to be exact. It wasn’t the holiday spirit that made her change her mind, it was the hurt and the exhaustion of planning her life around avoiding Dean.

So, she called Sam, she asked if he could do anything to get Dean alone tomorrow.

For the rest of the day, she would start to prepare everything—even though it was Dean who created the mess—she was willing to make the first move and hopefully meet him halfway.

She couldn’t lie that she felt embarrassed by how excited she was to see Dean. She couldn't even differentiate the meaning of the butterflies in her stomach, but she powered through her fluttering heart and her shaking hands as she prepared everything before going to see him.

She considered not doing it at all, calling it quits—but the consequences of that quickly made her miserable. That would just mean more avoidance, more hiding, more changing everything about herself to make him happy.

All of this over one little misunderstanding. One bad day where her mouth ran without consulting her brain first ruined what could have otherwise been a good friendship—perhaps even a romantic relationship.

She was twenty-six and just like Dean, she hadn’t had a serious relationship since… Well, ever. The last time someone convinced her to date them was in highschool, and even before that, it took her a month—or less—to figure out she wanted nothing to do with them. She didn’t like the people she dated. She realised quickly that she didn’t even want a future with them, she didn’t even allow them to kiss her or touch her. So she figured that if she didn’t want to marry them, what was the point of wasting her time?

For so long, the first thing she thought of when she felt attracted to someone was: can I stand the thought of their touch? Can I see myself kissing them, letting them kiss me? Can I stand the thought of the fights and staying with them through thick and thin? Can I picture myself with them in the future, permanently?

The answer was always ‘no’ and the attraction died immediately after the realisation.

With Dean, the answer was different. Not for some stupid reason, like fate, or the boy-next-door trope. No. This was reality, and the real reason was the fact that she got to see who he was before she was attracted to him.

It was the selflessness, the love in everything that he did, the gentleness of his heart, the kindness that radiated from him, and the ease in the way he did chores, the way he made his friends laugh, his playfulness, the loyalty, the way he was clearly protective.

It was the open windows of her house into his open windows that let her see through him, down to his very beautiful core. It was the lack of hidden things, the openness of his soul because he felt safe, unwatched. It was real because Cas, Jack, and Sam were proof that even though Dean wasn’t perfect, he was worth it.

The Doctor did say once: the good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice-versa, the bad things don’t necessarily spoil the good things and make them unimportant.

For the first time, she was willing to take a chance.

She smoothed down the silky emerald-green dress. It was pretty, flowing down her body perfectly, stopping at the middle of her calves…. Actually, now that she looked at herself in the mirror, her curls perfectly maintained, the light touch of makeup, the heels… was it too much?

She ignored those anxious thoughts and made sure she had everything she needed and everything that she prepared before stepping out into the cold.

The spaghetti straps didn’t stop the cold, but the heat of her nervousness at least did something as she walked up to his door and waited after knocking gently.

When he opened the door, he was stunned to see her.

“What?” He asked bluntly.

She could tell that the way she was dressed caught him off guard. His eyes moved from her face, up to her hair, back down to the boxes in her hands, and lower to her feet.

“I’ve got pie,” she said the first thing her mind thought of. Yes, it was blunt, yes, it disarmed him further… It was not smooth, but Dean looked behind him, and then he looked at her once more while biting his lip before opening the door wider, and stepping out of the way for her to enter.

She exhaled shakily as he scratched the back of his neck. Out of habit, she slipped out of her heels before stepping inside his home, planting her bare feet on the soft, long rug he had. He kindly, wordlessly, took her heels from outside and placed them on the shoe rack he had inside before shutting the door behind her.

She felt so… warm. Finally, she was inside the place she longed to be in. Right where Dean was. Along the walls there were dozens of pictures, but she didn’t go too far, she waited for him.

She felt his presence behind her and it made her shiver, but she couldn’t bring herself to look back at him. Instead, she stared at photos of him with Cas, Sam, Jack, and other people she hadn’t met. Women and Men. Dean was smiling in all of them. And in a large majority of them, they were looking at him while he looked at the camera.

What a funny thing.

“Here,” he said from behind her, his deep voice sounded soft, gentle, unlike the last time they spoke to each other. It made her shudder. “Let me help.” She slowly braced herself when she turned around, staring into his beautiful green eyes, illuminated magically by Christmas lights.

“Thanks,” she whispered, carefully loosening her grip on the objects in her hand for him to take what he wanted—which was everything.

She stepped to the side when he murmured, “no problem,” and started to walk off to the kitchen. She followed him slowly, took a look around, respectfully, curiously, just when she heard the clicking of nails and the thump of paws on wooden floors, and the bark of his dog headed in their direction.

“Miracle,” Dean grunted, setting everything down on the table, “not inside.” While the fluffy dog did stop its excited running, his enthusiasm was not lost as he wagged his tail, and playfully got down on his stomach in front of her feet. Still on his belly, Miracle approached Y/n slowly, paws and tongue at her toes, as if testing the waters.

“Hey,” she greeted softly as she squatted slowly and laughed quietly, gently scratching Miracle’s head as he nudged her hand with his wet nose, staring up at her with adorably wide eyes—much like Sam did. “You’re so cute,” she cooed, her heart warming up when Miracle barked quietly.

He then jumped up and turned towards Dean, who was watching them—perplexed, happy, conflicted.

“You were asleep,” Dean scolded, but sweetly took Miracle’s head in his hands and kissed him between his ears. Miracle whined and stepped away, sitting in front of Dean as if saying ‘I’ll be good if you let me stay’. “Whatever,” Dean groaned with a smile, which made Miracle happy, because he laid his cheek on his paw and stared up at Dean, resting.

Now, it was awkward.

Dean caught her staring at him, her expression inquisitive. She cleared her throat awkwardly, but she couldn’t form words. She only now noticed that he was wearing a faded black shirt and hotdog pyjama pants.

“So…” Dean began instead, “pie.” It wasn’t any better, but it’s as she always said: it was better than nothing.

“Yes,” she confirmed, “strawberry… you weren’t getting ready for bed…?” She inquired, tipping her chin in the direction of his attire.

“Not to sleep,” he reassured her, taking a few steps toward the cupboards to pull out two plates, glass cups, and then some utensils from the lower drawer. “Why are you doing this?” Dean asked quietly from where he was across the kitchen, everything still in his hands.

“I deserve better that’s why,” she snapped. He blinked at her, guilty, but she paused and took a deeper breath. Careful to not smear her eyeliner, she rubbed her temples instead. She reached behind her to wrap her ankle around the leg of a chair to pull it out and sit down. “Sorry, I don’t like… being angry,” she breathed out, looking out his kitchen window into her dark living room. She switched the Christmas lights off. “It's very stressful because I…” She turned to look at him and forgot her words as he came closer.

He looked cuter in person and prettier, still. Three years and nothing has changed, he still had her heart right in his hand.

“Why?” He pressed, placing everything down on the table in front of her. Looking up at him felt intimidating, so she averted her gaze. He was much older than she was… it made her… feel dumb. See-through. Like he could figure her out in seconds.

“Because I’m friends with your friends,” she admitted without looking at him, then she reached out to arrange the plates, cups, and utensils. He sat down thoughtfully, and watched her unstack the small boxes she brought over.

“You’re doing this for them,” he laid out flatly, but he took a seat next to her and stared at her. His eyes on her made her self-conscious, flustered. She bet he could see everything, all the ugly and the weird in her.

“I’m doing this for me,” she corrected him gently, “I just want to be happy,” she sighed, removing the plastic wrap she placed over the pie she baked. “Is that selfish?” She wondered out loud, taking the knife, she stared at it.

“No,” Dean sighed, wrapping his hand around hers to take the knife. She inhaled sharply at the warmth of his touch, his calloused palms brushing against the back of her hand, sending warmth over her chest, pressing into her wrist with her heart excitedly pounding against her ribs.

She released the knife into his hold, trying to hide how much he affected her, but she doubted she could fully do that with the Christmas lights exposing the blush she could feel on her face. She could feel her veins pumping blood faster, caught up with the heavy beating of her heart. If he looked down at her neck, he could probably see it in her veins.

She looked away, down at Miracle who was still peacefully laying on his belly, and Dean looked away towards the beautiful pie to start slicing into it.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, taking her plate to give her the first slice. She looked up at Dean, taking the plate with a generous slice of strawberry pie.

“I wanted to be the first to say it…” She complained playfully, trying to maintain eye contact with him, but his beauty was intimidating, forcing her to look away, “soon as my ego stopped being sensitive,” she added.

Dean laughed softly, placing his own slice on his plate. The sound of his laugh made her smile, her stomach flipped with elation, at the crinkles by his eyes. Her breathy exhale made him look at her.

“Well, I’m forty-four, my ego’s been bruised enough times,” he told her, “I don’t care much for it when…” he trailed off and chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. She bit her lip, too, trying not to stare too long at his pretty mouth.

“Well, thanks,” she murmured, her jaw twitching as she looked away from him.

“I’d consider all this an apology,” he told her, gazing at her as she opened two rectangular boxes. She smiled, shaking her head. She pulled out a bottle of homemade eggnog along with a decorated jar filled with white frosting, and a small container with crushed peppermint candy. “This isn’t… poisoned, right?” He teased, still watching her while she opened the bottle of rum eggnog, she tilted her head at him, amused. “Just making sure… you did make all this…” he trailed off, impressed.

“Taste the pie,” she encouraged as she started making the drinks.

“You’re just trying to shut me up,” he chuckled gruffly, but he picked up his fork and started to dig in. The strawberry filling barely touched his tongue when he moaned, she watched him not even begin to chew. His brows furrowed and he closed his eyes, savouring the pie.

It made her blush, but she focused on covering the rim of the cups he brought with the whiskey frosting she made and the peppermint candy shavings before filling it with eggnog.

“You made the frosting, too?” He asked, tipping his head towards the jar. His mouth was full, some strawberry filling dripped down the corner of his mouth, but he picked it up with his tongue. She licked her lips, trying to stop herself from breathing airily, and passed him the eggnog with a nod and slid the jar of frosting towards him to serve herself some eggnog.

Dean dipped his finger into the frosting, collecting a large amount before wrapping his lips around his finger to suck the frosting off. She forced herself to look away from how hot he looked and ate her own slice of pie instead.

“I’ve seriously been missing out,” he murmured regretfully. “I was real childish,” he told her, “I never should’ve gotten pissed over… everything-”

“Dean,” she interrupted him, giving him a sheepish smile, “you already apologised and I forgive you. Besides, I did things, too.. on purpose… so, I’m sorry.” She pursed her lips and took a sip from her eggnog, swiping her tongue along the sweet frosting.

“You did things on purpose?” He repeated, a smirk on his face. She breathed out a laugh and nodded bashfully. “Why?” he wondered, leaning into her curiously, subtly moving his plate of food towards her. She considered being blunt, but she chose to test him instead.

“Probably the same reason you got pissed at everything I did and didn’t do,” she laughed, pulling a piece of strawberry out of the pie to put it in her mouth.

“I doubt that,” Dean muttered, picking up his own drink, and taking a large gulp. She eyed him closely, her eyes becoming hooded when he licked across his lips after drinking to collect the thin layer of sweetened alcohol on his mouth.

“What was your reason then?” She wondered flirtatiously, her voice low and seductive. She pushed her plate away with her arm., and mimicked his body language, scooting forward in the chair.

She watched as his eyes darkened and his jaw clenched, his hand tightening around his fork before he dropped it. She’d never quite been stared at that way before, but it suddenly—almost, made her laugh. Her legs felt weak, her stomach heavy, almost fooling her into thinking she couldn’t get up, but she did.

With a rapid heart and shaky knees, she pushed her chair back, and Miracle lifted his head in alarm. Dean leaned back in his chair, sliding his palms up his thighs, and watched hungrily as she lifted her dress up her legs, squeezing in front of him and part of the table to sit on his lap.

“Seems like we’ve both been missing out on a lot of stuff,” she whispered, her stomach fluttering for a variety of reasons, but mostly from excitement. He bit his lip, eyes twinkling as he placed his hands slowly on her thighs. She sank her teeth down on her lip, too, breathing heavily when his hands began sliding up her thighs, lifting her dress higher, and higher.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered, continuing to move her dress up until his hands were wrapped around her hips where he could realise she wasn’t wearing any underwear. “I thought I should tell you, before I ruin you,” he rasped, tightening his hold on her hips.

“Fuck,” she moaned, moving forward in his lap until their hips were pressed together. She brought her hands into his hair, and pulled it gently, bringing her mouth close to his, but she never kissed him. She breathed against his lips and when he leaned forward to kiss her, she pulled back teasingly.

“You’re seriously gonna make me wait?” He whispered, slowly rolling his hips up into her, his hard cock pressing into her wet core. She gasped softly against his mouth and laughed breathlessly.

“You feel good,” she praised, flushing as she ground against him harder.

“I’d feel better inside you,” he smirked, sliding one of his hands farther up her dress, his warm palm flattening up her stomach reverently, stopping beneath her breasts..

“I bet,” she moaned, arching into his touch before finally pressing her tinted lips against his. Dean moaned softly against her mouth, pressing against her hungrily, then lifted her up, carefully moving his plate and cup aside to lay her down on the table.

“Miracle, bed,” Dean ordered when he pulled away from her lips. The dog obediently stood up and excitedly made his way to where Dean’s room was. Dean kissed her once more, drawing her attention away from Miracle and back to him.

She’d never been kissed the way Dean kissed her or touched the way Dean touched her. His hands were everywhere, testing, learning, skillful. He scratched her skin sending sparks down to her already soaked core, kneading her body roughly until she moaned against his mouth. He squeezed her and made her wet. He dug his blunt nails into her and made her nerves ignite. His hands smoothed across her, sailing over her body like she were an ocean and he was a sailor.

He was desperate, devouring her mouth with his tongue and his teeth, putting his all into the kiss, licking her lips, teasing the inside of her mouth, brushing against her warm tongue. He yearned to memorise the taste of her mouth, to feel close to her, pressing and moaning against her the way he’d done when he ate the pie and frosting. He nibbled on her lips, tugging, biting, claiming, taking the air from her lungs and pulling away at the perfect time.

He rolled his hips into her frantically and finally started to move away from her now-swollen lips, the colour of her raspberry tint robbed and replaced by the redness of his kiss.

He dragged his teeth teasingly along her jaw and licked his way down her neck, pressing his stubbled face into her neck, kissing and sucking softly, searching. She rolled her head to the side, giving him all the access he needed, until finally, she moaned loudly when he sucked into her sweetspot. He smiled against her throat, feeling her take handfuls of his shirt, her hips wiggling impatiently beneath him.

He kissed lower still, then back up to the other side of her neck, and bit her collarbones, kissing every inch of her skin, her shoulders and her sternum. She loved every second of it and slipped her hands beneath his shirt, touching and scratching his skin, pulling him closer as he bucked into her bare core.

“Did you know your shirt was see-through when we first met?” He whispered into her cleavage. She laughed and replied with a breathless ‘no’. “Well.. your tits on display, legs bare in those tiny shorts, all pissed as hell… it was hot,” he chuckled, lowering the thin straps of her dress until the top started to reveal her breasts.

“Is that why you jerked off that night?” She asked, gripping his hair and tugging hard. He grunted and laughed, staring into her lustful eyes.

“You saw?” He teased, bringing his hand to her breast, squeezing roughly. “The answer’s yes.. And everytime after that, it was also ‘cause of you,” Dean confessed, “couldn’t stop thinking about you, every day and every night. I thought I hated you, but I guess I just needed to fuck you.”

She chuckled, gripping the hem of his shirt, dragging it up his body as he latched onto her nipple. She hummed softly, tugging hard at his hair, in complete bliss as he wrapped his mouth around the bud, licking, sucking, and biting until she whimpered for him to give her more—which was impossible. He moved onto her other breast, savouring her warm skin with his hotter mouth, tugging her neglected nipple with his fingers, twisting and pinching.

“Please,” she moaned, yanking his hair so he’d pull away. Dean growled against her flesh and bit down hard on her breast, before pulling away, drawing a mewl from her of his name.

“You could be nicer,” he muttered, allowing her to lift his shirt up off his body, but he continued to kiss her breasts, sucking gently around the flesh to leave red marks. He lifted her feet up on the table and pressed her thighs close to her chest, opening her up to admire her soaked sex.

“We’re long past nice, pretty boy,” she teased blushing and biting her lip when he stood up straight. She didn’t look at him, too insecure to watch him as he brought his hand to the inside of her thighs, teasing her vulva.

“You think I’m pretty?” He grinned, circling her entrance, moaning at copious amounts of arousal on his fingers. “So wet… you that needy for my cock inside you?” He asked smugly.

She looked at him now, heat flooding up her face at his obscene words. Before she could say anything about it, the tattoo on his chest drew her attention away from the adorable pride on his face.

“You’re a hunter,” she stated, stunned, blinking at him with a smile. He looked down at himself then at her, speechless. She lifted her hips and hitched her dress up higher to reveal her ribcage where she had the same tattoo, twice as small.

“You’re a professor,” he remarked with arousal on his face, pushing his finger into her. He lowered himself down her body and wrapped his arm around her legs, holding her open as he breathed warmly against her wet cunt.

Before she could close her legs to him demurely, Dean dove in, his mouth hot on her pussy. He ate her out the same way he kissed her, teeth making her whimper, his tongue parting and tasting, picking up the flavour of her wetness as she moaned.

He salivated on her, humming in satisfaction while he sucked her clit into his mouth while he fingered her. Her hands found his hair once more, pulling hard and almost painfully, but his cock jumped each time inside the thin material of his pyjamas. Dean added a second finger as he moaned against her swollen clit, knuckles deep, pressing against the front of her textured walls, drawing silent moans from her, making her squirm more and more.

“Fuck,” she panted, “you’re so good,” she praised, flexing her hand above his head before gripping at the honey strands. He slurped lewdly, devouring her pussy, squeezing her hips desperately holding her close to his face while she pushed him harder against her cunt. “Dean… I’m close,” she moaned, closing her legs around his head.

He moaned again, adding another finger, shoving deep as he circled her swollen clit with his tongue, drawing figures on her clit possessively. She gasped loudly and cried out his name, tensing up when she orgasmed, her walls clamping down on his three fingers. The rapture of her orgasm seemed endless as he continued to tongue at her clit, it made her writhe uncontrollably, and he smirked against her pussy.

Her whiny laugh and the way she squeezed his head to stop him made him chuckle, and he tapped her thigh once he pulled his fingers from within her pulsing walls. She released him, melting into the table while he licked his fingers clean of her release.

“You taste good,” he told her earnestly, “so fucking good.” She bit her lip, giving him a look of disbelief. He narrowed his eyes at her, leaning down to lick a long stripe up her pussy, then down, pushing his tongue past her clenching, wet hole.

“Dean, fucking…” she moaned, “oh, God, why does that feel good?” She snickered, then he pulled away hovering above her. She opened her eyes to his smug face, his clean fingers squeezed her cheeks roughly until she opened her mouth. She furrowed her brows, whining out with her hands around his wrist so he’d release, but she shut up when he spit in her mouth.

“Taste yourself,” he ordered, licking his lips. Her pupils dilated as she looked into his eyes, the tangy taste of herself made her mouth water and she swallowed. “D’you know how hot you are?” He asked rhetorically, kissing her roughly once more, ravenous and stopped only when he felt her hands pushing his pants down his legs.

“I want you, Dean,” she whispered against his mouth, biting his lip before returning the passion of his kiss.

“Where?” He asked teasingly, wrapping his arm around her waist, he sat her up on the table and gently held her face in his hands, before releasing her to strip completely.

“I want you inside me,” she told him coquettishly, hopping off the table to slowly let her dress pool around her feet. “I want to ride you, to feel you stretch me open…” she walked towards him, watching him completely aroused, a look of pleasant surprise on his face, “I want you to fill me up, and make me cum on your cock…” she licked her lips, staring down at his cock, erect and leaking precum. “... I’ve never seen a dick this nice,” she told him, wrapping her hand around the base and stepping closer to him.

He grunted, “suck it then.” She laughed through her nose, releasing his cock to fondle his balls. He moaned, stumbling slightly. “I’ve been wanting to shut you up with my cock in your mouth,” he told her, a smirk on his face, “now, I’m just thinking how pretty you’ll look with your lips wrapped around me.” Dean reached up and curled his fingers around the back of her neck.

She looked behind him, removed her hand, and tipped her head to the chair, “sit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned, kicking the chair towards him like she had earlier, then he sat, legs wide and tempting. “You’re sexier than you were in my imagination,” he told her, watching her get down between his legs, kissing his thighs while looking up at him through her curled lashes.

“Keep talkin’,” she grinned up at him, taking his heavy cock in her hand once more. Dean gave her a sexy look, smug and aroused.

“I wanna finish in your mouth,” he told her, “want to see you swallow my load.” Pleased, she moved forward and began kissing and licking the length of his cock, teasingly and experimentally feeling the velvety, veiny texture against her hand, tongue, and lips. “I want to hear you choke on my cock, and see what you look like with tears in your eyes as I fuck your pretty face.” She moaned softly, intrigued by the description of his fantasy.

She dipped her tongue into the slit, moaning at the taste of his precum, drooling over the soft head of his cock before sucking him into her mouth.

“Fuck,” he moaned, tangling his fingers in her hair. She slowly took him deeper, pulling him out of her hot mouth teasingly, then swallowing inch by inch of his hard cock. “You’re so good at that, baby,” he panted, letting her take her time at her own pace, but he gripped her hair tightly. “Don’t stop,” he moaned, staring into her eyes as she continued to take his cock, bobbing her head, not stopping until he hit the back of her throat. She swallowed around him, and he bucked his hips up, releasing a whispered curse, attempting to keep his eyes open to watch her suck him off.

She got comfortable between his legs, taking his freehand to put it in her hair. He took her hair, put it together, and waited for her permission before slowly lifting his hips, pushing his cock slowly into her throat. When she gagged, he slowly pulled back, then pushed back into her, lips parted, releasing quick breaths.

Eventually, he started to fuck her face in earnest, lifting his hip up off the chair, pulling her hair hard to guide her on and off his dick. Her spit dribbled down her chin in a mixture of his precum. She swallowed as much as she could, moaning and blinking tears that tickled her eyes and her jaw.

“You look so fucking…” he chocked on a moan, “so damn sexy.”

She ignored the soreness of her jaw, relaxing it as best as she could as he fucked her near mercilessly. Her pussy throbbed with every sound of his pleasure, clit aching for attention at the way he gazed down at her with burning desire, but she refused to touch herself, enjoying the build-up, the desperation for another orgasm, for his touch.

He throbbed in her mouth, turning to mush beneath her mouth. He even began to whimper and moan her name, praises and dirty words becoming scarce in attempts to hold back his orgasm, edging himself with her mouth. It didn’t take long for him to hold her with her nose against his pelvis breathlessly.

He pulled her off his cock, and released her hair to wipe tears tenderly from her hot cheeks with his thumbs, trying to get his mind off the near-pleasure of her mouth around his cock while catching his breath.

“Yummy,” she rasped, pulling a breathless laugh from him. She wiped her chin with her shoulder and smiled up at him, slowly getting up on her knees to get rid of the ache of sitting on her legs.

She got up, leaning back against the table, admiring him in his red, flushed, somewhat sweaty state. His hair was a mess from her hands and he had a blush around his neck to his ears. She knew the hardness of his body accounted for the fact that he was a hunter, as well as the scars she felt beneath her soft hands, bite marks, bullet wounds, and healed slashes.

“Come closer,” she told him and he laughed, bringing himself and the chair closer, stopping when she sat on his thighs, fixing herself over his strong thighs. “Gonna cum if I tease you?” She asked, tapping the head of his cock. It twitched instantly and he moaned.

“Depends,” he replied breathily, sliding his hands up her body. She hummed softly, spreading her legs, positioning his cock near her soppy folds.

“On what?” She cackled playfully, parting her folds with one hand, circling her clit with her fingers. He watched her lustfully, the wetness that made her pussy shine coated her fingers.

“How wet and warm you feel on my cock,” he replied truthfully. He grabbed her hand and moved it out of the way anyway, taking his cock to push it between her folds, pressing the tip against her clit.

“Fuck, Dean,” she moaned softly, grasping his shoulders, “you feel… I need you,” she whimpered, rolling her hips along the length of his cock. He moaned with her, moving her hips closer to him, her wetness coating his cock.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, sweetheart…” Dean moaned, watching her lean back against the table, positioning the soft head of his cock to her entrance. Completely enthralled, he watched himself slip inside her, and she watched him, biting her lip hard in concentration, the stretch of her walls around him almost painful. “Fuck… I can feel how bad you need me… I need you just as bad,” he panted, flexing his hands on her thighs, desperately trying not to thrust up into her warmth. He dug his nails into her flesh, his head tipping back, his hips rolling up.

“Dean,” she moaned again, starting to lift herself up and down his cock, reaching up to cup her breast. “Shit, you feel amazing,” she breathed out, grinding her hips against his until he was fully inside her.

“You okay?” He asked, one of hands drifting up to knead her breast comfortingly. She nodded, buried her fingers in his hair and brought him in for a kiss as she bent her knees, and tucked her feet in between his thighs.

“I could cum like this,” she mumbled against his lips. His chuckle rumbled through his chest and he shook his head, her pussy clenched at the sound and she started to lift herself up again.

“Don’t worry,” he told her, sucking on his lip momentarily. “I’ll make you cum so hard…” He paused to moan, thrusting up into her slowly, meeting her hip. “...you’ll never want to fuck anyone else,” he promised her, building up the pace of his thrusts until she stopped moving with him altogether, letting him fuck up into her needy cunt.

“You’ll only wanna be fucked by me,” he continued, watching her lean back with her elbow on the table, her hands roaming his warm body, “and I’ll be there, ready to fuck you hard.” He looked over her shoulder, at the jar of frosting. “Pounding into your sweet cunt,” he swore breathlessly, reaching behind her, dipping his fingers to gather frosting, “makin’ you beg, makin’ you impossibly wet.” He smeared frosting over her nipples, over her collarbone, her sternum, until he had no more while she moaned his name needily.

“Makin’ you feel things you’ve never felt before.” He gripped her hip with frosting-coated fingers, leaning forward to lick and suck the whiskey frosting from her body. “I’ll fill you up as many times as you want,” he vowed, smoothing her hand up her back, into her hair once more, pulling until she whined his name. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want.”

Her pussy continued to gush over Dean’s cock the more he talked—his breathless, husky voice taking her over the edge. Each rough pull of her hair made her mewl and whimper as she rolled her hips desperately against his.

“Dean, please,” she whispered, scratching down his back, digging marks into his skin the harder and faster he thrusted into her. Loud skin slapping, the wet sound of her pussy being penetrated, with every push of his cock in and out of her, squelching and driving her crazy. She dug her nails into her palm, making obscene sounds that made her self-conscious.

“I’ll fuck you all over your house, all over mine.” Another moan of his name, another rough pull of her hair. “I’ll fuck you in my car, in your car, anywhere and all over town.” He pulled away from her sticky chest, licked his lips at the sight of her, so she screwed her eyes shut. She felt a warm pool of wetness on her pelvic bone, opened her eyes to him spitting between their bodies, watching his saliva drip down her folds to her clit.

She’d never heard of or experienced sex quite this raw and dirty.

“I’ll make you scream my name, make you forget how to talk, how to walk…” She leaned back into him, panting into his ear, keeping him close while rubbing her clit. He yanked her hair, forcing her to look at him.

“Dean…”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he whispered, closing his eyes, he breathed against her lips, “and I want you forever.”

As he promised, she cried out his name when she came, squeezing his cock hard, coating him in her release. He grunted her name, cursing loudly as he came inside her, his hot seed spurting into her, filling her as he said he would.

He circled his arms around her as she writhed once more, releasing her hair as she put her arms around his neck, panting and catching her breath until the pleasure subsided.

“I want all of that,” she murmured after a few moments of silence, kissing his cheek. He squeezed her and moved back, bewildered. He moved hair from her face and tilted his head at her, drawn to her nakedness, her flushed beauty. “First, I want to shower…” Slowly, carefully, she climbed off his lap, her legs shaky, her pussy releasing the mixture of their pleasure.

“That’s a good start,” he told her softly. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbled when he stood up from the chair and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “No one’s coming home anytime soon… thanks to Sammy…” Dean trailed off, smoothing his hand over his head to fix his hair.

“Thanks to me,” she came clean with a shy smile, bringing his gaze up to hers. His eyes twinkled and he laughed loudly, tugging her towards him again by her arm, his lips pressing against hers.

➥ sempiternal

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thebiggerbear · 4 months

Text

Dean Winchester x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

Summary: When Sam calls to tell you that Dean is gone, you can't accept it. Not until you visit the offline Bunker and see for yourself. ...But is he really gone?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader

A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I had this idea for a scene in my head that took place during 15x20 with the reader and Sam & then from there it just kind of wrote itself, including the semi-twist. Hope it's okay.

There is a song mentioned in here ("Is This Love" by Whitesnake) which is a sort of homage/dedication/thank you. I read this Dean x Reader fic a long time ago (I can't remember the name of the fic or the author right now, I'm sorry!) but they used the song for some Dean/Reader time in the Impala and I had never heard the song before so I checked it out. I have become obsessed with it. It's so perfect, not only for Dean but in general as an 80s love rock ballad. So thank you to that author whoever you are!

This is meant to take place between mid-15x20 and Dean's foray in The Winchesters (pre-series).

Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: angst; mentions of character death; mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 12k+

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."

You sat on the corner of the bed in your motel room, numb, your phone next to you, having been forgotten long ago.

It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. You refused to believe it. How was Dean just gone? On a simple hunt? How?

Sam had called you to give you the news. You could hear the breaks in his voice as he relayed what happened, sounding as if he had been crying just a few minutes before. Vampires. Who were mute. A gang of them run by a vampire named Jenny they had faced off with years ago. On a hunt with John. She had gotten away and they thought she was gone for good. Apparently not.

You were frozen, in shock, unable to process what he was telling you.

“Y/N?”

“I… I need to see him,” you whispered.

Sam was quiet for a moment before he forced out, “I gave him a hunter’s funeral.”

You shut your eyes in pain. “What?” You could feel your throat tightening as well as your chest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I had to. I couldn’t…” You heard him take a breath. “I couldn’t make the long drive with… I just couldn’t.” You could hear those breaks again and you should have been hurting for him, that not only did he have to watch his brother die but he’d had to burn him alone. But right then you got angry and you couldn’t help snapping at him.

“Why would you burn his body, Sam? You know we need his body to bring him back!”

“Y/N, he didn’t want to be brought back.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yeah, I do. He told me right before he died. As long as I was going to be okay,” Another break. “He was done.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and regret immediately consumed you. You knew Sam was telling you the truth. Dean making sure Sam would be okay as he was dying clinched it for you. Sam had always been his main concern. You started mentally berating yourself then. If only you hadn’t let fear stop you, you could have given him something to live for, to fight for. He would have let Sam call for help, call Jack, something. He would have made sure he somehow made it home, just like he always did. But you didn’t and now, he was gone. Truly and irrevocably gone.

Another tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “I have to go, Sam.”

“Y/N, I—”

You ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. You weren’t trying to be heartless. Sam was obviously struggling and you should be there for him. That’s what Dean would want, you knew that. The two of you being there for each other, helping one another, you looking after his little brother while he looked out for you. But you just…couldn’t.

Why hadn’t you called Dean? After everything that went down with Chuck and Jack? Why hadn’t you reached out? You owed him that at the very least. So why hadn’t you?

You knew the answer to that. You were scared and like a coward, you’d told yourself it wouldn’t have made a difference. It wouldn’t have changed anything. But a part of you knew it would and that scared you just as much.

You thought back to the last time you’d seen him, right after he and Sam went to try to get Amara on board against Chuck. He was still reeling with the news that Cas had told him before he’d left, that Jack was going to sacrifice himself to kill Chuck. He cared about Jack, more than he let on, even though the kid had accidentally killed Mary. Jack was family to him and he was having a serious moment of doubt. If Jack’s plan would work; if he should let it happen; if he should tell Sam; if Chuck hadn’t been right, he would win in the end. He was so beyond tired of that: Chuck winning. He didn’t want to sacrifice Jack but if they could be free of Chuck and have a chance…

He was torn up about it and he’d called you, asked you where you were, then begged you to come to the Bunker when he found out you were only an hour or so away. You hadn’t wanted to, you could hear the desperation in his voice and you knew all too well what would happen if you went. You were still hurting and you didn’t know if you could survive that.

You didn’t bother telling him that the reason you were an hour outside of town was because you’d temporarily settled there, not sure where to go or what to do. Sure, you took on hunts here and there, but ultimately you were lost. Ever since Dean broke things off with you because he couldn’t tell what was real anymore versus what had been Chuck all along. The breakup had hurt, of course, but that caused pain in you that you weren’t really sure you would ever come back from. Him thinking everything between you might not be real? After you’d given him everything you could because you deeply loved him? In your heart, you knew it was real, but when you had said this to him, he’d simply responded with “I don’t” in his typical detached way he adopted whenever he had made up his mind that he had to do something for the greater good, no matter how hard it might be. You thought he had already broken your heart, but it shattered right then in your chest.

Since it was Dean, though, and he never begged, you went. And sure enough, what you worried would happen, happened. One minute, you’d been wiping the rare tears he let fall around you, and the next minute, he was kissing you and gently pushing you back onto his bed. You could feel the desperation in his movements, his touches, the way his lips trailed over your skin. Shockingly, he took his time with you, and it only hit you halfway through that this was his real goodbye. It wasn’t guaranteed that Billie’s plan would work but he hoped it would. And if it did, then that meant he and Sam would finally be free and they could hang it up if they wanted to, do something else with their lives and move on. And that possible future didn’t include you.

You’d silently cried then, holding onto Dean as he moved and moaned into your ear. When he pulled back to kiss you, your cheeks were free of any tear tracks and you kissed him back. You wondered how on earth he couldn’t feel that this was very real between you as you moved your hips to meet his in a tender rhythm as he held you in his lap, his green eyes staring into yours as he held you close. Sex was sex but this right here, this right in between you right then that he refused to put a name to, it was beyond real. You knew he could feel it just as much as you could…so why was he still hellbent on throwing it (and you) away?

A little while later, you had laid there, with his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, his body still entangled with yours, staring up at the ceiling as you both were still trying to catch your breath. Your heart spoke for you before you could stop it. “I love you,” you whispered, meaning it with every fiber of your being.

It shocked the hell out of you and made something warm and fluttery happen inside your chest when he sleepily murmured to your skin, “Love y’too. Don’go.” You ended up chalking it up to him being in a post-sex sleep daze though, not knowing what he was really saying or even really having heard you correctly. That or he only meant for the night because the very next morning, things went back to how they were.

Dean seemed surprised when he woke up to find you next to him, scrolling through the news feed on your phone for any new cases. You’d given him a warm smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased.

Instead of smiling back, though, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hey.” You could see that familiar detached expression settle on his features and you knew he was regretting the night before. He had been drinking by the time you got there, sure, but he hadn’t been inebriated. He was incredibly lucid by the time he made a move on you so try as he might, this couldn’t be chalked up to a drunken mistake.

You could literally feel that wall going back up and you gave one last ditch effort to keep him from shutting you back out, even laying a hand over his. “Dean, don’t—”

He pulled away from you and got out of bed, quickly slipping on his Scooby Doo boxers and jeans that he grabbed from the floor. You might have smiled seeing the familiar underwear that you hated but secretly loved if you weren’t hurting so much. “I’m hungry. You hungry?” He asked, slipping a black t-shirt over his head. “I’ll go see if Sam’s cooking anything up. I need a serious cup of coffee. You just…” He glanced back at you, seeing you holding the sheet tightly to your chest as you watched him, compulsively swallowing when he saw your eyes glistening. “You, uh, just come out when you’re ready.” He then made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and never looking back.

You sat back against the headboard, dissolving into a fit of tears and quiet sobs. You knew you should have never come. Once you were able to breathe without fresh tears welling up, you got yourself cleaned up and redressed. You splashed some water on your face and you took a deep breath before leaving the room. You were near the bunker stairs when Sam called out to you.

“Hey! Y/N!”

He was coming over to you, a big smile on his face. He was pleased to see you.

“Hey,” you greeted back just as warmly, forcing a smile.

He gave you a quick hug and you could see Jack a little ways behind him, giving you a smile and wave. “I didn’t know you were here. We were just about to have breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”

“Oh, I…”

You were saved from having to make an excuse when Dean appeared next to Jack, his expression severe and cold all at the same time. “She’s got a hunt she’s heading out for. Possible vamp nest in Duluth. Right, Y/N?”

Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you even more, there he went proving you wrong. “Right,” you agreed quietly. You turned a wan smile onto Sam. “I’ll take a raincheck.”

“Duluth?” Sam glanced from his brother to you. “Maybe we can give you a hand on this one.”

“We can’t,” Dean stated firmly. He gave his brother a look and Sam’s brows furrowed before realization played upon his features and his jaw tightened. He turned apologetic hazel eyes onto you. “Donna’s up that way. If she needs a hand, she can call her,” Dean added.

You felt sick to your stomach. Obviously, you weren’t heading to Duluth or anywhere near Minnesota but the way he dismissed you so casually…the pain was overwhelming. The smile you kept on Sam turned into more of a grimace. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but I’m good. Like your brother said, I can call Donna if I need anything. Don’t worry. Thanks, though.” You squeezed his arm and then turned to make your way up the stairs.

“Best of luck,” Dean gruffed out. You turned to see pure ice staring back at you.

You pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart right there, from demanding why Dean had obviously only called you for sex and a pick-me-up when there plenty of women in Lebanon that could do that for him, from begging him to wake up and see you were right in front of him and that what you had was very much real before it was too late. Instead, you continued climbing the stairs.

“Keep us updated and give us a call if you need anything,” Sam called after you.

“Will do,” you forced out.

“Good luck,” Jack offered.

When you reached the top, you glanced once more at Dean. His expression hadn’t changed one bit. The green gaze staring back at you was cold, hard. You let out a huff and shook your head, turning to open the door and close it behind you. That had been the very last time you saw him.

After that, you went back to the motel you had been renting a room in, packed up, and headed across state lines. You ignored Dean’s calls but took Sam’s.

Apparently, at some point, you had vanished when Chuck disappeared everyone. You had no idea until Donna filled you in. That explained the several missed calls from both Sam and Dean and the voicemails they left. Both had sounded desperate, especially Dean.

“Please, Y/N. I know you’re pissed at me and I get it but please call me back. Or call Sam. I don’t care. Just as long as we know you’re still with us and that you’re okay.” His tone sounded rough around the edges but considering the context Sam gave you when you did call him (there was no way you were calling Dean, especially not now), you realized they were just desperate to get in touch with anyone, having lost Cas and being the only three forms of life left on the planet.

Dean was right, you were angry. Angry that he’d used you that night, angry that he’d broken your heart in the first place. He had pursued you before you got together, not the other way around. By the time you let your guard down enough to let him in and things kicked off between you, he was deep in. Or so he’d said. By the time he ended things, you were deep in yourself. Now…now you were in even deeper thanks to him, so deep you were pretty sure Dean would haunt you the rest of your life no matter how you tried to shut him out of your heart.

Another tear rolled down your cheek. Though, you’d never meant the word haunt literally.

You wiped your face with your sleeve and let out an aggravated breath before getting to your feet. You grabbed your coat, your emergency bag, your hunting bag, and the car keys from the table near the door. You locked up and got into the car you only used for hunts and grocery trips now, starting it and backing out of the driveway.

It’s not that you doubted what Sam had told you or Sam himself, but you needed to see things for yourself. You turned the car in the direction that would lead you to Kansas.

You opened the door to the Bunker, seeing nothing but darkness greeting you, the clanking of the door being the only sound to echo in the large chamber. That was strange. They never shut it down when they left for hunts. You hit the lights and hearing a loud thrumming sound, you watched as they came back on, one by one. You had your own key since you were also a Legacy. You’d never been more thankful for that fact when you arrived to find the Bunker locked down, no Sam in sight.

You shut the door behind you and dropped your bags near the table. You bit your lip to keep your eyes from welling up when you noticed an unfinished chess game on the table, most likely one that Dean and Cas had been engaged in, but now neither of them would be back to complete it. Instead, you focused on the matter at hand. You pulled your gun out and an angel blade, slipping the latter into your coat pocket in case you needed it. In the other pocket, you slipped a flask of holy water and a small piece of iron bar you could wield if need be. In your gun sat silver bullets; you couldn’t be too careful nowadays. Especially if the word was out to the world of the supernatural that Dean Winchester was gone and only Sam was left now, alone.

You slowly made your way down the stairs, listening intently for any other noises you might hear. All that you could make out besides your footsteps was the low hum of electricity that was commonplace for the old bunker. You cleared the library, the hallways, the kitchen, the shower room, the infirmary, the Dean Cave where you’d been forced to watch The Lost Boys and slasher films more times than you cared to count (you had dug your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying when you saw the DVD cover of Tombstone left near the TV), every single room in the place until you came to the one that made a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it back down and forced yourself to focus, raising your gun that much higher. You opened the door and hit the lights, scanning every which way. The room was clear.

You lowered your gun and made your way inside, the lump in your throat back again. Your eyes roamed over the hastily made bed; the empty dog bowls on the floor (which made your brows furrow in confusion slightly); the messy desk; the empty beer bottles on the table; the headphones on the nightstand; the shotguns on the wall; the books scattered about; the load of laundry sitting off to the right in a corner. Memories washed over you and your eyes began to sting as tears welled up.

You’d walked into the room to find Dean jamming out on his bed, listening to music through the headphones he’d insisted on buying on your last trip. You huffed out a laugh and dropped the laundry basket of folded clothes onto the bed, garnering his attention.

He opened his eyes and glanced up to find you smiling at him.

“What are you listening to?”

He held one of the phones away from his ear and you could hear some serious strumming of heavy metal guitar coming out of it. “Huh?”

“I said, what are you listening to?” You asked a little louder.

“What?” He nearly yelled.

You picked up the top item from your pile, his Scooby Doo underthings, and playfully tossed it at him. It landed squarely on his chest and he immediately jumped up as if it had burned him, his cheeks turning redder by the second as he threw the headphones onto the bed.

“You did my laundry?” He asked in horror.

Amazing. You two had explored every single inch of each other time and time again, been sort of rooming together for the past month, but he was embarrassed that you washed his dirty underwear?

You shrugged and began to place his folded clothes on the bed. “I had room in the washer so I figured I’d grab yours, too. You’re welcome.”

“You washed our clothes together?” He sounded genuinely surprised.

You gasped and gave him a mock look of horror. “Oh no, not together.” You tossed a pair of jeans over at him and he caught it in time. “I used detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, and everything,” you teased. “But putting it away is where I draw the line, pal. That’s on you.” You pointed to the neat pile sitting on the bed before moving over to the door to head to the room you kept your things in down the hall.

Arms wrapped around you from behind, stopping your trek, and Dean murmured into your ear, “You washed my clothes for me?”

“And folded, too,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”

“Mmm, what else can I get you to do for me?” He grabbed the basket from you and placed it down before gripping your hips and moving in to kiss your neck.

“Hey, I’m not your maid. I had room in the washer, that was it. Don’t get used to this,” you laughed before digging your teeth into your lip when you felt his tongue on a particular part of your skin.

“What if I want to get used to this?” He moved up to your jaw line.

“I’d say you’re SOL. Unless…”

“Unless?” He hummed near your lips.

“Unless you finally let me tidy up this room a little.”

His head shot up, frowning down at you. “What? Why, what’s wrong with how it is now?”

“Well,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Some of these papers on the desk need organizing, the books can be put in a stack on the table over there, these empty beer bottles can be thrown out, the shotguns you have near the bed can be put away…”

“There’s nothing wrong with anything you just mentioned,” he grumbled.

“Oh, really? So the other night when you were doing that thing—”

“That thing you really like,” he interrupted, smirking cockily at you.

You had to keep from rolling your eyes and smirking yourself. “When I moved, I knocked into the shotgun and it fell. It almost went off. You remember that?”

“Nothing happened or went off, well, except you.” His smirk got even bigger. “You remember that?”

This time you gently swatted at his shoulder. “Dean.”

He heard the warning in your no-nonsense tone and laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “Alright,” he whispered to your lips. “I’ll put the shotguns up out of the way. But everything else stays.”

You huffed out an exasperated breath. One of these days when he wasn’t looking, you swore you’d do as exactly as you’d suggested. Clear out the empty bottles and stack the books at the very least.

“Hey, it’s all about compromise, right? Speaking of that,” He turned you around in his arms and you were once again facing the laundry basket he’d left on the floor. “Find a space and keep some of ‘em in here.”

A pleasant shock ran through you. “Are you sure?” You whispered.

He slowly turned you back around and gently cupped your chin. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure. You’re practically sleeping in here every night, anyway. I’d rather you not have to put back on the same clothes from the night before or walk naked down to your room. Then again, naked…”

You glared up at him, making him chuckle and brush his lips against yours. “I just didn’t want to crowd you,” you admitted after a moment. “It’s your space. If I’m in here too much, I can—”

“I want you here.” You gazed into his green eyes, unsure, but all you saw staring back at you was softness with a glint of earnestness. He was telling you the truth; he really wanted you to stay.

“Okay,” you agreed with a shy smile.

He beamed at you and then picked you up, making you gasp loudly and wrap your legs around his waist. “Not that you’re gonna be needing them right now.”

You shook your head and kissed him as he walked you both towards the bed. When he had you on it, you could hear the music coming from the forgotten headphones. “Is that…Whitesnake?”

Dean smirked down at you. “Uh huh. One sec.” He reached over, quickly clicked something on his phone, and the music suddenly changed. You smiled when a familiar song started up.

“Really?”

“What? It’s our song.”

You framed his face with your hands, looking up at him affectionately. “Dean Winchester, secretly sentimental and sensitive guy extraordinaire,” you teased him.

“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I’m not any of that crap. It’s the first song we made good use of Baby’s backseat to, that’s all. Now that you’re staying in here, we gotta celebrate.”

Romantic. You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Like I said, sentimental.” You pulled him down to you and kissed him sweetly. Needless to say, he had been right; you hadn’t needed your clothes for a little while.

You took in a ragged breath, your fingers gently touching over the papers on his desk. While you hated the empty beer bottles and you didn’t want to end up possibly shot with a salt round during a passionate moment of sex, you really hadn’t minded how he had things. You knew this was the first home he and Sam ever really had. He could keep things messy or disorganized if he wanted to; he had more than earned the right. It might sound silly to someone else but he deserved to experience living in a home, mess and all, like everyone did at some point in their lives. Not only did he not have a place to do that since he’d been four years old, he’d never felt comfortably settled in anywhere ever to be able to do it. You remembered him and Sam telling you how long it had taken Dean to settle into this room, to think of the Bunker as not just theirs but home. You’d kick the crap out of anyone who tried to take that away from him, and you would be the last person to try to do it yourself. You still thanked him when he hung the shotguns up on the wall; you were beyond grateful. That time, he was the one who went off and quite happily.

A sob nearly tore its way out of your chest when you saw his handwriting on one of the papers. Your fingertips traced each letter. How could he really be gone?

You ran your fingers over an open file, wondering what he had been looking at, when you heard the clicking of nails on the floor behind you. You spun, lifting your gun, to find Sam standing in the doorway, watching you with wide eyes as a dog appeared beside him. That must have been what you’d heard. You lowered the gun and let out a relieved breath. “What are you doing here?”

You winced internally at your question. He had every right to be here, this was his home. You were the intruder.

“The monitoring system we set up… I was alerted that someone was in the Bunker. I locked it down and I know only he and I had the keys, so I didn’t know if…” You watched as he compulsively swallowed.

You turned back to the desk. “I get that. Where were you, by the way? Why did you lock it down?” He didn’t answer for a moment when you glanced over your shoulder at him, seeing his gaze glued to the ground. “Sam?”

His eyes flicked up to yours and he swallowed again. “I was on my way to Austin. For a case. But then…” He gestured towards you. “I turned around and headed back to see.” You noticed he didn’t mention why he had locked the Bunker down but then again, he didn’t really need to. Who else would be coming here now that Dean, Cas, and Jack were gone? Mary was gone as well as most of the other hunters you’d worked with over the past couple of years. Apocalypse World Bobby was still up in Minnesota somewhere. Apocalypse World Charlie and Stevie had moved East, choosing to retire after what happened with Chuck temporarily disappearing everyone. Garth and Bess still lived in their home with their family. Jody and the girls had their own operation up in Sioux Falls with Donna lending a hand every now and then. And you…well, you never told Sam where you were.

You gave him a slow nod and dropped your eyes back down to the desk, running your fingers over the pages of an open lore book Dean had been reading. It was probably ridiculous but you thought maybe you could somehow still feel him here (though you did not want him to be a ghost), that perhaps by touch or sight or smell even that you could somehow connect to what his last days had been like. You wondered if he somehow knew deep down or if he hadn’t seen it coming. Even though he had always told you that he didn’t see a good ending for himself down the road, that he was forever bound to this life, you knew he also secretly fantasized about his life going in a different direction, one he’d included you in once upon a time. You then wondered if there was a girl somewhere who was either waiting for a phone call she would never get or was crying her eyes out because Sam had given her the news like he had you. It hurt to think that maybe he had found someone that he envisioned another future with instead of you, with someone he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chuck hadn’t inserted into his life as a manipulation or a story device. Someone that he didn’t question what he had with them, if it was real. Though at the same time, you hoped he found a little piece of happiness. You still loved him enough to want that for him.

You briefly closed your eyes in pain when you remembered that last night you spent with him, telling him you loved him. You truly meant it and even though he hurt you again and again, you still did. You forced the thought away and instead chose to focus on the open book in front of you. “What was he working on?” You choked out, quietly clearing your throat once you heard how rough your voice sounded.

You turned the page, seeing mentions of witches and vampires, when you realized Sam never answered you. You glanced back at him, arching your brows in question.

Sam’s eyes were wide and laser focused on your body, his mouth hanging open. Shit.

You should’ve known that despite the dark clothing you were wearing, the long black coat you were sporting, turning away from him, that you wouldn’t be able to hide your secret much longer. Truthfully, it wasn’t even something you’d thought about when you set out for the bunker. Had Sam been here when you arrived, he probably would have seen it then.

You turned towards the younger Winchester and Sam’s eyes flickered up to you. “Are you…?”

“Yes, Sam.”

Sam closed his mouth and swallowed, glancing back and forth between you and your protruding belly. You read the clear question in his eyes that he was burning to ask.

“You’re going to be an uncle.”

Except the few times he’d been close to death, you’d never seen Sam look so pale.

You and Sam sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, Miracle (as you’d come to find out was the dog’s name) laid at your feet, his head on his paws.

“How?” Sam finally asked you.

You snorted in amusement. “You know how.”

“No, I mean… Why didn’t you tell Dean? Did you tell Dean? Because he didn’t tell me and I don’t think that’s something he wouldn’t have told me.”

You wet your lips with your tongue, feeling the heavy weight of guilt and sadness wrap around you once more. “No. I didn’t tell him,” you whispered. It was now the biggest regret of your life, right before the second biggest one of you walking out of the bunker the morning you’d last seen him and not fighting harder to get him to let you back in.

“Were you ever going to?”

Your eyes snapped to Sam at the judgment clear as day in his tone and they narrowed. “No, I wasn’t. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing more to do with me or anything related to me. So, no, Sam, I wasn’t,” you snapped.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at his lap.

You turned your gaze forward again, taking a breath to tamp down the familiar anger and resentment that you’d worked so hard to try to let go of. After a moment, you rubbed at your forehead. “Yes,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I think so…”

Sam stayed quiet and let you sort through your thoughts which you were grateful for. You’d been caught completely off guard by the pregnancy yourself. When you found out, you thought back to how you unwisely didn’t take your usual precautions and since you and Dean had broken up long before that, you hadn’t been too concerned with maintaining your birth control.

You’d thought over your options. Bringing a kid into the hunting lifestyle was the worst thing you could do to it. Dean and Sam were living proof. Their mom herself had known it which was why she tried to get out when she married their dad. Not to mention, it would make you vulnerable in your line of work and the kid would always be in danger, always have a target on its back. Plus, you were pretty sure that even if you told Dean, he’d be less than thrilled. He always told you he didn’t want kids, for the very reasons you were now facing. And did you really want to bring a kid into the world that Chuck was about to end, only to have a father who was dismissive of it, or even hated it? You didn’t think Dean would be capable, he’d been great with Jack and Ben after all, but this was different. This kid would have his blood, his genes, would look like him somewhat. Sure, he had that in Emma once and that had torn him up, but this would also be different. This was for the long haul. And that’s only if he even wanted to be in this kid’s life. Which he might opt not to. How could you do that to your child? So you considered choosing to end the pregnancy, which would have been a true mercy given everything stacked against it before it would be born, but eventually you decided otherwise.

You’d heard the baby’s heartbeat on a checkup while you were still mulling it over, and that was it. Dean wanted to know if what you had was real or not? Here it was, its little heart thumping away deep within your body. After that visit, you’d decided the hell with it. You were someone who believed everything happened for a reason, well before things with Chuck went bad though you still operated on this age-old belief most of the time. You were having a kid, one who would be half of you and half of Dean, the love of your life for all intents and purposes. Though it had hurt when he dismissed you that morning, perhaps this had been the reason why he called you out of the blue, wanting you to come to him, and why you went despite knowing what would most likely happen and how much pain it would cause you.

So you made a decision to start pulling out of hunting. Donna rented her family cabin in Hibbing to you. Bobby hadn’t been back since Mary died so it was sitting empty and unused. You hid the pregnancy as best you could but ultimately, once the first trimester was over and you had popped, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Donna found out though she never knew who the father was. She didn’t pry which you appreciated. When she called you to warn you that Billie was making people disappear left and right, a familiar fear clawed at your chest. Not only fear for your child but also the fear of what if Dean found out about it. That was the only thing that kept you from offering to come down to Kansas to help.

“We’re going into some place warded to protect us. You should do the same. I can send you pictures of the sigils they’re using.”

“Okay, thanks. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“Yeah, don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out. You just stay safe in the cabin. You and…well, you know.”

You appreciated her staying discreet when you heard Sam’s voice in the background. “I will. Thanks, D.”

“You betcha. Talk soon.”

You hung up and Donna did indeed send you the pictures. You did your best with what you had but it didn’t matter in the end. The last thing you remembered was painting a sigil on the window and then everything went black. The next thing you knew, you were back at the window, your finger extended towards the glass, the half-finished sigil staring back at you. You noticed the sun was in a different position in the sky than it had been and you immediately grabbed your cell phone. Two days had passed. How?

It hit you then what happened and you dropped the phone with a cry, immediately grabbing at your stomach. You ran for the machine Jody had shipped to you after Donna told her. At the time you’d been annoyed, but right now, you couldn’t be happier at the sheriff knowing about your pregnancy once your baby’s heartbeat echoed throughout the bedroom. You let out a huge sigh of relief, rubbing your belly affectionately. “We had quite a scare there, didn’t we, kiddo?”

It dawned on you then that while you had vanished, you were back, baby and all. Did that mean everyone else was back, too? You went back downstairs for your cell phone and immediately called Donna. Yep, everyone was back, they had all disappeared, and it wasn’t Billie but Chuck who had done it. You asked after Dean and Sam and that was when she told you about Cas and then Jack. You knew both brothers would be devastated, especially Dean, and you considered breaking your radio silence to call him. However, you chickened out at the last second and called Sam instead to check in.

It’s not that a part of you didn’t want to tell Dean he was going to be a father, it was that you were scared of what would happen when you did. Originally, you had feared that he would turn his back on you completely, more importantly on his kid, but now you were worried that maybe it would be the exact opposite. While you would be happy for him to be actively involved in your child’s life as its dad, you also knew Dean. He would try to resume things between you, make it work for the kid’s sake. Just look at how long he tried to make it work with Lisa for Ben’s sake. Not that he didn’t love her and he ended up leaving to protect them, but even Lisa knew his heart wasn’t in it. While that had been for different reasons involving hunting and Sam’s reappearance in his life, he still tried to make it work. But as he’d told you, the family thing didn’t work for him, and besides he already had a family with Sam, Cas, and Jack. You hadn’t missed how he didn’t include you in that group; you supposed you should’ve known then.

You didn’t want him to fake wanting to be with you just to give your kid some semblance of a family life that Dean himself hadn’t really had. You didn’t know if you could take him forcing himself to kiss you goodnight before turning his back on you every single night. Or forcing a smile when he’d come home after a long day and you were the first thing he saw when he stepped inside. It was a ridiculous fear to have, you knew that, and you should be stronger than this — you were stronger than this. Not to mention, you knew you were being selfish and not at all fair to your baby or Dean. But the images kept replaying over and over in your mind, making you flinch, and you told yourself you’d tell him the next day. The next day turned into next week, then the next month. Before you knew it, you were in your third trimester and you were getting a call from his younger brother to inform you of his untimely death.

Maybe that’s really why you raced down here from Hibbing. Maybe that’s why you wanted to see for yourself that he was gone. Not only to confirm that the man who had your heart was gone for good, but also so you could tell him, hoping he might hear it wherever he now was. Or maybe by some act of mercy Jack could relay it to him, wherever Jack was. It was cowardly, you were a coward, and you hated yourself for it. You knew you should have told Dean months ago, after you found out that he and Sam had beaten Chuck, Jack was in charge of the universe now, and the world was not coming to an end anytime soon. Regardless, you couldn’t turn back the clock.

A tear escaped that you quickly wiped away, not caring if Sam saw or not. “You know, when you first told me about Dean, I considered a demon deal.”

Sam’s head snapped up. “No! That’s not what he would want! No!”

You held out a placating hand. “I know. I’m not going to do that.” He seemed to deflate slightly in relief. “I can’t, anyway.” You motioned to your bulging stomach. “I couldn’t do that to my kid. Only be around for 10 years and then poof, I’m gone? Even if it had Dean, if Dean wanted it that is, it’s still terrible to do that to a kid.” You winced slightly when you realized you were saying this to Sam Winchester of all people.

“Dean would’ve wanted it,” he assured you quietly.

You grimaced and dropped your gaze down to the dog who was staring up at you. “Maybe.” You reached down to pet his head.

Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would’ve.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking over his words, when you murmured, “Is there any way to get him back?”

Sam let you go and his hazel eyes began to shimmer. “No,” he choked out. “I, uh, checked with Jack and he said it was his time. So…no.”

“What?” You snapped, getting to your feet. “After everything you’ve done for that kid? He just—”

Sam got to his feet, tenderly cradling your shoulders. “I know. I didn’t want to hear it either but…Jack’s right.” Your jaw dropped, ready to let some f-bombs fly (which you usually tried to avoid since the baby could now hear you), when Sam’s hands moved up to your face, trying to get you to listen. “He was ready to go. Jack confirmed it. Dean’s in Heaven and he’s at peace.”

Tears were on the edge of falling when you heard that. “He’s in Heaven?”

Sam nodded, a tear making its way down his cheek. “Yeah. He is.”

If Dean was in Heaven…well, then that was some consolation at least. Just when he thought he’d never make it there thanks to his being a demon for a short stint, being killed by a Hell Hound, and everything that had occurred over the years — even some of the things he’d done. But that also meant he was gone, for good this time. It was confirmed; he wasn’t coming back. It hit you like a freight train and it punched a huge hole in your chest. You felt as if you were falling, falling, and would never stop. Dean was…gone. “Then he’s…”

“He’s gone,” Sam confirmed. “He’s not coming back.”

Your knees buckled and you nearly fell, Sam thankfully having caught you. You heard a wailing sound but you had no idea where it was coming from until you felt it ripping its way out of your body. Sam gingerly picked you up in his arms and moved you onto the bed. You were violently sobbing and you barely noticed Sam holding you, gently rocking you back and forth, his own tears falling into your hair. Miracle had jumped up and laid next to you, whining quietly and trying to shove his head under your hands, rubbing his body carefully against your belly.

There was no way. No way that this was real. This had to be a nightmare. But when you heard Sam sniffle above you, choking out, “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, it’s going to be okay,” you knew that it wasn’t. Memories of Dean’s face, his laugh, his smiles, his touch, his scent, the way he looked at you when you’d both been happy together, his kisses, the way he felt like home in a way that no other person or place ever could, the way he made you feel safe — all of it smashed over you like a tidal wave and it didn’t let up. Dean Winchester, the man you’d loved with all of your heart, the man whose child you now carried inside of you, was gone. And there was nothing you could do to bring him back.

Dean had just pulled the Impala over at a beautiful spot, where you could see nature’s beauty for miles. He rested back against Baby and marveled at it all. There was even a double rainbow that showed up and Dean chuckled, knowing that had to be Jack’s doing considering there hadn’t been any rain. Then he wondered if it did rain at all. How did things like that work up here anyhow?

He was still enjoying the view when Jack popped in next to him.

“There he is.” Dean grinned and went to give him a hug before he thought better of it. “Am I still allowed to…you know?”

Jack smiled. “Of course. I like hugs.”

Dean laughed and embraced him tightly. “Thanks, kid. For everything you did up here, I mean. Bobby told me.” He pulled back, clapping his shoulder in thanks. “So, where’s Cas?”

“He’ll be along shortly but first, I need to show you something.”

Dean’s brows furrowed but he shrugged. “Okay.”

Jack placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and next thing Dean knew, he was back in his old room at the Bunker. “Whoa,” he whispered, thinking Jack and Cas had built the Bunker just for him. He would be able to wait for Sam here, in his home. He hoped the TV in the Dean Cave worked and that he still had access to his music. Baby’s radio had worked so he had high hopes. He was about to thank Jack when his eyes suddenly caught sight of someone in his bed. Well, two someones.

He glanced towards Jack who gave him a subtle nod, silently encouraging him to get closer. Dean shot him a confused look but did move closer. When he caught sight of you, his heart dropped into his stomach. Even being dead, he felt the same exact thing he felt the last time he had seen you. You were the one who got away, or more appropriately, the one he pushed away.

Sure, he’d been confused when he found out everything in his life was a lie when Chuck revealed himself to be a giant dick, but he did love you. He had such trouble reconciling the two: what he knew to be true and what his mind was telling him. No other romantic relationship had worked out for him, all two of them prior to you, and now he knew why. Chuck liked him better on his own, being the guy with no strings attached and rolling through town to save the girl, kill the monsters, get thanked, and move on his way. The only other person Chuck liked having in the Impala regularly was Sam. You, well, you he hadn’t seen coming and after the Big Bad Chuck reveal, he had to wonder why.

He had never meant to hurt you, though he couldn’t seem to stop from doing it. If things weren’t real between you all of this time, he didn’t want to keep pretending like they were. That wasn’t fair to either of you and he certainly didn’t want to continue stringing you along when his heart was no longer in it like it used to be. So he let you go, as painful as it was and as wrong as it felt, he did the right thing by you. Then that night he’d called you out of the blue, he’d been torn up about Cas’ revelations about Jack’s actual role in Billie’s plan, how badly he wanted Chuck gone, and how while he didn’t want to sacrifice the kid, he wanted his and Sam’s freedom more. Without thinking, he’d picked up the phone and dialed you. He shocked himself when he asked you to come over after hearing you weren’t that far away, and you shocked him even more when you agreed.

Dean hadn’t planned for you two to be intimate, but once you were there, right in front of him, it hit him hard how much he missed you, missed what you had together. So he made a move and you let him. He’d put everything he had, everything he felt but couldn’t tell you, into this stolen moment in time between you. And then the next morning, he thought it had all been a dream until he turned his head and saw you laying there, hair adorably disheveled, sheet covering you, doing something on your phone. It briefly reminded him of the many mornings he’d woken to find you in this exact same position, already up after a wild night, searching for cases. He wanted to bask in the comfort and familiarity for a moment longer, but when you turned and smiled at him, greeting him like you always had, he started kicking himself internally. He didn’t want you to think that this meant things would change when he knew they wouldn’t. He was being unfair to you and it wasn’t right. He’d been a selfish bastard and now he had to go into dick mode which would hurt you again. And sure enough, he knew he did when he saw your face fall as he easily dismissed you, not once but twice. He winced at the memory; he certainly didn’t blame you for not taking his calls or returning his voicemails after that.

The truth was that while he had initially been confused about his feelings for you and their validity, he knew he cared deeply about you and the most important thing was keeping you safe. He didn’t want you involved in the Chuck showdown, which is why he rudely dismissed you that morning, making up an excuse of a case in Duluth, something he knew you’d go along with. After watching you leave, as the door closed behind you, his heart fell into his stomach and he felt about three inches tall. He hated hurting you, hated pushing you away, but he knew it was for the best. You needed to be safe; not a target for Chuck.

After Chuck had been defeated and Jack took over, Dean realized in those months that he’d been a grade A idiot when it came to you. Sure, he’d been a cold dick, but he also had been a complete dumbass. He still loved you and he missed the hell out of you. What you had together had been something special that he stupidly threw away. There were quite a few nights after quite a few drinks, he’d picked up his phone and hovered over your number but he never actually called it. How could he even think of asking you to forgive him and give him another chance? After everything he’d said and done? He truly was a selfish bastard.

When he didn’t call, he then switched over to all of the photos and videos he had taken of you and both of you together. As he heard your laughter, saw both of your smiles, watched how you looked at him and the affection you’d shown him, he continued drowning his sorrows. He wanted so much to talk to you, to apologize and explain, and ask if he could come see you, but he never let himself ask. He didn’t deserve it; he knew that.

Now, here you were, asleep on his bed, Miracle curled up next to you. Staring down at you, he wondered how the hell he had ever let you go. And now, he’d never get to hold you again, feel your touch, or even share a conversation with you ever again. Even though Dean was at peace with his fate, regret languished within his chest the more he studied your face. He reached out to brush some hair back over your face but sadness overwhelmed him when he realized he couldn’t even do that small simple touch. Not anymore.

Dean’s eyes narrowed when he noticed an arm curled around you, almost protectively, pinning you to another body. His gaze traveled up that arm to find his younger brother, asleep right behind you. That surprised him but he quickly put two and two together. You must have gone to the Bunker when Sam called you to tell you the news and here you were, in Dean’s room, asleep on his bed with his dog. And while he didn’t begrudge you or his little brother some comfort you both might need, he didn’t like the look of that embrace or that Sam’s face was buried into the back of your neck.

Dean glanced back down at the arm, seeing Miracle staring right up at him. He couldn’t help but smile at the canine who had been his companion for months before he died. “Hey, boy,” he whispered, not sure if he would be heard or not but not wanting to startle you if he was. “How are you?”

Miracle didn’t seem to react at first, not until he got up and moved closer, wagging his tail. Dean went to try to pet the dog, hoping he could at least touch the animal, but he never got that far. His eyes zeroed in on just what Miracle’s body had been blocking.

His wide eyes flicked up to you, to Sam, back to you, and back to your fairly large and round stomach. The hell with being heard and possibly scaring you two. He glanced back to find Jack watching him. “What the hell is going on here, Jack?”

“They’re sleeping.”

“I’m aware of that,” he growled. “But what—”

Just then, Cas popped in next to Jack. When the angel saw Dean, he offered a soft smile. Dean felt himself relax slightly and a part of him wanted to go hug the angel but another part of him was nervous to. Plus, he really wanted to know what the hell was going on. He shifted his eyes towards Jack, his jaw tightening. “What the hell are you showing me?”

Cas glanced towards the bed, realization lighting his features, before he turned to Jack as well.

“The present,” Jack simply answered.

Dean cursed under his breath, not caring that both Cas and Jack could hear him. “The present of what? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like some time has passed.” He gestured towards your stomach. He tried not to be angry with you or Sammy, he really did, but dammit, his brother knew how he felt about you! Him dying didn’t change that! Besides, Sam had something going with Eileen last he knew, whatever happened to that?

“What you’re seeing is a few days after your death.”

Surprise ran through Dean at that revelation. So, this wasn’t some screwed up future scene he was witnessing? His eyes roamed over you, coming to rest once again on your stomach. You were very pregnant, looking as if you might be ready to pop any day now, he wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear; there was no way the baby was Sam’s. Sam wouldn’t have been able to keep that secret from him that long and he just didn’t see you or Sam going behind his back like that while he was alive. You were pissed at him, maybe even hated him, but you would never do that to him. Nor would Sam. The only answer was that you had found someone else and you were starting a family with them. Now he understood your radio silence even more. You might currently be sad at the news of his death, awash in memories in his room to where you’d fallen asleep on his bed and Sam had to comfort you, but you had truly moved on. That burned him even more. While he was happy if you were happy, knowing you’d found someone who wouldn’t break your heart and would treat you better than he ever could, a part of him was saddened by this knowledge. He knew you were too good for him, that you deserved better, but to see it confirmed in such a way, well, it was heartbreaking.

“So if she’s… Then she’s…” He couldn’t even put it into words; it hurt too much.

Jack clasped Dean’s shoulder. “The child is yours, Dean.”

Dean wasn’t alive anymore but if he had been, his heart would have stopped. He turned to Jack, shocked. “What?”

“You’re going to be a father,” Jack supplied, letting him go.

“But…how?” Dean’s gaze fell on you once more.

Cas suddenly appeared on his other side. “You don’t remember how you conceived the child?”

“What? No, I just…”

“Dean,” Jack called.

When he turned to look at the new God, the latter held up a glowing finger to him that almost reminded him of that movie E.T. “What are you gonna do with that? Check my temperature?” Speaking of E.T., hadn’t that been one of the last movies picked for movie night before the Chuck showdown?

Jack smiled and touched the finger to his forehead. Within seconds, Dean was reliving every single moment between you two:

…When you’d met.

…When he decided he’d liked you while you decided you didn’t like him too much.

…His constant flirting and trying to win you over.

…Your begrudging friendship that then grew into something more.

…Your relationship.

…Your breakup.

…All of the times you’d been in pain because of him.

…That last night.

…The next morning.

Then the memories shifted to yours from after that morning:

…You finding out about the pregnancy a couple of months later.

…Your hemming and hawing over calling him to tell him.

…Your fears.

…When you’d vanished with everyone else.

…Your panic upon your reappearance.

…The time you spent getting ready to retire from hunting and set up a normal life in Hibbing while preparing for the baby.

…The call from Sam with the news of his death.

…Your regret at not telling him about his child and your drive down here.

…Your conversation with Sam.

…Your collapsing in grief at finally realizing that he was gone and not coming back.

All of it that led to the scene he was witnessing now. He felt everything you felt, heard every thought, saw every tear, every smile.

By the time Jack pulled away, Dean’s eyes were wet. He wasn’t sure how he was able to produce tears as a dead man but he did. Not only did he feel how deeply he’d hurt you, but he also felt just how deeply you loved him. He already knew he’d been an idiot when it came to you, but he really had no clue before this just how incredibly stupid he’d been. It had always been real between you. That hadn’t been Chuck. Not by a long shot.

Dean discreetly wiped his eyes. “Send me back.” His tone was firm and he wasn’t really asking.

“I’m sorry, Dean, but your time on Earth is up.”

Dean turned a menacing glare onto Jack. New God or not, he didn’t care. “She’s having my kid and she needs me. They both need me. Sam, too. After everything I’ve done for this world, you owe me.” Jack stared him down, unbothered by the taller man’s attempt to make demands. “Now I appreciate the Fixer Upper: Heaven Edition, I really do, but I should be with them. I deserve a shot at this and you know it.”

Jack mused on that for a moment before staring up at Dean sadly. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”

Dean scoffed. “Then why bother showing me any of this? Why bother telling me that it’s my kid she’s about to have? What’s the point, dammit?”

“You were afraid that you had left nothing behind of value, except Sam and your beloved car. Afraid that your life hadn’t amounted to anything in the end. No matter how many people you saved, no matter how many connections you made, no matter what good you did. ” Jack gestured towards you. “It did amount to something. You are leaving behind something, something important. A legacy,” Jack gestured to your stomach. “A family,” he waved his hand over you and Sam.

Dean’s jaw clenched and he ignored the stinging in the corner of his eyes. “So this was just to show me what I can never have. The girl, the kid, the life…that’s just aces,” he muttered.

“No, Dean,” Cas spoke up. “What Jack is trying to explain is—”

“--your life amounted to more than you thought it had,” Jack finished.

Dean watched as Miracle went back and curled up against your belly once more, his head on his paws as he watched the scene in front of him. The corner of Dean’s lips tipped up into a smile. It was almost as if the dog knew it was his kid in there. And he was determined to protect it in Dean’s absence. His smile faded though when he thought of how he wouldn’t be able to see his kid, at all. He’d had enough of this. “That’s great. Appreciate the pep talk, fellas. Now, if you could send me back so I can actually raise my legacy and take care of my family, that’d be much appreciated.”

Jack and Cas exchanged a glance. Dean knew he wasn’t winning this one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying. “It’s not your time yet,” Jack answered cryptically.

Dean’s head snapped in his direction. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means that now your time is in Heaven, not Earth. And it’s best if you return to it.” Before Jack could snap his fingers, Dean held up a hand.

“Whoa, wait! That’s it? You’re not even gonna let me stick around to see what I’m gonna have?”

Jack smiled once more. “You’re going to have a son. A strong, healthy son.”

Dean reeled from that information. “A son?” He choked out.

Jack gave him a happy nod and held his fingers up again.

“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Jack. Why can’t I stick around?”

“You know what happens to ghosts, Dean. Besides, you’ve already been admitted to Heaven.”

“But you can do something about that, right? Like bring me back?” When Jack didn’t respond, Dean became desperate. “At least let me check in on them every now and then or something! You’re telling me you can’t even do that? You’re freaking God!”

Jack’s smile faded. “You’re not an angel, Dean.”

“No,” Cas interrupted. “But I am.” Cas stretched out his wings that were a lot brighter than Dean remembered. If he wasn’t dead, he was pretty sure he would at they very least be blinded from the brightness right about now. “I can take him back when he’s ready and I can escort him on any future visits.”

Dean was shocked but also beyond grateful at Cas’ offer. While they hadn’t spoken yet about how things were left between them before The Empty took away the angel, he couldn’t imagine it would be easy for Cas to watch as he pined over someone else, as he watched his kid grow, but Dean was grateful all the same.

Jack appeared to think this over before meeting Cas’ intent gaze. “You will make sure to bring him back each time.” At Cas’ nod, Jack gave him a knowing yet affectionate smile. “I expect you to keep to the rules during these visits.”

“Of course,” Cas agreed.

Jack then glanced over at Dean. “If you’re worried about her and your child, you don’t need to be. Sam is going to watch over them.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly and his head snapped in your direction, his eyes shifting to Sam’s arm around you.

“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded.

“It means that your family is going to be safe. They’re going to stick together. Sam is going to help Y/N raise your son. He won’t allow any harm to come to them.”

His jaw tightened, thinking it should be his arm over you, him behind you, him helping you raise your kid, you two together. He should be the one to take his son fishing, teach him about girls when he got older, show him how to keep Baby going, be the father his old man had the potential to be but minus a few things. He’d do whatever it took to keep the kid out of hunting, to give him a shot at a full happy life. He’d give up hunting himself in order to make it happen. And you…if you’d take him back, he’d never leave your side. Hell, he’d marry you if you let him. After Jack had caught him up to speed on everything you went through, everything you had felt and were feeling, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, letting you know every single day just how much he loved you, if only you’d let him. If only Jack would allow him to come back. It felt beyond wrong that he wasn’t there and Sam was stepping into his place. Sam shouldn’t have to; he should be able to go and build his own family with Eileen or whoever, get married, have a couple of kids, buy a house, get out of hunting and go back to school — do whatever he wanted with his life. Not this.

“Dean.”

His eyes slowly lifted to Jack’s, who was a lot closer now than he had been before. He laid a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s as it should be. After you died, Sam was lost. She’s going to need help when the child is born.” He stared at Dean meaningfully. “They all need this.”

Dean’s gaze briefly roamed over the three of you on the bed before landing on Jack again. He thought back to his cryptic words from before. “Will I ever meet my kid? Get to see her again? Outside of Heaven?”

Jack’s expression didn’t change nor did he say anything but he squeezed his shoulder. That was the only response Dean was going to get apparently.

Dean huffed a snort and shook his head.

“I told you, Dean. There would be no more meddling with the world from on high. I will not repeat Chuck’s mistakes. Everything is as it should be.”

Dean’s jaw clenched and he dropped his gaze. No, everything wasn’t as it should be. He made up his mind then to talk to Bobby when he got back. There had to be something he could do to get back to Earth, to get back to you and Sam and the baby…to get back to you all. If he couldn’t convince Jack to send him back, he’d find some other way.

Jack released him as Cas came to stand next to Dean. “I’ll see you back in Heaven.” He then looked at Cas. “Not too long.”

Cas gave him a nod and like that, Jack disappeared, leaving the angel and the hunter alone. Dean wasn’t thinking about how that might have set them up to talk about Cas’ last words to him before dying; right now, his focus was on you.

“Cas, please…can I touch her?”

“Dean…”

“Please,” he begged. “Just one last time. I’m not gonna get to be with her or raise my kid. I just want to touch her one last time. Please, Cas.”

Cas thought it over and then moved closer to the bed, leaning down to place two fingers against your forehead. Dean’s brows furrowed when he noticed a golden glow appear from the touch. “Whoa, whoa, Cas. What are you doing?”

“I’m giving you what you asked for. Y/N’s a light sleeper, like all of you hunters. If she wakes up, she could think she’s being attacked by a ghost or some other entity. I doubt you want that.” He pulled away and gave Dean a look.

“No,” Dean quietly agreed. Cas moved away to make room to let him in. Dean gingerly sat on the bed, about to touch you when he glanced up at the angel, unsure. Cas gave him a nod and Dean turned to gently run the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He felt your warm and soft skin this time when he came into contact with you and he let out a small breath of relief, sadness filling his chest.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Had I known, I would’ve…” He supposed it didn’t really matter what he would’ve done. “I should’ve been there. You shouldn’t have had to go through all this alone. I should be there with you now, ready to help you take care of the kid. I…” He tenderly moved your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to keep you safe. I didn’t want you to become a target for Chuck. And I never should’ve…” He could feel a familiar stinging at the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t surprised that his voice was a bit gruffer when he next spoke. “I knew what we had was real. I know I questioned it for a second there but I always knew. That’s why it was so important to me that you were safe. But it doesn’t make what I did and said okay. And I’m sorry for that.” He ran his fingers lightly over your lips, wishing he could kiss you one last time, feeling you kissing him back. “I love you,” he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek that he hastily wiped away. He stroked the apple of your cheek tenderly with his thumb. “And I always will.”

Not really wanting to pull away from you but knowing he was on a time clock, he reluctantly moved his fingers away from your face and laid his hand on your belly. He couldn’t feel anything except the taut skin underneath his fingertips, but it was enough to make him smile. “Being that you’re my kid, you’re probably going to give your mom a run for her money. Try not to make her too crazy, huh?” He let out a watery sounding laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t be there but your Uncle Sammy is going to make sure you and your mom are taken care of. Okay? He’s going to show you how to toss a ball around, help you with your homework, all that stuff. Just do me a favor, though. Don’t let him feed you kale the whole time and don’t let him get you into his true crime podcasts. The guy is a classic nerd, don’t let him turn you into one, too.” His smile slowly faded. “Saying all that, he’s one of the best guys I've ever known and I know he’ll be good to you, be good to your mom. So cut him some slack when you get older, alright?” He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles. “Take care of your mom for me. I’ll be watching over both of you. I hope I get to meet you someday.” Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach before sitting up and coming face to face with Miracle. The dog quietly whined and Dean gave him one last good head scratch. “You look out for them, okay buddy?” The dog whined again and Dean patted him.

“Dean,” Cas gently called.

Dean nodded and slowly got to his feet. His eyes shifted to Sam who was sound asleep, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks for taking care of them, Sammy,” he whispered. He didn’t vocalize that it was only temporary, that he was hell bent and determined to find a way to get back. His eyes then landed on you and he reached out to you one last time, trailing a fingertip along the dried tear tracks on your cheek. “Cas, can we just stay until they wake up?”

“Dean, Jack said—”

“I know what Jack said,” Dean snapped, glancing back at the angel whose parted lips pressed into a thin line. Dean immediately felt sorry for snapping at him; it wasn’t Cas’ fault and he wasn’t angry with him. He softened his tone. “I just want to be here when she wakes up. That’s all.” Cas seemed to be wrestling with his request. “Please, Cas,” he begged. “I just want to see her like this, awake.” He was slightly embarrassed at admitting that to his best friend but he wasn’t sure when he’d be allowed to visit again (and what he might be able to figure out to get himself back or how long it would take), and he had the strongest urge to see you up and about, walking around, pregnant with his kid. Not to mention he wanted to hear your voice one last time. “Please,” he whispered in a broken plea.

Cas stared at him for a moment before giving him a nod. “But after she wakes, we go back.”

“Thank you, Cas.” He meant it. While he highly doubted Cas would get into any real trouble on his behalf, he knew how difficult it must be for the angel to unwillingly push against Jack’s rules. Dean turned back to you, carefully sitting down next to you, caressing your face. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. He also made you a silent promise: he would do whatever it took to get back to you. His eyes briefly roamed to your stomach. To get back to both of you. Fate and the universe and all that crap be damned.

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only-goose · 1 month

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Need some help?

A/N: first Dean fic!!

Synopsis: It’s your first time sleeping in Deans bed, you find out that morning wood does exist and are more than happy to help.

Warnings: Smut, morning wood, p in v (always wrap!)

You and Dean had fucked many times, but you never ended up falling asleep in the same bed, until last night that is. Last night was the first time that Dean refused to let you go, insisting you stay in his bed and really, who could resist him? Certainly not you.

You’d heard about morning wood, but you didn’t really know if it was a ‘thing’ or not. That was, until you woke up the next morning and felt Dean’s rock solid dick pressing into your ass. You looked over your shoulder to see Dean still asleep, confirming your suspicions on morning wood.

You decided you were going to be nice and help him out a little. You managed to kick off your underwear and roll him onto his back without waking him. You gently pulled his boxers down to his thighs, gently running your hand over his length. You lifted yourself above him and sank down, slowly working yourself to take him fully. He certainly had nothing to compensate for.

You slowly began rocking your hips, getting used to the sheer size of him. You lifted yourself up, and sunk yourself down, still not tying to wake him up. He grunted in his sleep, bucking his hips up. You kept going, bouncing up and down while Deans grunts turned into moans, which turned into a gasp when his eyes flew open.

“Morning handsome” you said as you slowed down, settling for grinding your hips against his while he registered what was happening. “Hey gorgeous, whaddya doin’?” His hands gripped your hips, shallowly thrusting up when you replied, “I thought I would help you out with your not so little problem.” Dean chuckled darkly “always such a good girl, aren’t you princess” you whimpered as the dirty words began to pour out of his mouth. He turned you over, so your back was against the mattress and started pounding the life outta you.

You never knew anyone could have this much energy in the morning. “De-Dean m’close” you whispered, too overtaken with please to say anything else. Dean lifted your left leg onto his shoulder, plunging deeper than you thought possible, “Let go princess, I got you” he coaxed. You dragged your nails up his back, gripping tightly at the roots of his hair as you opened your mouth in a silent scream.

Dean kept pumping in and out of you, helping you ride out your high. “Ah ah sensitive!” You gasped, Dean kept going, harder and faster. “I’m so fucking close baby, so close” he grunted. He let out a deep moan as he came, filling up your velvet walls. His orgasm was enough to bring on a second one for you, you arched your back as you screamed his name.

Dean gently pulled out, collapsing next to you. Bringing you in to his chest, “That was one hell of a wake up call babygirl” he said as he kissed your forehead. You chuckled as you leaned up to kiss his lips “you’re welcome”

A/N: Requests are open! 🫶🏻

#dean winchester #boyfriend dean #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester smut #dean winchester imagine #dean x female!reader #supernatural x reader #spn smut #spn

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whimsyfinny · 3 months

Text

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 668

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

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I’m Not Your F*ckng Maid

-Prologue-

Dean was awoken with a slam inches from his face and he sprung to life, almost losing his balance before he realised where he was. He’d fallen asleep at the table with his face in a book and surrounded by heaps of paper - many of which he hadn’t even started to read through yet. Blinking awake and gaining his bearings, he heard a familiar voice ring through the room.

”You boys are disgusting, how do you live like this?” The older Winchester finally looked up to see Charlie lifting a plate of half eaten, day-old pizza whilst kicking several beer bottles aside so she could pull out a chair and take a seat next to Dean, who was pinching the bridge of his nose.

”Yeah well, we’ve been a little busy recently if you haven’t noticed,” his voice was gravelly from the sleep. Charlie put down the plate of old food and sat down, worry crossing her face as she looked at the man next to her. She knew they’d been under a lot of pressure lately with their work, so much so that the brothers were starting to neglect themselves. It had been months since they’d eaten proper food that wasn’t instant or take-out, they rarely went outside, always locking themselves away in the bunker to do research and the bunker itself was getting cluttered with bin bags and pizza boxes. Not to mention the piles of laundry that she’s noticed slowly starting to form its own ecosystem in the washroom.

“Yeah I get that, but you really have to look after yourselves. When was the last time you ate a vegetable?”

Dean scoffed.

“Yesterday, obviously,” he gave her a look like she was from another planet, and she rolled her eyes.

“The pizza sauce doesn’t count, Dean.”

He looked puzzled, raising an eyebrow, “Why not?”

Before she could even humour him with an answer, Sam emerged, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh hey Charlie, when did you get here?” His voice was equally as gravelly as Deans, so she assumed he’d also just woken up.

“Five minutes ago.”

“She called us disgusting Sam. And she said the sauce on pizza isn’t made from vegetables,” Dean gestured to Charlie like she was the fool as he looked up at his younger brother who now stood across from him on the other side of the table. Sam went to open his mouth to respond, but closed it again quickly and furrowed his brows, clearly unsure how to reply to his older brother without opening a can of worms. Charlie huffed.

“You guys need to sort yourself out. I only dropped by because I hadn’t heard from you for a while and thought you might’ve worked yourself to death. I can’t stay long because I’m meeting a friend for a drink. She’s already at the diner waiting for me”

“A friend?” Dean wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and the redhead smirked.

“I wish, sadly she’s into dudes,” she paused, a thought crossing her mind, “Come to think of it, she’s actually looking for work, you guys might be able to help.”

Dean and Sam shared a glance.

“She’s a hunter?” Sam asked.

“Not exactly. Her uncle was, so she knows about stuff, but from what I know she was just a research girlie,” Charlie peered at the mess of papers on the table, “and it looks like you could use the help.” She looked between the brothers as they stared at each other, like they were having some sort of unspoken conversation. A few moments passed before Dean slapped his hand on the table and stood up.

“Sure ok, but we’re coming with you today to meet her,” he went to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, an eagerness in his movements before Charlie put her hand out to stop him.

“Great!” She grinned, before raising her eyebrows and pointing to them both, “but first you guys have got to shower, because I can taste your BO from here.”

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Up Next

Chapter 1

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #Dean Winchester x reader smut #Dean Winchester x you smut #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader #dean winchester smut

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literallylexa · 2 months

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Dean x Reader: SMUT

“Stopping the Hunt”

Prompt: Dean shows up every time you finally “get over him.” Sam goes to hell and Dean comes to you for refuge. However, you already have a boyfriend. Dean gets jealous and you get angry.

Warning: angst, smut, depression, Dean being jealous

Dean’s arms just do something to me

💜•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••💜

The hunting life never has been your thing. Ever since you were one of the victims of a vampire attack, you’ve kept an eye out for the supernatural. That’s how you met Dean Winchester. He was everything you wanted in a man. Protective, strong, caring, he’d do anything for you or his brother Sam. However, you knew that you could never have a relationship with Dean, just due to how his life is. He’s always on the road and put into dangerous situations. He’s nothing but a phone call and a fuck buddy every now and then. You always wanted more though. He was irresistible. Little did you know, Dean felt the same way.

You’ve moved on from Dean Winchester though, you think to yourself. Sometimes..well all the time you think about him. Sometimes romantically, sometimes not. After you started dating your current boyfriend, Edward, you decided it was time to move on from Dean. You’d never be able to have a relationship with that man. Never more than just an occasional booty call.

Tonight is date night. You shouldn’t be thinking about Dean Winchester anyways. You’re going out to have fun!

-I’ll be there in 10

Edward- Okay, I’m at the bar meet me there. Usual spot

You sigh and look into the mirror while fixing your hair. Today you decided to have it down, natural. You glance over your body, making sure the little black dress doesn’t have any stains on it. You decided to wear makeup tonight, wispy lashes, eyeliner, and some faint red glossy lipstick. You pucker your lips together, checking for any cracks and then reapplying some more. You rub your lips together making sure they’re covered. You take one more look at yourself before you grab your heels and purse.

The nightlife was always fun. You always like to try a new drink everytime you go, you’re very adventurous. On the day to day life your more to yourself, but once the alcohol comes out you’re very extroverted. Making new friends, meeting new people, dancing and singing the night away. Sometimes a drink fixes your worries, washing them away as the night goes on. Washes away Dean, all the supernatural shit you’ve seen, all their deaths. If you could take it all back, you would. You never wanted to be a hunter, you never wanted to know about the supernatural. You’ve never wanted to meet Dean.

As the night goes on the more progressively drunk you get. Heels come off, and no fucks are given. You grind against Edward in the bar, dancing along with some friends who stopped by. Edward grabs your hips, swaying them side to side against his cock. Maybe other things were taken that night other then alcohol, but it sure as hell felt amazing.

The night always ends in your bed, skin slapping and moans fill the air. Sheets on the mattress had lifted up and pillows fallen off the bed.

The morning always ends the same too. Alone.

You look over next to you in bed and Edward has already left. He never stays around anyways. Life sometimes gets lonely. Your parents aren’t around anymore, few friends live in the same state as you. Before Edward you were hanging out with random girls at the club and bringing home one night stands. Going to work, eating, drinking, fucking, then sleeping. Sometimes you’d occasionally look at a case online, send it to some hunters and go on about your business. People like you..who know what’s out there aren’t meant for happy endings.

You finally get out of bed. Sliding into some ugg slippers and long tee shirt with nothing underneath. You head over to the kitchen and begin to brew some coffee when a knock at your door gets your attention. Heart pounding you head over to the door. You look out your peep hole and gasp. Before you open the door you go to your pantry and grab some holy water along with a silver knife. With shaky hands you unlock the door and open it. Immediately you throw the holy water and cut the person.

“(Y/N)!” Dean yells out, “I’m not a damn demon. Or a shapeshifter. It’s me!”

“Dean what the fuck are you doing here?” You demand. Last time your encounter didn’t go well with him. You were stupid enough to tell him how you felt and he left the next morning. Typical.

“It’s a lot but I promise to explain if you let me in.” Dean says, hope glistening in his eyes.

You could never resist him. As much as you wanted to you couldn’t. “Fine. I’m making coffee. Sit your ass down and tell me what the fuck happened.”

Dean smiles and sits down at the dining room table. “Same as I remembered it. A little updated though. Looks good.” Dean looks around your house.

“Where’s Sam?” You ask Dean, setting down a cup of coffee in front of him. Dean immediately takes a sip, groaning as he swallows, “So good (Y/N).” Dean groans, “I’ve been all over the country but they never make coffee like yours.”

You laugh to yourself. It’s nice for someone to appreciate you once in a while. Even if it’s Dean doing the appreciating. “I let you in so now you have to tell me what’s going on. What did you and Sam get yourselfs into now?”

Dean takes another sip and sets the mug down, his demeanor changing. He begins to tell you the story about letting Lucifer about the cage, Lilith, Sam being Lucifer’s vessel. “Sam is in hell, (Y/N)..with the devil himself.”

You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. “Oh my god-goodness Dean.” You correct yourself. Maybe God shouldn’t be mentioned in this senerio. “Whats the plan to get him back?”

“There’s no plan.” Dean says looking down.

“Where do you plan on staying?”

“I have Baby.”

“Dean…” You say, placing a hand on his broad shoulder. “Why don’t you just stay with me for a little. I have a comfortable couch, Baby has a parking spot.” You smile down at him. You could have sworn that his emerald eyes were tearing up. Before you could look at him better, Dean turns his head away, wiping his face. “So what’s going on with you?” Dean asks. You weren’t going to admit you already had a boyfriend just yet. “Oh just the same old shit.” You chuckle, looking around nervously.

“Don’t tell me you’ve met someone?” Dean says, “I can tell when you’re lying.”

“Ok yeah I met somebody. But it’s no big deal.” You say.

Dean seemed almost irritated when you admitting to it. “I shouldn’t stay.”

“Dean, no I insist.” You plead. As much as your and Dean’s relationship is strained, you never want to see him hurt. “How about we get some breakfast?” You ask, trying to change the conversation. Dean thinks for a moment but ultimately said yes.

•••

After breakfast with Dean, everything was back to what it was. Laughing, flirting a little bit, telling stories. Sam wasn’t mentioned during that conversation though. You know Dean will bring it up when he wants to.

“Please make yourself comfortable.” You tell Dean. “And let’s have you take a shower huh?” You squeeze your nose in between your fingers and Dean pushes ur arm jokingly. Dean brings his belongings out of the impala, just two duffle bags and some guns.

“We can buy you a little dresser so you can put all your shit in. Sorry I don’t have another room for you.” You say to Dean as he begins to walk up the stairs.

“No (Y/N), you’ve already done a lot. No need to worry about that…well maybe I could use some soap. I don’t want to smell like flowers and rainbows.” Dean laughs.

“It’s mixed berry, asshole!” You yell at him going up the stairs.

Moments later you hear the water turn on. You smile to yourself. Dean Winchester living in your house. You began to imagine yourself with him, but those thoughts are quickly wiped away when your phone buzzes. Edward. Right. You’re dating Edward, you have been dating Edward for the last couple months. Edward is normal. Edward has a future for himself. A stable job, family, friends, a home. Edward is good for you. You sigh out loud, frustrated with yourself thinking about Dean. Dean will eventually leave anyways. Unless he’s done hunting. But he won’t ever stop hunting. Your mind races back and forth. You decide to answer your phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey baby. The bar is having some event tonight, rock and roll music and shit. Want to come? Just meet me there.” Edward says.

“Oh sure. I’ll be there tonight.” You say and end the phone call. Fuck. Maybe you can just leave Dean here and go out.

You decide to clean up to distract yourself from thinking about the two men. You hear the stairs creek as Dean comes downstairs. You turn around and look at him. The sight of him made you breathless. Combed, wet hair dripping onto his tight grey shirt. He’s not wearing a flannel, so his large muscular arms are showing, veins going down them to his hands. His jeans fitting him perfectly, you could see every inch of him. Your eyes wander to his groin area, slightly seeing a bulge through the jeans. For once you don’t see him wearing shoes but only white socks.

“I definitely used up all your hot water.” Dean laughs, running a towel through his hair to dry it.

“What a gentleman.” You say to him. Guess you’ll have to wait to take a shower too.

“If you would have joined me you could have had some hot water too.” Dean winks at you.

“Uh huh in your dreams.” (Or maybe yours) “Soo..” You begin to say, “Tonight at the bar they have a rock and roll night. Want to join? Get some drinks, meet some girls?” You say.

Dean thinks for a moment before saying yes. “Is your little boyfriend going to be there?”

“Yeah he is, but he won’t be a bother. He usually talks to his friends anyways.” You say.

The rest of the afternoon is going great. You do some errands with Dean and Baby of course. It was nice not to drive all the time. It felt nice having Dean drive you around, taking you wherever you wanted. You get some burgers for a quick lunch and head back home. Dean turns on the TV while you put away the groceries and clean up around the house. Dean walks over to the porch and looks at to your backyard. “You need to cut the grass. Do you have a lawnmower?” Dean asks.

“I usually just pay somebody to do it. Clearly it’s been neglected.” You say, standing out on the porch with him. Your yard was fenced in, perfect for a dog.

“Guess I’ll just have to do it tomorrow.” Dean says.

A warm feeling goes through your body as Dean says that. You could imagine him cutting the grass, getting all sweaty and you throw him a beer. When he comes inside you make him some food and make love in the shower after-

“If you do that I’m going to pay you.” You say to Dean quickly.

“You’re already letting me live here. That’s the least I can do for you (Y/N).” Dean looks down at you. The sun shines on his skin perfectly, making it golden. His green eyes have little bits of yellow and blue in the suns rays. You notice Dean looking at your lips, traveling down to your collarbone, and down to your breasts. You get embarrassed from him looking. He’s already seen you naked before, many times. Dean licks his lips as he looks back up into your eyes.

“I’m going to get dressed.” You leave him there on the porch. You run back up to your room and shut the room quickly. Your heart races. You cannot get involved with Dean again, at least romantically. He will leave. He always does. Tears begin to form in your eyes but you wipe them away quickly. Maybe you did love Dean, but you could never admit that- not even to yourself. If you did you’d just get hurt.

You put on some makeup once again. Wispy lashes, eye liner, lip gloss, highlighter and blush. You put on a small dress again, with some heels. As you begin to walk down the stairs you get nervous about Dean seeing you. “Are you ready to go Dean?” You yell out as you walk down the stairs.

“Yeah I’m-“ Dean stops in his tracks, mouth wide. You could have sworn to see his bulge grow through his pants. “Goddamn (Y/N).” Dean practically drools. He eye fucks you with his green eyes, not missing a single inch of your body. Your hair to your plump glossy lips, breasts pushed up from your dress, your legs and thick thighs exposed, he was even infatuated with your beautiful feet in those sexy, scandalous heels. Dean gulps multiple times, hands beginning to sweat, increasingly getting aroused by your figure. Dean grabs your purse for you along with his leather jacket. You guys get into the impala and head to the bar.

It was already packed by the time you two got there. Music loud, tables filled. You lead Dean over to your usual spot at the bar and order drinks for the two of you. “(Y/N)!” Edward comes over, obviously already drunk. He slings his arm around your shoulder and slyly squeezes your left boob. You jump in your seat, startled by the sudden grope. Out of the corner of your eye you see Dean’s nostrils flare, lips puckered in annoyance.

“Edward uhm, this is Dean Winchester. He’s my friend from a while back.” You say.

Edward makes an effort to be touching you. He sets his drink onto the bar counter, standing behind you while you sit in the chair. One hand on your shoulder, and one on your thigh, almost completely underneath your already short tight dress. “So you’re the one (Y/N) used to talk about huh.” Edward chuckles.

You mentally face palm. Fuck you forgot you told Edward about how Dean left you once. Dean clenches his jaw, passes a side eye to you. He takes a sip of his drink and sets it back down. “And I haven’t heard anything about you.” Dean pulls an angry grin.

“Ahh alright how about we have some shots!” You yell to the two of them. “3 shots please!” You call out to the bar tender.

“We’re about to start another game of pool. Dean, you wanna join?” Edward asks.

“I’d be happy to.” Dean takes the shot like water. Edward also takes it, slightly grimacing at the taste. You shake your head and take your own shot, immediately ordering another one after.

Edward takes you by the waist and walks you over to the pool table, Dean following behind. Some of Edward’s friends join in, along with some strangers to watch. Rock and Roll plays, Eye of the Tiger starts up, getting the bar riled up. Edward starts first, getting a ball into the hole. He grabs you by the hips afterward, standing behind you he presses his clothed cock against your ass. You intently watch Dean durning his turn. His muscles flex when he moves, shirt fitting him tightly, riding up his back as he leans over the pool table. You knew Edward was no match for Dean playing pool. Dean hit three balls in durning his turn. He turns around, smirking at you and glares at Edward. Edward goes next. Dean stands close to you durning your boyfriends turn. You could smell his cologne, god he always smells so good. The side of your hip brushed against him a couple times as you move around a bit, each time you touched slightly you felt shivers down your entire body. Maybe it was the alcohol hitting.

As they play, the more increasingly angry Edward gets. As they play, the more cocky Dean gets. Edward begins to not notice you anymore. Durning one of Edward’s turns, Dean wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. “You’re beating his ass.” You whisper over to Dean, standing on your tippy toes to reach his ear. He chuckles, looking down at you and smiling. “We need to play again sometime.” You laugh and bump him with your hip, causing his hand to fall and wrap around your waist instead. You felt dizzy from Dean’s touch. “I guess you just want me to beat your ass again.” You jokingly tell Dean. Everytime you play, you would always beat him and Sam. They would always say that you’re cheating. Dean slightly squeezes your love handle as he begins to pull away, “How about you grab us some more drinks, huh sweetheart?”

Shivers get sent down to your pussy. His husky voice never fails to make you wet and horny. When you get to the bar, you take two shots of your own, and bring a tray to the pool table. Dean and Edward finish the tray themselves, trying to out do each other.

Everything is blurry at this point. Dean, Edward, and you were clearly wasted. The pool game finishes, and of course, Dean wins. Everyone cheers out for Dean, including you. Without thinking, you jump into his arms and hug him. Dean holds you up by your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. “Shots for everyone!!” Dean yells. Everyone heads over to the bar. Besides you. When you get off Dean you begin to walk with him and the crowd, however Edward holds you back into the crowd. He grips your wrists tight, causing it to hurt. “What the fuck was that (Y/N)!?” He yells at you.

“Get the fuck off me! You’re drunk!” You yell at him, trying to swat his hands away. His grip only tightens and he begins to pull you to the bathrooms. “Get off me!” You yell at Edward, trying to pull away. He slams you against the wall, head facing it. “Why the fuck are you hanging out with Dean Winchester?” He spits, grabbing your hair into a ponytail. Panic spreads through your body. Fight or flight. Well, you ain’t no bitch, you’re a fighter. You slam your head backwards, head bumping Edward. He falls to the floor dizzy. For a minute you could have sworn his eyes turn black. Doesn’t matter if it was your eyes playing tricks on you, you were out of the bathroom in a second. Hurriedly, you squeeze through the crowd in the bar, trying to find Dean. “Dean!” You yell out. You can’t find him. You exit the bar and begin to call Dean. No answer. Fuck fuck fuck. You take a breath to calm yourself. Putting your hair up into a ponytail, you begin to head back into the bar. Before you even step foot, the door opens, revealing Dean.

“(Y/N)! Where were you? Are you okay?” Dean asks worriedly. He grabs your shoulders and look down at you, scanning your face. He looks down at your wrists and they are red. “That motherfucker.” Dean grits his teeth. He gives you the keys to Baby. “Sit down. I’ll be back okay?”

“I feel like I saw black eyes.” You say.

“I’ll go in there with that expectation.” Dean says, looking at you. He stops for a second before pulling you into a tight embrace. “I’ll be back okay?” He repeats. You nod your head and begin to walk to Baby.

Not even 5 minutes later Dean comes out the bar, fists clenched. A pissed off expression covers his face. He slams the door when he enters the impala.

“Stupid ass fucking piece of shit Edward Cullen is not going to contact you again.” Dean murmurs. He steps on the gas and drives you back home. The car ride was quiet. Somehow along the way Dean had placed a gentle hand on your thigh. You accepted it, placing your hand ontop of his. You let down Baby’s windows, needing to feel the fresh air.

You and Dean enter your house. He helps you take off your heels and makes you sit on the couch. He takes off his jacket and sits next to you. You lay your head down onto his shoulder, sighing. “What is this, Dean? What are you and me?” You ask. The alcohol is still making you bold. Dean must still be feeling the alcohol too. Your glossy eyes look at each other for a little bit too long. “I want you, (Y/N).” Dean says. “Dean…I can’t do this if you are going to leave again.” You whisper. Dean’s eyes shine, a sorrow expression on his face.

“He wasn’t a demon, (Y/N).” Dean says. “For once, I’m thankful it wasn’t. I’m tired, (Y/N). I’m done hunting. I want to start over. I want to start over with you.”

Your lips crashed against his wet, plump lips. He gently grabs the back of your head, pulling you in closer. You moan into his mouth. Your tongues dance together and you French kiss. Dean lifts you up and places you into his lap. You grind down onto his already hard bulge. Your dress has already lifted up all the way, exposing your black lace thong. Dean moans at the sight of you. He lifts your dress off your body, immediately kissing and licking the top of your breasts. You grind down harder on Dean, needing to feel more friction against your clit. Dean takes your bra off, exposing your breasts to the cold air. He takes one nipple at a time, licking and sucking, swirling it in his mouth getting it hard. He massages your other boob in the process. You beg Dean to take off his shirt. He obliges, exposing his abs and muscles. Dean kisses all over your neck, collarbone, and down to your titties. You needed more of him. “Dean, baby, please I-“ He cuts you off with a kiss, his fingerings beginning to trail down to your soaking wet pussy. “Baby you are so wet for me.” Dean groans. You grind against his fingers, trying not to moan loud. Dean lays you down onto the chaise of the couch, while he is on his knees at the bottom of it. He pulls your thong to the side, exposing your pussy to him. His thumb slowly and gently rubs your hard clit, circling it. He begins to taste you, moaning as he does so, lapping all your juices like he’s thirsty. You swore you could have just come undone by him tongue fucking you. When he adds a finger into your soaking wet hole you scream. “Fuck Dean!” You feel as his thick, long fingers fill your hole. He curls them, hitting your spot. With his other hand he continues to rub your clit. One hand grips onto his dirty blonde locks, while the other is trying to grab onto the couch. Dean chuckles watching you unfold in front of him.

“Dean I’m going to cum.” You cry in urgency, moaning out his name. Dean decides to add another finger inside you, stretching you out with his three fingers. With another flick of your clit, you tense up and shake, and cum with a cry out. He doesn’t stop though, he rides out your orgasm, fucking you with his fingers and playing with your engorged clitrous. You body feels warm, like you’ve been sweating. Dean pulls his fingers out of you and gives you a long lick, your hole to your clit. You shudder.

However Dean is not finished with you. He unbuttons his pants, pulling down them along with his boxers, his cock popping out. Dean gives it a couple strokes, looking at your body. “Come here baby.” Dean instructs. He has you sit up on the couch while he stands. You greedily lick his cock from his balls to his tip, swirling your tongue around the tip of his penis, then planning your lips around it, sucking it to the base of his cock, choking at the length. Dean moans your name and gently holds your hair up for you, out of your face. You massage his balls with your hands, while you fuck him with your mouth. Dean cusses and shivers as you deep throat him. Dean makes you stop, pulling you up to kiss him, tasting his own cock in his mouth. Dean smacks your ass a couple times and swings you unexpectedly over his shoulders. He carry’s you up the stairs and lays you down onto bed, missionary style.

“I’ve missed you.” Dean moans into your ear, stroking his cock. “I’ve missed everything about you.” He kisses you, placing a hand on your neck, holding you in place.

Dean puts your legs over his shoulders and slowly slides his large cock into your vagina. You feel your walls opening up around him, gripping his cock tight. He begins to pump you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, telling you how sexy, and beautiful you are. How much he cares for you, how much he loves you. He’s making love to you. You moan his name out, his dick pumping deep inside of you, making your toes curl. “Dean you feel so good inside me!” You cry out, your nails trailing down his back making red marks. Dean groans into your neck, leaving sloppy kisses and hickeys along it. “If you keep on talking I’m going to cum.” Dean chuckles, making his pace faster.

“Cum for me Dean. Please cum for me!”

With that, Dean pours his cum straight into your pussy, you could feel his dick twitch strongly inside of you. His pulls out, and his cum leaks out of you. He gets off of you, and lays down behind you, pulling you into an embrace. He snuggles his face into your hair, breathing in your scent. “I won’t leave you, (Y/N).”

•••

The birds chirping in the morning wake you up. You roll over to find the bed empty. You sigh, typical. You throw on an oversized tee and head down the stairs, however a smell of fresh coffee, bacon, eggs, and pancakes fill you senses. There Dean is making some breakfast for the two of you. He didn’t leave.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Dean smiles at you, bringing you over a fresh cup of coffee. He places a kiss on your forehead as he does so. “So I’m thinking today I can go and buy that lawnmower…”

The end

Or is it?

324 notes · View notes

deans-queen · 1 month

Text

Bad at Love ❤️‍🩹

Prompt Idea: “At my worst, I worry you’ll realize you deserve better. At my best, I worry you won’t.”

Characters: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (Y/N) – mostly told in your (the readers’) P.O.V.

Summary: Dean and you have been close friends for a while since you started hunting with him and Sam. After a hunt, you and Dean get into a fight, then he gets vulnerable about his feelings towards you.

Inspired by the song: Bad at Love by Halsey

Warnings: SMUT, p in v (wrap it up kids), mature and sexual language. *18+ Readers ONLY please!* ( my best friend helped me with the smut parts )

Reader’s P.O.V.

“I really don’t need this from you Dean!” I shouted while storming into the bunker.

I walked quickly towards the room that Dean, and I were sharing.

Sam followed behind us, he was clearly irritated. “Will you guys stop already! This has been going on for an hour now.”

“Shut up, Sammy.” Dean said sternly. “And don’t you walk away from me damn it!” He roared while pointing at me. I got into the room and slammed my stuff down on the floor. Dean followed me into the room and shut the door.

“You’re being ridiculous! I can totally handle myself on hunts!”

“Yeah, cause trying to seduce a Werewolf and then getting kidnapped is handling yourself.” He said sarcastically.

I turned around and put my hands on my hips. “I thought it would work.”

He rolled his eyes.

He’s so damn stubborn, I can’t stand it.

“That’s not the point Y/N, you could have gotten yourself killed.”

“Well, we took care of that werewolf and still saved that little girl.” I sat on the edge of the bed and folded my arms.

I scoffed and muttered to myself, “I didn’t have this trouble when I was working alone.”

Dean turned back and looked at me with a shock to his face. “If that’s the way you feel sweetheart, then the door is right there.” He pointed at it and we both stayed silent for a minute.

I glared at him, got up and began to walk away. Tears were filling up my eyes, I guess my instincts were right about me and Dean. We didn’t belong together. Even though I have been crushing on him for a few months now it was obvious he didn’t have any feelings for me.

“Wait…” He said softly.

“What?!” I said harshly, turning around to face him.

“Look- I’m sorry, okay? I don’t know what came over me.”

“Why are you acting like this Dean? I mean…ever since that guy flirted with me last week you’ve been acting differently. I thought we were friends.”

“That’s the thing Y/N, I don’t want to be just friends with you…”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Listen to me, please.” He said softly while taking my hands. His beautiful emerald, green eyes went from anger to soft and sincere.

“The reason I’ve been acting like this is because over the past few months I’ve developed strong feelings for you. I tried to hide them as much as I could but I…I can’t get you out of my head. The way you walk, the way you talk…. the way your hair lightens in the sun, the way your eyes light up when you laugh. It’s all so damn sexy to me.”

I was too stunned to speak, after all this time he felt the exact same way about me. I smiled at him and touched his face. I stroked his cheek and his stubble tickled my fingers.

“I feel the exact same way about you Dean, I have ever since I met you.”

He smiled back at me while saying this, “And the reason why I got so upset with you about the hunt is because I don’t wanna lose you. I always make the same mistakes cause, I’m bad at love. I’m bad at expressing my feelings. It’s something I’ve struggled with since I was a kid ... I pushed you away because at my worst, I worry you’ll realize you deserve better and walk away like all the others have.”

I'm bad at love

But you can't blame me for tryin'

You know I'd be lyin' sayin'

You were the one

That could finally fix me

Lookin' at my history

I'm bad at love

“That’s not true Dean, I’m always going to stand by you. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” I nudged him while winking.

He touched my face and leaned towards me allowing our lips to collide. The kiss was soft at first, growing more passionate. His lips were so soft and plump. I pulled back looking at his face and kissed him passionately again, he started rubbing on my body and within seconds our clothes were off. He began to lay me down and he started kissing my neck down to my boobs, while grabbing them with his strong hands. His lips moved down to my belly button and shortly after his mouth reached my pussy. I gasped. Dean asked, “Do you want me to keep going?” I said “Yes please,” I said softly, while I shoved his head back down.

As he went on my pussy was dripping wet and I was getting more antsy to make love with him. I told him to stop and lay down. “Now it’s my turn babe.” I said. He smirked and said “Okay.” He looked up and down at my body calling me beautiful. “Your body is so perfect baby, and it’s all mine.” He growled. We switched positions and I began to climb on top of him, teasing him while rubbing his dick on my pussy. He said “Don’t tease me baby, I want you inside me” I laughed while slowly putting it in and we both moaned instantly. “Oh fuck!”, we both said while grabbing onto each other. I started bouncing up and down super fast. Dean told me to stop. He didn't want to cum yet, but I told him I wanted him to. I was so close to cumming and I didn’t wanna stop now. I began going back and forth hopping on his dick and I begged Dean to cum inside me. He smiled looking at me and said “Okay, baby.”

On the last bounce Dean and I came together while moaning in each other’s mouth and grabbing each other's skin. We sat there for a moment and Dean looked up at me and said softly “You’re so perfect”, while passionately kissing me again.

“I guess this means we are together now.” Dean said.

And I giggled, nodding in approval. I was so happy that he was finally mine.

Then we stayed in bed, cuddling and enjoying each other's company. All while eating cheese burgers …. and of course pie!

Authors Note:

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girls-alias · 1 month

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Those Eyes - Dean Winchester P3

Title: Those Eyes - Dean Winchester Part 3

Words: 3,394

Relationship: Dean Winchester X Reader

TW: Strong language. Angst, Sexual Tension, Choking, Dom-Sub, Fingering, Hair-pulling, Spanking.

Taglist: @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @pycobutterpie @deans-queen @suckitands33 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @seasoning-spam @cxmitrbl

Part 1 - Part 2

Haha, just realised that every GIF I've used for these parts have all had him licking his lips. I didn't realise before this that I had a thing for it, outing myself haha 😳💜

Goosebumps formed on my body as his right hand found my waist, I gasped softly at the contact. He smirked as he looked over my body, his hand rubbing a path up my chest, between my breasts and to my neck. I bit my lip, his eyes catching the movement and smirking as he recognised my weakness to his hand on my neck. My knees felt weak as his smirk grew evil. He gripped my neck, squeezing the sides softly to restrict blood flow but not affecting my breathing. I gasped, as he moved closer to me. His lips were less than an inch from mine as he looked into my eyes.

"If you lock that door tonight, there will be hell to pay, got it?" He asked, his lips ghosting over mine. I internally begged for him to kiss me, his lips touching mine and taunting me wasn't enough, I needed to taste his lips, his tongue. All of him. I need it! I nodded quickly as he raised an eyebrow at me, clearly wanting an answer. He smirked softly before his eyes narrowed on me. His grip tightened slightly, I bit my bottom lip, eyes rolling back as I tried controlling my breathing. "Food is waiting for us, you have three minutes to get dressed or you're wearing nothing," He instructed, releasing my neck and stepping back. I gulped as I looked at him. As good as being naked with Dean sounds, I don't think Sam would be pleased. "You're wasting time," He added. I pulled myself back to reality, stepping away to hurry to my clothes. Grabbing the first things I could find to put on.

I threw on my joggers, stumbling slightly as I noticed Dean just watching me dress. Still staying true to his words, looking at me like he wanted to eat me. I believed he couldn't actually be able to look at me that way but somehow he has proven me wrong. I reached for the first cotton fabric I touched, yanking it out of the bag and throwing it on. I looked down as I pulled my shirt down, I was wearing black joggers with a bleached flower design on the sides and a black tank top that was maybe one size too tight but my go-to shirt to show off my boobs and get free drinks in the bars.

I snickered to myself as I realised that Dean had to play pool to earn money for drinks, working hard for it and all I had to do was walk around with flesh showing.

I turned around, flashing Dean a smile as I looked at him. He took his time looking up at my body to meet my eyes. He released his bottom lip from between his teeth to smile at him. Something about the moment felt wholesome to me. I began remembering how I had fallen for Dean. His smile, his positive energy. Sam always complained that he was angry and secretly hated himself but all I could see was a ray of light and joy. Sam and I could never agree on the topic.

Dean's eyes quickly shifted to wanting to eat me, and I felt my neck muscles tighten. "You're going to wear a tank top with no bra?" He asked menacingly. I bit my lip a little nervously. Dean smirked as he advanced towards me. He lifted my chin to look up at him as he looked down on me with dark eyes and that sexy smirk. "Perfect, I'm going to be able to watch your nipples harden when you look at me," His voice was deep and felt like satin. He lowered his lips closer to mine, our noses touching as he used my lips as a microphone. "You know, you still have about a minute," He added, smirking as he watched the thoughts behind my eyes.

We still have a minute, are we going to make out before we have to go to the food? God, I wish he would just hurry up and kiss me.

"I want to use this minute to know what is off limits." He explained slowly, my eyebrows furrowed slightly but Dean smirked. He moved his hand from my chin to pull my hair slightly. I bit my bottom lip as I moaned softly, my eyes rolling to the back of my head. "Is hair pulling okay?" He asked slowly. I quickly nodded as I peered back into his gorgeous green eyes. His hand found my neck. I gasped as he choked me softly. "Is choking okay?" I nodded instantly. He smirked, holding back a chuckle. I smirked at his reaction.

He left goosebumps on my skin, his fingers releasing my neck, slowly trailing down my right breast, over my hardened nipple, across my stomach and playing just beneath the waistband of my joggers. I held my breath in anticipation of his touch.

"Is touching okay?" He smirked, watching my deep breathing as my heart rate quickened. I nodded quickly. I practically whimpered as he moved his hand back.

I gasped as he suddenly pushed and pulled me to move me. I caught my breath as he positioned me in front of him, chest on the bed and my ass against his crotch. I bit my lip as he pushed his hips into mine. "Can I drag you around?" He asked, satisfaction in his tone. I nodded quickly. I bit down harder on my lip as he slapped my ass a little harshly. "Spanking?" I glanced back to see him smile as I nodded my head again. He leaned forward, grabbing both of my wrists and slowly moving them behind my back, my chest pushing into the bed. Dean held my wrists in one large hand. "Restraints?" He asked, I nodded again. "God, we might need more than a minute to find something off-limits," He commented with a chuckle. I smiled at his adorableness, it's such Dean's fashion to make a joke during such a serious situation. I chuckled as I rolled my eyes at him. Damn him for being so cute. "Stand up," He instructed. Not as much harshness to his tone as before. I followed instructions, standing up and turning in his arms to face him. "Kissing?" He asked slowly, he admired my lips as his hand found my check. I gulped as I nodded slowly. I closed my eyes as he leaned in. His lips barely touching mine, I leaned in softly. "We have to go but we're finishing this later," He whispered against my lips. I froze, rolling my eyes slightly at the denial.

"Promise?" I tempted, biting my lip as his eyes devoured me. It was his turn to nod quickly. I smirked seeing that I also have control over Dean. Maybe this isn't just one-sided, maybe he also has a weakness to me. I sucked my teeth slightly as an idea occurred to me. I smirked knowing I had to find the courage to try it.

"Lady's first," He instructed, gesturing with his hand towards the door. I smiled gratefully following his directions, I groaned slightly as he slapped my ass. I glanced back as I walked, his smirk filled out his cheeks as he took large steps to open the door for me.

"Thank you," I smirked, waiting and smiling as Dean smacked my ass again. He chuckled as he walked beside me.

We walked into Sam distributing the food onto the coffee table as he watched the TV. He glanced up at us with a smile. We all watched TV as we ate, occasionally commenting on the movie but mainly relaxing after quite a drive this morning and then working on the case. Dean and I would make eye contact but usually, it was stealing glances.

After a while, Dean must have gotten bored with the movie and decided to watch me instead. I clenched my thighs together instinctively as his eyes watched me intently. I took a second to compose myself before committing to the idea I had earlier. I have proof that I affect Dean as well, might as well test out the extent. I sucked my teeth, mentally preparing myself before looking at Dean. He smirked once we made eye contact. I bit my lip, looking him up and down, no longer hiding the fact I love to check him out. He's just too hot not too.

He looked surprised when my eyes met his again. He gulped, nervousness seeming to creep onto his features. I smirked as I bit my bottom lip, his eyes watched my lips intently as his breath quickened. I smirked a little wider now understanding why Dean loved to mess with me and get me flustered. I grew wetter and more confident as I watched him. He took a deep breath, his eyes moving down to my breasts. He practically growled as he realised his breath. I smirked as Sam looked at him confused.

"You good?" Sam asked, clearly concerned by the noise. I bit back a chuckle.

"Yeah," Dean nodded, I watched as he struggled to take his eyes off me. I smirked, biting my lip to stop myself from laughing as Sam looked at him like he was crazy and went back to watching the movie.

"Anyone want a beer?" I asked, purposely leaning forward to put something on the coffee table. I smirked as I could feel Dean's eyes on my cleavage. Though I looked innocent, placing something on the table, Dean and I both knew it was purposeful.

What's the point in having boobs if not for Dean to gawk at?

The boys both agreed to a beer, I stood, Dean's eyes watching my every move. I smirked as I swayed my hips temptingly as I walked to the kitchen. I opened the fridge, now out of sight of the boys. I took the time to take a deep breath to compose myself and fan of some of the cold air from the fridge onto my burning skin. I heard shuffling around and peeking around the corner. Dean was collecting the trash from food, something that was usually done by Sam.

"Thanks," Sam commented, slightly confused as Dean grabbed Sam rubbing. I hurried to grab the beers out and put them on the counter. Dean's only clearing up so he can join me in the kitchen.

"Turn it up, I don't want to miss it," Dean commented, I bit my lip as the volume of the movie went up. I focused on slowly opening the beers, purposely taking my time to be alone with Dean. Dean practically threw the trash on the counter beside me, I gasped as he grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around to face him. I smirked preparing myself to have snarky remarks and teasing words but the words never fell from his lips.

His hand found my neck, the other on my waist. He rushed to kiss me, his lips crashing onto mine as he squeezed my neck slightly. I hurried to kiss him back, the months of anticipating this moment making the kiss all the more needy. His tongue entered my mouth as our lips moved in sync. I snaked my arms around his neck as he dropped his hands to my thighs, pulling me up to sit me on the kitchen counter. I gasped against his lips, his mouth hungry for me as he pulled my body against his. His lips felt like electricity and tasted exactly how I'd hoped.

He held the back of my neck, deepening the kiss as he grabbed my ass. I moaned softly, my need for him multiplying by tenfold. He smirked against my lips, and a hand found my hair, grabbing a handful as he pulled it slightly to disconnect our lips. I breathed heavily as he glared at me. My lips felt bruised from the force we were kissing, his lips begged to be kissed again. I whimpered as I bit my lip. Watching as he smirked, his eyes devouring me. I quivered internally. I gasped as his left hand trailed down my waist, I held my breath as his hand ventured into the waistband of my joggers. Dipping inside to draw patterns on my hip bone. I gulped, eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"You're going to go back." He explained slowly, his hand teasingly inching towards my wetness. My breath caught in my throat as my eyes met his. I breathed deeply as his fingers circled my clit. He pulled on my hair a little harder. "You're going to say goodbye and go to your room," He continued, I nodded quickly gulping as his fingers circled my clit slowly. "You're going to leave your door unlocked and wait for me naked on the bed," He bit his lip as his fingers slid down, and he groaned quietly. "Fuck, you're so wet," He seemed to wince before he pulled me back to his lips. Kissing his lips hungrily before he pushed two fingers inside me. He used his tongue to silence my moans. Once his fingers were as deep as he could get them he curled them inside me, pushing on the spot that made my hips automatically rotate against him. He smirked against my lips. His tongue danced with mine before he bit my bottom lip. Pulling back a little to look me deep in my eyes. My breath quivered as his fingers were relentless. He released my bottom lip, breathing heavily as he admired me. His eyes have never looked so hungry.

He breathed heavily, seeming to just be enjoying kissing me and fingering me. I bit my lip, whining slightly that I had to remain silent, something I was majorly struggling with.

"Fuck, I can't wait," He growled, his lips back on mine, tongue entering my mouth instantly. I moaned against him, his fingers moving faster, practically begging for me to cum on his hand. I clenched my thighs together, the familiar feeling of building up churned my insides. He pulled my neck closer, the kiss more needy as his lips moved with mine as if they had kissed for years. His tongue expertly dominated mine as my mind clouded with the thought of sitting on his face, his tongue working on my pussy just like how he was kissing me.

He pulled back, lips instantly finding my neck as I held my head back, giving him full access to me. He made out with my neck, his fingers finding a fast rhythm that made cuming hard to avoid. I bit my lip, silencing myself as he bit my neck.

"Biting, okay?" He whispered breathlessly. I nodded quickly. He grinned against my neck before biting on my neck between kisses. I breathed heavily. My muscles tightened as my mouth dropped open, God, I want to moan so loudly but I have to be quiet, he's still messing with me. My eyes rolled back as I gulped. A powerful orgasm is just seconds away.

"Dean," I practically whimpered.

"I know, baby." He spoke softly as his lips quickly found mine, his tongue entering my mouth to silence me. His fingers curled a little faster, pushing deeper inside me. I wanted to scream. The feeling of such intense pleasure and knowing it was Dean pleasing me, only made the orgasm harder to postpone. "Cum for me, baby," He spoke against my lips. A small moan escaped my mouth before his tongue silenced me. I breathed through my nose as the orgasm hit me like a train. His fingers worked harder through my orgasm, prolonging it as he kissed me deeply. He seemed to listen to my breathing, slowing his pace as my orgasm subsided.

My brain turned to mush as he slowly pulled his fingers out of me. His lips leaving mine to bite his bottom lip, his eyes watching mine closely as he sucked his fingers clean. Moaning quietly as his eyes rolled back at the taste. I practically gawked at his reaction, my breath stumbling to leave my chest. He opened his eyes, desire riddling them without doubt. He pulled his fingers from his mouth slowly, he raised an eyebrow at me as he moved his fingers closer to me. I opened my mouth as I stuck my tongue out. He groaned softly at the action. He pushed his fingers into my mouth slowly. Watching intently as I didn't flinch the deeper his fingers got. He bit back a moan as his knuckles reached my lips.

"I hope you slept well last night, you're going to need as much energy as you can," He commented, his voice deep with desire. His fingers quietened my moan. He slowly pulled them out. I sucked my juices from them before they left my mouth. Dean's breath quickened. "Fuck," He growled, his eyes darkening before his hand gripped my neck. His lips hovering in front of mine. "Wait in your room," He instructed before kissing me. I hurried to taste him more, knowing I would have to stop kissing him only made me crave him more. He seemed to melt into my lips, clearly not wanting to stop kissing me either. He seemed to find some self-control as he pulled back, breathing heavily and glaring at me with lust-filled eyes. "Don't even say goodbye, I can't wait that long." He instructed his lips finding mine again. He grabbed my ass with both hands. Pulling me off of the counter and holding me against him. He slowly walked to the door, still out of Sam's sight as he kissed me. His tongue pushed my tongue aside as he seemed to lose all his self-control and pushed my back against the wall. His hips pushed into mine as he squeezed my ass a little tighter.

I moaned against his lips, his throbbing erection pushing against me, driving me crazy to feel him inside me, to taste more of his skin.

"What are you doing?" Sam called into the kitchen. I gasped, forgetting Sam was here but Dean didn't care to stop kissing me straight away. His lips moved from mine to my neck. I rested my head against the wall, biting my lip to silence my moan. His hips pushed into me again.

"Y/N's going back to her room," Dean explains, his voice slightly muffled by my neck.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked, concern in his tone and I knew I had to reply. God, I don't think I can. Dean smirked against my neck.

"Yeah," My voice trembled as Dean purposely pushed into me again. I glared at him as he smirked. He moved back, lips hovering over mine as he grinned triumphantly. My breathing halted as his unquivering strength continued to hold me up. His eyes watched my lips intently, clearly wanting to kiss me again. I never want him to stop kissing me.

"Okay," Sam spoke uneasily. Obviously unconvinced by my answer. Dean smirked as he remained close to me.

"I'm going to just head out, see you tomorrow," I explained, raising an eyebrow at Dean. He smirked as he slowly kissed me. It took my breath away, he was kissing me like he was in love with me, not like he was desperate to fuck me. The passion and meaning made my insides churn. The kiss alone was enough to remind me exactly why I had fallen for him before he started teasing me.

"See you tomorrow," Sam called back. Dean smiled against my lips, moving slowly as he pulled away. His eyes made my knees weak. He smiled at me as he placed me down. Holding onto me as I straightened up, making sure not to let go as my legs were shaking from the orgasm. He leaned in, lips ghosting my ear. Breath fanning my neck and sending shivers down my spine.

"I'll be there in a few minutes," He whispered, his lips kissing my cheek before pulling back to smile at me. He seemed so innocent and sincere. I gulped, nodding softly as he grinned. He kissed me again before stepping back. Opening the door for me and slapping my ass while I walked out. I giggled to myself as he closed the door behind me.

I practically ran to my room, anticipation riding my skin.

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dollyfl1rt · 3 months

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warnings: 18+ mdni, sex (pinv), oral (f!receiving)

there were a few things you and dean were terrible at.

apologies, arguments, and goodbyes were the top three. except the second was the only thing that had a damn good outcome of this toxic on and off relationship. well maybe not good but you communicated way better while arguing. anyhoo, the two of you were currently in a cheap motel ‘researching’ jinn’s.

however dean found a way to start a dumb argument which ended in you saying how you didn’t feel heard and somehow ended with you being nothing but heard.

“an..and you just-“ you started as dean sucked your clit “oh fuck”

“what’d you say i do mama?” he quipped hoarsely sticking his index and middle finger into your hole then ducking his head to kiss and nibble at your thighs as he fingerfucked you.

“mmphm..” you whined arching your back “no cmon speak up, you said i ignored you, im listening”. you smug asshole. “i-i was just saying you never take what i say into consideration or..” before you could finished he was back licking your pussy moving his fingers at a slow teasing pace.

as you felt his warm wet tongue meet your sensitive spot your thighs squeezed around his head unintentionally. this earned a low chuckle from dean followed by him sucking on your skin. this making you squirt “oh sh..shit” you voiced with your eyes shut tightly.

you had already came once so you were getting a bit overstimulated, dean took note of it and used it to his advantage by rapidly licking the bean between your slit while sliding his fingers in and out in a fast pace, your back arched deep with a slight squeal pushing your legs together once more.

shortly after you came on his fingers with a high pitched “oh fuck”. dean then removed his fingers and licked them dry with a smug look “heard you loud and clear this time..hell i think everyone heard you” he pecked your forehead.

(repost)

@taylormarieee 💙

#spn #dean winchester #dean winchester supernatural #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader #smut #dean winchester smut

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zepskies · 1 year

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Never Say Goodbye - Part 3

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 4,500 Warnings: Language, fluff.

Part 3: Contact

As it turned out, your life started to get better after you missed that shift at the coffee shop.

Oh, you still got fired. But the experience of nearly getting splattered on the pavement by an oncoming truck gave you some unexpected clarity about your life.

Mainly, you needed to stop wasting it. You were tired of jobs that would pay your bills but not bring you closer to your career. And frivolous thoughts of coffee shop boys and…the hope of running into your soulmate.

Maybe one day, you could dare to hope, but from now on, you wouldn’t let it rule your thoughts. You wouldn’t hope too hard either.

It could save you from the disappointment of never hearing anyone’s thoughts but your own.

So you decided to check the University of South Dakota’s career board for jobs, and you discovered an opening in the history department! A research assistant for one of your favorite professors, who was writing their dissertation on the strange, superstitious, and sometimes down-right disgusting social practices of the Ancient Greeks (including bottling up the sweat of their best athletes, because they thought their musky body oils contained magical properties).

Since you were already majoring in history, you were a shoe-in for the job. And working directly with your professor gave you a great resource for future classes.

Four years later, you had earned your bachelor’s degree in History. You even decided to further your education when you were able to get a scholarship for graduate school.

Now you were just one semester away from finishing your master’s. You still worked in the history department, but you had been able to upgrade—to Executive Secretary to the Dean of Ancient Studies.

It sounded fancy, but really, you were a glorified slave. Or at least, your boss seemed to think so.

“I need you to cancel my meeting at two,” said Dr. Birch. She breezed into your tiny office without knocking, startling you from where you were hunched over your laptop.

“Good morning!” came your reflexive greeting, though it was a bit too loud and sharp. You internally winced at yourself and relaxed your posture, like a bird unruffling its feathers. “Cancel your meeting with Dr. Wells?”

Dr. Wells was a nice man, and an important one. He was the Head Dean of the entire History department. Technically, he was above Dr. Birch. It wasn’t a good look to blow him off, but you weren’t about to say so.

“Yes, I have an important lunch, and I already know it’s going to go overtime. Gary will understand,” she replied. She was looking at her phone rather than at you. For all she cared, you were just a calendar with hands.

Dr. Helen Birch was a brilliant woman. She’d published no less than five books, had won awards for her peer-reviewed articles, and she had been your academic advisor all through graduate school.

She could also rival Meryl Streep for “bitchy-ass boss” in The Devil Wears Prada.

“I also need you to grade the final exams for one of my classes,” she said. “Greek Studies this time.”

You held back a sigh. Again? I’ll never finish my own finals at this rate.

But what you said was, “Sure, I can do that. And I’ll email Dr. Wells to reschedule.”

“Yes, make sure it’s not on Thursday,” she said, brushing a finger through her thin blonde hair. “I have to leave early to get my roots touched up before I go away this weekend.”

“That’s fun,” you chatted while you revised Dr. Birch’s calendar on your computer (and sent an apology email to Dr. Wells). “Where to?”

“Oh, I have this tedious conference in Chicago. But then my boyfriend is taking me skiing in Breckenridge.” She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I simply can’t wait. This semester has been a drain on my psyche, and just terrible for my migraines.”

With the email sent, you took a little breath and gathered some courage as you got up from your desk and gathered a handful of papers you had stapled together. It was a rough draft of your thesis, which was only a bit worse for wear (including a suspect coffee stain that you didn’t remember accidentally putting there).

“Actually, I was going to ask you if you got my email about my thesis. I just wanted to go over some of the feedback you gave me on the draft,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Dr. Birch raised a brow. “What of it?”

“Well.” You showed her the front page, which was covered in red ink. “Mainly the part where you crossed out the first three pages and commented, ‘Missing the point.’”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid I have nothing to add about that.”

Well, that didn’t exactly help you. The first three pages was your entire introduction to your thesis, “TV & Film: The Modern-Day Mythology of the Masses.”

You must’ve had a pitiful, lost look on your face, because Dr. Birch finally took pity on you. She sighed.

“You are a creative girl. I’ll give you that, but your degree is not in cinematography. You are a historian,” she said. “And while the ‘Well of Souls’ in Raiders of the Lost Ark may be based on a real historical place in Jerusalem, that does not mean Indiana Jones can, or should be described as a ‘religious experience.’”

My ten-year-old self would bed to differ, you wanted to retort, but you kept your mouth shut and lowered your eyes. Dr. Birch nodded to herself and was about to leave your office, until she stopped short and gave you her Amex card.

“Oh. And get me a coffee, would you, dear?”

The moment your day ended and you were able to get into your car, you let out a long sigh of relief. While you waited for your car to warm up, you massaged your hand, aching from grading papers for Dr. Birch’s class.

You rubbed your hands together, this time to warm them as the frigid air draining from the car still bit into your skin. A shudder tingled through your body, and not in a pleasant way. Honest to God, I hate the winter.

On reflex, you toyed with the silver ring on your right hand—your mom’s ring. It usually comforted you, but today, remembering her made your heart heavy. Because today was the anniversary.

You still remembered that snowy day when you were fourteen, could picture it so clearly, like a scene painted on glass.

With one last sigh, you fished out your phone to call your dad. It rang for a few seconds (it always took him an eternity to answer his phone, and it drove you crazy).

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad,” you said.

“Hey. Just got off work?”

“Yeah, I’m headed back to Sioux Falls. Want to meet at home and go together, or do you just want to meet me at the cemetery?”

The other line was silent for a moment. Longer than you would’ve liked.

“You’re coming, right?” you pressed.

“Look, I’m gonna have to work late tonight,” Jack said. “Don’t wait up for me.”

“Really?” Your voice was terse. “It’s one day a year, Dad. You can’t even manage that?”

“I told you I’m working a case.” He sounded annoyed. You didn’t care.

You were pissed.

“Whatever,” you dismissed. But then, you realized you weren’t willing to let it go just yet. “You know, I just find it interesting. On her birthday, Christmas, today, somehow you just can’t be bothered to visit your wife.”

“Hey, drop it, all right?” your dad snapped back.

“Sure. It’s none of my business, I guess.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm either.”

You silently fumed, but you weren’t willing to hang up the phone first. You didn’t want to look petty, and apparently, neither did he. You both could be stubborn like that, sitting in a tense stretch of silence instead of just…

Instead of just, I don’t know what, you could admit, if only to yourself. Eventually, his voice reached your ears.

“I’ll go when I can,” he said.

“Fine.”

And you really did hang up this time.

What should’ve been an hour drive back into your hometown took almost two with the traffic.

Oh yeah, you still lived at home with your dad. It wasn’t ideal, especially with a long-ass commute every day. But unfortunately, being a full-time student with a part-time job didn’t give you the budget to have your own life.

At least you had your car—a dark blue Camaro your uncle had restored and gifted you for your twenty-first birthday. You didn’t talk to your Uncle Bobby as much as you would like. Between work and school and taking care of the house for you and your dad, you didn’t have much free time on your hands. You did see Bobby around town sometimes, and occasionally shared a beer with him when your demanding schedule allowed.

Your dad had never liked it, you hanging around your uncle. So you didn’t tell him.

That seemed to work out better for both of you.

In fact…

You reached for your phone again and found your uncle’s number.

“Stop badgering me, Rufus. I’m busy.”

Your lips curved into a grin. “Uncle Bobby?”

“Oh. Hi, darlin’. Sorry, thought you were some riff raff that keeps spammin’ me.”

“What did Rufus do now?” you asked.

“He knows,” Bobby said. The surly edge to his voice made you smile in amusement.

“What’re you doing later? Up for a beer?”

“Usually I’d take you up on that, but I’ve got some people coming in pretty soon.”

You scoffed. “You have people? What people?”

“You’re not the only number in my cell, you know,” he said dryly.

“What, you mean Rufus?” you teased.

“All right, now you’re just runnin’ up my minutes,” he said. “If you really want that beer, you’re welcome to swing by, if you want. I’ve got a stocked fridge full of cold ones.”

You laughed, then you considered his offer. Did you really want to go home and deal with your dad (whenever he bothered to come home)?

“Well, I’m going to the cemetery first, but I could maybe swing by after,” you replied.

“Right, that’s today, ain’t it?” Bobby said. “Give your mom my respects.”

A more genuine smile grew on your lips. “Thanks. Will do.”

You hung up with him just as you got to the cemetery. It was hard not to feel melancholy here, especially in the winter. All the graves were lightly dusted with snow, and it felt like the world came to a quiet stillness here.

You bundled up with your scarf and gloves as you braced yourself for the cold, stepping out of the car. On your way in, you heard the rumble of a car going by. It was loud enough to make you turn your head and see a flash of black speeding away.

You shook your head. People drive like maniacs nowadays.

You were about to continue on your way towards your mom’s grave, when you finally heard it.

Say goodbyeee…never say goodbye-y-aaayy. Holdin’ on we gotta try, holdin’ on to never sayyy goodbyeee.~

Someone was warbling a Bon Jovi song in your mind, and it certainly wasn’t you.

But you did come to a dead stop in your path. Your eyes widened as shock claimed your heart and your brain. Soon enough though, your heart warmed as you became aware of something new. It was like a low hum at first, reverberating inside your chest.

You and me and my old friends, hopin’ it would neeever end. Say goodbye—

The singing continued, but all you could focus on was the thrumming in your skull, the thread of connection you could sense and feel inexplicably. You didn’t realize you were crying until you felt warmth trickling down your cold cheeks. Sniffling, you wiped your tears with the back of your hand and smiled tremulously.

You were finally feeling your soulmate.

Which meant, he was close by…and with that realization came an important question:

What the hell do I do now?

They were in South Dakota again.

Dean knew coming back here was…potentially dangerous. He hadn’t heard his soulmate’s thoughts in four years, since the last time he was in this state.

Truth be told, he hadn’t wanted to come here. After the last hunt though, he could use some R&R at Bobby’s for a couple of days.

This time Dean had his brother with him, albeit the circumstances weren’t…great. Their dad was missing, and Sam had lost his girlfriend in the process of trying to find him.

Sometimes, Dean really regretted going to find his brother at Stanford. Part of him thought, if he hadn’t hooked Sam into coming with him to try and find John, maybe Jessica Moore would still be alive.

A more selfish part of him (one he wouldn’t name) was glad to have Sam with him. Dean was actually having fun hunting with him. And maybe, Dean was having to get to know him again too.

“You think Bobby will have any intel on Dad?” Sam asked from the passenger seat of the Impala. They were about five minutes away from Singer Salvage, the old man’s tow business (and his house).

“Doubt it,” Dean replied, changing the radio station once Bon Jovi turned to REO Speedwagon. He could get down with some pop rock from Jovi, but REO was pushing it.

“Then why are we here?” Sam turned to him with a frown. “We just ganked a poltergeist in our old house and…we saw Mom. You think we should be wasting time right now?”

Dean’s lips pursed. Leaving their old house behind in Lawrence, Kansas was exactly why he needed a minute before jumping into the next case. As much as he wanted to find John, Dean just…he needed a minute to breathe.

Revisiting those old (painful) memories wasn’t easy for him. He wasn’t sure that Sam completely got that.

“Bobby’s got a stack of lore books to Kingdom Come. Who knows, he might have a way to help us find Dad,” he said.

Sam shot him an unimpressed look. “And if he doesn’t?”

Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He got why Sam was so fired up. Really. The fact that the kid was having weird…premonition dreams about the near future was concerning. And he wanted to find the thing that killed Jess, that killed their mom, but this was clearly going to be a marathon. Not a sprint.

“In the meantime, we crack open a couple beers,” Dean said, “get one or two of free nights on actual beds, and then we’re on our way to the next gig. How’s that sound?”

Sam let out a sigh through his nose and faced the road ahead. They both knew he wasn’t happy. Dean couldn’t exactly blame him.

When they finally got to Bobby’s, the old man greeted them with a casual wave, beckoning them inside. He offered them the contents of his fridge—a few beers and a frozen lasagna defrosting in the fridge. Dean scoped it out while Sam dropped off his bag in the upstairs guest room.

“That for us?” Dean pointed to the lasagna with a grin. “Didn’t know we merited the red-carpet treatment.”

“’Cause it’s not just for you,” Bobby said dryly, then he hesitated. “...My niece might be swingin’ by later.”

Dean raised his brows in curiosity. “Didn’t know you had a niece.”

Or any family, for that matter. He knew the old man had a wife, once upon a time, but he assumed she’d passed away. No kids. Bobby had never talked about having an extended family. He didn’t have pictures on the walls, and the shelves only had books and locked boxes.

Bobby took a long sip of his beer after opening a bottle each for himself and Dean. He had one ready on the counter for Sam, who came into the kitchen looking tired. The kid hadn’t been sleeping well for the past few weeks, to say the least. Dean handed him the beer.

“I don’t see her much,” Bobby conceded.

“Why’s that?” Dean asked.

It took a moment for the other man to answer. Eventually, he was honest. “Well, she's grown. Going to school, got a job. But you could say I had a fallin’ out with her dad, a while back.”

“You have a brother?” Sam said.

“Brother-in-law,” Bobby corrected. He didn’t say anything more about it though. Sam and Dean shared a look that said they agreed: There’s something off there, but I’m not gonna pry.

“You still see her though?” Dean asked.

“Every now and then,” Bobby said, sipping at his beer again. “It’s a small town.”

That kind of pissed Dean off. Bobby was a good guy. He’d watched Sam and Dean a lot when they were kids, their dad on a hunt. He’d made sure they had decent food to eat, good movies to watch, and even played catch with Dean a time or two.

So what kind of assholes did Bobby have for family, that they couldn’t be bothered to check in on the old man every now and then? They must’ve been off living their lives, in their own little world. Must be nice.

Dean brought the bottle of Heineken to his lips, only to realize it was empty. Couldn’t have that, could we?

He went to the fridge and opened the cap, only to jump as the beer fizzed and leaked over his hands.

Damn it!

Bobby sighed. “And I just mopped the damn floor.”

“All right, Martha Stewart. Keep your slippers on,” Dean teased. “Sam, get me a paper towel.”

Bobby tried to get by him to get the mop, but beer was still dripping down Dean’s arm.

“Would you move to the sink, already?”

Sam finally cracked a small grin as Dean rolled his eyes. “Fine. Jesus. You’d think Miss America was comin’ into town.”

Damn it.

You heard him again. And this time, you could hear his voice, so you knew the thought belonged to a him. The voice was pleasantly deep, and annoyed. You actually felt his irritation and were able to recognize that the emotion didn’t belong to you.

Excitement bubbled in your throat, almost making it hard to breathe as you drove your car down the road. You had been too worked up to go see your mom, and technically you were supposed to head to your Uncle Bobby’s house, but this was too important.

You needed to figure out how to talk to him—your soulmate.

So you pulled over on the side of the road, and even turned the radio off. Okay, now what?

You didn’t know what you were supposed to do. They taught about this subject in school, sure, but that had been years ago! You’d spent the past six years filling your head with college and work and learning how to be an adult.

Okay, just breathe. You calmed down a bit with some deep breaths, and you closed your eyes. When you first heard your soulmate’s singing in your head, you remembered feeling warmth spread through your body, emanating from your chest. Then in your mind, you’d noticed a…a thread, of what could only be described as energy.

You felt it now. You could almost visualize it with your eyes closed. In your imagination, it was bright and beckoning. You focused on it, and it grew brighter, thrumming and soft.

You thought of what you wanted to say, and you tried it—sending your thoughts and your will through the connection.

Having a rough day?

Dean was still wiping beer off the floor in Bobby’s kitchen when he heard your voice ring through his mind.

Having a rough day?

His entire body tensed, and he paused with a ball of wet paper towel in his hand. Sam had taken the mop from Bobby and was about to finish off the floor, until he noticed Dean blanking.

“Dean?” he asked.

It shook Dean out of his shock, enough for him to look up at his brother. “Hmm?”

“What’s up? You were staring off into space.”

Dean feigned innocence. “Nothing.”

Sam’s brow rose, but he didn’t press the issue and went back to mopping. Dean took the opportunity to toss the wet paper towel in the garbage.

“I’m gonna hop in the shower,” he said, and made his swift exit to the bathroom upstairs, so quickly that he didn’t see Bobby watching Dean curiously from the living room.

“Don’t use up all the hot water!” Sam called after him.

Once again, Dean found himself locking the bathroom door and staring at himself in the mirror. His green eyes were conflicted as he tried to calm down. Maybe his heart was starting to beat a tick faster. Maybe a trickle of nervous sweat was making its way down his spine. Maybe he didn’t know what the hell to do.

His dad’s warning was still clear as a bell in his mind.

“Unless you’re prepared to hang up your gun, and stop hunting, don’t open that door.”

Dean knew why John had said it, and even agreed with him…at least, logically he did. His life was complicated, and insane, and bloody. How could he put someone else through what he went through? What he still went through every day? It wasn’t right.

But his chest was aching. He rubbed at it absently.

He could feel your worry again, he realized. You were anxious, probably waiting for him to respond. Dean could feel you. Having a rough day? you’d asked him.

So as usual, he made an impulsive choice.

You could say that, he carefully replied. He remembered the way your voice sounded, smooth and pleasant in his mind, and he couldn’t help smiling a little. But not for long, I’m thinkin’.

Your relief hit him in a slow, but powerful wave. It almost made him feel guilty for taking so long to answer.

Well, it’s not every day you hear someone else in your head. Maybe you’re going crazy.

She was teasing him. You were teasing him.

It brought an incredulous smile to Dean’s face. You’re one to talk. Maybe you’re just talkin’ to yourself right now.

Hmm. I don’t usually warble to Bon Jovi, but maybe you’re right.

A beat of surprise, another to remember what he and Sam had been listening to in the car earlier, and then embarrassment prickled at the back of his neck.

You heard that, huh? he asked wryly.

Maybe, you giggled. It was a cute sound, and it cut through some of his embarrassment. He wasn’t used to being put back a step by women. He was good at reading people’s body language, and usually it didn’t take him more than one look to figure out what a woman thought about him, and what they wanted to do with him.

So the fact that he couldn’t see you was a challenge. With that realization, a slow smile spread across his face. He was game for a challenge.

Well, I’m likin’ your voice so far, he said. Think I could get you to sing for me?

He felt you pause, a flutter of warmth through a tendril of shyness. I’ll leave the performing to you, Romeo.

Come on, it’s only fair.

Who said life is fair?

Dean sobered a bit at that. Ain’t that the truth.

Hmm, so you were having a rough day.

Make it a week, he said.

Yeah, I know the feeling…I wasn’t having a good day today either.

Dean sensed your melancholy and didn’t like the feeling. Well, now you’re talkin’ to me. So it should be smooth sailin’ from now on.

He could feel you brighten at that. It made warmth bloom once again inside his chest, especially because he sensed you were smiling—a bit shy, but genuine.

…What’s your name? he asked.

It took you a beat, but eventually you gave him your name. It wasn’t what he expected, but he liked it. Your name rolled through his thoughts, and he tested on his tongue.

What’s yours? you asked predictably. Somehow, Dean didn’t anticipate the follow-up.

Suddenly he realized exactly what he was doing: he was talking to you. (Something he’d told himself he wasn’t going to do.) Not to mention, he’d been locked in the bathroom for about ten minutes and hadn’t even showered yet. Pretty soon either Sam or Bobby was going to come knocking to see what the hell he was doing, so he might as well shower for real.

He answered you as he turned on the showerhead and started undressing. I’ll make a deal with you…if you can guess what I do for a living, I’ll come by and introduce myself in person.

Dean felt your shock, so he let you think as he stepped into the shower. Eventually you came back, annoyance coloring your emotions and your voice.

That’s stupid.

Dean smiled. Aw, come on. It’ll be fun.

For you!

Don’t you know, sometimes the best things in life come after some delayed gratification.

You paused for a moment, in which Dean didn’t know if you were in shock again, or just pissed. Maybe a combination of both.

Great, I got a comedian, you deadpanned. …You’re not a comedian, are you?

Sweetheart, I’m hilarious, Dean replied. But no. Good guess, though.

He sensed the equivalent of you rolling your eyes.

Just then, Sam knocked on the bathroom door.

“Hey, you better not use up all the hot water!”

“Twenty minutes of peace, Sammy. That’s all I ask,” Dean shot back. Sam made a sound of annoyance, but he went away, leaving Dean almost alone with his thoughts.

Look, I gotta go, he said regretfully. But I expect you to have some guesses cooked up by the time I get back from work.

You were still annoyed, but you begrudgingly agreed to his terms.

Fine. Just…don’t wander too far off. I can’t win the game if I can’t hear you.

Dean sensed your underlying worry, and your fear. You were afraid he was going to leave.

His heart softened. As a result, he ended up promising things he didn’t know if he meant.

Don’t worry. I’m not leaving town until you win, he said.

He felt your warm smile, along with your excitement.

Goodnight, sweetheart. We’ll talk soon.

Okay…goodnight.

He hung onto the feeling of your presence for a few seconds longer, before he let go of the connection. For now.

Dean caught himself smiling, but it quickly turned to a frown.

“Nobody should be waiting on men like us to come home bloody.”

When he once again remembered his dad’s warnings, that new warmth in his heart chilled, and it sunk like a stone. He leaned against the cool bathroom wall and pressed his forehead against the tile, while lukewarm water beat the side of his face and body.

Shit.

AN: Oh, Dean. What're we gonna do with you? lol

I hope you enjoyed Part 3! I promise they'll finally meet soon lol. What did you think of their first conversation?

To keep reading: Part 4

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wayward-dreamer · 3 months

Text

Wake Up Call

Square/s filled: somnophilia @spnkinkevents |

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 1,060

Summary: Y/N starts Dean's birthday in a special way.

Warnings: Swearing, smut: dirty talk, somnophilia, brief handjob, oral sex (m receiving), fluff

A/N: Wrote this as quickly as possible for our man's birthday, so it's unbeta'd but I hope y'all like it. Happy reading! :)

Y/N woke up before Dean did, and she was thankful for that, especially on this special day.

It was a good thing the boys had found the bunker, because he tended to take things easier when they were there and had no cases lined up. She had spoken to Sam a few days ago and made sure that they had nowhere to be, because her boyfriend deserved to be spoiled on his birthday. She wasn’t sure how many times Dean had celebrated the day before she came along, but now that she had been around for a few years, she always tried to do something for him.

She took advantage of her eyes opening before him to take in his peaceful features as he slumbered. His face was relaxed, his thick eyelashes resting against the soft skin above his cheekbones, his pouty lips parted slightly as he snored softly. His short hair was sticking up in different directions, and she bit down on her bottom lip as she took in his chiseled jawline, the defined muscles of his bare arms as he had pushed the covers down the length of his body during the night. The man was like a human heater and it was great whenever she felt cold to be able to snuggle up to him. Not that she needed a reason to do that.

He looked incredible all the time of course, but he was the most irresistible like this.

She shifted closer to him, carefully so that she didn’t wake him, smirking slightly as an idea for his first present of the day came to her, before all the others she had in store for him. She rested her hand flat on his warm chest and let it drift down, moving under the sheets and over his boxers, causing her to smile mischievously as she felt his morning wood. She caressed him through the thin fabric, feeling it twitch under her touch as he began to stir, his eyebrows pulling together in confusion.

She leaned in, her lips pressed to his ear as she lowered her voice. “Sshhh, it’s okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”

A small hum from him let her know that he drifted back, allowing her to pull his boxers down before she brought her hand to her mouth, dropping some saliva into her palm. She curled it around his length, her hand slowly pumping up and down along his shaft. She stifled her own moan as she heard a low groan escape him, but his eyes remained closed, his chest rising and falling. She smiled, placing a feather-light kiss on his cheek, before she shifted down the mattress. She pulled the covers down further, her hand continuing to stroke him at a slow pace. She felt him getting harder in her grasp, and she pressed her thighs together to keep her own excitement at bay a little longer.

She glanced up at him briefly, seeing his eyes still closed, before she leaned down and licked a long stripe along the vein of his cock, her other hand cupping his balls. Dropping more of her saliva along his shaft, she took the tip in her mouth, licking the precum off before she sucked softly. She kept her gaze on him as he shifted in his sleep, his eyebrows furrowing once more, but that didn’t stop her. She circled her tongue around the head before she sank down, taking him deep into her mouth. He hit the back of her throat, a small gag leaving her but she let her throat relax, bobbing her head back and forth. No matter how many times she did this, she was still in awe of his impressive length and girth, but she would never give up the feeling of that delicious stretch she only felt because of him.

Y/N kept looking at Dean, smiling around his cock as she watched his head toss to the side, a rough “fuck” escaping him. She wondered if he thought he was dreaming this, but she didn’t dwell as she continued her ministrations, her tongue circling the tip every time she drew back before she took him deep in her throat. She rolled his balls in her hand, no doubt adding to the arousal coursing through him. His eyelids fluttered, but didn’t flick open, allowing her to keep pleasuring him with her skilled mouth. She pulled back briefly, pumping her hand around him once more, smirking wickedly as green orbs finally met hers.

“F-fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, his hooded eyes gazing down at her. “What’re you-”

She cut him off by sinking her mouth over his hard length again, picking up the pace as she bobbed her head, taking him deeper every time she moved down. He couldn’t keep his lids open, letting them close as his hand moved into her hair, giving in to the incredible feeling she was giving him. His neck strained, the veins pressing against his skin as he felt how close he was, his head tilting up as he panted harshly. It wasn’t long before his cock throbbed and pulsed between her lips, his balls drawing tight in her hand as he got closer to his release. With one last lick over the head of his shaft, she kept her mouth around it as ropes of his seed rolled along her tongue and down her throat, hearing the strangled growl that left him.

Y/N drew back and swallowed, smiling softly as their eyes locked on each other. She crawled along the bed, laying down next to him as she snuggled closer. She giggled at the way he shook his head and scrubbed a hand down his face, huffing out a small chuckle.

“Damn it, sweetheart,” he husked, breathing heavily as he came down from his high. “That was some wake up call.”

“Well, I had to start the day off right,” she stated, beaming.

Dean cupped her face in his hand and leaned in, his lips pressing to hers lightly before the kiss grew more passionate, unbothered at the trace of himself on her tongue. She pulled away, her mouth hovering against his as she beamed, seeing the grin on his face and the way his eyes lit up. She couldn’t wait for everything else she had in store for him.

“Happy Birthday, Dean.”

#spnkinkevents #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader One Shot #Dean x Female!Reader Smut #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester One Shot #Dean Winchester Smut #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Supernatural Fanfiction

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deanbrainrotwritings · 3 months

Text

— LIVING LOVING MAID (SHE’S JUST A WOMAN)

SUMMARY : being Dean’s wife, doing very kinky stuff with each other, it’s the best thing ever.

PAIRING : dean winchester x wife!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff, breeding/impregnation kink, p in v, dirty slutty behaviour/cute loving behaviour, sex tape, gentle choking, finger sucking, spanking, cum eating, spitting, cum kissing

WORD COUNT : 3.2k

A/N : led zeppelin song title. nothing to say but there's a Japanese song playing in my head Xxx

“So,” Dean wondered, fixing his laptop at the foot of the bed, “how are we doing this, baby?” He asked, looking at himself as the camera on the laptop recorded him and his wife beside him.

She flushed and pulled Dean’s brown flannel closer to her bare body, “I don’t know,” she laughed, watching his smile widen. “I’ve never done this before.” She looked away from the image of the two of them on the screen, and gazed at her Dean right in front of her. That heated look in his fierce green eyes made her feel more confident and unbearably aroused.

“You wanted to do this,” he laughed, shuffling on his knees to get behind her. She looked down at the screen, her eyes fixed on her husband who’s smirk only made her stomach do flips.

“Yeah, but…” she trailed off, following the movement of his hands up her body, slowly opening his shirt. Heat pooled between her legs, followed by a sensation of wetness dripping down her thighs that distracted her further.

“But what?” He teased, cupping her breasts to knead them roughly in his warm, calloused hands. The wedding band on his finger brushed against her nipple and made her inhale sharply and her focus was brought back to him.

“Don’t you have any ideas?” She chuckled, squirming in his strong arms. Dean rolled his eyes and let her turn her upper body to face him. She brought her hand up to cup his stubbled jaw and pulled him in for a quick kiss.

Dean smiled down at her and pecked her lips once more, shivering in response to her nails brushing at the short hair behind his neck. Dean tilted his head, his nose brushed against hers, and he kissed her softly again—a chaste kiss that trapped her top lip between both of his. Pillowy and chapped against her mouth, she smiled at his tenderness.

“I have a few ideas,” he murmured, keeping his hand on waist, bringing the other into her hair. She hummed curiously, but Dean kissed her again, instead of elaborating. This time, his tongue pressed against her somewhat parted lips, but he pulled away before she could respond to the affection.

“Like what?” She whispered, closing her eyes when he dipped back in for a kiss. Finally, Dean remained close as his tongue prodded at her lips. Effortlessly, his wet tongue slipped between her pink lips, and she leaned back into him, her entire body succumbing to his lips. His love. His adoring tenderness.

Dean pulled away, his tongue lapped at hers before parting from her mouth breathlessly. He cupped her cheek in his safe hands, brushed his thumb against her cheekbone, and tilted her face down to press his lips to her forehead. She smiled softly and moved with him to look in each other’s eyes once more, both greeted by fondness and warmth.

“You’re not…” he trailed off bashfully, letting his hand fall from her waist to her hip, and then across to her stomach. His thumb brushed against the smooth flesh by her belly button and something ignited inside her, her pupils dilating in instant understanding of what he was asking. “… Using contraceptives anymore, right?”

She glanced quickly at the camera, then sat on her legs, looking up at him reverently, shyly. “No,” she whispered, looking away when her neck began to ache.

“And… that’s okay?” He asked, sliding out of bed to strip out of his boxer briefs. “What I’m, uh, suggesting?” He wondered, concerned with her reaction, met with silence. She turned to face him with a loving expression; tall, handsome, and so tender with her. How could she ever have doubts with him?

“Yes,” she replied, shrugging his shirt off her shoulders while turning her whole body to face him. Dean’s arm stretched out to take the flannel from her and her eyes automatically dropped down between his legs where his cock was already stiff and ready for her.

Dean smirked at her the whole time that he blindly discarded his shirt onto his desk, covering it carelessly in the thick cloth. She glanced back up at him through her lashes with a look of seductive grace and beauty that made him breathless.

Dean slid back into bed with her, his mellow eyes trained on her lips. “Baby, I love you,” he told her warmly, diving carefully in between her parted legs. He put his arms around her waist to draw her into him, and kissed her with all the tenderness and love he could pour into her—like the most expensive, tasty, silky wine slipping past her lips from his very heart until she was drunk.

He barely removed himself from her lips when she felt his fingers teasing up and down the seam of her pussy, from her soaked opening to her clit with quick, gentle flicks. Her eyes fluttered open, gazing into heavy greens and pinkish cheeks below thick lashes. Dean exhaled shakily against her lips, getting a clear view of the drunkenness from his kiss in her dazed eyes.

“You’re so wet,” he told her, his voice just above a whisper.

“How do you want it?” She nuzzled his nose, her lips ghosting over his, so his eyes fluttered shut. Dean chuckled, capturing her lower lip between his teeth as he shuddered.

“I should be asking you that,” he whispered, his fingers sneaking away from her core to tease her inner thighs, “but if you’re leaving it up to me…” Dean cupped her jaw, his fingers against her flushed skin so gentle, unlike the hand squeezing her thigh until she leaned into him completely, cracked lips against her pink ones.

He kissed her roughly, hungrily, revelling in her moan, in her warm hands roaming up his strong thighs. His thigh’s muscles clenched and his cock bobbed. She was just so tasty, sweet against his tongue, soft, warm, and wet—like everywhere else inside her.

Dean pulled away with a sharp inhale, her soft hands gripped his cock at the base, and her fingertips grazed upwards gently, taunting him. He pressed firm, desperate kisses along her throat, grazing his teeth against tendons and bones, sucking on tender flesh to form lavender marks, and licking across the sweetness of her skin until his lips found their way around her nipples.

She whispered his name and arched her back, begging Dean to ruin her completely. His torture was slow and endless, firm and precise. Perceptive as ever, Dean pushed every button, teasing her to the point of breaking down into tears, begging him to take her whichever way he pleased.

Her breasts were left sensitive when he stepped behind her once more, and her cunt ached, pulsing to be filled by him, readier than ever before with slick that’ll make it easier for him to sink into her. She panted for breath, aroused by his skilful mouth and adept fingers in her, going anywhere and everywhere, except for the one please that clenched on nothing. Waiting.

She placed her hands over his own when he kissed her neck again, his hands returned to her chest, before coming back down spreading her thighs. She almost forgot they were recording, when she opened her eyes, and saw herself on the screen, flushed, short of breath, messy, with her folds glistening.

“Look at you,” he rasped, parting her labia with two fingers, exposing her entirely for herself to see on the laptop’s screen, “I’m gonna wreck this sweet little pussy of yours.” She whispered his name softly and Dean slipped those same two fingers between the seam of her pussy, gathering her slick, playing with her clit.

“God, Dean,” she begged, rocking her hips against his hand. She tipped her head back on his shoulder and took his wrist in her hand, urging him wordlessly to give her something, anything at all to make her feel full.

Dean chuckled darkly, and spanked her pussy, the impact landing right on her clit. Y/n gasped in surprise, then laughed. She squirmed and turned her face to look up at him when he pushed two of his fingers into her.

Her mouth fell open, but she willed herself to keep looking into Dean’s smug, green eyes. He pushed in slowly, then pulled out to coat his fingers in more slick, teasing her with each insertion of his fingers.

When his palm rested flat against her pussy, Dean pressed himself closer to her, to angle his fingers to fit inside her all the way. “Beg for it,” Dean murmured against her shoulder, grazing the bone with his teeth. She moaned loudly in response and spread her legs wider for him. Dean gladly palmed her clit, but it was so slow and singular, so she only felt a single shock of pleasure.

Dean slowly lifted his free hand up to her neck, wrapping it around her throat perfectly. He squeezed gently and her eyes fluttered shut. Dean could feel the rapid pounding of her heart beneath his fingers, excitement streamed faster through his bloodstream, and he tightened his grip around her neck.

“Please,” she whispered at last, opening her eyes wide and perfectly making his heart speed up, “fuck me, Dean.” Dean slowly pumped his fingers in and out of her. Her pussy fluttered around his fingers and she desperately reached to grip the back of his neck to bring his mouth to hers.

“Louder,” Dean demanded against her lips, his grip tightening slightly so she felt a little lightheaded. He released her throat slightly after a few seconds, the wetness of her pussy drenching his fingers audibly with every push of them in and out of her. She clenched around him and nuzzled his neck.

“Please, fuck me,” she begged a little louder, her voice trembling. She bit his neck when he hummed softly instead of giving her what she wanted. He didn’t stop fingering her and chose to moan softly, entertained by her incessant squirming. “Dean,” she moaned, squeezing her thighs shut, “I need you so bad.”

Dean pulled his fingers out of her heat and she whined against the skin of his neck, pulling away to glare at him, her hand slipping away from his soft hair. “How bad, baby? Tell me how bad you need me,” he murmured, taking her hand from his chest, the one with the sparkling gem on her ring finger.

It shined like a star. A reminder of his love. His commitment. His loyalty. His faithfulness. A reminder of his happiness.

He kissed her knuckles and kissed down to her painted fingernails, then her fingertips, down to her palm. He planted a firm, loving kiss to her wrist where he could feel the pump of her heart beating against the thin vein with his fingertips.

She had to resist bringing her hand between her legs when his eyes closed, those gorgeous lashes of his resting against freckled cheekbones. “So bad, Dean…” she whined, taking his soiled fingers to clean them of her arousal with her mouth.

Dean's eyes flew open and his throat constricted around nothing but his breath. Her warm tongue swirled around his fingertips at first and she moaned at the taste of herself. She slowly wrapped her lips around his fingers, her cheeks hallowed as she lowered her wet mouth over them. Dean moaned as she lapped the stickiness off his thick fingers, coating them in her spit the more her mouth watered at the taste of her arousal.

“Fuck, you’re so good,” Dean grinned, pressing his fingers mischievously against her throat when she took his fingers into her up to his knuckles. She gagged reflexively and took his fingers out of her mouth in shock. A string of her saliva remained attached from her lower lip to his two fingers.

“Asshole,” she seethed, practically striking like a snake when she jumped him for a searing kiss. Heat flooded through her body when she straddled his hips and his cock brushed against her wet core. She moaned against his mouth and swallowed his groan, refusing to let him torment her. “I need your cock inside me, Dean,” she whispered against his parted mouth. She rolled her hips against his, and each time, his cock brushed through the seam of her pussy, mixing her excitement with his precum.

“How do you want it?” Dean asked between lewd kisses, squeezing her ass before delivering a hard smack to each side simultaneously. She moaned softly, smiled wickedly, and sucked his tongue until he whimpered needily.

“Hard,” she told him, teasing his jawline with her teeth. “Fast,” she mumbled, holding his face in her hands to bring his face closer. “Show how much you wanna fill me with everything you’ve got.” But she never kissed him. Dean was dying for her to do it, if how quickly he leaned in to connect their lips meant anything as she pushed his face away with a chuckle. She slid out of his lap to lay on her back, her knees bent, tempting him to turn and settle between her legs.

“You’re so mean sometimes,” he grinned, playfully spreading her thighs open when he settled between her legs. She rolled her eyes and grabbed the pillow nearest to her to place it beneath her hips.

“I’m just being as mean as you love me to be,” she smiled triumphantly when he rolled his eyes. The loving smile on his face when he stared down at her made a flurry of butterflies erupt in her chest.

“Heh,” Dean bit his tongue thoughtfully as he smiled boyishly down at her. She lifted a brow at him and pursed her lips. “I guess I do like you mean and bossy.” She rolled her eyes at him and wrapped her fingers around his cock, stroking it up and down slowly. “Yep, just like that, baby,” he encouraged her, his voice gravelly, hot, and a little playful.

It made Y/n’s insides quiver and made a new wave of arousal to drip down her thighs. “You’re so fucking hot,” she whispered breathlessly, guiding his cock to her fluttering hole.

“You look even hotter,” his lips parted as he watched himself slip into her, “taking every inch of me.” Dean rolled his hips forward and back slowly, closing his eyes at the sensation of her walls clinging tightly—hot and wet—around his cock.

“Please, don’t hold back,” she pleaded with every slow roll of his hips pushing his length in and out of her. Dean’s lip quirked up on one side at her request.

“If that’s what you want, ” he murmured, sliding his hands up the back of her warm thighs until the curve of his thumb to his forefinger locked behind her knees to keep her legs open and pressed almost against her chest.

Dean’s hips snapped forward, eliciting a surprised gasp from her. But he didn’t stop, continuing to pound into her as she’d asked of him while she clung tightly to the sheets. The soft cloth twisted in her grasp as Dean knocked the breath from her lungs and the sense from brain, and he adored every breathless moan, every expression filled with ecstasy, the impatient wiggling of her body.

“Fuck,” Dean moaned, “you feel so amazing.”

He brought his thumb into his mouth, coating it generously in his spit before bringing it down to her clit. She whimpered at the combination of pleasure he induced. With her hips angled over the pillow, the soft head of his cock brushed against her g-spot. And when he leaned over her, he touched her so deep she almost fell into the deep white pleasure of her mind.

She cried Dean’s name as heat poured over her skin. Dean’s warm breath fanned over her parted lips before he dropped his head into her neck, fucking into her with desperation.

Now that he was close, she brought her hands to his strong back, sliding her hands over smooth shoulders and firm planes before her nails left hot red marks on freckled skin. Her head pushed deep into the memory foam of Dean’s mattress when she arched her back, her pussy clamping down impossibly tight around him before her climax.

And finally, the powerful force of her orgasm rippled through her body like a volcanic eruption. Her mouth opened in a silent scream and her thighs pressed inside his sides. Body tense and free all at once as pleasure burst through her nerves. Her pussy pulsed around him and her body shook as he pounded erratically into her, his own climax coming soon after.

His hot cum gushed inside her, making her shudder at the heat of it spreading within her. Dean groaned into her shoulder, his hips stuttering before slowing down. She breathed his name into the room, more reverently than a prayer. And Dean mumbled her name, his lips siding across her flushed, shimmering throat.

He laughed softly, muscles moving beneath his skin as he relaxed above her. She embraced him, loosely circling her arms around his neck, her fingers playing with his soft hair at the top. She turned to kiss the side of his face while Dean’s hands moving around her waist.

The relaxation didn’t last as Dean pressed his lips lower and lower, eventually causing her to let him go. His soft cock slipped out of her, but his fingers replaced it to keep his cum inside her. Her pussy closed around his fingers, and she complained quietly.

Dean’s tongue moved around his fingers when his face finally rested between her legs. Carefully, he lapped at her drenched labia and swollen clit. Her fingers seized his hair at the overstimulation, so Dean moved back down to lick her clean around his fingers—keeping his cum inside her.

“Dean,” she whispered, her fingers tracing his cheekbone and jawline. Dean curled his fingers inside her gingerly, as if scooping up their release from inside her, then obscenely began to eat everything that dripped out of her. “Oh, my god,” she whimpered, her legs shutting around his head, shaking from the inability to fully close together.

Dean made his way back up to her lips when he was satisfied, leaving a trail of sticky kisses against her flushed, smooth skin. Before kissing her, he dipped his soiled fingers into her parted lips. She sucked softly, cleaning his fingers momentarily, but Dean urged her mouthed open once more to spit into her whatever he still held.

“Swallow,” he licked his lips, “swallow all of it.”

Dean pulled his fingers from her mouth to let her do it. He watched as she did what he told her and captured her lips with his—devouring, desperate, love inflamed with stardust. His warm tongue dipped between her parted lips, wet and messy, they shared a kiss that made them feel aroused once more.

“What?” She mumbled against his lips, her eyes glistening with playfulness. “Do you want to fill me up some more?” Dean moaned softly, his wet fingers sliding down her sides, then upwards along her arms, teasing, skipping, tickling.

She smirked at him and intertwined her fingers with his own. Dean’s gaze flickered away from her flushed face to the twinkling light that bounced on the rock on her ring. “Usually takes more than one attempt to make a baby,” he mumbled, his voice rumbling and raspy. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the ring before lavishing her body in more affection.

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thebiggerbear · 4 months

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Dean Winchester x Reader - Prompt Response - "I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Summary: You and Dean refuse to speak to one another after an argument and Sam has finally had enough.

A/N: Prompt from @creativepromptsforwriting (#941). I loved writing this but I always love it when it comes to Dean. 😊 And of course, I couldn't resist when it came to Sam in the end. Brothers, gotta love 'em. ;)

Thank you to my beta Em for her services. You rock, girl!

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Female!Huntress!Reader

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Warnings: mentions of implied sex

Word Count: 1449

Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith

"I hate you." "You have a weird way of showing that."

Dean snuck a glance at you only to quickly look away when you looked up from your lore book. In return, you snuck a peek at him but pretended you were looking at something else when he lifted his head from one of the hunter’s journals he’d found in storage.

Sam had watched this infuriating dance happen at least twelve times by now and it was getting on his last nerve. At first, he thought it was hopeful. Then heartbreaking. Now it was just damn aggravating, more so because he knew his older brother was being his usual stubborn self. All he needed to do was come out and apologize already, and Dean knew that yet still refused to budge an inch.

You and Dean had gotten into an argument during the last hunt. He’d been upset that you had taken on three vamps by yourself—something you had done back in your high school days, along with killing other creepy things that slithered out of the dark. You were perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, which you had proven multiple times, and you knew when to ask for help. Dean didn’t want to hear it, claiming you could have been killed had he and Sam not been close by. You both dug in your heels no matter what Sam said, and you two were still at an impasse, giving each other the silent treatment. Still, that didn’t stop the longing glances Dean gave you when you weren’t looking, or the sad looks you gave him when he was none the wiser. It was driving Sam nuts. He had never met two people who were so stubborn—aside from his parents, of course—and now that he thought about it, stubborn or not, you and Dean were well-suited for one another.

“You know,” Sam broke the silence. “At some point, you two are going to have to talk to each other again.”

Dean shot him a surreptitious glare. You had no problem offering a withering glare of your own.

“Look,” Sam continued. “Y/N is right, she can take care of herself and if she needs our help, she’ll say something.” At your triumphant smile, Dean’s gaze darkened.

“No one asked you to butt in, Sammy,” he warned.

Sam nearly rolled his eyes. “If I don’t, this won’t get resolved because you both are too hard-headed to make the first move. Y/N,” Your eyes darted over to him. “My idiot brother won’t say it but the reason he got upset is because he’s scared.”

Dean’s free hand clenched into a fist and he gave a subtle shake of his head. Sam ignored him and continued, “He’s scared something is going to happen to you and he won’t be there to stop it. That’s why he freaked out that night. He’s not trying to tell you what to do or be a controlling jerk. He just wants you to be safe, that’s all.”

You bit your lip and turned your attention to Dean, who suddenly seemed very interested in the book in his lap. “Is that true?”

After a moment, he ground out, “Yeah. It’s true.”

You stood up, letting the book in your own lap fall to the ground with a heavy thud, and made your way over to Dean. You ripped the book out of his hands, tossed it to the floor, ignored Sam’s irritation at your carelessness with such old tomes, and crawled into Dean’s lap, his hands instantly coming around you to support you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down to kiss him. You felt him immediately begin to relax under your touch and only when his lips were completely pliant and moving with yours did you pull back, staring into his green eyes.

“Why couldn’t you just tell me that?”

He slid his hand up your back and to your hair, tenderly rubbing the strands between his fingers. “I don’t know. I just… That vamp had you in a hold and it scared the crap out of me when I couldn’t reach you fast enough. What if he had gotten more of a drop on you? What if—”

You gently placed your fingers against his lips, stopping him from finishing that question. “He didn’t. I killed my first vamp at 12, took out my first nest when I was 16. Hunting’s in my blood just as much as it is yours. I know what I’m doing.” You ran your fingers through his hair reassuringly, scratching at his scalp, and watched him lean into the touch. “But if you want, we can talk about it. We’ll come up with a plan that makes you feel better and works for both of us. Okay?”

He gave you a dopey smile that melted your heart. The magic touch had worked; the tension from before had finally lifted. “Okay, baby. Sounds good to me.”

You kissed him again, this time with a little more passion. “You know what else sounds good?” You murmured to his lips when you both needed a breath.

Those green eyes you loved so much immediately lit with an all-too familiar fire. “Do tell.”

You leaned in and whispered your plan into his ear, making sure Sam wouldn’t overhear. By the time you pulled back, he was grinning like crazy. Clearing his throat, he helped you off of his lap and back onto your feet as you both turned to face Sam, a mischievous smirk fighting its way onto your face. You knew that would get him going.

“Actually, I just remembered I left the…stove on in the kitchen. And Y/N here has to go call Jody to…give her an update on the case and how it’s going.”

Sam gave you both a look; he wasn’t buying it. You turned and gave the same look to Dean. He really hadn’t come up with anything better than that? “I hate you.”

“You have a weird way of showing that,” he teased, subtly rubbing up against you and smirking. This man was so lucky you loved him.

You shook your head and looked away, your cheeks growing hot. The bastard was turning you on even more and he knew it. It’d been almost two weeks, the longest you’d gone without since — well, since meeting him.

Sam was the one to clear his throat this time. “Whatever. Happy you both are talking to one another again. Now, go do what you’re going to do but just not in front of me, please. Okay? And you’re welcome.”

Dean shot Sam a look but he was too happy to care what Sam was intimating about his being the one who settled things between the two of you. He gave his younger brother a wide smile. “If you need us, we’ll be…” He trailed off, gesturing to the hallway that led to the rooms.

“Oh my God,” you muttered in embarrassment as you grabbed his hand and pulled him after you.

“Oh, hey!” Sam yelled. “Keep out of my room this time, Dean. I mean it!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean called back.

You had just turned the corner when Dean immediately had you up against the wall, kissing you passionately and picking you up, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist. When you pulled back for air, your brow furrowed in confusion at seeing Dean move past his door. “Dean,” you panted. “Where are you going? You just passed your room.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled.

“Okay, then where are you taking me?”

His smirk was so wicked you knew what the answer was before he said it. “Sammy’s room.”

“Dean, are you kidding me? No!”

“Relax, we won’t be in there long.”

“You know how upset he was last time and he just said—”

Dean came to a stop and kissed the crap out of you, effectively silencing you. You may have been a little dazed when he finally let you get some air. “He’s got the better bed and I want the very best for you, baby.” He then gave you a salacious smirk and leaned in. “Plus I know how much you love that headboard.”

He waggled his eyebrows at you as certain memories replayed in your mind. You were able to hold onto that headboard for a long time, it held you up well, and same for Dean…oh shit. Sorry, Sam.

“What are you waiting for?” You bit out impatiently, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing his chuckle. As he walked you into Sam’s room, shutting and locking the door behind him, you made a mental note to later google the hell out of this headboard and find one for Dean’s bed.

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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 2 years

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Messy Eating

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: Dean’s messy. Whenever he eats, it always falls everywhere on the table, on his chin, on his fingers… It was all fine, until it wasn't. Until that hunt with only you and him. Until jealousy and anger mixed with pie and sexual tension.

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Word count: 7202

Warning: Smut, unprotected sex, fingering, p in v, hickeys, lots of finger sucking, food play, messy eating, bit of angst, minor injury

Square filled: finger sucking for @spnkinkbingo

A/n: Here it is! I wrote that one a while ago but never posted it for some reason... I think I didn’t think it was good enough. But I read it again today and it’s so much better than what i do now, which is nothing cause of my writer block xD anyway, enjoy!

“You’re messy.”

It always started the same.

The day started normally. You got up, the second after Sam but before Dean. As you walked into the kitchen, the smell of coffee greeted you with a good morning from the youngest Winchester making lunch. Since you've been living with them, you've never seen Sam miss a single breakfast cooking surprise.

Around the time of your sixth sip of coffee, the bacon roasting in the pan, Dean arrived still half asleep. He poured himself a cup of coffee, complimenting the delicious smell of bacon and how his brother knew him so well, making him his favorite meal every morning.

Then he ate.

The fat from the bacon trickled down his chin as he took a too big mouthful, his tongue struggling to get it all back in his mouth. Crumbs fell on his plate like leaves in autumn, always surprising you how badly he could eat.

Since it clearly was not going to fit in his mouth by itself, Dean used his fingers, pushing the escaping food back inside.

The fat trickled down his fingers as he did so, slowly, it traced the outline of his digits to land in his palms and also between his knuckles… Like a fucking delicious porno… And that was when your day turned into a nightmare. A nightmare filled with dirty thoughts, heat mounting between your legs, wetness flooding your panties.

Dean had big hands, nothing more than normal with how tall he was. Over six feet of muscle and sheer beauty to the eyes. Sam also had big hands. But Dean’s fingers… Dean's fingers were thick, long, large and blunt and from having touched them once or twice during hunts or when you had to bandage bruised knuckles, you knew they were warm, strong and soft to the touch, yet rough from his years of work and hunting.

And then you would start picturing them everywhere on your body, squeezing your flesh, your throat, sliding between your folds…

Fingering you…

And then you, sucking them clean- Him fucking your mouth with his fingers, taping at your tongue cirling them, praising how good of a cocksucker you’ll be when he’ll allow you to have his cock in your mouth-

“You're so messy,” you repeated, tearing your eyes from his fingers now glistening with grease under the neon lights in the kitchen. Christ, you couldn’t keep doing that, picturing every single utility of his fingers, not when Dean and Sam were in the same room! Faking a disgusted face, you hoped neither of the brothers noticed the truth behind your comment. I'm turned on by those fucking fingers, again!

It was unfair, so fucking unfair. Dean was single, you knew that very well. He really enjoyed having fun with women, that too you were sure, you had seen him leave bars more than once with a well-fitted bimbo.

And meanwhile, there was you, Y/n Y/l/n, a hunter-in-training who accompanied the Winchesters on hunts to learn and fix whatever injury they would get. Little Y/n who never left bars with anyone and always watched the dream on two bow legs leave with a different person every night.

It was so unfair when he was so close, but yet so far to you. It was unfair how you wanted him but were too shy and hesitant to do the first step, scared of rejection and how it could ruin your relationship with him.

Clearly, there was something more than friendship you felt for the green-eyed hunter. At first you thought it was only admiration and a little crush, after all, he was a very hot and beautiful man, but then… It grew up. More. And more. And recently those feelings, if you could call them that, had taken a turn… In the most uncomfortable craving way. It wasn't just that you loved the girth of his fingers or his tongues licking their lengths, or his lips wrapping around his digits…

It was worse than that.

His hands. His fucking fingers. You would catch yourself staring at them for long periods of time now. As he cleaned his guns, washed the dishes, or passed them against his face or through his hair. You stared at his hands all the time, so much it hurt your focus during hunts.

When you couldn't watch them, you were imagining them. Alone in your room, your hands buried in your panties, fingering yourself at the thought of him. Picturing his thick fingers instead of yours as you touched yourself… So lost in that fantasy you could almost hear his growls and feel the warmth of his body against you on the bed-

And at first, masturbating while thinking about Dean managed to lower down your needs enough to be in the same room as him. Okay, looking him in the eyes was still impossible, and the first few times you were so embarrassed, like he knew, and you had to leave immediately, but your core wasn't burning up anymore in the mere presence of him. But then, it wasn't enough. Thinking about him, about his hands, about his lips… It didn’t do it anymore, it didn’t fill the need or satiate your arousal.

The worst was when he ate. It was like no one taught him table etiquette, or that he was doing it on purpose to make you fucking horny. Food would trickle down his fingers like an invitation, any sauce, grease, jelly, cream… It drove you so fucking crazy!

“Can't help it when it's that good,” Dean muttered with his mouth full, bringing you back to the present. “Delicious,” he purred, and suddenly, it was like he knew. You were sure he heard your thoughts, that’s it, Dean’s a mind reader. Because next thing he did was put his fingers in his mouth. One at a time, slowly, he sucked his fingers clean.

Dean started with his thumb. He put the larger digits in his mouth and sucked it clean, the skin glistening with saliva, an adventurous droll of spit still linking his lips to it. For the index, he did the same, but then, there was still grease left between two fingers, so he had to use his tongue… Sliding perfectly in the tight, narrow space. For the remaining fingers, he licked them up like lolipop, from the bottom to the top, humming and moaning his approval at the taste.

You were dripping. You could feel it, the warm puddle between your legs was growing intensely as he finished cleaning his hand. Melting on the chair at the fucking sight.

And when the right hand was done, he licked his lips, eyes wide with the pleasure of the taste, stared at his left hand and… started licking it.

Under the table, your legs closed together. In the useless attempt to release some tension, you rubbed them together, trying to find some friction, but when a moan almost escaped you, you knew you had to leave. “Excuse me,” you suddenly got up, not even touching your breakfast and leaving your coffee on the table. Sam looked at you questioningly, but you barely acknowledged him before you almost ran out of the kitchen.

Now in the security of your room, the door locked, you quickly stripped off your pajama pants and panties to look at the damage.

Yeah, it was a close one.

And now you were so horny, you couldn’t leave it like that. You had two choices. Rub one out, hoping you could be fast and silent enough for the Winchesters to not notice, or take a freezing shower to cool out your head.

“Y/n, dress up, Sam found a case!”

His voice alone had powers over you, even when he was saying the most normal of things. Because, again, your imagination drove the wild route, and you started to imagine him giving you orders and dirty talking to you- that mouth was made for sins after all.

“Gimme 10 minutes!” It took a couple of tries, but you could actually manage to answer without missing a single word.

Cold shower it is.

That was mostly what you had to go through every day.

It couldn’t continue like that, it was now not only uncomfortable because of your inadequate arousal, but also because jealousy was starting to break your heart. But what could you do? Tell him? No way.

10 minutes later, you were ready to go on the hunt that Sam had found. It didn't look very complicated, mysterious disappearances, all the victims had been in the same building, cold spots, most likely a ghost.

You were waiting for Sam and Dean by the car when the green-eyed hunter entered the garage, his bag on his shoulder. "Hop in sweetheart, you're riding shotgun."

A crooked smile tugged his perfect lips as his perfect arms tucked his bag into the trunk of his perfect car. "Sam will sit in the back?" You asked, opening the door to sit in front, Dean sitting next to you. Usually, for Sam’s gigantic legs, he had to be in the front and you in the back, so this was new.

The immediate proximity with Dean gave you a heat stroke that took your breath away for a moment. Wait, how do we breathe again? Why is my heart reacting like this? It's not normal, usually I can at least breathe! Don’t look at him, you’ll look weird, you are weird, stop!

Your eyes fell on his hands on the steering wheel despite your mind just ordering your body not to look at him. His thick fingers played with the key before inserting it into the ignition. Ah, yes, to breathe, I have to inhale. Okay, I can do it. You let the air enter your lungs through your nose, but it only made things worse when his perfect scent reached your senses. Fucking perfect he smell divine.

And now his scent was already all over the habitacle.

Dean twisted the key and the engine purred its sweet melody. "No need, it's just you and me today," he simply announced. As if he had just announced a discount at the grocery store.

"What?" Your voice came out sharp and a little broken, like a seagull being strangled. Your eyes searched for him as he shifted the gear into reverse, the garage door opening behind you.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." He patted your thigh as he said this, green eyes glancing your way slightly. Your whole body stiffened at the sight and touch of his large warm hand on your body. “You're ready for a two person hunt.”

Only one ear listened to him, and you watched with sadness his hand leave your thigh to land on the bench behind you. The hunter leaned dangerously towards you, head turned towards the back to reverse out of the garage.

“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” you muttered under your breath, looking at the bunker disappearing in the rearview mirror as he drove away.

“The fuck was that!”

Now in a motel room, the hunt was finally over but it was not thanks to you. It was a ghost, exactly like you suspected, but then, it wasn’t only that. They were two, twins, kids, they died horribly in that building decades ago and now, every year at their anniversary, they kill the people that entered the building the same way they died. Blocked all doors, played hide and seek with them and then…

Locked them forever in the building, slowly killing them of starvation and madness.

“You had one job, how could you screw it up that bad!!”

The bones were easy to find, but at the same time, impossible. They were both still in their hiding place, the place they died all those years ago. The moment you arrived, you and Dean split up to search the grounds, but then, because you really were not focused, you missed all the important clues that were leading you to the place you had to go.

And here you were now, sitting on a chair, a bag of ice on your head where it hit the wall, your hand stuck in a bandage where you burned yourself trying to burn the bones.

“I’m sorry,” you tried again, but Dean wasn’t having it. He had nothing, no scratch, no wound, he burned his bones easy peasy, and when he went and checked on you, it was to see you with blood on your forehead, struggling to light your matches and burning yourself with them when you noticed him.

“I thought you were ready,” the hunter groaned, his hand rubbing his eyes slowly. Your gaze followed the movement and you couldn’t help but lick your lips. Christ, Y/n, not the time!

“I’m sorry,” you tried again. “It doesn’t hurt though,” you removed the bag of ice to show him your forehead. Dean opened his beautiful green eyes and worry could be read in them like in an open book. Guilt too. He regretted coming with you on this hunt alone. And you bet he would never allow it like, ever again.

Dean reached out to you suddenly, leaving you no time to think of a proper reaction to his proximity. Big, wide hands rested on your cheek, lifting your head up, concerned eyes focusing on your forehead. Swallowing hard, you let him do, feeling one of his hands leaving your face to gently stroke your wound. A hiss left your mouth. It was sensitive. “Doesn’t hurt my ass,” Dean let go of your face, stepping back. “What happened back there? I know you can deal with ghosts just fine, and the ghosts were not even there.”

Crap. Your lie wasn’t working anymore. The ghost twins only appeared at their birthday, which was not today.

You glanced down at your hands, playing with them nervously. Truth was, you tripped, simply, you were not focused, thinking about things and a certain person you should have not been thinking about, tripped on a plank and hit the wall face first. And when you heard Dean coming, ashamed of your clumsiness, you burned yourself trying to light the bones on fire as quickly as you could.

“I tripped and fell, that’s all,” you ended up replying, still avoiding his eyes.

“I can’t believe it!” Glancing up, you looked at him, not understanding why he was so pissed about this.

“What’s wrong with you? Why are you making a scene?” You got up, voice louder echoing in the small motel room. “I tripped, it happens! Can you let it go!”

“Let it go? Sure!” Dean exploded, anger filling his eyes and you really tried to understand why he was so pissed. “I’m letting it go, I’m going,” he took his jacket, his keys, and slammed the door on his way out.

“What the fuck?” You sat back down, putting back the bag of ice rather roughly on your head and winced. “What's wrong with him?”

You still had no idea why Dean was so mad. You got hurt, it happens, and the hunt went well, you burned the bones and that was it. Still, you felt like you did something wrong and didn’t like having fights with him, so you did what you thought was safe, you walked to the grocery store and bought Dean a pie. Maybe it wouldn’t be enough for him to forgive you for whatever you did, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to stay moody when he would get back if he had a pie. Dean could never be mad with a pie.

If… He came back.

You suspected he went to a bar and would probably spend the night with another nameless chick, so you left the pie on the table with a note, saying you were going out and you were sorry. Anger and jealousy were boiling in your veins at the thought of him with another girl, but you were still wondering why he was so mad in the first place.

You decided it was time to dress up for the rare occasion of you going out and even put on some makeup, glad you brought all of those things with you this morning. The fed outfit would do the job, short, black pencil skirt with a tight white blouse.

The bar was close to the motel, and no Impala in the parking lot informed you Dean wasn’t there. Perfect. It was your turn to have some fun, you had to let him go, Dean would never be interested in you, and tonight's weird reaction only confirmed that.

After a few drinks and a few men crossing your path, you finally found the right one and were ready to leave with him for the night. It wasn’t something you did often, one night stand with strangers, especially after you drank and after a fight with Dean, but tonight, you wanted to. Be like him a little, be wild, do whatever you wanted, and the guy was handsome. Tall, short hair, brown eyes… shorter than Dean tho. And more muscular. But it wasn’t Dean you wanted.

Also the stranger’s hands… They were not like his. Big, yeah, but his fingers were longer, less thick, nails not as blunt. Probably someone working in an office, those hands never saw hard work in his life, other than holding a pen to sign some documents or lifting weights at the gym.

No, you had to stop comparing him to Dean, it wasn’t Dean you wanted.

Your high heels were starting to get uncomfortable as you walked with the stranger to his car, his name was Glenn or… Sean… Or… His name had no importance whatsoever.

One moment, you were sure of yourself, dizzily walking to his car, but then, you were not so sure anymore and you stopped on the spot.

“Everything okay sweetheart?”

The way he said that pet name wasn’t him. It wasn’t…. He wasn’t the man you loved. You drank tonight, but not enough to lose the last remains of your consciousness. This, this wasn’t you, sleeping all around with strangers, pretending your feelings and your attraction for the green eyed hunter didn't exist.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, starting to step back, scared he would suddenly get really mad at you for changing your mind. Men were like that, getting angry, treating women like sluts and teases for changing their minds. “I can’t…”

“Hey,” he softly said, a soft smile drawing up on his lips. “It’s okay, we don’t have to either. Don’t worry.” Even if his words seemed trustfull, you were still suspicious. Your hunter instinct kicked in, but in that outfit, there were no pockets, so you had no weapon to defend yourself. “I know how it feels.”

“What?” You frowned, your head tilting to the side as he stepped back instead of closer.

“I came here to forget, and… And well, I don’t want this to turn bad. I had a great evening, it can end up like that,” he proposed, shrugging his shoulders.

You studied him for real. “Wow, they still exist,” you laughed, really believing him now. Truth could be seen in his eyes, you were good with reading people’s intentions. “I must confess, I had a nice time too, Steven.”

“Glenn,” he laughed, and this time, you really felt the tension leaving your shoulder. “But close enough.” Glenn walked closer to his car and then turned to you. “Let me drive you home at least?”

In the end, even if the bar was close by foot to the motel, you accepted Glenn’s proposition. It felt good to trust someone, not immediately jumping to the conclusion he had to be a monster or possessed or a complete dick. Glenn was nice, kind, too, and in the car you learned he was the CEO of a paper company downtown and well, things weren’t going well at his job, that was the reason he was at that bar.

The drive ended up rather quickly, and that was when you noticed the beautiful 67 car in the parking lot. “Damn it…” You cursed. You wanted to drown in the seat.

“What’s up?” Glenn asked and you turned to him, rolling your eyes.

“Someone I don’t really want to face is there,” you confessed, staring at your wounded hand. Glenn probably followed your gaze, because you felt him tense beside you.

“He's the one that hurt you?” You turned your head to look at him. “Saw your head,” he added, and you were sure if you didn’t stop him, he would leave his car and beat the shit out of Dean, only Dean would end up beating the shit out of Glenn.

“No! God, no,” you hastened to say. “I tripped, that’s all. I swear,” you raised your hand like a promise and laughed, but he didn’t seem really convinced. “Tell you what,” you continued, picking up a pen from your purse and then his hand to write something in his palm. His skin was so soft and warm, you really wanted to stay with him in the car more, just holding his hand. It felt… Normal. You didn’t know you wanted normal until now. Just a hand to hold on to, a body to cuddle, some warmth. “Here’s my number. Text me, I’ll have yours, does that reassure you?” You smiled.

“Yeah,” it was Glenn’s turn to smile. “Thank you, have a nice night, Y/n. Call me if you need anything.”

“Will do,” you said, and then, purely because he was the nicest guy you ever met, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Good night.”

You watched the car leave the motel parking lot until it got swallowed into the darkness of the night. Your phone buzzed in your purse, a sign Glenn just texted you. Good, you had his number. Maybe you could see him again one day.

You stayed outside a little bit more, standing alone in the silent parking lot, staring at the motel. Now, you had to enter the room you shared with Dean, really hoping he was alone and not screwing another chick. Actually, you hoped he was with a chick, you would have a good reason to call Glenn back and go to his place. Anything to avoid another confrontation with Dean that would end up breaking your heart.

When you entered the room, at first you saw nothing. It was pitch black. But then, a light turned on on your left and you turned your head to see Dean sitting at the table in front of the pie you got him. Talking about an entrance.

“Had fun?”

You watched the hunter sit back against his chair, legs spread, feet tapping on the floor, arms crossed on his chest. He was still wearing the same shirt but didn’t have his plaid shirt on. Your eyes immediately stared at his biceps a bit too long. No, Y/n, you are mad at him. Stop looking at his perfection.

“Lots,” you replied, walking to your bed, ignoring his eyes burning your neck as he kept on staring at you.

“Glad you had fun with Glenn,” Dean continued and your head snapped towards him.

“What?” You were on the verge of exploding. “You followed me? How did you-”

“Got his license number, less than a minute and I had his name, age, address. Did you know his company is falling apart?” Dean continued, green eyes burning as he kept on looking at you. “I read some very interesting stuff about the CEO sucking at his job.”

“That’s not of your fucking buisiness! I’m a fucking adult, I do the fuck I want with who I want,” you exploded finally, walking towards him.

“He could have been a monster, Y/n, did you think of that?” Dean leaned forward, still sitting on his chair. He was lower than you since you were standing up, but you never felt smaller. Not with the way he was looking at you. Almost… Disappointed. “Or a demon, you didn’t even have holy water on you!” He gestured to your outfit with his hand. Yep. Disappointed. Disapproving your choices.

“I can take care of myself!” You groaned, walking even closer to him. One more step and you would be standing right between his legs.

“Guess not, or you wouldn’t have hurt yourself in the hunt!” He grabbed your wrist, showing you your bandaged hand.

“Will you let the hunt out of the conversation? Christ, what the fuck is wrong with you? I got hurt, get over it!” You tried to get back your hand, but his grip tightened.

“What’s wrong with me?” Dean rose up, his height swallowing you down immediately. You lifted your head, not breaking eye contact. You were fed up with his attitude. “What’s wrong with me is, I know. How you look at me, disapear in your room the moment I do something remotely sexual, like this!” Taking the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, Dean suddenly dipped two fingers into the pie, cupping some cream from it. Showing you his now messy fingers, he put them in his mouth, sucking them slowly. Some cream stayed on the corner of his mouth and you felt yourself choking the need to reach up and clean it. “I know. I see you,” his voice was now rusty, low and dangerous. “I hear you when you touch yourself. Do you think about me? About my hands? Do you imagine my fingers instead of yours when you finger your tight little cunt?”

Your lips parted to breathe, but Dean took it as an invitation. Sugary and thick, the fingers he just put in his own mouth stroke your lower lips, inviting you to open wider. Completely under his spell, you obeyed and felt him slip his fingers in your mouth.

It had an immediate effect, you felt yourself growing weak as your tongue licked his digits even cleaner than they already were, tasting the flavor of the pie on them. Closing your lips around them, you started sucking, eyes not leaving his green gems, like two magnets, impossible to look away.

Dean tilted his head to the side and removed his fingers, a thread of saliva connecting your mouth to them. “You’re driving me fucking crazy and you have no idea how much I dreamed of this…” Leaning towards you, Dean’s face was so close you could feel his breath on your lips. Beer, the sugar of the pie, you were hungry and only a slight distance separated you from kissing him. “So… Were you picturing me, all those times I heard your little whimpers? All those times the smell of arousal lingered in your room… Meaning you just touched yourself and got off, huh? Tell me…” His hand was still holding your wrist, but the other had free access to your whole body. Even if his skin was warm, burning, even, shivers still climbed your skin whenever his fingers grazed your flesh. They ended their exploration against your neck, playing with your hair and then, circled your throat gently. “You need to use your words, sweetheart… How badly did you want your fingers to be mine?”

“So… So bad,” you whispered, chasing his lips like he was the only oxygen in the room. Heart pounding fast, you could feel the beatings between your legs where it ached to be touched. Dean groaned, not letting you kiss him yet.

“Hmmm,” he hummed, his hand leaving your throat, touching every accessible part of your body as it got lower but avoiding your breasts. “Hmm… Say please,” he muttered, green eyes locking with yours again. You could feel his fingers against your thigh, going up under your skirt, so close to your core and yet, so far.

“P-Please…” You begged, your mouth obeying his demands without your mind needing to order your body. “Please, Dean… Need you… Your fingers…”

“Where? Where do you need my fingers, sweetheart?” He was doing it on purpose, stroking the inside of your thighs and you moaned, trying to get him to touch you faster. “Nuh huh… Words.”

Reaching down, you captured his hand, guiding him towards your core, panties now drenched and hot with your arousal. “Here… On me… In me… Please…” You whimpered, your head now a mess of him. Your thoughts were a mess of his voice, face, how good he smelled, how bad your lips burned with the need to kiss him, to have everything, to have him whole. “Please, I want your fingers inside of me… Please…” You grinded on his hands, biting your lips, moaning when you felt him shiver.

“Fuck, begging me so good… So fucking wet, all for me?” You could feel Dean’s smirk as he placed his lips on yours, finally kissing you. And like that, you let go, your free hand gripping his shirt, kissing back with everything you got. Tongue out, you licked his lower lip, Dean groaning as he opened his own mouth to let you in. For a couple of seconds, you dominated the kiss, it was messy, loud, your moans filled the room with his low growls as you kept on grinding on his hand. But you lost any rhythm when you felt him toss your panties to the side to immediately sink two fingers inside of your drenching hole.

“Oh, fuck,” you broke the kiss, trying to breathe, the sensation so perfect. You felt already full, full of him, his digits so thick inside of you. How many nights have you dreamed of those fingers inside of you, pumping your tight entrance? Way too many lost nights, trying to get off, picturing him, all of him on you, in you… A shameless moan escaped your lips, immediately swallowed by his mouth.

Once again, you tried to find your breath, it was so much, almost too much all at once, your legs shaking with the stimulation, but Dean cut down that possibility as he kissed you once again, his fingers already moving inside of you. They were going slow at first, teasing, even, almost exploring. You could feel them move inside of you, stretching your entrance, and then finding the spot that turned your moan into a high pitched whimper.

“Found it,” Dean smirked against your lips, and then, he started pistoning that spot again and again. Your visions whiten and you closed your eyes, struggling to stay up as pleasure attacked you in waves. The sound of your wetness as he moved his fingers was almost nasty, so loud, but you couldn’t hear it very well, not under all the sounds you were making. “That’s it, cum on my fingers…”

Like it was an order your body was eager to obey, you let go, your orgasm exploding between your thighs. It felt powerful, washing over your whole body, shaking as you struggled to stay up once again, and you felt something warm trickling down your legs. “Hm…” Resting your forehead on his shoulder, you moaned lazily as his fingers slowed down to a stop.

“Nuh huh, look at me,” he ordered, and even if you were still stuck in the high of your orgasm, you tilted your head back just enough to look at him. Dean had his hand up, fingers glistening with your juice and smiled as he slowly and teasingly licked his fingers clean. “Hmm… Sweet, just like I thought…”

The sight made you quiver and you swallowed, staring at every single one of his gestures. How his tongue was so pink, agile, moving languidly from bottom to top and then twisting around his digits, not missing a single spot, his chest vibrating a satisfied hum. He took his sweet time, on purpose, making your need for him stronger by the minute. And before he even finished, you freed your hand, grabbed him by the collar and pinned him to the wall, lips already stuck to his, kissing him. Hands started undressing each other until there was only flesh against flesh, hands on skin and tongue against tongue.

Once you were both naked, Dean guided you to the bed, his hands burning wherever he touched, and right now they were on your waist. You landed on the bed in a soft hmf. Your breath cut, but before you could even find it again, Dean was stealing it with his lips, kissing you again.

“Please,” you begged, your hands lost in his hair as his face was hidden against your neck, kissing and leaving his mark on your skin. Tugging, you tried to make him look at you, but only a groan answered you. “Dean, please,” you tried again, and then you felt it. Without him even looking at you, Dean pressed his cock to your entrance and pushed in slowly, stretching you and filling you up so good your head rolled back, giving him even more access to your throat he kept on attacking.

“So tight for me sweetheart,” Dean groaned, kissing your throat once more before looking at you.

It was a moment frozen in time. Two bodies joined, two souls staring at each other, eyes lit by desire, a fire that was almost extinct but always there, finally eating, finally living for real. And he was beautiful, Dean was beautiful, inside, out, everything about him was beautiful. You found yourself reaching up, cupping his face inside your palm, fingers brushing his scruff. It tickled your skin and you felt your heart flutter in pure love when he leaned against your touch, closing his eyes. A soft exhale brushed your face, like all the pressure of the world just left his back.

“Dean…” It was a whisper, only his name, but how you said it, the moment you said it, it meant everything. It was everything Dean needed to hear, everything he dreamed of. It was sex, but at the same time, it was so much more. It was the hunter allowing himself some happiness, it was him allowing his needs and desires to be true, to get them, like he deserved.

Green irises met yours as he opened his eyes, looking at you like you were the most precious thing he ever saw. It made you feel special, like you belonged to him, so many unspoken words readable in only one second of staring into his eyes.

“Y/n…”

The moment he muttered your name, his lips parted, letting the groans he was holding escape his mouth. And only then did you understood that what you felt for him wasn’t only attraction or sexual desire. It was more. Maybe he felt it too, because right now, you were closer to him than you ever were. And the moment he said your name, you felt him start moving, hips rutting, his length easily slipping back and forth inside of you. You moaned, your hand gripping his neck, inciting him to lean down and kiss you, and who was he to deny you anything? Dean leaned down, capturing your lips and stealing both your breath and your moans.

At first, it was soft, but quickly, the heat and the need that was previously so strong came back with force. And quickly, he was pounding into you, fast and hard, your hands scratching his back as your head rolled back, moans of pure pleasure flooding out of your lips. Breathing fast, Dean was groaning, mumbling things like good girl, feels so good, and the few times you managed to keep your eyes open was to see him close his. And then you could admire him, truly, without any mask, pleasure flooding his beautiful face. Cheeks red with the heat and maybe the situation, he was even more beautiful.

“Fuck, so close,” you heard him groan as a rough thrust made you see some stars. He heard the change in your voice, because his thrusts changed to keep doing that. Rough, long thrusts going even deeper into your core. “Gonna cum, cum with me Y/n,” Dean instructed and then you felt it, warm and thick, his thumb asking for access to your mouth. You let it in, parting your lips, sucking on his digit and biting into it as you felt the knot in your core expanding more and more. Moans got muffled by his finger and you bit harder, eyes rolling back as you felt it come, your walls fluttering around his shaft, it got higher and higher and then, it finally snapped in a pure bliss of pleasure.

It was so good you closed your eyes on the spot, breathing hard to get oxygen into your lungs. It was almost impossible for you to hear anymore, your ears shrilling, but you were glad to still have some hearing left to hear him as he reached his own climax.

Dean removed his finger from your mouth to place both of his hands on the bed. Rougher thrusts met your cervix, spasms of overstimulation controlling your body, and then he stilled and a long groan softly echoed in the room as you felt him spill inside of you.

“Oh… fuck…” Dean’s face dropped back against your neck, breathing in your scent, kissing the sensitive flesh of your throat. And even if his lips were burning and bruised by all the kisses you shared, pleasant shivers ran down your skin, bringing a nice, refreshing feeling. Giggling, you stroke his back softly, your fingers tracing the muscles around his spine, skin covered in sweat.

“Dean, it tickles,” you whispered. One last kiss and Dean was pulling out, laying down beside you on the bed. The two of you stared at the ceiling for a while in silence, not knowing what to say. It wasn’t awkward per say, the moment was needed to cool down, from the intense sex, yeah, but also to get back rational thoughts.

“You asked what was wrong with me,” Dean ended up breaking the silence, and you immediately turned to your side to look at him. He was still staring at the ceiling and licked his lips. “Everything’s wrong with me,” he ended up confessing, and even if you really wanted to cut him off and deny his words, you let him continue. “When I saw you were hurt, I got angry, because it was my fault.”

“It wasn’t-” You couldn’t help it, you had to make him understand none of this was his fault, but Dean shook his head.

“It was. I knew it, for a while now, not very subtle, Y/n…” A smile stretched his lips, and if the conversation wasn’t so serious, you would have adored watching him smile. It was precious, it wasn’t often you could admire that smile. “I knew how distracting I am, can’t help it, I know I’m hot,” he joked again and you rolled your eyes. Of course, having a heart to heart conversation with Dean Winchester would always end with jokes. The hunter was never known to enjoy serious and deep conversation involving feelings, like he wasn’t allowing himself to have them. Like it was forbidden to feel things. “But… I still chose to go hunting with you, and you got hurt, and I got so mad, but not at you, at me, and then I came back and you weren’t there… And even if I was a complete jerk, you still got me a pie to apologize for something you didn’t even do, I…”

“Dean,” you tried again. Dean finally turned his head towards you, and you could see hurt shining in his eyes. Your heart sank.

“I tracked your phone, found you at the bar. With that guy. I got angry with jealousy, so I left and came back here, and then when you weren’t leaving his car, I tracked his license number. His company failing isn’t his fault. Steven is mister perfect nice guy. ”

“Glenn,” you couldn’t help but correct. Dean rolled his eyes, a glint of jealousy still shining in his eyes at the mention of him. You knew how Dean could be possessive sometimes, of his car, for example, but being jealous of a perfect stranger… It was hiding something deeper than that. You don’t get jealous of people without any feelings. “So…” You changed the subject, really hating to see so much pain in his eyes. “Not only did you know how I felt, you enjoyed it, you enjoyed torturing me.”

Dean turned completely towards you, frowning. “That’s all you get from this conversation?”

“What I get,” you got closer and watched his Adam apple bob up and down in nervousness. “Is that you knew, and on purpose, tortured me with your damn hands.”

“I mean, yeah, but,” Dean trailed off, wide eyes clearly confused as to where the conversation was going.

“Dean, I’m usually really good at reading people. And when… When we…” You searched for your words, heat invading your face as the thought of it. “Had sex, I saw it. What I get is, you don’t allow yourself to feel. I know you think you can’t be loved, that you’re the wrong in what’s wrong. But it’s not true.” You got even closer, now completely invading his personal space. “What I get is, I… I have feelings for you. But now, I need to know, do you have feelings for me too?”

There was another silence. It wasn’t long, the time of two hearts synchronizing with the other as realization hit. And in those couple of seconds, you could see every emotion going through him by simply looking in his eyes. It was a whole book, a complete story of how he felt, from doubt, sadness, anger, understanding.

Love.

“I do, I think… I think I love you…” He finally said, and this time, the smile that stretched his lips was true and you welcomed it with great joy. Softly, you placed your hand on his cheek, stroking his skin with your fingers. “But you’re really bad at reading people,” his smile turned into a smirk and you frowned. “Cause you never understood I was doing it on purpose.”

“Oh, I’ll get my revenge just fine,” you grinned, your thumb slowly stroking his lower lip. “You can count on that.”

“I’d like to see you try… But first, can we huh…” Tongue poking out of his mouth, Dean licked his lips, purposely touching your thumb. Arousal poked you between your legs, suddenly really awake and aware of the proximity of the naked man in the bed with you.

“Hm?” You trailed, your attention focused on what he was doing with his mouth.

“Eat the pie? Cause it’s there and I’m hungry,” he casually said, but again, you could see all the mischief glowing in his eyes.

“You want to eat it with your hands, right.”

“Oh yeah,” Dean was already up, bouncing towards the table. “So you can lick my fingers clean after.”

“I hate you,” you sat up, looking at him now sitting at the table in all of his naked glory. Gosh, he was so beautiful, it was unfair. Shining with happiness and love. Starting to allow himself to feel.

“No you don’t.”

And like that, with the nastiest and hottest expression on his face, Dean dipped his thick fingers inside of the pie. It shouldn’t be turning you on so bad. But yet, it did.

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