#and dean was like life is beautiful again
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lacydollette · 16 hours ago
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TEAMING UP ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
pairing: exbf!dean x huntress!reader
warnings: heavy tension, mention of guns, dean being cocky, explicit language, lowkey a lil angsty, maybe fluff (?)
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Dean moved carefully through the forest, keeping his steps light, always on high alert for any signs of the werewolf pack they were hunting. The brothers had tracked the attacks to this abandoned barn in the middle of nowhere. It was the perfect hideout—isolated, hidden deep in the woods, far enough from any town that no one would hear the screams. His grip tightened on the silver knife in his hand, they were close now.
He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Sam wasn't too far behind. They had split up to cover more ground, but something about this hunt felt off. He couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't the only ones out here tonight.
That feeling was confirmed when he heard the faint rustle in the bushes ahead. Instinctively, Dean tensed, his body ready for a fight as he inched closer to the noise. He barely had time to react before something lunged at him, slamming him back against a tree with a force that knocked the breath from his lungs.
Before he could get a grip on what was happening, he felt cold steel press into his chest, and a fierce hand gripping his throat. Whoever had him pinned was strong and definitely a combat master. And as his eyes adjusted to the shadows, he recognized the face glaring up at him.
"y/n?"
His voice came out rough, startled. It had been years since he'd seen you—his ex, the one who'd walked out of his life after you’d both decided your worlds were too dangerous to pull love and feelings into the mix. The one who never left his mind, no matter how much time passed.
You blinked, shock flashing in your eyes before it hardened into something more familiar. You stepped back, releasing him, but the gun stayed firmly in your grip, aimed at him as you spoke. "What the hell are you doing here, Dean?"
Of all people to run into on this hunt, it had to be him. It was like the universe was playing some kind of sick joke on you. You hadn't seen Dean in years, not since you both decided to go separate ways. Too much baggage, too much history. You had moved on. At least, that's what you kept telling yourself.
He rubbed his neck, a small smirk tugging at his lips despite the fact that you had nearly taken him out. "Nice to see you too, y/n. Still got that charming bedside manner, huh?"
Your eyes were cold, all business, just like you had been when you first met on a hunt years ago. You hadn't changed much—still fierce, still sharp, still... fucking beautiful. The moonlight highlighted the determination on your face, and for a second, Dean almost forgot where you two were.
"I nearly shot you," you said frustrated, trying to get rid of the thought of almost killing your ex boyfriend. Dean shrugged, his smirk fading as he let out a breath. "Wouldn't be the first time."
Your jaw clenched, and he could see the wheels turning in your head. He didn't know whether you were more annoyed that he was here or that he'd caught you off guard. Definitely both.
"This is my hunt," you snapped, eyes narrowing at him. "I've been tracking this pack for weeks.", "Yeah, well, so have we," Dean replied, meeting your glare. "Sam and I are here to take them out. Same mission, different day."
Your eyes flashed with anger, and for a second, Dean thought you might shove him back against the tree again. You had always been like this—stubborn, independent, never one to back down. It was one of the things that had drawn him to you in the first place, even if it was also the reason you couldn't make it work. You were too much alike, both hunters, both living lives that didn't leave room for anything or anyone else.
You stepped back, shaking your head. "I don't need your help, Dean. I've got this." Dean crossed his arms, his expression serious now. "Really? You're gonna take on a whole werewolf pack by yourself?"
You glared at him, and he could tell you weren’t in the mood for his questions. But he wasn't about to let you get yourself killed, even if you wanted to do this alone. There were too many of them—he and Sam had already counted at least five, maybe more, and even someone as tough as you couldn't take on that many without backup.
"Look," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, "I know you don't want me here, but we're on the same hunt. Let's take these bastards out together, and then you can go back to pretending I don't exist."
You scoffed, your grip tightening on your gun while you rolled your eyes at him. You didn't need anyone else. You had always worked best alone, and you weren’t about to let anything—or anyone—get in your way. Dean's temper flared for a second, but he held it back. "Look, I'm here to finish the job. That’s it.”
You both stood there, staring each other down, the tension between you thick. It was the same as it had always been, that push and pull that had kept you together—and tore you apart in the end. Eventually you gave in, at least it would be quicker this way, right?
Dean couldn't stop himself from watching you as you approached the barn. You moved like a shadow, silent and sharp, every step calculated, your eyes scanning the area like a hawk. You were damn good—one of the best hunters he knew. But that didn't make him worry any less. The werewolf pack all of you were up against wasn't just dangerous—it was reckless, and there were too many variables that could go wrong. Dean knew that better than anyone.
You had always been independent, always insisted on doing things your way, and normally, Dean respected that. Hell, he admired it. Yet he couldn't shake the knot of worry tightening in his chest.
It felt like old times, like you were slipping back into the partnership you used to have, it was like no time had passed at all. You still got under his skin, still made his heart race in ways he didn't want to admit. And as much as he tried to focus on the hunt, on the job, he couldn't ignore the pull he still felt toward you.
There was unfinished business between you two—there always had been. And deep down, Dean knew that no matter how hard he tried to move on, some part of him would always be tied to you. You weren’t just part of his past. You were part of who he was, whether he liked it or not and he had to keep you safe.
Dean glanced over at you, his jaw tight. "Get behind me." You shot him a look, the fire in your eyes flickering to life. "I don't need you to babysit me, Dean. I've got this." He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady, but the frustration was bubbling up inside him. "I'm not babysitting you. I just don't want you to get yourself killed." You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him. "You don't think I can handle it?"
"That's not what I'm saying," Dean growled, stepping closer. "I know you can handle it, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna stand here and watch you get torn apart." Your eyes flared with anger. "I don't need your protection."
“y/n I just want yo-“ he started, wanting to explain himself, yet you couldn’t help the frustration growing inside you. You always hated when he got too protective. For some it may seem caring and sweet, which it definitely was, but it made you feel weak, like Dean didn’t trust you. So before he could finish his sentence, you turned on him, shoving him hard against the nearest tree. He stumbled back, surprised, but he didn't resist.
Your arm was pressed against his chest, face just inches apart. "I've been doing this a long time," you hissed, voice low and dangerous. "I don't need you swooping in like some knight in shining armor. I'm not the damsel here, Dean." His lips curved into a smirk, the familiar cocky grin he knew would rile you up even more. "Never said you were, sweetheart. But if you wanted to get rough, all you had to do was ask."
Your eyes narrowed, he was so annoyingly attractive like this. Dean could feel the heat between the two of you rising, the space between you growing smaller, charged with a tension that had been brewing for years. You were still pressed against him, body close enough that he could feel the warmth of you against his chest.
"Don't start with me, Dean," you warned, but your voice had softened, just a fraction. Dean leaned in slightly, his grin still in place. "Who's starting? I'm just trying to be helpful."
You faltered for a split second, and Dean saw it—the brief flash of confusion in your eyes, the way your breath caught in your throat. You felt your pulse quicken, not from the argument, but from the way he was looking at you. That look—the one that always tore down your walls, no matter how hard you fought to keep them up. You hated that about him. Hated how, despite everything that had happened between you, despite how far you had come on your own, he still had this hold over you.
Your grip on his shirt loosened just enough that he could feel the tension in you melting away, little by little. For a moment, you stood there, locked in place, the world around you already forgotten. Dean's eyes flicked down to your lips, and for a split second, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—they could pick up where you two left off, despite everything that had happened.
His eyes pierced yours as you tried to remind yourself of the reasons the two of you didn't work, the reasons you had left. Dean was trouble. He was chaos. But when his eyes had flicked to your lips, every rational thought disappeared. It was like all those years apart hadn't changed anything. You still wanted him, still felt that magnetic pull whenever you two were close like this.
Your breath hitched, and you leaned in, your lips barely an inch from his. The heat between you was undeniable now, thick and electric, pulling both of you closer. Dean could feel his heart pounding in his chest, everything else fading into the background. It was just you and him, like it always had been. But just as you were about to cross that line, a voice cut through the tension like a blade. "Uh, Dean?"
You two immediately jerked apart, snapping back to reality as Sam emerged from the shadows, his face a mix of shock and confusion. His eyes darted between you two, lingering on your form, and the look on his face said it all—he hadn't expected to see you, not after all these years.
"y/n?" Sam's voice was thick with surprise, his brows raised. "What are you doing here?" You quickly pulled yourself together, straightening your stance as you brushed off the tension that had almost swallowed you whole. "Just... hunting," you said coolly, but your voice wavered just enough that you could tell Dean noticed.
Dean cleared his throat, trying to shake off the heat still coursing through him. He shot a quick glance at you, walls back up in an instant. You kept your face neutral, but inside, you were cursing yourself for almost letting it happen. You had almost kissed him. After everything, after all the time you spent trying to move on, you had almost let yourself fall back into Dean’s orbit.
Sam's eyes flicked to his brother, and Dean could see the question there, unspoken but loud. He didn't have an answer for him—not right now. All he knew was that something between you and him had shifted, and no matter how hard you both tried to deny it, you couldn't go back to pretending like nothing had happened.
Not after this.
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links: dean winchester masterlist
tags: @gibson-g1rl @beausling @figthoughts @chevroletdean @titsout4jackles @deansbite @sugardean @deansbeer @supernatural-wolfie @hischrrypie @angelicjackles @littlelamy @nuemanfilms @starzify
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unholyyconfessions · 11 hours ago
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Dean trying to find people that look like Sam bc i love that concept
When he was young he remembered to look more at models in magazines with little waist and skinny legs when Sammy hit puberty. Jerking off at the sight of little buts and coming so fucking hard thinking about big hands and long fingers around his cock.
He lied about his first time. It wasn't with a tall blond bimbo with big tits (don't misunderstood, he really likes a good fuck with a blond bimbo) but it was with a skinny brunette with a cute pixie cut. She didn't have so many curves and her tits were small. And those weren't the only things that attracted him to her. She had big eyes complemented by long eyelashes and a beautiful smile that showed her dimples.
As soon as they finished, she lay down next to him to cuddle and it felt so... wrong. Her body didn't fit with his as it should, she didn't feel right. She didn't feel like Sam.
After that night he tried to stop, no more brunettes, no more skinny limbs, no more big hazel eyes or smile with dimples. No more girls that looked like Sam. Even if he wanted so badly to sink in the fantasy.
Seeing Sammy should be enough. Sammy pouting when Dad denied something to him and his smile when Dean secretly gave it to him. Sam showing his long legs in summer days and him wearing Dean's hoodies in autumn. The way he breathed in the training, how his cheek painted red. His pink nipples that Dean had the luxury to see when Sam was out of the shower. The warmth of his body when he cuddles with Dean on winter nights. Yeah, that should be enough. It has to be enough.
It was.
But when Sammy ran away something switched inside him, the hollow inside his chest, in his /heart/ was to big to care about what was right and wrong.
After some time the girls weren't enough so his gaze drifted slowly around the boys. It was the closest and at the same time the furthest thing from Sam. It was fatal.
Dean really wanted to me make it work, close his eyes and imagine /him/ right there with him. But some boys had hazel eyes but didn't look at him right. Some had the perfect mouth but the voice wasn't right. Some had the skinny complexity but the skin was too cold or too warm. They weren't right no matter how much he wanted them to be.
But then Dad disappeared and he felt more alone than any other moment in his life.
He almost choked himself with his spit when he saw Sammy under the light of his dorm.
Of course he saw Sammy when him and dad checked on him. But it was at a considerable distance, Sam was a good hunter and they should not be detected. He couldn't see the changes so far away.
He was massive. He felt it when they struggled on the floor but saw it? His brain short-circuited. Strong arms and big shoulders. Tall and with a defined body for sure. And his chest? Those tits were huge. Dean tongue felt so dry, his hands were itchy because they wanted to feel and he couldn't take his eyes away.
Dean couldn't get hard right now, he shouldn't.
Then Jess appeared and he tried to play it cool when he snapped to reality again.
After the tragedy Dean knew he shouldn't have felt this happy but he couldn't help it, no when he had his Sammy around once again. But it didn't last, just as he was happy he also felt miserable.
He almost forgot how hard it was to live with Sam again. His desire was always slow burning inside of him, sometimes taking the best of him out of missions, but with Sam next to him Dean felt like he was set on fire. Everything burned and nothing -nobody- give a real release.
Sam looked at Dean and him felt so /right/ that he felt his heart beat so strong that was painful. His voice makes Dean feel tingling all inside. When Dean made Sam laugh he felt so proud that his chest couldn't contain it fully. To his horror it wasn't enough anymore.
He wanted-no, he needed more, he needed to felt his hands caress Sam's long hair, he needed to memorize Sam's body with his hands with his eyes with his mouth. He needs to kiss, to bite, to swallow every little thing from Sam.
Finding someone new wasn't on the table anymore because he can't deny himself anymore.
Idk where i wanted to get with this but yeah
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drulalovescas · 21 days ago
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Man has his husband returned to him and suddenly he doesn't want to kill himself anymore
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comfortisbts · 13 days ago
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the cocky look on his face, urgh I hate how hot he is and the choke hold he has on the ladies. Season 1 Dean makes me feel like a teenager with crush *giggling, blushing and kicking my feet* 🫦🫦
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nightguide · 2 months ago
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WONDER BOY (HE BROKE YOUR HEART FIRST) STAGES OF A COWARD IN REAL LIFE (DONE ME DIRTY, HUH. KILLINITMURPHY)
actors hell: stargazer stage
SMWC: you hate everything in due time that you'll be great one day (like the star can burn in hell for all i care) and it's you in real life (that one moment) and you're done forever cuz she related to you in one point of time that she needed your help (but you got that joke well deep inside you to know what happens next) see ya l8r (probably the reason why pedophiles in the UK got more reasoning than you do
SH: YOU TELL EVERYBODY YOU LOVE 'HER' (actually the sore loser in real life before she came of age (admit it you're into teenagers without you even saying it)
SH8: *you intuitively tell her 'he ain't worth it' without you 'establishing proof that you had no wit no nothing' (you expected her to worship you)
2. harbingers: well done (insert statue erected in your honour cuz u had ur ass handed over by an intellectual/emotionally swarmed battle over your life as 'king' when you knew you weren't)
SMWC: you knew south park logic (you got dumped)
SH: you enjoying it (your society now, you won that) she doesnt like you frrrrrrr (gay man is not you cuz u had a wife and she plannin to dump you to join the baby gorl party you made up in your head(she was on her side too also)
SH8: you don't like teenagers but you have a thing for 'fluff fan-fic in real life' cuz you now have a reason to go emo-metal like you wanted but you have the same reasoning as Demi Lovato is into Djinns in real life (u emo levelling her journey as her now)
3. maestro become: shut the fuck up, Linna put you in your place. sit there you oh so holy mr reeves (she got a song about you with that) et centera memoriam ___________
SMWC: you hate life (like she did, congratulations, you can breathe air like the rest of us)
SH: time goes by so slowly (Madonna references is how trouble matches your ingenuity bro, u got another mentor since you hated her (actually her in real life)
SH8: this time (actually heartbroken now)
4. dante's paradox: sit with it
SMWC: complete your chores (you procrastinating)
SH: enjoy what's left of you
SH8: your mom is alive
5. judgement day: you knew all along but had that sudden attack realisation that her father does not like you and it's true
SMWC: you felt like her once and this is it (she wanted the best for you but she did her homework (like you wanted her to) but it was never for you: her father is a dajjal to you now (you started the fire now you live in it)
SH: her dreams 'with you' have a maiden voyage and you ain't on it
SH8: you hate living (you knew why)
6. gaiman's hell: now you do it (this time, it's all your fault. not the woman or anybody)
SMWC: you have a lot in your mind that you delayed that you should do (she was once a university student that gave up her job to work for you is now in reverse, it's her kingdom now)
SH: she actually is you (you made her do it and you live it (her home is your hell abode now)
SH8: this is you (you ain't in her psyche, get out)
7. babylon unbroken: hay day (freedom come is you living her life)
SMWC: you knew the party but did not have you running 9gag on her behalf to hate you right back (your religion did not match her high heaven ideals but you hate what you like so you took it out on a- and it's not yours anymore)
SH: you died for tha- and it was her who lived your life (you're an asshole in real life)
SH8: take a look what you've done (she hates you cuz you had what she always dreamed of and you did not like her 'being better' but you hate her world made for you now much more than intuitively possessing her gut for your mistakes to unfold (ND baby did you ugly, didn't she?)
8. kingdom come: world ended (now)
SMWC: what did you do! (she made you think but you kept her slave hunger by tragedy heartbreak cuz you think you can prey on a baby in real time)
SH: you're not in her home anymore (you made her pray for 'you' all along, so you have her craft in you to take over the world as a happy giant not even you can find)
SH8: you did her a massive favour (she got her dad involved and now it's trauma he asked for: good luck with that)
9. pythagorean theorem: what now (you the hero now)
SMWC: live it (your reason to be)
SH: you have a life (she doesn't believe in your traps anymore that control came in the form of you taking her own world with it (what you possessed in actual reality)
SH8: this time, i'll do it for myself (you plan to leave her with a dream reason of you that you'll never be (you hate yourself right now as her but that was what you always wanted, to be a Linna Riaz is you making strings that she can never be a slave, so you realised that you got her in chains as you possessing a baby is you being a dajjal to.... nobody. you a shit head in real time.
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s0urw00lf · 5 months ago
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Love is in the air
Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader
Summary: you unknowingly give Dean another reason to fall deeper in love with you
Warning: complete and utter fluff and sam is a girls girl.
A/N: idk if anyone has done something like this, but I really loved it and I think it’s my favorite fic I’ve written yet. Also this isn’t proofread so if you see any mistakes please let me know. I wrote this at 5 am so I probably won’t notice any mistakes. Anywho hope you enjoy!!!
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Today’s hunt had been a bust after you and Dean were tasked by Sam to be the cliche “couple in love” so that the envious love witch would target you instead of some other innocent couple.
So now you and Dean were in the impala driving back to the motel that happened to be about a fourty five minute drive away from the restaurant she was targeting.
The night was silent aside from the quiet music Dean had playing in the background and the light tapping of his thumbs against the steering wheel. Dean looked incredibly good in his suit and tie, a look you wish he’d worn more often.
To Dean you looked better than any angel that could grace his presence, when you exited the bathroom with your off the shoulder black form fitting dress and high heels that made your legs look like heaven, his knees almost buckled and they would’ve hadn’t it been for Sam who was there to catch him before he could.
“Hey dean?” You asked softly, drawing his attention from the empty road to you, replying with a ‘hmm’. His green eyes were extra bright in the darkness and made you want to melt in your seat.
“Can I roll down the window?” You asked, it was an odd request on your part, because you usually don’t like the pressure the harsh wind puts on your head. Dean eyebrows rose in surprise before answering “f’course sweetheart, sure it’s not gonna make your head hurt?” he asked sincerely
You shook your head “no it won’t be for long I just… want to try something” you said, pausing in thought you hoped that the feeling would push away the sadness you felt. He nodded glancing back at the road, “okay then go for it” he said with a smile.
You clicked the button to roll down the window and felt immediately relaxed. You put your arm out of the window, closing your eyes and let the wind blow on your face and whistle past your ears.
Dean watched with love in his eyes at how relaxed you looked, he could tell that the your failure to obtain the witches attention had bothered you but decided against saying anything, but as soon as the wind hit your face its like all that sadness slipped away with the wind.
You sat like that for a minute or so before deciding that was enough, you opened your eyes looking for the button again before an idea struck you. You paused in thought ‘would that be too cliche’ you asked yourself, but ultimately you told yourself ‘who cares, do it’ so you did.
You surprised Dean when you stuck your torso out of the window, he immediately grabbed on to your thigh in case you accidentally slipped. You raised your arms as the wind that was way stronger whipped past you, the air was sticky which you’d guessed was from the rain that had fell a few hours prior but you could care less.
For the first time in a life time you felt completely and utterly free, from the worries of the things that lurk in the dark, from death, and disappointment. But the feel of dean hand on your thigh mixed with the wind whipping past you and through your hair made you want to cry of happiness.
Dean watched you from inside of the car, how beautiful you looked, in that moment he was convinced you were sent right from heaven into his arms just so he could live this moment. He saw all of your worries slip away as a carefree smile graces your face. The light from the streetlight lit you up like a pop star on stage and he was your audience.
You caught him even more by surprise when you let out a loud and cheery “woooo” and it seemed like time had slowed. If both of his hands weren’t occupied he would’ve taken a picture, but he couldn’t and he would have to rely on his memory to recall this moment for the rest of his life. He wasn’t even sure how he hadn’t crashed the car.
Your heart thumped loudly at the adrenaline that rushed through your veins and that’s when you decided to get back in the car. You seated yourself back on the seat and rolled up the window before letting out the most cheerful laugh Dean had ever heard from you and just the sound itself had his heart souring. “Holy. I see why they do that in movies” you said, looking at him with the most genuine smile he’d ever seen.
Dean couldn’t help the smile that took over his features at the happiness gleaming from your face. You were glowing and it was the most precious moment of his life. “You are gorgeous sweetheart” he said, he couldn’t help that it slipped past his lips, but the look on your face showed it didn’t have much of an effect on you. You rolled your eyes, still smiling “whatever, eyes on the road Winchester, I don’t want to be roadkill because you’re too distracted” you joked. Dean huffed out a laugh in response.
For the rest of the ride the two of you basked in the happiness that replaced the previous gloom. And when you arrived at the motel, Dean was the first one out the car, rushing to your side to open the door for you. “Such a gentleman, if I’d known you’d be this sweet I would’ve let you take me on a date sooner” you joked, but Dean didn’t take it as one. “Then let me” he said genuinely.
Your smile faltered, ‘is he messing with me?’ You thought “what” you said, it was the only thing you could get out. “Let me take you on a date. A real date not one where we have to look over our shoulders the whole time. Let me take out on a date to drink champagne and eat all those fancy meals that don’t even fill you up” Dean said almost sounding as if he was begging.
Dean grabbed your hands “y/n if you let me I will go the whole nine yards. Flowers, a gift, rent a fancy car and order valet whatever you-“ you cut dean off with a kiss to which he immediately returned. The kiss was soft and sweet, you could feel his eyelashes slightly brush against your cheek, and the way he relaxed into the kiss made you swoon.
His hands dropped yours and he placed his on your hips and you bought yours around his neck pulling him deeper into it. You only pulled away because your lungs had began to burn from the lack of oxygen. Deans eyes remained closed for a little longer, reveling in the feel of your lips against his and your body pressing against him. “Woman you drive me insane” he muttered before opening his eyes.
He was graced with the sight of you smiling up at him with your arms still around his neck. “You can take me on a date Winchester, but it doesn’t have to be anything fancy. We could go to a diner in baby and I’d be just as happy” you said softly, your nose brushing his.
It wasn’t often Dean was rendered speechless, but in that moment he was sure you were made for him and only him. “O-okay” he stuttered. You giggled in amusement “have I rendered you speechless?” You teased, and deans cheeks reddened. “Maybe this will knock some words back into your head” you said before pressing your lips against his for the second time, only this time you didn’t give him enough time to recuperate.
“Hey I wasn’t done” he pouted, and you laughed loudly. Pulling away from him you closed the door to baby and began to drag him back to your shared motel room with Sam who you were sure was watching you wondering why it was taking so long for you to enter the room.
“C’mon Winchester we can talk out the details later” you said grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs that led to your room.
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Added bonus:
Sam had seen the blush on deans cheeks and he pure happiness in the both of your eyes. Dean quickly excused himself to the bathroom and Sam looked at you with raised brows. He’d helped you pick out that dress, telling you “Dean won’t be able to keep his eyes off of you”. You gave him the biggest smile trying to contain your excitement “it worked” you whisper yelled. A huge smile broke out on Sam’s face “I told you it would” he said.
He had been the biggest supporter of you and his brother’s possible relationship. “He asked me out Sammy” you whispered so Dean wouldn’t hear. You threw yourself on the bed like a teenager from one of those romance sitcoms you claimed to not like, but before Sam could ask for more details the bathroom door opened revealing a slightly less blushy Dean.
He eyes you two skeptically “what are you two whispering about” he asked. “Just figuring out how we’ll get the witch now” you quickly lied. If Dean suspected you were lying he didn’t show, because he immediately turned his back to you and Sam trying to get his tie off. You sent Sam a quick and subtle wink that meant ‘I’ll tell you later’ and he nodded trying to hide his smile
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leclercsainzz · 8 months ago
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Can I request a reader x wolff one please? where reader and non f1 male were the ultimate couple, so it came as a shock when they broke up. With many people being sad about their split, since they seemed perfect for each other. However recent rumors have surfaced that maybe she might be seeing toto, which causes quite a stir among fans, who are now speculating about the potential new relationship?
NEW ROMANTICS
PARINGS: toto wolff x fem!reader
TYPE: social media au
yourusername
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liked by jaredpadalecki, lewishamilton and 567,738 others
yourusername: @vanityfair oscar date night
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genpadalecki: 😍 stunning as always!
↳ yourusername: i love youuu 😘
user: can jensen fight?!??
user: MOTHER OMG
user: where’s jen?
user: stunning 😍
user: she does NOT age, i swear 😩
misha: 😃
↳ user: castiel energy frr
user: did jensen go with her??!?
user: mom where’s dad?!???
user: she’s soooo mother, omgg 😍
user: @jensenackles can you fight, bro?
user: lewis, what are you doing here?!?? 👀
user: the definition of MOTHER
user: has anyone noticed jensen hasn’t liked/comment?
↳ user: what are you insinuating??!? 🙄
↳ user: haven’t seen them together for quite a while, actually
↳ user: obviously they won’t be out in public 24/7
user: kindly step on me 😩
user: did her and jensen break up or something?!? 😭😭
user: anyone else noticed the mercedes boys in the likes?
user: 😍😍 gorgeous!
user: jensen’s one lucky ass mf 😩
user: waiting for jensen’s comment and like
user: ATE and left NO CRUMBS
sofiavergara: 😍 wow
user: mother is mothering 😍
user: why are ppl saying her and dad are broken up?!!?
user: 😍😍😍😍 goddess
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jensenackles
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liked by jaredpadalecki, misha and 788,825 others
jensenackles: a little bts of yesterday’s photo shoot
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user: the man that you are, oml 😮‍💨
user: the fact that yn’s getting this everyday 😭😭
user: they’re still together right?!!??
jaredpadecki: 😘
user: so fine
user: apparently he might be single again sooooo 😏
user: he’s fine and he knows it
user: WHAT A MAN 😍😍
↳ user: indeed 😩
user: are yn and jensen still together?!??!??
↳ user: of course, why wouldn’t they be?!?
↳ user: there’s been rumors going on about them breaking up
↳ user: they better not be true 😭 wtf
user: why are people saying jensen and yn broke up??!?
user: father of my kids (im kidding) (im not)
user: aged like fine wineeeee 😮‍💨
↳ user: he gets sexier each year 😍
user: SEXIEST MAN ALIVE
user: @yourusername is so luckyyy
↳ user: supposedly, they broke up 🤷🏻‍♀️
↳ user: sAy SIKE RN
user: how can i get his attention? 😩
user: another day another slay
user: finest man ever 🥵
user: that’s my dean winchester
user: i need to know if mom and dad are still together or not
↳ user: girl, frrr 😭😭 it’s been weeks
user: where’s yn??!?? she hasn’t liked nor commented 🤨
user: sirrrrrr 😍
user: so sexyyyy of him
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yourusername
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liked by lewishamilton, evalongoria and 600,839 others
yourusername: life lately
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user: YN A MERCEDES FAN?!!??!???
| liked by yourusername
user: is thAt toto wolff?!??
user: gorgeous 😍
user: missing dad hours 😓
↳ user: we’re ALL going through it right now:’(
user: mercedes?! lewis liking all her post?!? tell me u all see it?
↳ user: we all see it, i assure you 👀
genpadalecki: gorgg 😍
↳ yourusername: ❤️
mercedesamgf1: thanks for coming, pretty lady 😘
↳ user: ADMIN?!!??? WHAT IS THIS?!!?
↳ user: lewis is definitely behind all this, i just know it
user: WHERE’S JENSEN???? 😭😭😭
user: lewis is great and all but jensen?!!?!?
user: can we talk about toto’s back? 😩
↳ user: she really got the best angle
user: who got you smiling like that? 🤨
user: the most beautiful woman ever, i swear
ruthie_connell: 😍😍😍 beautiful!
user: get back with jensen, please 🙏🏼
user: please tell me you’re dining with dad in the 5th slide
user: your beauty is unreal 😩
user: wait— who’s lewis?!!?
↳ user: formula one driver
↳ user: 8x world champion
↳ user: 7* but okay 🙄
user: mother 😍
user: yn being a mercedes fan is everything to me
user: mad i didn’t see her at the race 😭😭
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yourusername
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liked by realmarksheppard, pierregasly and 679,738 others
yourusername: 💗
tagged: @genpadalecki
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user: tHAT DOES NOT LOOK LIKE LEWIS?
user: who is that?!??
jaredpadalecki: @genpadalecki 😍
↳ yourusername: our wife’s gorgeous, isn’t she, moose?
↳ user: nOt moose 😭
user: that ain’t lewis?!??
user: i’m just going to pretend that’s jensen for my sake
user: missing jensen:((((
user: her friendship with gen is everything
user: gen and yn are the female version of sam and dean
feliciadays: beautiful ladies 😍
user: and everyone thought it was that hamilton guy LMAO
user: still not over her and jensen 😭😭 they were perfect
user: MOM, WE WANT DAD BACK 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲
user: anyone else think that looks like toto wolff??
↳ user: tHat’s what i Said!
misha: thanks for the invite btw 🙂
lewishamilton: 👀
↳ user: sIR, wHAT DO YOU KNOW?!??!?
↳ user: mind sharing with us??
carmenmmundt: 😍😍😍 gorggg
user: IS SHE DATING TOTO?!!?!????
user: lewis AND george liked? 👀
↳ user: even gasly’s nosy ass liked
↳ user: that’s why his forehead so big 😭 he knows it allllll
user: her side profile, omg 😍😍
user: he definitely screams toto wolff
user: idk who this wolff guy is but i want jensen back
user: her and jensen were supposed to be endgame 😭😭
user: ngl but her and toto would definitely make a cute couple
user: i love how everyone just assumes she’s with toto now
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yourusername
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liked by georgerussell63, sofiavergara and 687,863 others
yourusername: ft a small photo dump
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user: THAT BACK LOOKS SO FAMILIAR
user: tHat’s TOTO OMG
user: toto?!?!?? 😮
genpadalecki: my loveeee 😍
↳ yourusername: 😘 love yaaa, girlfriend
user: oooh to be yn
user: ynjensen is really over 😞😞
user: toto, that’s a nice back you’ve got;)
user: toto’s one lucky mf
user: I MISS JENSEN 😭😭😭
user: yn, babe, this ain’t you, get back with dad
user: that’s a hot back
user: lordddddddd 😍
user: TOTO?!!??
user: mother 😍
user: IS THAT TOTO, OMG?!??
↳ user: yessss
lewishamilton: 👀
user: ariana (lewis) what are you doing here?
georgerussell63: nice back there, mate
comment has been deleted
user: we saw thAt comment george
user: toto is so fine omg 😩
user: my man is so fine
user: her side profile is everything
user: oNE CHANCE, YN, PLEASE 🙏🏼
user: toto’s soo lucky huh? 😭😭
user: did anyone else see george’s comment?!?!?
↳ user: what comment???
user: MOM MOM MOM MOM
user: you cannot tell me that isn’t toto
user: his back bro 🥵
user: what about jensen???? 😭😭😭
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yourusername
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liked by lewishamilton, pierregasly and 678,629 others
yourusername: life lately <33
view 6,510 comments
user: “life lately” and post THE TOTO WOLFF?!! 😮
user: bitcH OMG
user: yn pulls the hottest men ever 😩
↳ user: nah frr — first jensen now toto??
user: idk if i want to be yn or be with her
user: can i be your sugar baby?
mercedesamgf1: finest couple ever! 😮‍💨
↳ user: admin— you’re so real for this omg
↳ user: admin knows what’s up
user: can toto fight?
↳ user: can’t fight for a championship that’s for sure
mercedesamgf1: the boss says you’re gorgeous
↳ user: GIVE THIS PERSON A RAISE FOR THEIR HARD WORK
genpadalecki: wifeee 😍
↳ yourusername: love yaaaaa 🫦
user: nooo, i miss jensen 😭😭
user: i KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT
user: okay but how did toto bag her??? like come on
user: gorgeous ladyyy 😍
ruthie_connell: 😍😍😍
user: nOt pierre being in the likes
↳ user: loves the gossip lmao
jensenackles: @misha @jaredpadalecki told you
↳ user: DAD?!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!!
↳ user: told them what?!!?
↳ yourusername: 😭 leave me alone, i love my chocolate
↳ jaredpadalecki: it’s always the chocolate
↳ genpadecki: chocolate is addicting okay
user: JENSEN COMMENTED?!???
↳ user: glad to know they ended on good terms 😩
user: yn, you’re sooo gorgeous
user: the woman that you are, omggg 😍
user: mother frrr
user: they make such a hot couple
user: yntoto 😮‍💨
user: i just need to know you and jensen are still friends
↳ yourusername: always <3
lewishamilton: gorgeous - toto wolff
lewishamilton: i don’t have instagram - toto wolff
↳ yourusername: text me, love 😘
↳ user: please this is so cute
user: nOt the sign off by toto himself 😭😭
christianhorner: 🫡
2K notes · View notes
prentissluvr · 5 months ago
Text
the language of love isn't dead — dean winchester
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cw : gn!reader, fluff, frenemies to lovers, petty arguments, ft. sam!, dean is annoying obviously <3, reader speaks latin (i used google translate and it is probably very wrong lol), kissing, one mention of a sexual innuendo, a few joking death threats, non-serious mentions of choking, poorly edited, 2.4K words. requested !
summary : you tend to compliment dean in the dead language of latin after fights so that he doesn't know what you really think about him.
MOVED BLOGS TO @sammyluvr !! no longer active on this blog! all fics can be found there!
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“you’re being ridiculous,” you frown at dean, arms crossed against your chest as you stare him down in tonight’s motel room.
“ridiculous?” he parrots, indignant. “this is baby we’re talking about. my car. you know, the ‘67 black chevy impala i would kill a man over?”
“yeah, i know her,” you reply, sarcastic in tone. “and your homicidal tendencies when it comes to her. i’m very familiar, dean.” you roll your eyes at him because you just can’t help it. dean makes it very easy to get annoyed at, for a multitude of reasons.
reason number one, he’s annoying. reason number two, he’s very hot when he’s angry. reason number three, he’s very hot pretty much all the time. it does not help that sam got first dibs on the shower, so he’s still covered in a bit of grime and blood from the hunt you just walked away from. it’s his best look, aside from any time that he smiles.
“well, then you should know that getting her perfectly tended to and polished leather seats dirty with wendy’s barbecue sauce is like a goddamn felony and i should sentence you to life of never even stepping foot near my car again,” he fires back, and if you didn’t know him well, which you do, you’d venture to guess that he’s joking. he’s not.
you groan in frustration. “for the last time, i did not get barbecue sauce on your car seats,” you insist.
“i saw you sneaking fries before we got to the room,” he counters, narrowing his eyes at you. “you could have gotten grease on the leather too.”
“i ate two fries dean, and i was careful. i used a napkin and i did not open my barbecue sauce!” you spit back at him. you can’t believe you’re arguing about this right now. except that it is so believable and so like you and him. it’s not like either one of you is going to back down, certainly not about something so petty and meaningless.
“then how come i found some in the back seat?” he says for what feels like the millionth time.
you throw your hands up in the air. “i don’t know! i don’t even use my barbecue sauce for my fries. there’s no reason for me to have opened it!” you argue, huffing out a frustrated sigh. “and how do you even know it was barbecue sauce?”
“it looked like barbecue sauce, it wasn’t there yesterday, you’re the only one who orders it and the only one who’s sat in the back since then. therefore, barbecue sauce,” he admonishes, crossing his arms over his chest to punctuate his point. you can’t help but laugh at him a little bit. he just sounds so ridiculous.
“well then, let’s say it was barbecue sauce—which it wasn’t. did the leather get damaged?” you ask pointedly.
“that doesn’t matter!” he practically rages, taking a step towards you. god, he’s beautiful and you hate him for it (you really, really love him for it). “what matters is that you got it dirty!”
“jesus, dean! just drop it, your car is fine!” you chastise, your voice raising a little in volume as you take another step towards him. you can see his light freckles better now. they’re so goddamn pretty it makes you want to choke him.
“just drop it?” he repeats, fuming. “i will not ‘just drop it.’ this is about baby. i can’t ‘just drop’ something about baby! how can i even trust you enough to let you in my car again, huh?” this is the point where he’s serious, but not that serious. there’s clear frustration and anger in his voice, but he’s stuck with you and he knows it. and when he asks that final question, his volume lessens and he shrugs. he’s looking for you to grovel or offer something to appease him. the question is whether or not to give him that. your instinct is, of course, to not. you let out a huff of breath.
“well, maybe because i’m excellent company in the car,” you suggest, a gloating tone making its way into your voice. “and i like your music better than sam does. which means we always outnumber him. that’s very important.”
he’s unimpressed, clearly. “you gotta come up with something better than that, sweetheart,” he goads.
you curl your lip at him and roll your eyes. “you absolutely suck, dean,” you state. he raises his eyebrows and you groan and roll your eyes yet again. that’s not the word to use around him unless you want a sexual innuendo thrown in your face. “you are absolutely horrible, dean,” you amend.
he laughs at you and his annoyance mostly subsides. “which means i have no problem getting back at you tenfold for getting goddamn barbecue sauce on my car seat.”
“te respicere bonum cum iratus es, ita dampnas,” you grumble, shaking your head and glaring at him. like tradition, you end the argument with a certain latin phrase full of choice words. 
now dean, sweet, lovely, silly, gorgeous dean, has no idea what you’re saying. he doesn’t care to learn enough latin for that. he doesn’t need to know, he thinks. your tone of voice says it all. he thinks those choice words are the type that one fills an insult with. today you tell him, “you look so damn good when you’re angry.” which, funnily enough, is not an insult.
it’s the perfect way of looking him in the eye and just spitting it out. you get to say without consequence what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling, what you want to tell him so badly. it’s not the same as him knowing, but it helps. it eases your tension until the next time, it softens the blow a little.
sam fails to hold in his laugh behind you. you whirl around and glare at him, freshly dressed and out of the shower. you hadn’t even heard him leave the bathroom. narrowing your eyes at him, you tell your long time best friend, say something and you die. he puts his hands up in surrender, still laughing at you a little.
“shut up,” you grumble, then turn back to dean with a scowl.
“what was that little nerd exchange?” dean teases, realizing sam understood what you said.
“nothing,” you glower. “i’m showering now!” 
dean throws his hands up in protest. “you’re making me shower last after getting barbecue sauce on my car?”
“dean, i swear to the lord in heaven, if you–”
“fine, fine!” he relents, the sarcasm and teasing still clearly present in his voice. “you’re right, you should shower first, you probably have barbecue sauce all over ya.” you raise your fist in a threat and it’s dean’s turn to put his hands up in surrender. “i’m just saying!”
“stop saying!” you groan. “just– stop talking, i’m gonna lose my mind.” if i have to stare at your gorgeous face and listen to your gorgeous voice for another second i will go crazy. you sigh heavily. god, you wonder if you could survive not kissing him. monsters and demons and all the strange shit in the world… that’s fine. it sucks but, jesus, at least you know how to deal with them.
but doing it all with dean? you have no idea how to deal with that. so far, it’s by arguing with him, complimenting him in a dead language, and keeping him at an arm’s length. and so far, it’s not working out too well, because you still want him. you still want him to want you back. you still wish and wish and wish that the language of love isn’t dead, not for you and him, not yet, at least.
maybe the shower will help. this motel doesn’t have the worst showers; the water pressure is decent and the water stays hot for a while longer than some others.
you’re not annoyed when you finish, at least, not about his stupid accusations of you getting condiments on his car seats. unfortunately, you are still annoyed about how attracted you are to him. even more unfortunate, you suppose, is that you’re attracted to him, period.
you sigh because you can’t bring yourself to actually try not to be. not that anyone can reverse feelings, but you let your feelings run rampant, more than you should sometimes. you let him eat away at your heart like a goddman movie zombie that’s too stupid to remember it eats brains. then, you figure that the thought of him eats away at your brain too, because he messes with your rationality sometimes.
his eyes are on you as you leave the bathroom and you wonder if sam’s tattled on you. when you shoot him a look he shrugs and shakes his head. you’re not convinced, but you let it slide. you plop down on the pullout couch bed and pack your old clothes away, ignoring dean’s heavy gaze. only when the door to the bathroom opens and closes do you flop against the bed with a heaving sigh.
“i hate your brother,” you grumble, barely loud enough for sam to hear as the muffled sounds of the shower turning on hits your ears. you turn to your side and curl up, not even bothering to pull the sheet over yourself.
you can’t see sam, but you hear him scoff from his spot on his own bed. “sure you do,” he quips, completely sarcastic.
“no, i really, really do,” you insist, not meaning a word of it.
“well, he hates you too, then,” he answers, voice heavy with implication. you know what he means because he knows what you mean. hate, of course, is love.
“no, he doesn’t,” you counter, sad about it. you bet that no one’s ever sounded so disappointed that someone doesn’t ‘hate’ them.
“you’re hopeless.” sam’s probably shaking his head at you as he reads the words on the book in his lap.
“i’m hopeless,” you sigh.
⟢⟢⟢
it’s not until a few days later that dean confronts you about your little latin digs at him. sam did tattle, only because he’s tired of your pining, but dean won’t tell you that. he’s smart enough to know you’ll end up with your hands around sam’s neck if you end up finding out, and he’s not trying to have his… person strangle his little brother.
“hey, idiot,” he starts, the word layered with affection. “why do you always insult me in latin? sorta feels like you lose the point of insulting someone to their face like that.” 
he’s leaning against the hood of his car, beer in hand like always. it’s oddly uncommon to find yourself like this; outside, alone with him. the motel’s not busy and there are barely any other cars in the parking lot, and even less people. it’s just you and him as far as you can see. the night air is mild, cicadas singing as summer begins to slip away.
“well… maybe the point is that you know i’m saying something about you, but you don’t know what,” you shrug, sort of proud of the smooth answer. you’re not even lying. inside, you’re panicking a bit. this is dangerous territory.
“the stuff you’re saying is that horrible, huh?” his tone suggests a joke. his eyes suggest otherwise. it makes you pause. 
how unfair is it, to the both of you, to lie? to even joke that you’d say such mean things about him? about dean winchester, whom you know sort of hates himself. who has just two people by his side, you and sam.
and you, who only argues with him because it’s easier than being nice. you, who deserves what you want but won’t let yourself even try to have it.
“no,” you sigh out. “i’m not saying horrible stuff about you.” you don’t look at him, you don’t mess around. you take the joking in his voice and strip it away. you take the look in his eyes and put it in yours. it makes him look at you, for once. it’s easy to imagine his eyebrows raising, his lips caught somewhere between his signature smirk and a curious frown. “not in latin, anyways,” you add, letting a huff of laughter leak into your bitter voice.
dean keeps looking at you. you know you’re supposed to explain after saying something like that, but you’d much rather not.
“no?” he asks finally. now you have to say something more.
“no,” you confirm, still staring at the trees across the street instead of him. the street lights are orange in color, and it feels either cruel or hopeful that it’s such a beautiful night. “i… say it in latin because it’s something nice. and you can… ignore this, if you want. i say it in latin because i like you a lot, dean. y’know, more than a stupid, fucking friend.” you roll your eyes a bit, like you’re upset with yourself. then you swallow thickly and ignore the fact that you can see him in your peripheral vision. he doesn’t look like he normally does. he doesn’t look angry.
dean is torn between teasing you and kissing you. you sound mad about the fact that you have feelings for him, like you wish you didn’t. ‘more than a stupid, fucking friend’ is a real funny way to phrase things, if he’s honest with himself. the question is, does he say that to you, or does he look for something better to say? he’s not good with ‘better things to say,’ whatever that might be.
“a little aggressive for a love confession, no?” his voice isn’t even that teasing. it’s sort of gentle. he wants to slap his hand over his mouth for saying that godforsaken four letter word. you had said ‘like.’ it’s freudian slip, he supposes, since he loves you.
“this isn’t funny, dean,” you murmur, voice sort of defeated. and yet, you hear it. it’s not funny to him either. he wasn’t trying to be funny, he was trying not to feel. he was trying to say at least something, because he was having trouble coming up with anything else.
“i know,” he relents. he draws in a deep breath. “will you look at me?” your lips part, then close. you blink a few times. you turn your head and look at him. god, he loves you back. he’s got to, or there’s no other way to explain how he looks at you.
and there’s definitely no other way to explain him kissing you. he looks you right in the eyes and he leans in until his lips are touching yours. 
his eyes flutter closed, yours follow. you kiss him back, he kisses harder. the language of love isn’t dead. all you had to do was say something.
897 notes · View notes
thedensworld · 9 months ago
Text
I Can Fight | J.Ww
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Pairing: Wonwoo x reader
Genre: fluff
Summary: Since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear revealing clothes. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't care.
Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰
It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.
Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.
"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.
As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.
You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?
Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.
As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.
With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.
"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.
"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.
You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.
Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."
A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.
Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."
You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."
"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.
You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."
Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."
A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.
Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.
"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.
Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.
As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.
"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.
You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."
Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."
A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"
Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."
Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.
"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.
A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.
He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.
His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.
***
You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.
His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.
As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.
"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."
Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.
As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.
"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.
A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.
You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.
"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.
You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.
Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.
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figthoughts · 1 month ago
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dean and angel!reader headcanons *°࿐
⭑ when you first met the winchester brothers, dean decided straight away that he didn’t like you. he initially saw you as nothing, but a “self-righteous little feathered nuisance” who didn’t have a clue how the world worked. but as the months passed, he slowly grew fond of you, enjoying your endearing little quirks and the way you were so intrigued by the world around you; he realised you were so much more than just a celestial being. he also loved the way you and castiel would interact like siblings. cas actually played a huge part in helping you bond with both brothers.
⭑ of course his favourite petname for you is angel, but his other favourites include: little bird, dove, birdie & feathers. they started off as a way to mock you initially, but they stuck, and now they’re only said with love. he always enjoys calling you sweet thing, pretty girl, sweetheart, lovebird etc. anything that makes your pretty little face light up.
⭑ dean adores how fascinated you are by the world and by humanity in particular. the way you ask odd little questions and quirk your head as you absorb information. he loves watching things click in your brain and the soft gasp you always expel as you put two ‘n two together in your head.
⭑ his heart continues almost burst every time you make jokes and reference things he’s taught you about— like movies, pop culture moments, music. he finds it so heartwarming because he sees himself reflected in you. he loves that you like what he likes, and that you’ve grown to adapt his sense of humour.
⭑ dean loves how overwhelmed and moved you get by music, especially by sappy poetic songs that he hates. he puts up with your music taste because he loves how your eyes sparkle when you dance and sing along.
⭑ dean just thinks you’re the sweetest little thing. he constantly second guesses himself and wonders why you’re choosing to be with him. he thinks someone as beautiful and as pure as you deserves someone better than him.
⭑ dean noticed early on how you took a liking to certain things like colours, scents, textures. he goes out of his way to pick you little flowers that are your favourite colour or buy you candles with your favourite scent. he also took notice of things you didn’t like, and consequently keeps you from dealing with them— like sticky textures or the feeling of crumbs in his bed (he’s working on that, he swears.)
⭑ dean had to teach you about sleeping when he kept waking up to you sitting on the end of his bed, watching over him as he slept. what he doesn’t know is that most of the time you pretend to sleep. you’d never let him know, but you pretend simply because you enjoy being in his arms overnight. it’s the only time you get to see dean completely unguarded; his features relaxed and his face almost boyish.
⭑ sam watched dean fall in love with you without realising. after months, he had to finally tell dean to make a move. it almost blew dean’s mind when you reciprocated your feelings. he wasn’t used to the warm ‘n fuzzy feelings in his chest, but with you they became natural. a constant. and he wouldn’t have it any other way now.
⭑ dean considers you the light of his life. he’s always making jokes about you being heaven-sent for him. he’s completely enamoured and in love with his little birdie.
⭑ dean had to learn to be patient with how sensitive you can be. as an angel, you always assumed that people were more good than evil, so being on the receiving end of harsh words and treatment used to upset you greatly. dean labelled you a crybaby at the beginning, hating how you’d look so sad and pathetic with your tear-filled eyes. he never understood why your tears made his chest ache, but now he does, and he’s vowed to never make you cry again…. unless it’s out of pleasure that is.
⭑ sex was a tricky subject for you and dean initially. he was cautious and wanted to take things slow— he knew that mentally you were a virgin, so he wanted to be good to you. the first time you went all the way, he immediately knew that there was nobody else for him. the way you looked at him with such trusting soft wide eyes and the way you moaned out his name made his knees weak. he loves seeing your face all blissed out, your neck all marked up and your skin glistening from sweat. your soft little sighs of pleasure make him go truly crazy though.
⭑ you’re very sensitive to the feelings of people around you. dean’s emotions were no different. you saw how closed off he was when it came to his feelings and dealing with things. with gentle prodding and patient kindness, you’ve managed to get him to open up a little— granted it is still a work in progress, but he’s doing better. he trusts you.
⭑ you insist on doing weekly bodily scans for dean— and sam too. you just wanna make sure your boys are healthy. heaven knows how much damage dean’s poor liver takes. a little zip and it’s all better. dean says once a week is “a bit over the top”, but you disagree; you aren’t taking any chances when it comes to your love and his brother. you want them happy, healthy and safe.
⭑ dean loves when you just start rambling and info-dumping about whatever you’ve decided to learn about that day, even if it’s a subject he’s completely uninterested in; if you’re interested, then so is he. he has to stifle a laugh if you get a fact wrong or say something entirely untrue with full confidence. he always just nods along and when you’re done, it’s always “very good, my little lovebird.”
⭑ dean knows you don’t really understand the concept or reasoning of marriage— you’re an angel, why would you? but you’ve come to the conclusion that it’s worth it if it makes dean happy… and you’re not entirely opposed to becoming mrs. winchester or being bound to him officially.
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A/N: are these too specific?? idk but dare i say angel!reader is neurodivergent coded??? i think yes!! anyways i’m lowkey sick as hell rn and this is poorly written ofc but enjoyyy <3
feedback and reblogs are welcome !!! <3
✩ taglist: @chevroletdean @fitxgrld @jasvtsc @bluestrd @1-imbroglio @titsout4nicholas @faithfulsofi @tortureddarkstar @abellmunsonmovie @atenea585 @manicjk @aileenunfiltered @minettacreekk @jackleslvr @winchester-whiskey @artyandink @emeraldcrs @freyabear @a1ecmcdowell @cosmopolitan-thedrink @jwritestuff @suhnisideup @spookyysinsanity @kimxwinchester @bleuatlas @deansbbyx @angelicjackles @cosmicanakin @artemys-ackles @deanswidow @psychicnatural @ghostlyaccurate @k-slla
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waynes-multiverse · 10 months ago
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Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY
Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH
A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)
Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)
Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles
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Cruel Summer
“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”
As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.
But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.
“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.
Painfully hard.
“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.
“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.
“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”
Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.
Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.
I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.
Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.
Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.
Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.
On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.
A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.
But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.
Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.
Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.
“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.
What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.
A hunter gathering panties.
“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.
You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”
“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”
It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.
“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.
The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.
Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:
I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.
You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.
So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.
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Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.
Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.
It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.
With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.
As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.
Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.
So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…
“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.
“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”
You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.
“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”
Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”
You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”
“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.
“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.
“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”
“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”
“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”
“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.
Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”
But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.
“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”
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Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.
The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.
If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.
As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.
With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.
His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.
As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.
God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.
“Dean?!”
The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.
“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.
“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.
Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”
“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”
“Right, uhm…”
“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.
You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.
“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.
Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”
As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”
“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”
“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”
That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.
“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.
Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.
And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.
Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.
“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”
“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.
“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.
Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.
With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.
“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”
You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.
“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.
He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”
“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”
As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”
The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”
“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”
You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”
“Well, uhm…”
Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.
“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”
“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.
“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.
“You can do that,” you said with a smile.
“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”
You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”
Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.
“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.
You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”
“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.
“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”
“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.
He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.
You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.
“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”
Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”
Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.
With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.
“Hop on, sweetheart.”
And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.
Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.
The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).
And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.
As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.
With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.
His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.
Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.
You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.
As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.
“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.
Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”
Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?
But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”
You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.
“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.
You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”
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Was it worth the words? 😝
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vnti-vnxiety-recs · 10 months ago
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PAGES OF A HEART (M)
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★  PAIRING: HockeyPlayer! Haechan x reader
☆ WORD COUNT: 9k
★ GENRE(S): strangers to lovers, Hate to love, Smut
☆ SUMMARY: You have been begging your campus librarian to let you join the staff for ages, but when she finally lets you on, you’re disappointed to find out that the campus’s star hockey player also joins. Can the two of you work things out after a rough start?
★ ☆ WARNINGS: Sexual intercourse, Unprotected sex, 
☆★ NOTES: Wrap it before you tap it. This was supposed to be fluff but I was weak and had to do hate to lovers. Like lol, I bet no one can guess my favorite trope! Bickering is my love language ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Leave nice comments, please <3 
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Peace, escapism, and silence.
That is what you usually find when you go to the library. You love going to the library, whether it be to study, read or just get away from your normally hectic dorm. Today is different, though; today you will find all of those things and more. 
When you walk into the library, you greet Mrs. Lee as normal. She was the sole staff member of your college's small, cozy library. Mrs. Lee takes immense pride in her job and refuses to work with anyone else. She is very particular about the upkeep of the books, and honestly, you love her for that. The books stay in pristine condition thanks to her care. Even the dean has acknowledged her efforts. Ever since she took over the library, the campus has had to spend less money on maintenance, so he doesn't feel the need pressure her to hire more staff.
The only downside is that if Mrs. Lee gets sick, they’ll have to close the library since there is no one else to run it. Luckily, that hasn't happened yet, but you've made it your life mission to make sure it never does. You love going to the library, and you have been trying to convince her for months to let you join the staff. You weren't even asking for full-time, just maybe on the days she wanted to take some time off. You think you’re making progress; she gave you a “maybe” last week instead of a flat-out no.
You make your way to your favorite spot in the library before someone else gets to it. Normally, you arrive at the library as soon as it opens every day to secure your preferred spot. It's a little overkill because not many students wake up at 7 to make it to the library, but it was close to finals, so you wouldn't be surprised to see a few faces. Today you were only 5 minutes later than usual, but it seems that's all it took. 
Right there, sitting in the nook at the large window in the back corner of the library, is the prettiest man you have ever laid eyes on. The morning light shone over his tan skin like it was honey. His cute, plump lips blow at the messy hair that hangs in his eyes. He shifted his soft brown hair back with his hand before flipping to the next page in his book. 
Speechless.
You couldn't do anything but gawk at the man who sat in your designated seat. Normally, you would have passive-aggressively walked by the person, giving them an evil look, on your way to find somewhere else to sit, but you couldn't even manage that. You were expecting him to catch you with your mouth hanging open, but you caught yourself off guard with what you did next. 
He's struggling again to brush his hair out of his face, and you can't take it anymore. Your feet move before you can think and your hands are not to far behind as they dig in your bag for your spare headband. You kept one of those soft, stretchy headbands in your bag just in case you wanted to keep your hair out of your face.
In just a quick few steps, your standing in front of him, hand outstretched, offering up your headband. When he looks up at you, your breath almost catches. He is so freaking handsome. Before, it was impossible to notice, but his face and neck are covered in the most beautiful beauty marks, resembling stars. Up close, his lips appear soft, and he looks at you with the roundest doe eyes. You will not have this fine man thinking Your a weirdo So you force the air back into your lungs and speak to him.
“I'm sorry, I just thought you might want this... for your hair,” you say awkwardly. 
"Thank you; my coach keeps telling me I should cut it," he says with a soft smile, taking the headband from you. Placing the book down, he raises his hair out of his eyes with the headband. He had such a beautiful face that it should have been illegal for his hair to ever cover it up. You steal a quick peek at the book he was reading while he occupies himself with that. 
Oh Lord, you might actually be in love. He was reading a book by one of your favorite authors. The book he was reading was the final installment in a series you have been reading since high school. The book was actually just published a few months ago. You try so hard not to look like a fangirl, but you figure since he's reading it, he'll understand.
“Oh my God, is that midnight’s crossing? I just finished that book last week. The series is so good I love Vora; she's one of my favorite characters! She had such a well-written character arc in the second book.” You gush on about the book. You don't want to sound like your rambling so you cut your rant short. His soft smile makes you feel comfortable and you return it shyly.
“Yeah, I actually only just picked up the series recently. Normally, I don't have much time to read but I couldnt put the book down. I read the first three books in one month.” Clearly more interested in the conversation than you had initially assumed, he sits up a little straighter. “Vora was an alright character, but I think Theo is a more interesting character. I think that's why I'm really enjoying this book because it centers more on his backstory.” 
Theo!? Maybe your not so in love. Theo wasn't a terrible character, but he was definitely written to appeal to a male audience. Theo’s character was your typical macho man; you didn't really care that much for his story line. 
The poor guy doesn't even know his favorite character was going to get killed off in this book. One would think he would have noticed how strange it was that a minor supporting character would suddenly have a backstory in the series' final book. You had seen this pattern before, and it usually ended up in a character's death
“Theo’s alright,” you say. “He's gonna get a crazy fight sequence near the end.” 
His face lights up, and he shows you a beautiful, toothy grin. “really!? I can't wait; I've been waiting on them to give him a good fight!” 
You almost feel bad for…..”What was your name?”
“Haechan, and you?”
You tell him your name and let him get back to his book. He would soon find out that Theo's grand battle would be his last, and you did not want to stick around for that. It was a small prank in good fun. Sure, he was insanely handsome, but he stole your favorite spot. Not to mention, he thinks your favorite character is mid. You go find another corner and crack open your own book. You read for about 2 hours before you have to scurry off to your morning classes
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Wood, leather, ink, and coffee
That's what you smell when you walk into the library saturday morning. You love the smell of the library. It's so earthy and cozy that you can't help but feel at home in the confines of its four walls. 
You got side tracked yesterday but today would be different. Today you were certain you would convince Mrs.Lee to let you check out books on the other side of the counter for once. You stroll in on time, no later than 7 a.m., and march your way over to her desk. 
Before you can even open your mouth to do your weekly pleading, she beats you to it.
“Yes! You can help out!” She huffs exasperatedly. “I only have so many years left to live, and each day you bother me, it's like I'm wasting my last precious moments.” 
Geez, you didn't think you got under Mrs. Lee’s skin that badly. Oh well, it paid off in the end! You were official! You were the only other staff member in the library. You felt so honored; you earned this!
“I would be more than happy, Mrs. Lee! I’ve been waiting for this for months. I won't let you down!” You beam.
Mrs. Lee gives you a warm smile and places a congratulatory hand on your shoulder. “I've been thinking about what you said, and you’re right. I can't stay cooped up in this library forever. I want to start a garden at home, but I’ve never had the time.” 
“That's great! I hope all goes well!” You encourage the older women. "So, when do I start?”
“In just a few moments, actually. I'll need to show you guys around the staff room and  how I like things organized,” she sighs, getting her pen and clipboard ready.
“You guys?” You question. You are praying you heard her incorrectly. Who else could Mrs. Lee trust enough to help run the library? Hell, as far as you knew, she only ever spoke to you! 
"Yes, we have another person joining us this morning. My grandson needs some extra credit, so I agreed to sign off on it if he helped out around here.” 
"So, where is he?” You ask
“Should be here soon; I told him I'd make his coach bench him if he were late,” she grits her teeth in annoyance. 
Like clockwork, the doors to the library open, and there he is, just a few feet away from the main desk.
“Theo!?” you say in shock
“Theo? No, That's my grandson” Mrs. Lee corrects 
“Its Haechan, and your a liar,” he corrects bitterly. 
Welp…It looks like He finished the book
“i didn't lie! He fought valiantly! ” You argue,
“He died!” he quips back, rolling his eyes as he makes his way to the counter. He slings his backpack on the surface and props himself up against it,leaning across to scowl in your face.
"Well, maybe if he—” you continue, but Mrs. Lee interrupts you.
“Children please! Goodness gracious, act your age and cut this out!” She exclaimed in disappointment. “We have far too many things to cover”
“Yes Mrs.lee”
“Yes grandma”
She gives him a stern look and he straightness himself immediately “Yes, mrs.lee”
Mrs. Lee showed you two around the library and the staff room before she went on a long-hour rant explaining exactly how she wanted the books to be organized and cared for. You listened intently and took notes. You would sneek peaks at Haechan from time to time, and he just stood there, nodding along to everything she said. No way was he listening! The stupid jock doesn't belong here! What sport did he even play? He was too handsome to be put out on a field! You were half way through cooking a plan to find his coach and giving them a piece of your mind for potentially ruining such a beautiful face, but then you realized you were supposed to be upset at him.
“are you even listening?” you whisper once Mrs Lee has her back turned. 
“Mind your business, Vora!” He says it with a lazy roll of his eyes. “You know, that's probably why you like her so much; she's so holier than thou. You must think your so righteous.” He slanders you.
Your forehead creases in aggravation. “Yeah, says the Theo simp! He's such a meathead; all he can think of is fighting, which is exactly why he ended up dead!” you spit back.
He opens his mouth to challenge you, but Mrs. Lee turns around before he can.
“Alright, I think that's everything, kids. Did I go to fast? Were you able to understand me? Maybe I should explain. It's one more time-”
“NO!” You both yell in unison.
“We got it, Mrs. Lee; seriously, I promise.” You smile confidently at her.
“ok then. Well, I'll head out early today and leave the rest up to you. I'll come back later to see how your doing.”
You try to stay positive. This wouldn't be so bad, right?
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It's not that bad. If you call two hours of complete silence “not that bad,”
You did not expect your relationship with the cute boy who first caught your eye to turn out like this. You felt bad; Haechan did nothing wrong to you. His only crime was relating to a character that you were almost certain was written as satire. And trash-talk your favorite character. And stealing your favorite spot in the library that one time....ok maybe he had a few crimes under his belt, but they were nothing too serious.
Other than the egregious silence, things were going smoothly. You thought he wasn't paying attention, but you soon found out he was paying attention even more than you. You are honestly grateful that he was here; otherwise, you would have been stuck with a very angry Mrs. Lee lecturing you for two hours on not properly shelving the books. 
"Look, I'm sorry ok? This silence is driving me crazy. Can't we put this behind us?” You crack.
“You started it, princess.”
"Oh, that's really mature of you to point fingers,” you say, rolling your eyes.
“What, then is it my fault? I just wanted to enjoy my book.” Haechan glares at you.
He had a point. You two had started off fine until you started bagging on his favorite character. 
“Hey, I'm trying to do the mature thing and apologize; work with me here,” you say while organizing the checked-in books and preparing them for Haechan to shelve later. You figured he was a little better at that than you were, so you allowed him to fully take over the duty.
He looks up from his spot at the computer. He was fulfilling a request from a student to have a book ordered over from a different campus.
Haechan hits the submit button and sighs. “If we’re going to get through this, we're going to have to at least tolerate each other,” Haechan says.
“Fake besties in front of Mrs. Lee?” You suggest and hold a hand out in a truce.
He shakes your hand in return and gives you a devilish smile. “Don’t let me catch you on campus princess”
“Wouldn't count on it.” 
Sure, technically, you two didn't completely make up, but at least you made progress. At least the tension is alleviated. Sure, you could stick your nose in a book and ignore each other for your entire shift, but Mrs. Lee would kill you if she caught you slacking off. Making small talk with Haechan was the only way to make it through the day. Not to mention you enjoy watching the way he tilts his head in annoyance, tongue in cheek, when you ask him a million questions to pass the time.
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“YOU GET TO SPEND TIME WITH THE LEE HAECHAN!? GOALIE OF THE NEO HOCKEY TEAM?” your roommate raves. “AND YOUR ONLY TELLING ME THIS NOW!”
“Jeez Rina I didn't think it was that big of a deal? Plus, it's only been a week,” you say. 
You were lounging around your dorm room when you explained your recent absence to your roommate. She was hounding you for details on where you had been. She assumed you were off sleeping around, but unfortunately for her and her everlasting need for drama, you've been spending time taking care of the library. You didn't think she would get that much entertainment out of it until you made the mistake of mentioning Haechan.
“Yea right! Every girl on campus has their eye on him! He's one of the star players! All he ever has time for is practice! and now apparently, library dates.” she adds.
“They are NOT dates. We can barely stand each other.” you argue. You lay on the old spring mattress and look up at the ceiling 
You didn't know he was such a big deal. Sure, he was handsome, so you assumed he was pretty popular, but this was a different ballpark. 
“I have seriously never seen him anywhere off the ice; how are you getting him all alone? Come on, tell me your secrets,” she pries. She probably thinks there's something going on, but you swear up and down there isn't.
“His grandma is making him help out around the library. Something about him needing extra credit or something? I don't know, but you're giving me a headache.” You didn't want to think about it. 
No wonder the man had such an ego. A Star hockey player? What was he even doing in the library? You had a million more questions you wanted to ask him next time you saw him
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Today Haechan was forcing you to help him shelve the books. You usually just leave him to do it, but you guys had a few carts full of returned books that needed shelving. You two were towards the back of the library, finishing up the last of the books, when he decided to press your buttons. 
You see, you and Haechan were on better terms than when you first started, but you two are still at odds on occasion. There was definitely still tension as you went at each other's throats.
“Isn’t it kind of sad to spend all your time at the library? You don’t have any friends?” He says.
“This is fun for me,” you explain simply.
“This is fun?” He asks.
“What do you consider ‘fun’?” You ask. “Don’t you play sports? What's fun about chasing a ball?” You ask.
"Its hockey,” he corrects, shelving another book. 
“Oh? And somehow you can read?”
He turns to you slowly, and you can practically feel the frustration rolling off of him.
“I know your only friends are the characters in your little books, but real people have hobbies. Find one and leave me alone.” he says
You had about thirty minutes before Mrs. Lee came back to check on you two, and you had a few things you wanted to get off your chest.
“Yeah, like your real hobby isn’t getting a puck knocked into your numb skull? Tell me Haechan, what do your teammates think of you spending time with your nose stuck in a book instead of being on the ice?” 
“Go fuck Yourself”
“Only if you watch me” You grin back at him smugly.
He licks his teeth, sends you a devilish smile in disbelief, and leans down to meet your eyes.
“You are so lucky my grandma likes you.”
“Or what?” you ask, taking a teasing step back. You knew what game you wanted to play. You weren't just some bookworm; you were a cat, and Haechan was a mouse that you were dying to play with.
He takes another step towards you, almost closing the distance between you, but stops short when he hears the sharp click of heels walking towards you two.
“Smile and play nice,” he grits out with a plastic smile before turning to face his grandma.
“Oh my, nice work, you two! It looks like everything's been put up properly,” she says as she runs her hands along the spines of a few books, checking that the author's names are in alphabetical order. “You seem to be getting along just fine too! How sweet!” 
“Couldn't be any happier to work with uh…her” Haechan feigns like he forgot your name.
You know that Dipshit didn't forget your name; he just wanted to piss you off. Play nice, my ass.
"Yes, Mrs.Lee Haechan has been doing a wonderful job. I think he really deserves that extra credit.” 
He looks suspiciously at you.
“Oh yes, I think so too dear, but I wouldn't want to leave you here all day by yourself. We can still use him for a little while longer”
The realization hit him a beat later. You figured if you told his grandma how good he's doing, she would give him the extra credit already, and then he would have no reason to stick around. 
“I do wish I could tell his coach how well he's doing on his extra credit. I’ve just been so busy these days,” Mrs.Lee says.
It had taken some time, but you had finally put it together. He was doing this so he could play in the upcoming season! He must have been benched due to not passing a class; now he was stuck here doing extra credit. That explains the extra free time he has and why he's not on the ice as much.
No pass, no play.
"Well, Mrs. Lee, I can always send a message to his coach for you?” You offer.
"Well, that would be perfect, sweetheart. Here, I have some things in my office that I want you to take to him when you get a chance. Come now,” she waves you over as she shuffles excitedly to her office.
You follow behind her closely and send a quick grin over your shoulder at Haechan's stunned shock. You were playing a dangerous game with him. No one comes between him and the ice.
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Did you want to end up in an all-out war with the Neo's goalie? Absolutely not, but that's exactly how the last few days have played out. Coach Choi wouldn’t be back on campus until Friday, so you had a few days to hang Haechan's fate over his head.
“Just wait until Mr. Choi finds out you called me a bitch” You would say when he was mean to you.
“You think Mr. Choi will let you play if he finds out your trying to skip out on library duty to go party?” You told him one day when he came to you asking to cover a shift for him.
If Haechan heard you say Mr. Choi one more time, he was going to lose it. First of all, it was Coach Choi, and he was sure his coach was still going to let him play; he was one of their star players. Haechan wasn't going to just sit back and let you bully him; he had a few tricks up his sleeves too.
“Grandma, I mean Mrs.Lee I brought you some fresh fruit; you can eat it with the tea I made you,” he says sweetly to his grandmother. 
“Oh, what a sweet boy! I knew working at this library would do you some good,” she gushes over him. 
She has been raving about her adorable grandson and how wonderful he was for the entire week. You knew it was all an act. He knew the most important thing to you was being Mrs. Lee's favorite.
For every “Mr.Choi” you threw at him, he would get a “sweet boy” from Mrs. Lee in return.
It didn't end there, though. Some of the Neo's are popping in more frequently now. It had been almost every day now that your favorite spot was occupied by some stupid, hocky jock with a pretty girl sitting on his lap. You had been looking forward to spending all day in your favorite nook after Mrs. Lee told you she only needed Haechan for the day. Now, as you shuffle around the tall bookcases of the library looking for a new spot, Haechan just smiles at you from over the counter.
Taking Mrs. Lee's praise was one thing, but desecrating your favorite spot with smelly hockey gear was another.
"Who stocked the books last?" Mrs. Lee calls out after doing her end-of-shift walk-through. She still didn't fully trust you and Haechan, so she would always walk through after you were done for the day.
"I just finished stocking them a few minutes ago," Haechan replies from the computer behind the counter. Somehow, he was able to run DOOM on the outdated computer system.
"I must be too lenient with you these days; you're making mistakes. I think you need more time with the book to learn their proper place!" She scolds
"What are you talking about I—"
"You shelved a book that hasn't been checked back in! I have been looking for this book all week! It was only thanks to Y/N that I found it" She finishes, waiving around a copy of Macbeth.
"I definitely checked that in!"
"No excuses! You're working the library all week by yourself if you still want that extra credit," she finalizes. All you can do is grin over her shoulder as he sends you a death glare.
Today was Friday meaning, all the fun was soon to be over. Haechan was let off easy, he was supposed to work today. Mrs. Lee wanted the library to herself today; she said she missed the smell of the books. You hope you didn't have to run into him, you had to focus on your meeting with Mr. Choi today.
It was midday when you decided to finally make your way over to the gym. You pull your jacket on, knowing it would be cold where you were going. As much as you tease him, you weren't actually going to say anything bad about Haechan to his coach. As much as you hate to admit it, you did believe he deserved that extra credit. He had been doing a really good job in the library. 
You finally reach your destination and push open the polished white doors to the gym. It was like the building was brand new; everything looked pristine. You were jealous that this was where all the school funding was going and not to the poor library, which could definitely use a remodeling. You shake the thought from your head and you walk further into the building.
In the center of the building was a huge ice rink, and surrounding it were cushined stands that almost reached the ceiling. Massive. That's all you could think of when you took in the scenery.
You snap out of your dazed state and scan the arena. You see movement on the ice and notice a blur of messy hair and tan skin effortlessly making its way across the ice. 
Haechan was running drills up and down the ice, maneuvering his puck in and out of obstacles cleanly. 
You make your way closer to him, and he's so focused that he doesn't notice you yet. Now that your up close, you can see the sweat as it glistens on his skin and drips down his neck. Man's was putting in work on that ice, and you immediately felt bad for trashing it before. This was Haechan's craft, and you could see just how much he cared for it. 
“I thought you were the goalie?” 
He skits to a stop and turns to your voice, confused. Once he realizes it's you, he squints his eyes suspiciously at you.
“Here to snitch to coach?”
“Humor me, and you’ll find out,” you smile.
He skates over to you and collides heavily with the barrier dividing you, making you jump. “I am the goalie; you know I'm the goalie.” He answers
“I thought you could only stay in the net, though?” You ask curiously 
"Technically, I can play outside of my net; I just can't cross the center line. "It would be stupid of me to play to far from the goal. These exercises are just for practice.”
"Where is everyone else?”
“Teams pissed I'm benched, so they won't play the ice with me until I'm officially back in the game,” he shrugs, but they can help him torment you throughout the week? Some team he's got.
"I don't understand men," you say, rolling your eyes.
“Its called tough love babe, you get it,” he teases. You fake punch him through the plexiglass, and he flinches jokingly. 
“You wish,” you mumble.
A comfortable silence settles as you just stare at each other with hesitant smiles gracing your lips, replacing the usual scowls.
“Why not help me out?”He asks
“With what?”
“Practice with me.”
“You want me?  on ice? I don't think so,” you laugh.
"Oh come on, Ice Princess afraid of a little cold? What happened to all that bite you had before? Afraid you'll lose some of the few brain cells you have?”
Oh he was so on.
He takes you into the storage room and helps you fit some spare skates onto your feet. He shoves a hockey stick into your arms and helps you back onto the ice. 
Oh it was so over
You felt ridiculous. You had no idea how to hold the hockey stick and you could barely stand on the ice. You figured Haechan must be getting a kick out of watching you struggle, but once you look up from watching your every step, you find nothing but worry in his eyes.
“Be careful not to fall; it's easy to bruise on the ice,” he warns gently as he skates circles around you, literally and hypothetically.
“I don't need your help; I can figure it out on my own,” you grumble And take a brave step forward. 
You knew the basics of ice skating, but that was just it; you knew it. Actually, putting it into action was a lot harder than you thought. You knew you were supposed to bend your knees, make a V shape with your feet, and lean forward slightly. That was the easy part, but actually moving? Not computing. 
You hear a soft chuckle behind you, and you throw a glare over your shoulder. 
“Let me help you,” Haechan laughs lightheartedly “can't help me practice if you can't skate dummy.” 
"This was your idea" You remind him
He glides over to you and hovers his hand on the middle of your back. Not fully touching you, but close enough, you know that he's there if you fall. You feel a bit more confident with him there, and you take your first step. You stumble immediately, but he's right there to catch you. He helps you right yourself and moves to skate in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them steadily.
“The issue is that your taking steps; don't try to walk on the ice; push off and glide,” he explains. 
You follow his lead as he skates backwards. You stumble a few more times but your starting to find the rhythm to it. You can't help but smile excitedly at him. When you try to jump with joy, you immediately slip and fall. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact of the cold, wet ice, but instead collide with a firm chest. You had fallen forward into Haechan's arms, and when you lifted your head up, you found yourself a breath away from his face. You can literally see your breath mingling in the cold air of the rink.
Time is frozen, and neither of you moves as you watch each other, waiting for the other to make a move. You lick your lips, and you can feel his grasp on your waist tighten at the sight.  
“Can I ki-”
SLAM. The sound of a door echoes through the building as footsteps follow. You and Haechan part immediately, and you turned towards the source of the noise.
It was Mr. Choi, the exact reason you were here in the first place. It looked like he was leaving for the day. You really needed to talk to him and give him the things Mrs. Lee wanted you to.
“Oh! Mr. Choi, excuse me!” You call out to him and shuffle as best you can across the ice. Before you can even stumble, you feel an arm encircle your waist as they guide you across the ice, smoothly pulling you along. 
 You finally make it off the ice and waddle towards him. awkwardly hanging on to the  gaurd rail with the skates still on your feet. 
“Mr.choi Just. A moment.”
He finally turns to look at you and raises an eyebrow
“Mrs. Lee sent me; she wanted to go over Haechan’s progress with the extra credit but she's been too busy to come here herself,” you explain, a little out of breath.
The coach takes one look at your exhausted form and then at haechan before letting out a sigh.
“Follow me to my office,” he says, walking back the way he came.
You make your way to the nearest bench and down. You rid yourself of the deadly contraption on your feet. You grab your things and send Haechan a final smile. His eyes are glued to you as he circles the ice watching as you following Mr. Choi. You enter through the door you saw him walk through; it seems like the office is located in the locker room. You find the coach seated in his office, near the back of the locker room. As much as Haechan bothered you, he deserved his praise. You relay your report and don’t forget to give him the things Mrs. Lee had for him. 
“I'm happy to hear he's not causing any trouble for you”
“Of course not”
"please save me TT," you cry from inside.
"Well, keep me updated if anything changes; I know he can be a handful sometimes”
You smile at the comment and nod “I'll see you around, Mr.Choi.”
“Just call me Coach.” He corrects.
“Right,” you smile.
You stroll out and look over at the ice to find Haechan running his exercises again. He looks at you expectantly as he skates the ice skillfully.
“You'll find out soon,” you say, answering his silent question.
You heard the door open and close again, and Coach Choi appeared to have followed closely behind. Haechan gets called over, and you take this as your cue to leave the two alone. Hopefully he remembers your kindness and you can finally call a truce on this petty war.
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Over next few days, things have been going great between you two. You were actually starting to enjoy Haechan's company. After giving good feedback to his coach, he decided you weren’t too bad. The time spent in the library together is filled with small laughs and light jokes at first, but as you two finally break from your apprehensive shell, you find yourselves completely opening up and letting your guard down.
Outside of the library, he's been teaching you how to skate, and you have been seeing more and more progress. You two even started buddy reading. This is how it should have been from the beginning. You didn't realize how much you wanted to get close to him until you finally did. 
You were currently on the rink with Haechan as you skated alongside him. You would follow behind him as he practiced and you would read aloud for him. Recently, he hadn't had time to read. His coach was pushing him to practice more as the season approached, so you read for him to ensure he didn't fall behind
You finish off a chapter and close the book. “how are we feeling about this chapter” 
“Too short; I feel like not much happened in this chapter,” he comments.
“I could read another if you like?” 
“Nah, I'm almost done,” he says as he comes to a stop to catch his breath. “lets wrap up”
You nod and make your way off the ice.
You busy yourself with untying your skates and haechan sits down next to you to untie his.
“when I'm back on the ice, are you gonna come watch me play?” he asks
Your wanted to answer right away but you find your mind wandering back to your conversation with your roommate all those weeks ago. Haechan was the hotshot player, who knew what kind of rumors would spread if you came to the game to support him
“I'm not really a hockey fan,” you say. It was true; you don't really follow sports.
“you wouldn't be my fan?” he teases
“especially not yours,” you joke back
“Seriously, it would mean a lot to me”
“when did you start caring about being seen with me?”
“since you stopped being annoying,”
Point taken.
“I'll think about it,” you say before you stand. Your make your way out and call over your shoulder, “don't fall behind on your chapters; I won't be able to read to you once they take you off the bench”
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Mrs. Lee had finally concluded his extra credit, and once it was reported to his professor, his grade was updated, and he was good to play again. Of course, Mrs. Lee extended him the opportunity to continue working at the library, and when Haechan says he'll make time to stop by and see you, you believe him.
That was a mistake
It was stupid of you to think Haechan actually cared about spending time with you in the library. Once he was cleared to play, he put all his time back on the ice. 
If you crossed paths on campus, he would smile and wave, but there was nothing much outside of that. So what was all this for? Were you just there to help him kill time until he was back with his beloved team? You admit you started off really rocky, so you wouldn't put it past him, but lately you felt as though you really grew as friends. 
You knew how much the sport meant to him, but you couldn’t stop the hurt that followed. You were only human after all, and humans made stupid decisions.
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It was finally the night of the first game of the season, and you sat in the stands as you watched the game unfold. Maybe Haechan was right to be cocky; he was really good at defending. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. The away team was down 15 points, and the game was coming to an end. If the team was good enough, they might have been able to turn the tables in the last quarter, but that doesn't happen as Haechan blocks almost every shot they attempt. He was quick and used his entire body to block his opponents shots. You had never seen him so focused before.
The buzzer sounds, and the crowd cheers. You come down the stands to give your congratulations. Haechan spots you as you approach and gives you a smile, opening his arms for a hug.
You weren't here for him.
You walk right past him and hug his teammate, Jeno. You had been getting closer with Jeno over the last few weeks. You had checked out a book for him one day and even helped him study it for his history class. You two have been talking ever since. Haechan's smile fell immediately. You wish you could have captured the look on his face. 
“Are you coming over to celebrate?” Jeno asks
“Of course I'll wait for you, ok?” You say and hug him tighter.
Haechan remains motionless, his face full of confusion and anger.
Jeno leaves you and heads back into the locker room.
Most of the team had started to head back already, and someone clapped a hand over Haechan's shoulder, dragging him back to the locker room and rambling in his ear about the amazing plays from that night's game. Haechan can't seem to pay attention, focusing solely on you and the sly smile that graces your lips.
You were honestly impressed by how quickly Haechan changed clothes. He was only in the locker room for about 5 minutes, and when he storms over to you, you can tell he skipped the shower.
“Jeno? Really? You're better than that,��� he says, tongue in cheek. 
“Don't start; he's actually really sweet. What do you even care? You won the game, right? That's all you care about.” 
“I see what this is,” he says with a smile “your upset that I didn't make time for you and our little book dates, is that it?” 
“They were not dates,” you correct him 
“Could have fooled me. I see the way you watch me instead of the pages,” he counters
“Oh my god, you're so full of yourself." You say but don't deny his claims. "I thought we were past this.”
“You’re one to talk; your literally using Jeno to get back at me!”
“How can I get back at you if you don't like me? Why do you care so much?” You argue. “Admit it, you have a thing for me” 
He takes a step closer, invading on your personal space, and you can tell by the expression in his eye that he was about to say something devious, but Jeno interrupts you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.
"Nu-uh, she's mine tonight; back off,” Jeno jokes, whisking you away from the tension you and Haechan created. As you walk away with Jeno, you have a chance to look over your shoulder and catch Haechan's eyes. He gives you a look, but you're unsure what it reads as? You’re too far away to see, but it looks like hurt?
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Jeno drives you back to his place; apparently,  the party was at the grand house that most of the team stays in. Most of the team stays together while others live on their own, but all the celebratory parties happen at the big house. You wonder if Haechan stayed here too? You shake the thought from your head. You would not think about him tonight; you had a point to prove.
Once you make it to the house, you notice most of the team is still setting up and getting ready. A few people were early, and they were mostly chatting out back on the deck. You follow Jeno up to his room and he changes into something more comfortable than the practice clothes he had thrown on after the game. You give your opinions on a few of the shirts he tries on and you find that its really easy to talk to him. He was super laid back and you could see yourself becoming really good friends with him.
“You and Haechan, huh?” He asks as he picks over a few chains to match his outfit.
“No, its not like that,” you say, rolling your eyes “Try that gold one on,” You point to the heavy chain sitting on his dresser. 
“The whole team knows something is up. You even practice with him sometimes.” Jeno says as he clips the chain behind his neck and adjusts it in a mirror. 
Your lying on his bed as you absent-mindedly scroll through your phone. "Hmm, not that one. I think silver would match better actually.” You avoid being put on the spot.
“Make up your mind,” Jeno groans, taking the chain off “I know your only here with me to make him jealous, so if you want my help, you could at least be honest.”
You look over his outfit again and give him a flirty smile “Who says I'm not? You look good. Maybe I want to try you?” 
He smirks and crawls over to you on the bed. He pins you down under him and kisses your neck. “You’re not fooling anyone, but who says we can't have a little fun” He teases and caresses your sides. You think he's going to take it farther, but he parts from you and goes back to his closet to find his shoes.
“Just kidding doll, he's my teammate. Even though you can’t see it, I do. He likes you,” he concludes.
You watch him put on his shoes and sigh. Haechan was ruining your chances of getting good dick now too? “You still gonna help me get back at him, right?” you ask.
“Oh definitely, he deserves a little tormenting,” Jeno says as he finishes putting together his outfit “He ate my leftover Kimchi Jjigae, so he's got it coming.”
You laugh and haul yourself from his sheets, joining his side as you both walk down to the party.
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When you both enter the stairway, the music hits you, and you can practically feel the bass of the music shake your bones. Any more small talk was clearly out of the question, and you were grateful. You were not in the mood for any of Jeno's twenty-one questions regarding your feelings for Haechan. You doubted you would hear him even if he spoke right into your ear. He leads you to the main floor, and the house is packed. While he waves and greets a few of his friends, you rake your eyes across the crowd to see if you can find Haechan. There has been no sight of him so far. 
You make your way to the kitchen and find the drinks. You still hated the way hard  liquor burns as it goes down and settles for a mixed drink. You stick close to Jeno, hoping Haechan would find you hanging off his teammates shoulders, but you still haven't seen him.
It wasn't until about an hour into the party that you saw him. Honestly, after your second drink, you had already forgotten you were even looking for him as you began to have genuine fun with Jeno. He held you close as you danced on the floor. Although you were both past tipsy, you were not quite drunk. Jeno's chest was against your back as you rocked back and forth to the beat, his head nestled in your neck. 
Haechan had just come down the stairs; you figured he must have been hiding away in his room until this point. He locks eyes with you as your figure becomes entwined with Jeno's. Jeno peppers a few kisses against your skin, and you can practically see Haechan's breath catch in his throat as his face heats up in anger.
You smile in victory and you think he's seconds away from dragging you off the floor but he surprises you. He pushes through the crowd, but he doesn't come toward you at all. He angrily makes his way through the front door, slamming it behind him. 
You pull away from Jeno’s embrace, suddenly ashamed. "I don't think this is working” 
Jeno can't hear anything your saying, so he just screams, “HUH? WHAT?” loudly in your face. 
“I”M LEAVING,” you try to communicate through gestures.
“SHOULD I GO WITH YOU?” he asks, finally able to understand you
“NO IM FINE,” you make an x motion with your arms to tell him no and you point behind you, “GOTTA GO, BYE”  
You leave him in the crowd, and you figure he'll be okay because, when you turn around to spare him one last look, some other girl was quick to take your spot. 
You rush through the bodies of people and make it outside. There were a few people leaning against cars or huddled in groups chatting with friends, but they paid you no mind as you walked down the sidewalk, following a familiar figure that was a few meters ahead of you. 
He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stormed ahead. No matter how much you pleaded for him to slow down, he kept walking. You had no idea where he was going until you spotted an old, run-down building. He was going to the library.
Once he got to the doors, he used his spare key to unlock it and rush inside. You follow after, finally being able to catch up
“Hey! Haechan, wait” You grab his arm, and he finally turns towards you.
“What! Isn't this what you wanted? To piss me off?” He asks in exasperation, his chest heaving in anger.
“Can we just be honest then! Why are you upset?” You challenge. 
“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU!” He yells in frustration, “I've liked you since the day you gave me your headband. I could have done anything else for extra credit You know why I chose the library? Because I knew you would be here!”
“You completely ditched me after!”
“I was busy!”
“Your insufferable is what you are!’
“You think you know it all, don't you!” 
"Well, I do!” You yell, “I know if you liked me, you should have acted like it!”
“Oh yea!?”
“Yea!”
With his lips pressed hungrily against yours, you found it impossible to think at all. Not with the way he pulled you closer to taste more of you. You could hardly keep up. One minute you’re at each other's throats, and the next his tongue is down yours.
He pushes you back against a bookshelf, knocking a few copies from their spot, and you pay them no mind as they clatter to the floor. You would have a lot to clean up afterwards.
“So annoying,” he mutters against your lips as he deepens the kiss.
You still can't keep up. All you can think about is the way his hands feel as they travel across the skin of your stomach. They were cool from the midnight air and you shivered under his touch. He backs away to let you catch his breath.
“Tell me you want it,” he says, a hair's breadth away from your neck. He gave you your moment to back out, to go back to whatever you guys were before, but you didn't take it.
“I need you, please,” you mutter as you bring your hands back up to his hair and pull him down for another kiss. 
You couldn't take another interruption; you needed all of him, and if you had to wait another second, you'd explode. He tried to pull away again for air, but you chased his lips, biting them in retaliation, and he whined.
“Not so tough now, are you” you joke, a bit out of breath.
He narrows his eyes and rests his hand against your neck “You need to be quiet; we’re in a library.” He tightens the hold on your neck and any rebuttal you had dies in your throat “another word and I'll leave you to finish by yourself and I don't think Edgar Allen Poe could turn you on more than I can” 
You raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to rasp out a response, but he has you facing the bookshelf, manhandling you before you can speak.
“Do not test me,” he says.
He has you pinned up against the shelves and undresses you. You want to complain about the amount of clothing he was wearing, but remind yourself of his earlier threat.
The library is dark and quiet; no one would be able to see your bodies dance in the dark. Your senses are heightened and they are all zeroed in on haechan. The warmth of his hands as they explore your body and tease you and the soft sounds that escape his mouth as he grinds his hips against your ass. 
For a second, you don't feel him pressing up against you anymore, and your protests die on your tongue as you feel him lick into your heat from behind. He’s grabbing at your cheeks, massaging them as he spreads them to make room for his face. He's so messy, and you can't help but blush at the amount of noise he's making. Your legs begin to shake as he sucks heavily on your clit. He pulls back and spits on your cunt, adding to the slickness, before inserting his fingers. As many days as you had worked with him, you didn't think it would ever end with him pushing you up against the bookcases and eating you out from the back. Just a few moments ago, he couldn't stand you; now he was on his knees, like he could worship your pussy for a lifetime. You would not be able to look at this library the same way again.
You could feel yourself getting closer, but you'd cry if you had to come around his fingers pathetically rather than wrap around his thick cock. You thread your fingers through his hair and grab hold. You almost don’t have the heart to pull him away, but you eventually find the strength. You pull him up from his knees and into another kiss, and you can instantly taste yourself coated on his tongue. 
“Fuck me already.” you say against his lips.
He groans and gets to work on taking off his pants. He doesn't part from you for even a second, and the death grip he has on your hips tells you he can barely keep it together. He slips inside and you both whimper at the feeling. He fucks you as intimately as someone can press up against a bookshelf in the middle of a library. All you can do is just grip the shelf. You could hardly keep yourself up after coming so close to the edge. 
He finally breaks the kiss, and you gasp for air. The lightheaded feeling makes you tighten around him. He's peppering kisses around your neck and down your back. 
“So good, babe;  you feel so good,” he mumbles. “We could have been doing this from the start but you just wanted to be a brat” He nips at your skin and lands a slap against your bare ass. 
“But all you needed was some dick. Now your so good for me, right baby,” he slows his thrusts down teasingly and presses another kiss to your temple.
His strokes are so deep and calculated you almost start crying. He doesn't like your lack of response so he snakes a hand in front of you and grabs onto your neck. “Answer me baby,” he threatens as he tightens his grip on your throat. His hips pick up at a brutal speed, and he's fucking you so hard that the bookshelf is shaking, causing more books to topple off.
“Yes! All yours! I'm your good girl” you really do cry this time. 
Haechan groans at the sight of the fresh tears that fall down your cheeks. He kisses them away, and he pulls your hips back to meet his thrust, driving deeper into your greedy hole. Your head is up in the clouds, and all you can make out is him whining “so good” and “just like that” into the crook of your neck. 
You cum hard and gush out all over his length. He thrusts into you a few more times before he finally releases deep inside. Your legs are shaking and you have no idea how your going to make it home. 
He pulls out of you and watches as his cum drips out of you. He did not feel like scrubbing his cum from the library floor, so he did the next best thing. He found his way down to his knees again and cleaned you up. You weakly push at his head, and you slump against the bookshelf. 
Haechan has to pull himself away before things get out of hand again. He helps you put your clothes back on and sits you on a nearby bench as he cleans up the mess you two made. He picks up the books and puts them back on their respective shelf.
“Mrs. Lee would kill us if she found out”
“Do not bring up my grandma right now” Haechan shudders at the thought in disgust.
Silence falls over you two as he continues to work. 
“Did you mean what you said earlier” you say, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, like he wasn't fucking the life out of you two minutes ago.
“Yes, I’m sorry for not being upfront with you. It was just so hard; it seemed like we  were always fighting,” he says as he shelves a copy of Huckleberry Finn.
“I'm sorry for the way I acted before,” you sigh “Can we start over...again...for real this time” you laugh.
Haechan finishes rearranging the books and sits next to you on the bench.
“Of course,” and he kisses you. 
This kiss was different from earlier; this one meant something and wasn't lust-filled like the other. This kiss was filled with secret promises and new adventures. When he pulled away and looked him in the eye, you knew things were going to be different.
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martianbugsbunny · 1 year ago
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DARLING I have never seen anything like this I'm SOBBING
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— once we swore to remake the world in our image. (s.b.) (ao3 link)
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vampiredaisiesss · 3 months ago
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the boy beneath | dean winchester x reader
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summary - even though john has forced him to be a man, he's not fully one yet. the boyish grins and youthful desires still hold him prisoner. and in these rare moments with you, he allows himself to be that boy again.
tw: fluff, mention of john winchester, itsy bitsy angst, season one dean being a cute little shit.
The golden afternoon sun glints off the polished chrome of the Impala.
Huddled under its hood, you're helping Dean fix a blown engine in the middle of nowhere. The scent of pine and motor oil mingles in the air, a strangely comforting amalgamation that's become synonymous with these moments.
Grease smears your faces, laughter echoing through the woods before dying into a comfortable silence. Dean works his wrench as you watch him, mesmerized by the fluid motions of his hands.
There's a softness to him still, despite the harsh life he's led. Even after years of hunting and killing, he's a little shit with puppy dog eyes and a pretty boy smile.
He's got an old Canon EOS camera he roams around with everywhere nowadays. It's become as much a part of him as his leather jacket or the samulet. And yes, it's a bit battered, much like Dean himself, but it's efficient at it's job, just like him.
"What'cha lookin' at, sweetheart?" he asks amusedly, without looking up. If he had, he would've caught the longing in your eyes.
"Nothing," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady, but the slight tremor betrays you.
A gust of wind blows across your face, tickling you with your strands of hair. You giggle at the sensation, the sound coming out light and carefree. It steals Dean's attention away from his beloved car, soft eyes landing on your face.
Dean's heart skips a beat as he looks at you. God, you're beautiful, he thinks, drinking in the sight of your windswept hair and the laughter in your eyes.
A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. He reaches for the camera in the back seat. The shutter clicks, immortalizing your joy.
As he lowers his camera, he thinks of all your hours spent in between sheets. Naked bodies pressed together, crevices into crevices. He's enamoured by the way his hands mould your body to fit the curves of his.
Even though John has forced him to be a man, he's not fully one yet. The boyish grins and youthful desires still hold him prisoner. And in these rare moments with you, he allows himself to be that boy again.
The thought of losing you feels like the ache Achilles must have felt when Patroculus died. It's an ache that gnaws at his insides every second of his existence. He wants to hold onto this feeling, to you, with everything he has.
And for a fleeting moment, as he turns back to the engine, you both pretend that this is all there is — just you, Dean, and the open road ahead.
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rubyvhs · 20 days ago
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who’d believe? | dean winchester
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summary. dean finds you six years after you ‘died’. tags. wc 2.3k, car sex (just fingering), angst, mentions soulless sam. lailas notes. this is for my ‘stuck on you’ by meiko square for @jacklesversebingo + actually got inspired by @little-diable ‘s not a ghost fic. so so beautiful and i think everyone should go read it! ++ for my 500 celebration, so happy i got to it so quickly && the title is the translation of the song title. and most importantly, beta’d by the incredible @copperboom82 who made it much more readable and enjoyable.
You were never really a bar type of person, mostly because of the loud noise and smell, other than that, you liked a good party. But you decided you needed to celebrate getting your dream job, or, okay, whatever, your friend is forcing you to. 
"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said, handed you your outfit and went outside to get the car started, not even giving you time to reject the idea. Though the second you stepped foot in the lively place, you were glad you came.
The drinks and music were exactly what you needed; a nice night out with no responsibilities. And especially no men (at least none like those you work with, you're honestly over them). 
An hour into dancing with your friend, two more strangers join you. When the last song ends and another less 'pop' and more 'rock' one starts, they suggest going out to smoke for a second. Despite not once in your life trying it, you agree. 
You should really work on saying no.
Thankfully you're sensible enough to refuse when they try to hand you one, just standing next to them, linking your arm with your friend's. "Where do you work?" You ask one of the girls. She has shorter red hair that almost reaches her shoulders, black eyeliner and a septum piercing. In other words? Fucking sexy.
"Police." Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter. "Oh, stop it! You're fine."
You laugh but shake your head, "No, no, that's not what I meant, you're just so— cute, I guess. Wouldn't have taken you for the assertive cop type."
"Yeah, well," she shrugs, dismissing the thought. It's obvious she gets it a lot. "Saw the hottest guys today, by the way—"
Her friend interrupts, beautiful brown pin-straight hair, pale skin, a gorgeous smile; "God, he was pretty. And his brother too…”
"Oh yeah. Agent something and Agent whatever, I don't remember, I was too busy looking through the shorter one’s shirt." You all laugh, a sway in your demeanor. You're pretty sure it's the alcohol that's got them saying all this but it's funny either way. 
"Yeah, he was amazing. Like, those green eyes, honestly—" Your smile drops fast. Green eyes had always been somewhat of a trigger for you ever since Dean, especially that specific beautiful shade. Then again honestly everything's been a trigger: hunting, black cars, vintage cars, food, pie— you could go on.
"Oh and the way he walks? The little outward bounce of his leg, so cute!"
You shift, a little uncomfortable. How many guys do you know with bow legs, green eyes and are cops? They're probably not allowed to tell you he's FBI. 
The red-haired girl touches your arm making you jump. "Shit, you okay, honey? You seemed out of it."
"Oh, no, I'm sorry, just reminded me of someone. Old…" Dean. 
There he is. Alive and in the flesh. You don't become a hunter and not hear about the Winchesters, you, on the other hand, fly under the radar. Especially since you try to stay away from any and all hunters.
But you heard nothing of how gorgeous he has grown up.
The girls catch your drift mid-sentence and look back to see what you're staring at. A dumb-struck Dean. "Oh! Agent…" Her friend elbows her stomach and Dean doesn’t peel his eyes off of you to speak.
"Right, yes. Hi, Officer." 
She blushes under the dim light but Dean apologizes before breezing past them and holding your arm roughly to drag you away behind the bar. Your friend makes sure to motion to you if you need help before you let her know she should just get back inside. It’s pretty damn obvious you know the guy.
"Are you fucking serious?"
You let out a shy smile, "Dean, hey, how are you?"
"'How are you?'" He mocks, letting go of your arm aggressively, "'how are you?'"
"Is that not what they say anymore?"
"Are you serious?" He seems to enjoy repeating sentences much more than when you last saw him. "I looked for you, I mourned you." You mourned him too, in a way. 
You and Dean were acquaintances, occasionally hunting together until you stayed at Bobby's place for a week and he came to visit coincidentally. You both started talking more that night, exchanged phone numbers and became somewhat friends. 
Sam left for Stanford and you guys stayed together more frequently. Sam came back and you 'died'. Not on purpose, obviously, but Dean thought you died. You did, for a second, before you were brought back for some twisted, fucked up reason. Not that you knew it but if you did you're sure it would be fucked up.
By the time you woke up Sam and Dean had been long gone and your body had been buried. Didn’t burn your bones like he should’ve, no. He buried you. You're not sure which is worse.
"Look, I don't know what happened—"
"What does that even mean? You magically come back to life; you fucking call me! Ever thought of that?" A thousand times. 
But Sam had finally decided to come back and hunt with Dean, Dean buried you, and so, you'd reasoned he was fine. You knew that if you were Sam, your body would've been preserved in the Impala for months before he'd ever allow himself to do that, to put you six feet under. The fact that he didn’t hold on to you had to mean he was okay.
But neither of you deserve more guilt. "I'm sorry, Dean."
"That's really rich. Real rich comin' from you. Grieved you for goddamn years. Six." Huh, that's a lot longer than you’d have thought. You were sure it would be six minutes. You knew he cared about you, but Deans also a 'what's done is done' kind of man.
"I'm—"
"If you apologize, I'll kill you. Again." You're about to crack a joke but his glare sets you off. Oookay, tough crowd, whatever. 
"I wanted to call, I swear I did," how do you explain to the king of 'I don't deserve good' that you don't deserve him. He'll think it's a cruel joke. "I didn't know if you'd want me to reach out, I thought you were moving on with Sammy, okay? Going on with finding John. Me calling wouldn't have made a difference."
He scoffs, shaking his head. "I went to hell." You bite your bottom lip between your teeth. He sighs, a mix of emotions on his face. "You knew?" Your nod makes him turn around in anger (disappointment? hurt?), kicking the cardboard box as far as it'll go, another plastic one breaks and you flinch at that one. 
In your defense, everyone knows.
"I couldn't do that to you and Sam, you moved on, Dean, I heard about you and Lisa and Ben—"
"Where the hell did you hear that?" Hunters talk. And he knows it. He turns around in an angry haze. "I didn't fuckin' move on, alright? I did what Sam wanted me to do when I didn't have you. Because my goddamn brother was in a cage with Lucifer, and now he's walking around without a soul!" He raises his voice until it gives out and so does his breath. You can't help the way your heart clenches, not even because of the words, but the tired look behind Dean's eyes. 
Subconsciously, you move forward until you can hug him, and like he always used to: Dean throws himself into it, his head in your neck as he breathes you in. "I missed you." He whispers. 
You don't believe how easily he's adjusted to this. If you were in his place you wouldn't hesitate to kill him, thinking he's a demon or a shifter.
He chuckles, his whole body rubbing against you. "Haven't hugged anyone like this in— ever. Was waiting for you." 
He's never been safe, always made everyone else feel protected, you could only hope you built a safe place within yourself for him. You're at least close.
"I missed you too, De. Every single day, I swear."
You don't know what about the sentence sparks anything in him, but it does. He pulls away to smirk and push you against the hard wall. You gasp, doing nothing but turning him on more and giving him an entrance to your mouth. 
He kisses you like he's lost his mind. He has.
His touch is electric as he pulls you closer, the heat of his body searing your skin, the raw intensity of desire saying more than words ever could. The kiss evolves, turning feral, almost carnal. He holds you, firm but tender, and rediscovers your mouth like a starving man. He is, he hasn't tasted you in… ever. 
This is your first kiss with Dean, but the explosive chemistry between you makes the blood scream in your ears. It was never a secret that you and Dean were more than just hunters to each other, and it seems you dying was his last straw. 
"We— Dean, can't here—" 
He agrees. Or he doesn't. He's still kissing you and you're not sure if either of you are breathing. 
Eventually he lets go. "Yeah," he whispers against your lips, moving for another kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, leaving a peck and panting out, "right." 
"'M sorry." God, why are you apologizing? Why are your bodies so far away?
He shakes his head, moves away (even if it looks like he's struggling to do so), "it's fine, what— you were here with friends? Are you staying?"
"Are you asking me to not stay?" 
He smiles, leans down for another kiss and you decide to say goodbye to your friends now or else you're never getting the chance. 
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"De, someone can see—"
"Don't overthink it." He says, burying his head between your breasts, kissing, biting, licking and loving all the noises you're making. He groans into your skin, nipping at a particularly sensitive spot that has you moaning out loud. "God, sweetheart, love that sound."
He moves his hands to your waist, thrusts his hips once, checking your reaction. A little tremor passes through you. Eyes hood over. 
"Can't believe you're here, and all for me." 
"Yes," you breathe, resting your forehead against Dean's, overwhelmed by his words and how close his hand is to your inner thigh. "Please."
"If I slide my hand up your skirt, will I find you dripping wet for me?" Another shudder shakes you gently. 
"Yes."
When he grips your knee and your neck, closing your lips with a kiss while his other hand travels higher, you start feeling your pulse hammering in your ears. The windows start misting over, giving you privacy— not that you particularly believe Dean cares. 
Dean moves his seat back, then pushes you until your shoulder blades hit the steering wheel so you're more comfortable, your legs bent on either side of him, hands braced against the door and his chest. 
"Dreamed about this," He says, his voice low and husky. The way his eyes are raking over your body, you're not even sure you're supposed to hear him. "Thought about this everyday for six years, sweetheart. Now I get to have you." 
He glides one finger between your lips, sliding up and down slowly. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans, eyes focused between your legs and you fall over, your head on his chest, before he pushes you back against the steering wheel, "nu-uh, wanna see it. Wanna see how wet you are for me, baby."
You have so much to say— a lot of apologies and 'I miss you's’ and so many more beautiful words and kisses and you want to tell Dean that you care about him as much as he does you and why you left—
He dips two fingers inside you. Curls them immediately, and just like that, he finds your most sensitive spot. 
You half pant, half moan, the words 'Dean, oh my god, please' a jumbled drowned-out mishmash because he starts torturing your clit, his thumb rubbing perfect circles, hard and fast, reducing your bones to liquid. But when you're right there, he eases away, lazily pumping two fingers in and out. 
He smiles, exhaling a content breath as his gaze zeroes between your thighs, ignoring your pleas. "Yeah? you wanna come, darlin’?" the pet name and the question both bring out a loud moan you didn’t know you were holding, your hips involuntarily moving against his fingers until he stops you. you’re about to whine again but he increases the pace, crooking his fingers inside you while his thumb rubs your clit, and that’s all it takes.
The orgasm rips through you, powerful, relentless, so intense you think you might just black out. You’ve never felt so boneless in someone's arms, until your head falls right into his chest as he works your pussy, the sensation easing off and then coming again like waves crashing against the shore.
Dean doesn't stop. His fingers are rough, his thumb still being put to good use, and the release lasts so long. So fucking long you think you have an out-of-body experience. 
It takes a minute until you're able to breathe anything but his cologne. When you can, you sit up slightly and move into the seat next to him, thankful for the lack of a console to separate you since you don't get very far, just lay your head on his chest. 
He kisses your head. You can even feel his smile against the kiss until you notice the bulge of his pants and frown. You quickly get up and Dean's entire face falls. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—" 
Dean grabs your wrist before it makes it halfway to his dick. "This isn't an exchange, sweetheart." Your entire body is like jelly, you can't move and you're pretty sure if you try sucking Dean off, you’ll pass out. But it feels… rude. "You're spent. I'll get you home so you can take a hot shower, and we'll pick this up again when you're ready. How about that?" 
You can't fucking believe your luck. Dean wants an 'again'. 
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callieisto · 4 months ago
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☆ Kinktober Day 4: Aphrodisiac! ☆
(fem!reader)
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Sam hated witches.
They were nearly impossible to deal with, mischievous, and most of the time, they had no real idea what they were getting themselves into. But the ones that did know were the ones Sam hated the most. Because they did stuff like this.
This older grandma-type had seen you and Sam when you came to interview her about some teenagers disappearing, and then claiming they spent three weeks in the woods as actual animals- squirrels and deer and rabbits. Due to what they claimed was a witch, and what the police claimed to be hallucinogenic mushrooms (or something.)
She decided you needed a little push in the right direction, and had drugged the two of you with an aphrodisiac in the tea she offered. Too bad the kids had managed to describe her only a few hours later. Dean had shot her in the head before she could really tell them what it did beyond the whole 'making you really horny' thing. The spell, drug, whatever it was, had taken its sweet time kicking in. He thought it would be okay. All three of you did.
A town over, after the burning and the burying and the ruining of spell ingredients, it had hit him in the car- and you moments later. He managed to tell Dean to pull into a motel and splurge for three rooms- because no way was he going to share with his brother, and no way was he going to share with you.
You were just- Well, you were... you were something to him, something sweet and perfect and entirely untouchable. Besides, even seeing you right now might cause his heart to burst, because you raise his resting heart rate by like twenty BPM just by existing around him, and he can already feel his heart thundering against his ribs. He's sweatier than he's ever been in his life, naked on the edge of his bed in the motel room with a hand around his dick.
He's trying to jerk off to this terrible cable porn, but he keeps imagining you between his legs, your eyes fluttering so pretty as you lick up the underside of his dick, over that vein at the tip that makes him shudder, and-
He cums with a little strangled gasp and a whimper, not expecting his release to creep up on him like that. He pants, eyeing the spot where the cum soaks into the rug. He thinks 'god, finally', because maybe that would make everything better.
But he's still hard as a rock. And his head is still foggy. And if he's hearing things right, there's a timid little knocking sound at his door, but that might also be a hallucination due to his brain leaking out of his ears. He's so hot. He feels like he's melting.
The knock comes again, louder this time. Sam clears his head enough to tug on his boxers as he stumbles towards the door, still a little shaky from his orgasm. He looks through the peephole, and...
Shit.
It's you.
He opens the door slightly. He just stares at you- you're wrapped in a bathrobe, you're squirming under his gaze, you're sweaty and you look weaker than he's ever seen you. You're so perfect. So beautiful.
"Hey," He croaks out, voice hoarse. "How are you holding up?"
He's never wanted to kiss you more in his entire life.
Instead, he opens the door all the way and ushers you inside. The idea of anyone else seeing you looking like this makes him feel an emotion he doesn't quite want to deal with, and the door closes and locks behind you. He offers you a weak little smile.
"It's, um, it's worse than I thought it would be." You manage, shrugging as you sit down on the edge of his bed. He winces internally when you cast your eyes towards the cum staining the carpet. You don't say anything.
"Yeah, it's... not great." He manages, running a hand through his hair. "I tried to do some research on it when we got here, but, uh..."
"You got too horny to think?" You offered, laughing weakly. Sam nodded with a breathless chuckle.
"Yeah, um- sorry about the porn. On the tv." He said awkwardly, moving to turn it off. "I thought it would help, but it really didn't."
"It's okay." You whispered, smiling as he turned to you. "I don't think there's really anything that could help."
"I can think of something." Sam says with a laugh, shaking his head.
"Yeah?" And you tilt your head and flutter your eyelashes. His mind goes blank, just a little. He swallows dryly.
"... Yeah."
Sam swears he has no idea what happened. It's like everything blurred together, and suddenly he was on top of you, kissing the air straight out of your lungs. And his body stopped hurting. And the fog cleared a little bit.
"Fuck," He rumbles against your lips. "Fuck, you taste so good."
You moan all sweet into his mouth and he gets dizzy, if he wasn't already hard, he would've been, because you're just so soft and so fucking wet-
He's rutting his cock against your pussy, and fumbling with the tie of your bathrobe. It falls away, and something cracks in his head because his tip catches at your entrance and the moan he lets out is guttural. He feels wild, he feels hungry, and he wants to fill you up with cum until it leaks out around him.
"Shh, shh," He hushes breathlessly, because you're mewling and it's so cute he might die. "Shh, I've got you, d-doesn't it feel better? You want me to make you feel better?"
You nod, lightly knocking your forehead against his, and he laughs softly. "Sam," you whine, and your hands come up to curl around the base of his neck. "Need you, please..."
"I'm here," He coos, sweet and soft. "I'm here, angel, I've got you." He pushes in, slowly, kissing all over your face as he does. Once he's settled, he takes a moment to pull back and drink you in. You're so pretty, so impossibly pretty, and softer than any girl he's ever been with before.
He thrusts, just a little, shallowly, and the noise you make is almost enough to have him cumming right then and there. He breathes out weakly, thumb sliding through your folds to find your clit. He fumbles, a little- sue him for being nervous- but finds it eventually, rubbing it slowly as he bottoms out in you over and over again.
You're whining, squirming, and- holy shit- you've cum already, just so sweet and sensitive for him, tensing and crying out and he has half a mind to thank the witch profusely because he never would've dared to touch you if this hadn't happened.
"You're so pretty." He breathes, and his voice breaks when he thrusts back in. He's trying so hard not to cum right then and there. "God, oh god, I want to fill you up so bad. Wanna see you dripping with it, oh god."
"Pleasepleaseplease," you beg. "Please, Sammy, want it, need it-" And with that, Sam's mind fucking shatters. He registers that he cums again, register that you cum again, and he's still fucking hungry, wants to stay like this forever.
He keeps going, working both of you through another orgasm, whimpering breathless little moans of your name, babbling about how good you feel, his head dropping into the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, and he whines like a dog.
The rest of the night is a blur. At some point, he thinks the aphrodisiac wears off, but his memory blots out a little ways before that. Waking up in the morning, he's still in bed, and you're tucked into his chest. His head is spinning. He sits up, and you mumble sleepily, and his heart clenches in his chest.
"Good morning." He whispers, kissing over your face. When he gets a little giggly smile from you, he smiles back.
And then he pulls out. A little flood of cum follows.
And Sam has officially been ruined, because he's going to have to ask Dean for Plan B and he's never going to live it down- but also, he's had you, he's never going to let you go, because you're just so perfect.
He'd endure a lifetime of teasing for you.
☆ taglist!
@adhd-introvert
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