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deans-queen · 14 days ago

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𝐈 𝐆𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

Pairing: Dean x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: it’s Christmas Eve and Reader (Y/N) is thinking about her past relationship with Dean.

Warnings: sadness, emotional topics, smut (just a bit of make up sex), angst. (Let me know if I miss any)

Pre-AN: this story is based on the song “Last Christmas” by Wham!

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

The snowflakes clung to the windshield as I sat in the driver’s seat of my car, parked outside my family’s house. I hadn’t meant to get here this early, but the thought of walking in and seeing all the Christmas cheer—the garlands, the twinkling lights, the tree laden with ornaments—made me hesitate. Last Christmas had been so perfect, and this year, I wasn’t sure I could face it.

I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel, letting the memories rush back.

𝑳𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔

𝑰 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒙𝒕 𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒈𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒚

It had been magical. Dean had shown up unannounced, his leather jacket dusted with snow, a mischievous grin on his face as he held up a box wrapped in red and gold paper. I’d never forget how he looked that night—the way the firelight danced in his green eyes, the way he kissed me under the mistletoe with a hunger that made me forget anyone else was in the room.

And then, a week later, he was gone. No calls, no texts. Just a voicemail: “Y/N, I gotta take care of some stuff. Don’t wait for me.” That was it. He was good at that—disappearing when things got too real.

𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓, 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔

𝑰’𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍

I spent the entire evening with my family trying not to think about Dean. Later on when I got home, I sighed deeply, turning off the car and bracing myself against the cold. But as I stepped out, I froze. There he was, leaning against the Impala parked across the street, hands shoved in his pockets, looking like a goddamn dream wrapped in flannel and regret.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and rough, like gravel on velvet.

I wanted to scream at him. Or maybe throw myself into his arms. Instead, I folded my arms across my chest, keeping my distance. “What are you doing here, Dean?”

“I… I wanted to see you,” he said, taking a cautious step closer. “I know I screwed up. Big time. But I—”

“Don’t.” My voice cracked despite my best efforts. “You don’t get to show up here after what you did. After you left.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I didn’t deserve you then, and I sure as hell don’t deserve you now. But I couldn’t stay away. Not tonight.”

“Why? Because you’re lonely?” My words came out harsher than I intended, but I was tired of his games. “Because you remembered how good it was last Christmas?”

Dean flinched, but he didn’t back down. “Yeah, I remembered. Every damn detail. The way you laughed when I tried to bake cookies and almost set the kitchen on fire. The way you looked at me when I gave you that necklace. The way you—” He stopped himself, his jaw tightening. “I remember it all, Y/N. And I’ve been kicking myself every day since I walked away.”

My heart ached, but I couldn’t let him off that easy. “You didn’t just walk away…. You broke me! I gave you my heart Dean!”

His eyes softened, and in two long strides, he was standing in front of me. “I know, sweetheart. And I’ve been broken without you. I’ve been trying to fix myself so I could be the guy you deserve. But damn it, Y/N, I need you. I love you.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest. I tried to stay strong, but when he cupped my face in his hands, I crumbled.

“Say the word, and I’ll leave,” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. “But if there’s even a chance you still feel something for me…”

I didn’t let him finish. I grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled him down into a kiss that was all fire and desperation. His arms wrapped around me, holding me like he never wanted to let go.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured against my lips, his hands sliding down to grip my waist. “You’re all I think about, sweetheart. You, and the way you taste, the way you feel…”

I gasped as he backed me against the Jeep, his mouth trailing down my neck, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. “Dean,” I whispered, my fingers tangling in his hair.

“I’m not going anywhere this time,” he said, his voice dark and rough. “You hear me? You’re mine, Y/N. I’ll spend every Christmas and every single damn day proving it if I have to.”

I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. “You better mean that, Winchester.”

He smirked, that cocky, irresistible smirk that always got me. “Oh, I mean it, sweetheart. And I’ll spend the rest of the night showing you just how much.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the snow falling around us, the whiskey lingering on Dean’s breath, or the ache of all the time we’d lost, but the second his lips crashed into mine again, the world blurred. The anger, the heartbreak—it all burned away under the heat of his touch.

“Get inside,” Dean growled, his voice low and rough as his hands slid down my hips. “Unless you want your neighbors to get a free show.”

I didn’t trust my voice, so I just grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. The second it clicked shut behind us, he had me pressed against it, his hands framing my face like he was trying to memorize every detail.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing mine before trailing down my jaw. “I missed you so much, Y/N. I’ve been dreaming about this. About you.”

Before I could respond, he scooped me up like I weighed nothing, carrying me through the house until he found the living room. The Christmas tree cast a soft, golden glow over the room, and for a split second, I remembered last year—how we’d curled up on this very couch, trading kisses and pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist.

Dean didn’t stop until he laid me down on the couch, hovering over me like a man possessed. His hands were everywhere—skimming up my thighs, pushing up the hem of my sweater, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His lips followed, tracing a path down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin just enough to make me gasp.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his voice dark and commanding as his hands gripped my waist. “Tell me how to make it right, Y/N.”

I arched beneath him, my body already on fire. “I want you, Dean. All of you.”

His eyes darkened, and he wasted no time. In seconds, my sweater was gone, and his lips were on my bare skin, worshipping every inch of me. His hands worked quickly, tugging off my jeans and underwear with a single, fluid motion that made my heart race.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, his eyes raking over me. “You’re perfect.”

I reached for him, pulling him down into another kiss, desperate to feel him closer. His jacket hit the floor, followed by his flannel and T-shirt, revealing the solid planes of his chest, the scar that trailed over his ribs, and the tattoo I knew by heart. My hands roamed over him, memorizing every inch like it was the first time.

“You still with me?” he asked, his voice softening as he pressed his forehead to mine. “I don’t want to hurt you, sweetheart. I want this to be—”

“Dean,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the trembling in my limbs. “Shut up and kiss me.”

That was all it took. He slid his hands under my thighs, pulling me flush against him as he kissed me like his life depended on it. His hips rocked against mine, and I felt the hard evidence of just how much he wanted me.

“You’re so goddamn stubborn,” he growled against my ear, his voice thick with need. “But you’re mine, Y/N. Every inch of you. And I’m going to prove it.”

“Then do it,” I challenged, my nails digging into his shoulders. “Show me.”

Dean didn’t need any more encouragement. His hands gripped my thighs as he sank into me, slow and deliberate, his eyes locked on mine. The stretch, the burn, the way he filled me—it was overwhelming in the best way. He started moving, his pace unhurried but firm, like he was savoring every second.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his head dropping to my shoulder as his hips rolled against mine. “Better than I remembered. Better than I deserve.”

“Dean,” I gasped, my fingers tangling in his hair. “Faster.”

He obeyed, his movements growing rougher, more desperate. The couch creaked beneath us, but neither of us cared. The only sounds were our labored breaths, the soft whimpers that escaped my lips, and the deep, guttural moans that rumbled from his chest.

“Say it,” he demanded, his voice raw as he buried his face in my neck. “Say you’re mine, babygirl”

“I’m yours,” I whispered, and the words felt like a promise. “Always.”

That was all it took to push us both over the edge. His name fell from my lips like a prayer as the pleasure consumed me, and I felt him shudder against me, his grip on my hips tightening as he followed me into oblivion.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. His weight was warm and solid against me, his breath hot on my skin as he pressed lazy kisses to my shoulder.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured after a while, his voice soft but firm. “I’m not leaving again, Y/N. Not unless you make me.”

I cupped his face, brushing a thumb over his stubbled jaw. “You better not. Because I’m not letting you go this time.”

He grinned, leaning down to capture my lips in another kiss. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

And for the first time in a year, it really was.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞🤍

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!! I hope you enjoy the time with your families and loved ones 🥰

Last Christmas has always been one of my favorite Christmas songs so of course I’m gonna write a story about it! Feel free to let me know what you think! I always love reading feedback!

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