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#spn x reader inserts
jawritter · 2 years
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Carry On
Chapter 9
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Summary: It was just a simple hunt, found on a pie festival. It was supposed to be easy. Something they’d all done one hundred and one times a million. No one could have told Y/N, Dean, and Sam that nothing from that point on would ever be the same again.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader x Sam Winchester
Word Count: 2704
Warnings: To quote Crowley... “FEELINGS!!”
Due to the graphic nature of this fic, and the fact that it will eventually contain Smut. This fic is an 18 + only fic! If you’re under 18 DO NOT read this fic!
A/N: This fic is beta’d by @kazsrm67​​​ Thanks so much love! Please do not copy my work! Feedback is golden! I hope you all enjoy this ride with me!
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The dynamic had changed. Things between Dean and Y/N had shifted. She would have never thought the shift would have been as easy as breathing, but there it was. They had talked the night before, and fallen asleep with her head resting softly on Dean’s shoulder, his head resting on top of her own; when she’d woken up, she woke up with Dean nuzzled as close to her as his battered body would allow him, sound asleep. He’d not even woken her up for any pain medication that night, which surprised her, because at the hospital he was waking up for it every four, no more than six hours. She thought that maybe it was because he was so tired when they had finally gotten to the hotel room, and she was worried that he’d wake up in a good bit of pain, but when he finally woke up at just after nine in the morning; she’d let him sleep just as long as he wanted too; he deserved that much, he seemed to be in very little pain at all. 
Showering was also not as horrible as she anticipated it to be. She was able to shower and get herself around for the morning while Dean was still sleeping, and when he’d woken up, she’d helped him shower and shave before dressing for the rest of the journey home.
Sam wasn’t very happy about the trip all together, but she was pretty sure that he was less happy about her stopping last night with Dean at a hotel, because he left her message unread and didn’t even call to see if they were okay or not. She really didn’t have time for his temper tantrums. Her focus, the only thing that mattered to her really, was Dean, and his wellbeing. If he wanted to act like a child, well, fuck him. 
“Are you ready to head out?” She questioned him as she closed the hotel room door after she’d gone to place their bags back in Baby’s trunk. 
Dean tossed his breakfast wrapper towards the trash can and nodded. They only had about four hours to go, and they were home free, and she knew that if her heart was pounding with anticipation, surely his was too. Even if he was sore and trying to act like he wasn’t. 
He’d stood to his feet before she could even cross the floor to help brace him, but he gladly accepted her help in balancing himself once they’d started moving slowly towards the door. His face grimaced in concentration with every shuffled step he’d made towards his goal. 
“Dean, let me give you something for pain when you get into the car,” she tried, but Dean just shook his head no, he’d been refusing anything for pain since he’d woken up.
“Sweetheart, I’m fine,” he gritted as she closed the door behind them and helped guide him down the curb and closer to Baby. “I don’t want to take it unless I have to. It makes me feel all foggy and makes me want to sleep all the fucking time and it makes my legs feel heavier than they already do. It’s hard enough to walk as it is. I don’t need anything adding to that difficulty level.”
He came to a stop by grabbing Baby’s hood, and letting go of her arm to shimmy himself down the front of the car until he got to the front passenger door and opened it. 
“Wait, what are you doing?” she asked quickly, helping him to open the door. 
“Sitting,” he answered simply, and she just stared at him for a moment as he plopped himself down in the seat with an exhausted huff. “I’ve been laying on my back for days, fuck weeks, I want to sit up front like an adult for at least as long as I can.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. 
“Dean, we’ve got a four-hour drive ahead of us, you’d be more comfortable laying in the back sea–” 
“Baby,” Dean growled playfully, grabbing her by the hand and pulling so that she would sink down to his level. There it was, that shift in dynamic with those pet names; she’d be a liar if she said it didn’t make her heart flutter in her chest. “Stop worrying! If I get tired or if it starts to hurt, I’ll let you pull over and put me in the back seat, okay? I just wanna sit up front like an adult for a little while. I wanna be close to you. Is that such a horrible thing?”
“No, it’s not horrible,” Y/N said, crouching down next to the open door and placing a hand on his sweatpants clad leg, “I just don’t like to see you in pain, and I’m afraid that if we don’t stay ahead of it, you will be uncomfortable.”
“Hey,” he said, capturing her attention. “I’m tougher than I look, sweetheart. You got to trust me to be honest with you when I tell you I will let you know when it’s too much. It would be so easy for me to lay down back there and just give up, never get out of the bed again; if I don’t push myself a little, if I don’t try, it’s never gonna get any better.”
She knew that he was right. Sure, he was still in pain, nerve pain can be brutal, but it was also a whole lot of mind over matter, and the first step to getting better is getting up, she had to trust him enough to know that he knew his limits, and that honesty was going to be a thing here, because if it wasn’t, then she didn’t know if she could help him at all, no matter how much she loved him. 
“Okay,” she agreed, and Dean tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She was worried, and honestly, she’d be worried until she got him safe and home; she knew that he knew that too, she could tell by the way he was looking at her, trying to read her, but she couldn’t help. She’d seen him go through enough, she didn’t want to see him go through anymore hurt. 
“Come on,” Dean said, letting go of her hand, and allowing her to stand up finally, breaking the staring contest that neither of them knew they had started until it was all over. “I wanna get home.”
She nodded and closed his door carefully before making her way around the car to the driver’s side and sliding into place. Dean reached over and grabbed her hand as she pulled Baby around and onto the main road, lacing their fingers together as his eyes drifted out of the window, and the scenery started to rush by them with each mile she gained in speed. 
Home, they were going home, and with any luck, tonight, she’d spend the first night in what was going to be her home too, but that was kinda hard to wrap her head around with the warm weight of Dean’s hand resting on hers and her heart racing like it was running its own marathon. Maybe it wasn’t really the bunker that she was feeling a little homesick for, not totally. It wasn’t a home with a roof and four walls. Maybe it was just this right here with Dean’s hand in her own. Maybe home was a person, and not a place after all. 
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What should have just been a four-hour drive turned into a six-hour one. Dean had to stop and take a break a few times, but he ultimately ended up riding in the front of the car, sitting up, the whole way, which equally impressed and scared the fuck out of her. They had also stopped to eat and let Dean stand up for a little while and stretch his legs.
When they both walked into the little diner, Y/N helping Dean every step of the way, she hated the way people stared at him, like there was something wrong with him. Judging. No one offered to help, not that Dean really wanted anyone else to help him, but still, they just sat and gawked at him, and it made her blood boil. Dean however either didn’t notice at all, or just didn’t care, so she let it go. Still, it made her think that sometimes the real monsters out there were people more than things that go bump in the night. 
Other than that, the ride had been pleasant. Dean was admittedly more alert and awake today than he was the day they had left the hospital. He spent the majority of the drive digging through his cassette tape collection and humming along to whatever it was playing on the radio at the time. 
He would also keep his hand on her in some form or another, whether it was just resting his hand on her thigh as she drove or wrapping his hand around hers. There was that change again. The whole time they were in the hospital, Dean had barely touched her at all, but ever since he’d talked to her last night at the hotel, he was more open, wanting and seeking out closeness and her touch. It was easy with him. So very, very easy. There was no need for forced conversation; there was no call to impress. They were perfectly content just being with one another which came as a surprise. Normally, the first parts of building a relationship of any kind, if that’s what this even was, were the hardest; the most awkward. Not for them. It was like they were born to be next to one another, and it just came easy. 
But that ease and comfort that they had fallen into on the ride over would become short lived for Y/N, because as soon as she turned down the long road that would ultimately lead them to The Bunker, her heart rate picked up speed, and she gripped the steering wheel tighter. Dean’s eyes stayed glued straight ahead of him, his face one of a statue, and his breathing even and controlled. 
The road they were on was a familiar one. The car they were in was one they had ridden in a million times over. Even the destination was one that they both now called ‘home’. Still, that did nothing to quill the deep, hanging tension that now filled the car that said, even though all these things were the same, they were now so vastly different. NOTHING would ever be the same again. Dean’s life had been altered, permanently, and there was little to nothing that could change it. 
Dean’s grip tightened on Y/N’s hand as she turned the corner, and the first glimpse of the towering, concrete fortress came into view. 
“We made it,” Y/N announced, almost to herself in disbelief more than to Dean, because she was so afraid when they left the hospital that they would never get there that she was still having a hard time believing they actually made it, but when she looked at Dean, it was as if someone had sucker punched her in the throat. 
He sat there, staring dead ahead of him as she pulled up to the garage door to descend into the depths of the building. There was a heart wrenching sadness there. She had thought that he would be at least a little happy they made it, but there was no sign of happiness there on his features. In fact, he looked about five years older than he had when he backed Baby out of this very garage and set out on his final hunt. He almost looked like a ghost as she sat there pale, and in a deep silence. 
“Hey,” she voiced, catching his attention and coming to a stop before she drove into the garage, and Dean reluctantly looked over towards her, and peeled his eyes off of his home that lay in front of him. “You okay there handsome?”
“Thought I was,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as his green orbs drifted to gaze out in front of him again. “Now, I really don’t know what I am. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back here. I mean, why? What’s the point? It’s not like I can hunt anymore… Maybe I should have just stayed at that apartment Sam and Eileen found.”
“Dean,” Y/N said, gripping his hand tight enough on her own to get his attention again, and the look that he gave her nearly gutted her. “This is your home, whether you’re ever gonna hunt again or not. Your story’s not over. This is just the beginning of a new chapter, and I’m gonna be right here with you, every damn step of the way.”
Dean nodded his head and gripped her hand even tighter, and she drove into the garage, parking in Baby’s designated spot, where Sam and Eileen were waiting for the pair of them, Sam the first one to Dean’s side of the door to open it up for him as Y/N got out of the car and Eileen retrieved their bags with an excited squeal. 
“How does it feel to be home?” Sam questioned, helping to stabilize Dean, but Dean refused to move until Y/N was in place next to him, refusing to even put a foot forward until she was right by his side, and she’d be a liar if she said that it didn’t make her heart squeeze just a little in her chest. 
“Honestly,” Dean said as the three of them started to make their way deeper into The Bunker slowly but surely, “I didn’t think I’d ever see this place again.”
She could see it on Sam’s face. The same weight that sat on the pair of them as soon as they turned down the road towards home. The inescapable fact that things could have, and probably should have, gone a hell of a lot different. They should have been carrying him back to prepare his body to burn, not helping him walk through the library like they were right then. They should have been mourning his loss, not helping him sit down slowly onto his bed before Y/N could bend down to help him take his shoes off. Had some higher power, whatever that may have been, not intervened, Sam and Y/N as well, would have been having to learn to live their lives without him, and honestly, she didn’t think she could do that. She was pretty sure it would have killed her. 
“Alright,” Sam voiced as he took a step back, standing next to Eileen in the hallway. “I’ve got Y/N a drawer cleared out for her clothing, and I’ll leave you guys to get settled in, unless you need my help getting him ready to take a shower, when he’s ready. Either way, I’ll be in the library to give you guys some privacy. It’s good to have you home Dean.”
“Thanks Sam,” Y/N said, turning her attention back towards Dean who was trying to slide himself back slowly onto the bed. 
“Hey Sammy,” Dean called just as Sam started to walk away, and Sam stopped on a dime, turning to face his older brother. “I really want a fucking cheeseburger.”
Sam tossed his head back and laughed in earnest. “God, it’s good to have you back man. I’ll get that cholesterol for you.”
“I think I’ve earned it,” Dean said as Sam walked off with a wave of his hand. For just a moment, everything fell back like it had, and that same banter sprung up between Sam and Dean as it had before, but as soon as Sam was out of sight, there was that weight again, that ever-present reminder that nothing would ever be the same; that everything had almost changed for the good. 
“You wanna take a shower, or you just wanna get comfortable and rest until he gets back?” she questioned, and Dean nodded towards the folded clothes at the foot of the bed as he slowly started to peel his shirt upwards before she could help him, wincing as he did so and giving up quickly. 
“Actually, I think I just wanna strip off and lay here with my girl for a while,” he announced; reaching for her to lay down next to him again, and she did without question, carefully laying her head onto his shoulder and draping her arm over his middle as close to him as possible without hurting him. 
His girl, he’d called her his girl. She just hoped he meant it, and if he ever got one his feet and didn’t need her as much anymore, that he’d not forget it. 
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 1 month
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A Shirtless Winchester
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Pairing: Dean x reader
________
“Uh.” You stopped halfway into your bedroom, towel tucked under your arm around your bare body, messy damp hair down your back. You blinked, meeting a cheeky smile in return. 
Dean Winchester was on your bed, laying back, reading the romance book from your nightstand.
A very shirtless Dean Winchester.
“W-What are you doing in here? On my bed?”
“Waiting for you. For a book with such a cute cover they sure do some depraved things in this,” he hummed. You looked around and back into the hall, shaking your head. “You want to make out?”
“What?!”
“Do you want to make out?”
You stared at him, Dean putting the book down and walking over to you, tucking a finger under your chin so you looked into his eyes.
“Well?”
You inhaled and dropped your towel, Dean not breaking eye contact.
“Did that answer your question?” you said.
“It did. Posed another one though.”
“I bet it did,” you said, pushing on his chest, walking him back until he lay back on the bed. “I’m gonna close that door and by the time I turn around, those pants better be gone.”
“Or what?” he smirked as you already turned back towards the doorframe.
“You’ll see, Winchester. You’ll see.”
______
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Sam sank down on the edge of the bed. He couldn't resist gently running his hand over your shoulder in a loving gesture and smiling at your tousled hair on the pillow. You immediately stirred at his touch and blinked awake, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.
"Hi," he whispered, smiling.
You stretched a little and snuggled back under the covers, not tearing your eyes from him. "You've been gone for so long and all you have to say is 'hi'?" you said, pouting.
He laughed lightly. "I was gone two days," he said.
"Yeah. So long," you repeated.
"I'm so sorry. Let me try again." Sam cleared his throat dramatically and affected a bad British accent. "My love, my darling, my dearest, I missed you so much I thought I would die. May I please come to bed so I can hold you all night? You are the wind beneath my wings and the sugar in my tea!"
You couldn't help giggling a little. "I guess so," you sighed.
"You guess so?!" he laughed. "I just did all that and I get an 'I guess so'?!"
"I'm sorry, my love, my darling, my dearest," you responded, laughing.
"Alright," Sam replied, rolling his eyes. "Move over." You obliged and he slipped in under the covers with you, immediately pulling you into him and wrapping his arm around you.
"Sam?"
"Hmm?"
"I really did miss you."
He smiled and planted a kiss on your forehead, holding you more tightly. "I missed you too." Prompt: "You've been gone for so long and all you have to say is 'hi'?"
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take-it-on-the-run · 2 months
Text
And I Love Her
Sam Winchester x Reader
The reader and Dean are being tortured by Gordon Walker because of her relationship with Sam, and all they can do is hope he'll get there in time.
Word Count: 1.5k
Tags: Torture, graphic depictions of being cut into, descriptions of gore and severe bodily harm, Sam Winchester is out of character depending on who you ask
Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker
@ghostlyaccurate requested: "Hii! Can I request a Dean and/or Sam Winchester (sepperate) x fem! Reader set in season two, with an established relationship, where it's like when Gordon kidnaps Dean, but instead of just Dean he also kidnaps reader. (I can imagine if it's a Dean x reader Gordon uses reader to get Dean to not try anything, and if it's a Sam x reader Sam just going even more ballistic than he originally does in the show). Thank you!!"
Read it on AO3!
A/N: Beatles title. My first Sam fic! Honestly, it was really hard writing this one for some reason, and after five revisions I'm still not completely in love with it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy, and heed the warnings! Do not read if this will make you uncomfortable!
Sam Winchester Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist
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Gordon stared blankly at the wall in front of him while you tugged at the ropes on your wrists. A bandana was tied tightly around your mouth that tasted like dirt and your own blood. Dean was tied up to the left of you in a similar state, and both of you were staring down Gordon like it would kill him.
Traps lined every entrance from the doors to every small crack in the wall. Sam was powerful, but you doubted he could break through solid brick. Grenades, tripwire, even a shotgun trap that looked like something straight out of a movie; Gordon wanted Sam dead at all costs.
You knew your boyfriend would come to you and Dean’s rescue, but damn was this cutting it close. Gordon had already tried his best with Dean, but when it was your turn, he took his sweet-ass time.
He punched you, kicked you, even spit on you. Now, you tried your best to not scream as he dragged a knife against the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder.
You failed.
Biting down on the bandana, a muffled scream ripped through your lungs. You tried focusing on Dean, but he wouldn’t meet your eyes which were spilling over with more tears than you thought were in your body.
You could feel your blood dripping down your back and your chest, slithering its way to the floor as Gordon wiped his blade with the rag in his back pocket. He wrenched your head to the side, forcing the fresh wound close and for more tears to streak down your face.
He repeated his process on you a few times.
Your arms.
Your hands.
Your legs.
Every time somehow hurt more than the last, the hunter pulling open your skin and snapping it back together like a rubber band. Your vision was spotty, but you held steadfast to the thought that your boyfriend would be here any minute to save the day like he always did.
Gordon took a step back, wiping sweat and blood from his face and arms. He looked down at you with a glare that you’ve held plenty of times for the less-than-human creatures in the world. You guessed that, in his eyes, you, Sam, and Dean, were held in a similar regard.
Snaps.
Taunts.
Cracks.
Screams.
All because you fell in love with someone born under a bad sign.
You didn’t regret meeting Sam. Kissing him, falling for him, even the idea of just having him in your life was enough for your mind to justify the situation you were in. It wasn’t his fault you were having your life drained out of you minute by minute, and you hoped he would be smart enough to know that.
“Sam’s going to be here any minute, you know. Gotta convince himself he’s the hero of this story, and I’m the big,” Gordon turned to you, knife in hand, “bad, evil dragon. But I’m not the one with demon blood, am I, Y/N?” He placed the edge of the blade against the bottom of your chin. You could feel the cold steel heavy against your skin, and any sudden move would surely spill even more of your blood.
Dean glared at Gordon, his face shades of purple and blue, which mirrored the pain you felt along your entire body. Gordon dug the knife into the bottom of your chin, piercing your skin ever so slightly, but not enough to fatally wound you. Your mind was trying hard to hold onto the cracks of reality that remained in your vision; the smell of the dingy house you were in, the feeling of the carpet making contact with your boots, anything that wouldn’t send your consciousness reeling over was enough of an anchor for you to hang onto.
Gordon walked away from the two of you, returning to his position of peering out one of the boarded-up windows in wait for Sam. You glanced at Dean, which granted you a glance back from him. His eyes were dry, but they held enough behind them to let you know what he was thinking. Sam was going to burst into this booby-trapped hellhole, and Dean could do nothing but blame himself.
It’s all your fault, really, a thought that smashed through what you knew was the truth said.
This isn’t any of our faults, you told it back, wanting to tell Dean the same. Sam wasn’t to blame for the two of you being taken, and neither of you was at fault for being used as bait; it all landed in the hands of the rogue hunter who deemed himself holier-than-thou.
Though you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you were starting to resemble a bloody pulp more than a human being. Dean could barely look your way for longer than a second, and deep cuts that surged whether you moved or not continued to scrape away at your consciousness.
Gordon disappeared, and as you tried to turn your head to follow him, you felt a burning pain across your chest. Highlighted by a spurt of blood splattering over your thighs, you wanted to vomit. The top of your head started to feel like it was being lifted off from the rest of your skull, and the black spots in your vision connected at the edges of your eyes.
You grunted, head going slack and opening wounds on the back of your neck. Either spit, blood, or bile dripped out of your mouth, but at that moment you didn’t care- the black at the corners of your eyes bled together, and all you could do was limply hope Sam would find you.
You blinked, slowly, noticing light creeping in from the boarded-up windows. The second thing you noticed was the searing pain in your body, coupled with grunting and what you could guess was a well-landed punch.
“Y/N!” Someone called out to you, but you could barely lift your head to meet their voice. The bandana in your mouth was pulled away and hands cupped your face, warming your skin that was ice cold after losing so much blood.
The hands left your face and moved to the ropes at your wrists, cutting them off quickly and placing your arms in your lap. You forced your eyes up high enough to see it was your hero, Sam, standing before you with tears starting to fill his eyes. If your face would’ve let your smile, you would’ve, but every movement flashed the memory of Gordon cutting into you.
Gordon.
“Where’s-” You managed to sputter out through a sore jaw and a severely dry mouth.
“Dead,” Sam answered coldly. For the first time, you noticed his knuckles were a hue of bright purple, complimented with blood splattering up his arm. Sam moved your arms around his neck and picked you up as gently as he could.
“Dean’s already in the car patching himself up. I’m going to try and lay you down in the back seat so we can get to the closest hospital. I left Gordon in the room by the first door, so keep your head to my chest if you don’t want to see him, okay?” He asked softly. The tears that were in his eyes had faded slightly, but you could see the emotions he’d no doubt try to hide later on. Regret, blame, guilt - the more he looked at you, the more you could sense that your battered state was tearing away at his consciousness. You wanted to reach out, hold his face, and tell him you’d be okay, you’d survived worse, that it wasn’t his fault, but your thoughts were halted by Sam stepping past Gordon’s body.
If you could call it a body, that is.
His nose was sunken into his face enough that his eyes were slightly popping out of their sockets. His mouth had more gums than teeth, which were scattered around the room. He was lying against a dresser, and his limbs were spread out in the wrong directions. You thought you saw a bone, but before you could look closer, Sam turned and shut the door behind you.
Sam laid you across the back seats of the Impala, trying his best to be gentle with the abhorrent number of cuts across your body. You couldn’t guess how the hospital wasn’t going to ask questions, but you hoped the brothers would figure that out. Your head laid in Sam’s lap, and he looked out the window as Dean buried Gordon.
“Sam,” you slowly moved one of your arms to his face, bringing his attention to you, “thank you. You saved us both. You had to do what you had to do.”
Sam smiled but still didn’t say a word as he dipped down and planted a gentle kiss on your forehead.
You wanted to be able to tell him everything your racing mind was coming up with but were beaten by the overwhelming need to not move. Dean climbed into the front seat, beating the gas pedal to the floor and hitting the highway as Sam ran his fingers comfortingly through your hair.
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whimsyfinny · 1 month
Text
Fix Your Attitude
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: (Y/n) is just like an other woman trying to function in this fucked up world - and she's starts her day with coffee. At least that was always the plan until Dean interfered.
Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, slightly Dom! Dean, and if you squint there's maybe possessive/jealous Dean
MDNI! 18+
Word Count: 4470
A/N: So this is technically my first ever one shot! Woop! I've written this as part of my competition from a few weeks back, and this is for the wonderful winner @spookyysinsanity ! Hope you enjoyyy.
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“Seriously, Dean? What the actual fuck!?” The audacity of the older Winchester brother had me throwing my hands up in frustration, my irritable tone bouncing off the walls in the kitchen and landing on ears that couldn’t possibly care any less.
“Should’ve got here sooner, sweetheart. You know how it is; first come first serve,” he tauntingly raised his coffee mug to my dishevelled figure standing over the empty coffee pot. The lack of caffeinated bean-water had brought a panic-sweat to my temples, knowing all too well how things would pan out if I didn’t get what I needed.
“How many cups have you had?”
“What?” He blinked frustratingly slowly - he knew what I’d asked.
“Jerk - I said ‘how many cups have you had’?”
“Hmmm…” he tapped his finger against the side of the mug, lips pursing over feigned thoughts.
“DEAN.”
“Maybe… three?” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly - although the nonchalant bubble popped when a sly smirk slipped through the cracks. My mouth opened and closed a few times, words forming and disappearing too rapidly through my mind to even make it past my lips as desperation sizzled into rage.
“You DICK!”
“Hey don’t yell at me - just make another pot,” he held his hands up defensively.
My eyes flitted over to the empty tin on the side - an empty tin left tauntingly in plain sight.
“You know damn well I can’t do that! We’re out of coffee, totally out. Zilch. Nothing. Empty.”
“Well,” he lifted his mug to his lips, “not totally empty.”
“What do you- oh…OH,” I felt my razor sharp glare zero in on the mug at his lips - there had to be at least half a cup in there with how little he had to tilt it up before taking a gulp. I took a step forward and jabbed my finger towards the prize.
“Give me that.”
He offered me nothing but raised eyebrows and a loud slurp.
“Dean.”
Again, silence only echoed back, however my frustration towards him started to buzz in my head as he slowly lowered the mug to unveil a slap-worthy grin.
“DEAN.”
He gently placed the mug on the table and turned to me, large arms crossing over his broad chest as he settled in his chair, thighs spreading wide for comfort.
“Wow, I thought I was grouchy in the mornings before coffee but damn, sweetheart you’re really claiming first place with that one.”
I took a step closer, my eyes practically burning a hole in the cup next to him on the table. His grin widened as he noticed me stalking forwards, like a predator ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. However my prey was incredibly suspecting and, in all honesty, not really prey at all. My bare feet padded quietly towards him, each tentative step raising more suspicion in Dean as my desperation for caffeine became all-consuming and my honed hunting skills became sloppy. I gave myself away when I tore my gaze from the mug and glanced over at Dean, catching his amused smirk and playful eyes before I lunged forward, hands grasping at air where the liquid-treasure should have been. Spinning on my heel after almost colliding with the table I turned to face Dean, now standing a few steps behind me with one hand wrapped around the ceramic and the other dipping lazily into the pocket of his jeans.
“Come on darlin’ you’re better than that.”
“Fuck you.”
A low whistle floated in the air between us before he tutted at me, shaking his head slowly.
“So mean.”
“Says you!”
“Hey I got here first - I'm the victim here. You're the one trying to rob me.”
“Don't play that game - you are not the victim here. All of your bullshit has been calculated,” I narrowed my eyes up at him as he traced his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Maybe it has been. Not much you can do about it now though is there?” His eyes glinted like the tricksters before he took another gulp of his coffee. I could feel my palms growing sweaty in apprehension, knowing all too well that the coffee level was dropping inside that cup.
Time to try a different approach. Something more… tactical.
“You know…” I pulled a lock of hair between my fingers, twirling it around, “you're my favourite Winchester.”
I paused and he raised his eyebrows, suspecting yet silently urging for more.
“Sam is just so nice and tall but…” I quietly stepped towards him, inwardly cheering when he made no attempt to move away.
“But?”
“But I mean look at you, so ruggedly handsome… and with that authentic ‘tough guy’ personality to make all the ladies swoon. And don't even get me started on these broad shoulders and big arms of yours…” I padded around him, tracing a single finger delicately up one arm, over the back of his shoulders and down the other arm. I almost missed the small shiver that ghosted over his skin and raised the hairs on his exposed forearms.
“Oh, so you like what you see?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice subtly dropping to a deeper tone.
I chewed my bottom lip slightly before stopping in front of him, a hair's breadth away. From here I could smell the masculine scent of his cologne - the same one I'd only ever known him to wear - and the subtle, intoxicating scent of leather and gunpowder. Combined, those three items were the very essence of Dean, the warmth of it all clinging to his clothes and practically seeping from his pores. I couldn't stop myself from taking a deep breath and letting the hypnotic scent travel straight to my brain. He’d always smelt divine, but I was never going to give him the satisfactory access to that information.
Upon tilting my head up to lock eyes with him, I could feel his coffee-scented breath fan over my face, the smell of what I wanted most almost making my mouth water. I couldn't let myself become enveloped in the addictive haze around him - I needed to remember what I was here for without letting myself become distracted.
Evergreen eyes flitted between mine, unsure of my next move. But the more I looked into them, the more dilated his pupils became. I couldn't help but grin a little to myself, relishing in his reaction.
“Come on Dean, just hand over the coffee. I know deep down that you really want to…”
He hummed, the sound a little gravelly as it emanated from his chest.
“You see sweetheart,” he smirked a little as he gripped the mug, lifting it to his lips. The action immediately caused me to take an urgent step forwards, a part of me truly believing that he would drain the cup right there and then. He must've seen the panic jolt through me as he released a small, breathy laugh.
“I see what?”
“You see… I don't think it's coffee that you need to stop being such a bitch in the morning.”
My eyes immediately narrowed towards him at his choice of words. He can make it so easy to look past his good looks when he acts like such an ass.
“What the actual fuck does that mean?”
“Oh I think you know what it means.”
“Fuck you, Dean.”
“If you want.”
“Go to- wait what?” I felt my heart leap in my chest, my mind unsure if I wanted to have heard him correctly.
His smirk spread across his face as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his mossy green gaze dragging over my figure as though I were totally naked.
“You heard me,” he took a step forward, his boots heavy on the hard kitchen floor. My cheeks burned, and I wasn't sure if it was from whatever scandalous thoughts of him I'd pushed to the back of my mind that I never intended to humour, or the rage bubbling to the surface at the sheer audacity from him, thinking I'd just accept this sort of shitty attitude.
“You’re crazy if you think that I’d let you in my pants,” the bewilderment in my voice was evident, and so was the growing frustration. This conversation had taken a wild turn and it’s safe to say that I didn’t like the direction it was headed. It was a rocky path of buried desires and a cocky male ego - a male ego that somehow knew what buttons to press to get my temper sizzling.
“Oh but sweetheart I could make it so good…” his voice was like caramel, becoming harder to ignore as he took another step forward, backing me into the table. I swallowed the almost nervous lump that had started to form in my throat, my heart rate quickening with every second he looked at me with those darkening eyes.
“And why would you want to do that?” I did well at hiding the slight nervous wobble in my voice. He chuckled slightly before breaking eye contact and looking down at his boots, thinking for a moment before shooting his eyes back to me, his intense gaze burning into mine.
“Because for once, I’d love to see that smart mouth of yours moan my name.”
I couldn’t stop that small gasp that escaped between my parted lips at his sudden bold statement, and that small gasp seemed to be all that it took to invite Dean in. In one fluid movement he drained the remainder of the coffee into his mouth and took a final step forward, closing the gap between us and wrapped a single strong arm around my waist, pulling me firmly against his body. His other hand quickly discarded the mug before grasping my face, his thumb pushing into my cheek and urging me to open my mouth. Before I was able to conjure a single thought he’d pulled my mouth to his, his plush lips covering mine before transferring that mouthful of coffee over to me. My eyes widened at the sudden appearance of warm liquid gliding over my tongue, the flavour of coffee, sweetened with sugar, would have soothed my senses if it wasn’t for the way it was administered. I hurriedly swallowed it down, not caring for the trickle that escaped the corner of my lips, now more preoccupied with Dean Winchesters mouth pressing onto mine. He allowed one… two… three heated kisses before pulling away, leaving me gasping and gripping the edge of the table for dear life. As he pulled away, he released his grip on my jaw, spotting the trickle of coffee and catching the droplets with his thumb. I didn’t intend to dwell on the action too much, at least not until he pushed his coffee-coated thumb past my lips and into my mouth, pressing lightly on my tongue. Still taken aback by the kiss, I stared up at him dumbly, my mind simultaneously racing whilst emptying itself of all logical thoughts. On instinct, I licked the coffee from his thumb, hearing a gruff hum of approval from him.
“Look at you - quiet for once.”
Before I could retaliate to his comment he pulled his thumb from my mouth and grasped my jaw again, a little softer this time as he guided my face to his. His lips grazed mine as he spoke.
“Have you finished acting like a bitch?”
I nodded.
“Are you sure? Because I think I should fuck you on this table here - just to be sure.”
The involuntary shiver that shimmied down my spine gave my innermost thoughts away when Dean noticed it; another smirk gracing his lips as he pulled himself between my knees and grasped under my thighs to lift me onto the table. I hissed slightly as the cold surface bit at my bare rear, the oversized Metallica t-shirt doing nothing to shield me as it rode up on my hips. There was a short moment, like a breath taken and held as we paused to look at each other. His eyes darkened like a forest at dusk, piercing into my own before studying my lips. I found myself doing the same to him, watching how his gaze darted up and down, frantic to find a focal point on my face whilst his lips parted, tongue poking out to wet them. We shared each other's hot coffee-scented breath, my heartbeat starting to echo in my ears as my blood began to run hot at the thought of him taking me right here on this table. He chewed slightly on his bottom lip, the fantasies of my own prurient mind running rampant at what that mouth was capable of doing to me. What I undeniably wanted it to do to me. Before another thought appeared he hastily leaned in and planted a searing kiss on my neck, his stubble tickling my ear whilst one large, strong hand planted itself just below my shoulder blades; his whole arm crushing me against him. Everything he did made me want to purr. His lips exceeded expectations as he kissed red-hot paths up and down my neck; my skin prickling when he pressed his lips below my ear and jaw, pulling pathetic whimpers from my lungs. He kneaded the silky-soft flesh of my thigh with his other hand, eventually causing me to gently hook my legs around him to ease the desperate need to writhe at his every touch.
“Dean…” his name left my lips as an airy gasp when the hand on my thigh travelled up, his thumb hooking under the waistband of my panties.
“What happened to that big, tough girl persona? Can’t really take it huh?” His taunting words went straight to my brain when he spoke them with his lips pressed right to my ear.
“Fuck, Dean… I hate you.”
He chuckled, placing a kiss on my cheek before uttering over my lips:
“Of course you do, sweetheart.”
As his sentence ceased as his mouth claimed mine, muffling the moan bubbling in my throat as his tongue pushed against my own. I reached one hand up to tug on his hair, dragging my nails across his scalp when the strands at the base of his skull were too short to grasp. He groaned into the kiss, lips moving faster at the sensation of my fingertips. His broad chest became a resting spot for my other hand, the taught muscle flexing beneath soft skin as I glided my delicate fingers up to clutch his shoulder. It was like being in a trance; the only thing I was capable of thinking about was him. Dean. The strength of his hand on my back contrasting the tenderness of the one on my thigh. The heat of his mouth, his tongue on mine, consuming my gasps and ragged breaths. His devouring reduced me to naught but lustful putty in his arms, especially when an assured hand slid from my hip to my ribs and a gentle thumb smoothed over the softness of the underside of my breast. The feather-light touch caused goosebumps to erupt on my skin, the warmth of his palm doing nothing to soothe them away. When a groan passed my lips at his actions, he gripped tighter, my legs instinctively pulling him closer. This time it was Dean that groaned, as pulling him towards me had pressed the ever-growing bulge in his jeans against the soft cotton of my panties. The sensation was electric, igniting the fiery ache between my legs as my thighs twitched when he didn't pull away - instead pushing himself against me harder. I sucked in a breath where I could, his lips refusing to leave mine, even to let me breathe. He was hungry. Animalistic. Dominating. I don't know what I'd been imagining when I was alone in my room in the depths of night, but this… this was something I'd never fantasised about. How commanding he was, how he pulled me in with stern words and an air of authority. Gone was the boyish charm and playful pickup lines - this was something that could easily suck me in and pull me under. He could drown me in sharp comments and tantalising games.
And I would let him.
“Look at you, twitching like a virgin,” he pulled away enough to huskily speak against the corner of my mouth. I moaned slightly, biting my lip when his thumb moved from the underside of my breast to my nipple, delicately toying with the perky skin.
“Who's to say I'm not?” My voice was more breathy than I'd anticipated, my head lolling back when he started to trail kisses down my neck again. My comment pulled a laugh from his chest, the sound almost cutting through the sexual haze.
“Oh darlin’, don't think I don't know about your motel room escapades - I was always in the room next to yours,” he finally pulled back slightly to look at me, the cool air flooding between us in his absence. As my eyes met his, my heart hammered in my chest at the raw blackness of his irises - pupils blown wide with hot arousal and leaving no soft greens in sight. I could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment, realisation creeping in. Dean took it all in with a grin on his lips.
“That's right sweetheart - I heard it all. Every little noise you made when those jerk-offs touched you. When they tried to make you feel good,” his smile faltered slightly before he leaned in a little closer, “but you know, I never heard any of them make you cum. I only ever heard you finish when they were gone and you were all alone.”
He pressed more of those red-hot kisses just below my jaw, the hand on my breast descending, trailing a path down the soft skin of my abdomen before disappearing down the front of my panties. A moan tore from my throat when he slid his skilled fingers through my folds to gather my pooling wetness, his hum of approval ringing in my ears when my mind emptied at his fingers tracing circles around my clit. My grip on him was vice-like, whimpers already tumbling off my tongue.
“You know (Y/n), you should've just come to me. You should've told those useless bastards to fuck off and let me do everything you needed me to do,” his breath was hot against my neck as he spoke, and he finished his sentence off by finally pressing a rough finger against my clit. I whined like a bitch in heat as he went around and around and around, making me clench around nothing and crave him in his entirety.
“I would've done this to you every night - made you forget everything but my name.”
“Dean…”
“Thas’right sweetheart. Never would've left you unsatisfied.”
“Please, Dean… please… I need you to fuck me,” my words were desperate and I could tell he relished in that, suddenly plunging two thick digits inside me without so much as a word. My hands flew to his back, nails digging into broad muscle as I leaned into him, burying my flushed face into his neck and breathing in his intoxicating scent. He curled his fingers up and pushed against the pleasure-cushion inside me, knowing exactly what to look for and what to do with it. My legs tightened even more around him as I was unable to stop the euphoric twitches jolting through my limbs. He removed his hand that was pressed below my shoulder blades and lifted it to my hair, unclipping the claw-grip to let the unruliness tumble out. He practically chucked the plastic clip to the table before threading his fingers through my hair, grasping close to my scalp before tugging my head back to make me look at him.
“Now that you've dropped your attitude and asked nicely, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk.”
He pressed his fingers inside me one final time, drawing another pathetic whimper from my lips before pulling his fingers out and lifting them to his lips. I watched, mouth agape and breaths ragged as he licked my slick from his digits, savouring the taste of me with a satisfied groan.
“That’s the best shit I’ve ever tasted,” his deep, gravelly tone had me reaching desperately for his belt buckle as Dean claimed my mouth again, his own eagerness starting to show. As I finished unzipping his jeans I pushed them down his hips just enough to dip my hand into his boxers and pull his cock free. A deep moan pushed its way into my mouth as I curled my fingers around his length, his size already intimidating as his cock rested hot and heavy in my palm. I wasted no time on gripping him tight, starting gentle motions going up and down again, and again, and again, causing Dean to move both hands to my thighs - his grip on me threatening to leave bruises. I dragged my thumb over his tip, urging a blissful shudder to surge through him as I smeared the gathering precum up and down his length. His lips never once left mine. I could feel him becoming breathless as I slowly increased the speed of my hand, so I caught his bottom lip between my teeth as a means to pull away for a moment. As I breathed in his contented groan, I pulled back slightly further to get a look at his face.
“Dean… Dean please - I need you inside me-”
“Stop fucking around then and c’mere.”
I squeaked a little at his harsh tone, unable to stop the next words from tumbling out.
“Yessir.”
I watched his brows knit together and his eyes almost roll before he dropped his head to my neck, grabbing the underside of my thighs and dragging me right to the edge of the table. With one hand he grabbed his cock and used it to move my underwear to one side before lining up and sinking in. The lascivious moans that spilled from our lips were almost harmonious, Dean pushing in to the hilt and forcing me to wrap one arm around his neck and the other to prop me up behind me - both stopping me from losing my balance under Deans intensity. Dean looked as though he was getting lost in a sexual haze as he crushed me against him again with one arm, having the decency to remain still for a few moments so I could adjust to his size as he eye-wateringly stretched out my insides - the sensation almost burning.
“Jesus- fuck-” his breath was slightly strained as he groaned into my neck, “now I’m mad that you decided to fuck lonely jerk-offs instead of me - with a pussy like this- shit- I would’ve been crawling back for more.”
He started to move slowly, pulling out gently before slipping back in - easing me into it with sexual expertise.
“Oh fuck- Dean- you don’t mean that-”
“(Y/n) you’d have to shoot me to stop me - you feel too fucking good.”
He started to up the tension - dropping every ounce of softness as he lost control of that part of him. He fucked the same way that he hunted monsters: raw, skilful and always in control - my mind racing with the knowledge of how dangerous this man actually was. He was Dean fucking Winchester, and here he was - fucking me over the breakfast table whilst I wore nothing but a band t-shirt. As he pounded into me and the intensity grew I was unable to stop the lewd noises tumbling from my lips. Such lewd noises however seemed to spur Dean on, the power of his thighs and hips inching the heavy wooden table across the floor.
“How are you still so fucking tight-” his words were almost slurred, his sexually inebriated mind seemingly becoming obsessed.
“Shit- Dean, I’m getting close already,” my eyes squeezed shut as I began to feel that familiar knot in the depths of my core. With every thrust he dragged over every over-sensitive nerve ending, unravelling me quicker than I’d even been unravelled before.
“Oh yeah? You wanna cum?”
I nodded my head vigorously, loose strands of hair falling around my face as tears started to well in my eyes. Dean glanced down at me without so much as a stutter in his hips, a slight grin playing on his lips even in a moment like this.
“Tears?”
“Fuck-fuck- you Dean, it's not my f-fault you're the first one to fuck me properly- oh God-”
“Well I'm glad it was me sweetheart,” he tried to keep up the slightly playful tone but I could see in his eyes that he was on the brink as well. Without another word he moved one hand to push lightly on my lower belly, his thumb dipping down to rub soft circles over that oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves. I gasped at the contact, Dean taking the opportunity to plant uncharacteristically soft kisses on my parted lips before whispering:
“I need you to cum for me - I need you to let go. I've got you darlin’.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The circles drawn with his thumb increased in speed and as did the pounding of his hips against mine.
“Dean- Dean please-”
I could feel him winding that knot tighter, and tighter, and tighter; lifting the euphoria coursing through my veins to its highest peak before the white-hot heat of orgasmic bliss erupted inside me. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure cascaded down, drowning me in the most earth shattering climax I'd ever experienced. I could feel myself tightening repeatedly around Dean, his thrusts becoming frantic before his own release rolled through him.
“Oh Fuck- (Y/n)-”
His guttural groan into the crook of my neck sent a shiver down my spine and goosebumps across my skin, the sound of him cumming making me clench even tighter around him.
“You squeeze me any tighter darlin’ and you're gonna kill me,”
“I-I’m not- I mean- I'm sorry?”
He groaned again when I twitched slightly, this time he pulled back to look me in the eye, taking note of the drying tear-tracks and smudged mascara.
“You good?”
“Y-yeah, I'm good,” I huffed out a deep, contented sigh, "I am so, so good.”
He grinned, the assertiveness from earlier seeming to dissipate and the good ‘ol Dean was returning.
“Best you've ever had?” His green eyes twinkled mischievously.
I playfully slapped his shoulder, not impacting the smirk on his lips whatsoever.
“Easy there cowboy - if your ego gets any bigger there'll be no living with you.”
“You didn't answer my question.”
I chewed on my bottom lip slightly, making him wait a little for the answer before I replied with a grin of my own.
“Yeah, definitely the best I've ever had.”
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Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200
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kaleldobrev · 1 year
Text
Old Man
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader Summary: Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: Age Gap, Cursing (13x), Sexual Innuendos, Dean talking bad about himself, Frat guys giving Y/N the disrespect she doesn’t deserve Authors Note: Me and Jensen have a 17-year age gap – what’s your age gap? | This came out A LOT longer than I expected | I don’t know how to write frat guys xD | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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You and Dean pulled up in front of a gas station; needing to stop for gas and maybe a few snacks before the two of you continued your almost four-hour long journey back to the Bunker. You and Dean had just spent the weekend in Lawrence, due to the very rare occurrence that there were no cases. You had told Dean that even though you’d been living at the Bunker with him and Sam for the past couple of years, you had never once been to Lawrence even though you could have easily made a day trip out of it. With that being said, Dean was more than happy to take you and show you around, reminiscing about some of the things that he remembered doing all those years ago back when he was four; back before everything. But that’s not all the trip was, you had done some other things too; like visiting the Biodiversity Institute and Natural History Museum – which was considered to be one of the best museums in the entire state of Kansas, along with Grinter Farms – who prided themselves on their sunflower photo-ops. You enjoyed both places immensely, and were happy that Dean did too, even if he wasn’t initially keen on going to either place at first.
“I’m gonna grab us some snacks while you do the pump.” You said, grabbing your wallet from the glove compartment. Once you closed it and before you exited the car, you looked over at Dean, who was currently giving you the most serious look on his face. “What?”
“You already know what I’m going to say Sweetheart.” His tone sounding just as serious as his facial expression had looked. 
“Pie.” You said in unison.
“Cherry or apple?” You asked, the two of you getting out of the car at the same time.
“Like you have to ask.” Dean stated, opening up the fuel cap.
“Just making sure Dean. I mean, I don’t want to come out with apple when you really wanted cherry.” Your comment earned a slight chuckle from him.
“I’ll be getting some cherry pie later, don’t you worry.” He winked.
“I don’t think that applies to me anymore.” You smirked.
“We can always pretend.” He started fueling Baby just then. 
“Now that’s a roleplay idea I can get behind.” You winked at him before making your way into the store.
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As soon as you walked into the store to grab some snacks for the two of you – one of which needed to be pie; a car pulled up the next pump over with a group of about four men who all appeared to be from the University of Kansas solely based on their Jayhawks apparel. “I don’t know dude. I’m pretty sure that chick was into me.” One of the men said, causing the one that he was talking to, to roll his eyes.
“No dude. She was into me. She was giving me the old fuck me eyes. Did you not see that? Or were you too busy looking at her ass?” He laughed. It was the other guy’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Can you blame me? You could bounce a quarter off that thing.” The young man replied.
“Hell yeah you could!” The other one agreed, giving each other a high five. 
There was a part of Dean that found their conversation funny because he had remembered when he was like that; but it hadn’t been for some time. Yes, there were times when he was still like that, but it was solely reserved for one woman: and that woman was you.
“Check out that piece of ass in the store there.” Another one of the men who hadn’t talked before was talking now. His comment caused Dean to turn in their direction and then back into the store. There was no other person that they could be talking about but you, as you were the only person in there besides the clerk behind the counter; and Dean was pretty sure they weren’t talking about the balding clerk.
“Bet she’s a good fuck.” One of the men said. Oh you have no idea. Dean thought to himself. 
“I’ll bet you thirty bucks that I can convince her to have sex with me.” The first guy said, the one that had noticed you in the first place.
“Dude, there’s no fucking way she’d have sex with you.” The next guy said. “Look at her! She’s way out of your league. Plus, even if you could pull her, where are the two of you gonna do it uh? The dirty gas station bathroom?” 
“Sure why not? I bet she wouldn’t mind it at all.” He winked. His comment caused Dean to chuckle a little to himself, knowing how wrong that guy was. You and Dean have had sex in a variety of different places, but never a gas station bathroom. “Dean, as much as I love you, I’m not fucking in a gas station bathroom. That’s honestly my only limitation.” You once told him. “So, Waffle House bathroom is okay then?” He joked back, causing you to give him a playful smack on the arm from his remark. 
“Dude, she’s not gonna give you the time of day. She needs a real man. And that ain’t you.” The man started walking around to the other side of the pump and started making his way toward the store. You ain’t a real man dude. Dean thought to himself. None of them were what he would call a man, only boys pretending to be.
“Watch and learn boys!” The guy said using his most charismatic voice. Dean wasn’t worried at all; he knew that you would never give the guy the time of day. You two had been together for the last couple of years, and the group of quote on quote men weren’t remotely your type in the slightest. Dean had seen pictures of your previous exes or have worked cases with them before. All your previous exes besides about one were all hunters; not varsity jock looking guys, and that’s what those guys were.
“Hey kid, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean finally chimed in. At first, he wasn’t even going to say anything. He had almost wanted to see the boy come back out the store with the look of utter embarrassment on his face when you had rejected him; which he knew was going to happen. But the jealous side of him won in that moment. He knew that you were more than capable of handling yourself – you were one of the best hunters he’d ever seen or worked with. He’d seen you get hit on plenty of times either when you two went to the bar together or while working a case; but those men never seemed like threats to him. But this time, this time felt different for him.
“I’m sorry?” The guy questioned.
“I said, I wouldn’t if I were you.” Dean said, his voice a bit more stern than usual.
“What’s it to you?” The guy asked, giving a slight snort.
“She’s going to reject you buddy. Trust me.” Dean finished filling the car up and put the pump back in its place. “Just trying to save you the embarrassment in front of your buddies here.”
“Oh yeah? Why do you say that?” The guy turned to look at you. You were currently standing at the counter laughing, probably at something the clerk had just said with two apple pie containers in your hands. Although Dean couldn’t hear your laugh, the sound of it echoed in his brain. God, he loved the sound of your laugh.
“That piece of ass” Dean began to say, hating using the words that they had used to describe you, “is my girlfriend.” Dean smirked. He had hoped that his usual tactic would work like it had done in the past. In the past, whenever Dean was with a woman; regardless if she was his girlfriend or not, the minute he said the word girlfriend to another guy that was hitting on his girlfriend, date, etc. the guy would usually back off, not wanting to get into any trouble. But his usual tactic didn’t work, it had simply just made the guy laugh.
“Your girlfriend?” The man laughed again. “Yeah, okay Old Man.” 
“Old, Old Man?” Dean was caught off guard. No one had ever really called him an old man before; the only one who ever did it was Claire, but she was the exception, because she was basically family to him.
“Yeah. What are you? Like 50?” The guy behind him chimed in.
Dean turned around. “50? You think I’m 50? I’m 42 dude.” Yet more laughter from the men.
“Close enough.” The man that was close to the store said. At that moment Dean had saw you wave goodbye to the clerk and started to head out toward the door. The man looked at you, and then eyed his buddies, making his way toward Dean. “Listen, tell her that if she wants someone that can keep it up without the use of meds and doesn’t go to bed before 6, to give me a call.” The guy said, giving Dean’s shoulder a slight pat before going into the car with his other three buddies.
Dean started to take out his gun just as the guy in the driver’s seat started the engine. Before he could fully take out his gun you were standing next to him, two boxes of pie in your hands and a slight look of worry on your face. “Can I shoot them?” He asked you. 
“Not in public.” You responded, handing him one of the boxes. “What did they say to you?” You were curious, and you had every right to be. Even though you were accustomed to Dean pulling out his gun, you were confused as to why he had wanted to pull it out in that moment, especially since you were pretty sure that the men in the car weren’t any kind of monsters.
“Nothing.” Dean was quick to respond, but his response sounded angry, almost hurt.
“It didn’t look like nothing. Especially since you asked if you could shoot them.” Dean handed you back the box of pie that you had just given him, causing you to give him an even more worried look.
“Can we just leave?” His voice was panicked now, maybe with a small hint of embarrassment.
“Yeah.” Was all you said as the two of you got into Baby.
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There was a strong silence between the two of you, and it wasn’t the comfortable kind like you were used to. That was one of the things that you had loved most about Dean; that you and him didn’t constantly need to fill the silence with talking. It was something that you enjoyed because your past boyfriends always needed to have some kind of conversation going because they hated the silence. “Y/N, can I ask you something?”
“Always.” You turned your attention to Dean.
“Am I…Am I old?” He asked. His eyes flicked in your direction and then back onto the road.
“Old?” You asked, not sure if you had heard him right. Him asking if he was old was something that had caught you off guard.
“Yeah. Am I old?” He repeated again.
“Did those guys back there say you were old Dean?” This conversation topic was something that Dean would have never brought up, not unless someone had specifically said something to him. The last time he had this conversation with you was because Claire had jokingly called him an Old Man.
“You didn’t answer the question.” Dean stated. You were positive that’s what it was.
“No. You’re not old Dean. I don’t even know why you would think that.” You knew why he would think that; you were pretty sure that the men back at the gas station had said something to him about it. But you didn’t know why they would have said something to him.
“Those guys back at the gas station called me…Old Man.” His voice sounded slightly defeated, like he was embarrassed even though he had no reason to be. “I caught those assholes looking at you, making comments.” He turned to face you for a slight moment before looking back at the road, his knuckles started to turn white as his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “They were trying to make a bet about who would be able to pick you up. When I confronted them about it, telling them that you were my girlfriend, that’s when they laughed and called me an old man.”
“Dean –” You began to say, but he cut you off before you could finish.
“Sweetheart, I know you could have handled that yourself. You have a black belt in three different martial arts and you don’t take any kind of shit from anyone. Hell, a part of me had wanted to see you embarrass the guy because I know for a fact that he isn’t your type but…he was your age.” He was your age. 
“Well, you’re not old. It’s not like you’re 90 Dean. You’re 42. That’s still young.” You stated, putting your hand on his thigh, a small gesture that you knew he loved. You had hoped that your comment would make him feel slightly better.
“I’m not young Sweetheart, you are. I got like 15 years on you.” His response made your face drop.
“That’s never been a problem for you before. I mean, it’s not like I’m 17 Dean, I’m three years shy of 30.” When you first met Dean, it was roughly five years ago when you were 22 and he was 37. Initially when you had first met him, you had figured that the two of you would be nothing more than just friends due to the semi-massive age difference that there was between the two of you, despite the fact that you did find him attractive. For the first couple of years that you knew him, you didn’t try to pursue anything; and neither did he, although the two of you had similar feelings. Dean had figured that you wouldn’t want to be with someone his age, and you thought that he didn’t want to be with someone your age. It wasn’t until Cas said something and both of you almost dying on a hunt that caused you two to realize that maybe you should give it a shot – and you’ve been together ever since.
“Exactly. You’re three years shy of 30. I’m far, far past that. You know what I was doing at 30? Trying to stop the Apocalypse. When I was 30, you were still in high school. You weren’t even on my radar back then.” 
“Would have been pretty good jailbait though.” You joked.
“Not funny.” He responded.
“I’m not laughing.” You said back.
“Can I ask you another question?” His knuckles were still white against the steering wheel. 
“Of course.” What else could you possibly say?
“Why me? Why out of all the guys you could possibly be with, that are your own age, that you actively choose to be with me? I mean, I know I drink too much, I have way, way too many screws loose, I’ve been to Hell, Purgatory, been possessed more times than I can count, I have major trust issues, PTSD.” He looked over at you again. “The list goes on and on. I’m all kinds of fucked up Sweetheart.” Your heart sank at Dean’s comments. You hated more than anything when he talked bad about himself, because there was no reason for him to do that. 
“Pull over.” Was all you said.
Dean looked at you with a confused expression. “What?”
“Did I stutter? I said pull over.” Your voice was stern now, but it made Dean pull over on the side of the road.
“Dean, the fact that you even have to ask me why I’m with you shows me that you don’t actually realize or understand the reasons why I love you. You’re right, I could be with someone my own age. But you know what? I don’t want to. I’ve dated people my age, and they honestly suck. Hunters or not, men my age or even a year or two older have no fucking clue what they want in life. The only thing they’re positive about is wanting to fuck anything that has a pulse and gaslight women.” You let out a frustrated sigh. “My parents used to tell me, ‘not all men,’ and I knew that. You may have a slight case of alcoholism –”
“A slight case?” Dean interrupted, raising an eyebrow. He thought you saying that he only had a slight case of alcoholism was a tad too generous.
You pointed a finger at him. “Don’t interrupt me.” Dean put up his hands in defeat. “As I was saying. You may have a slight case of alcoholism, are insanely prone to nightmares, get angry more often than you probably should, enjoy murder every now and then, have been to Hell and Purgatory and back, but wanna know something? I’ll take all of that, gladly! Because you are honestly the best man I could ever ask for. Yes, you have some flaws, but who doesn’t? I mean look at me for example.” You went into your jacket and pulled out your hunting knife. “I’m someone who brings a hunting knife wherever they go like it’s a security blanket. No normal person does that Dean.”
“As you should. You need to be prepared at a moments notice.” He agreed.
“Exactly! No sane person would agree with me.” You said, putting back your hunting knife.
“Y/N, are you saying that part of the reason you’re with me is because I’m not sane?” He raised an eyebrow. He’s been called crazy or insane more times than he could count, so this wasn’t particularly newsworthy for him.
“I was thinking more…cautious.” You shrugged. “I mean…No, cautious isn’t the right word. You are cautious but…” You were really trying to come up with the right word to tell Dean, and you could feel it on the tip of your tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, any other guy would be freaked the fuck out if they saw me walking around with a hunting knife in my jacket. You? You couldn’t give two fucks. And you wanna know something else? I’ve worked with a lot of hunters over the years before I met up with you and Sam, who just looked at me and laughed because of my age, thinking that I don’t know the difference between rock salt and holy water.” You took one of his hands in yours intertwining your fingers. “You, not including Sam of course, accepted me as someone that actually knows a thing or two about hunting despite my age. You treated me like your equal. Hunter or not.”
You treated me like your equal. Your words rang in Dean’s mind. “Of course I treat you like my equal Sweetheart. What man wouldn’t? ‘Sides those other hunters and the Jayhawks spirit squad back there.” He chuckled, and you let out a small laugh too.
“Exactly. You’re a feminist icon.” You smiled.
“A feminist icon uh? Who knew?” Dean finally smiled.
“In all seriousness, I could give a rat’s ass about your age. You treat me right and my parents love you. What else could I possibly ask for?” You gave his hand a slight squeeze as you shot him another smile, but a softer one this time.
“Still amazed that your parents love me.” He said, starting to lean in closer to you.
“You treat their daughter right. That’s all they care about.” You confessed. When you had first told your parents about Dean, one of the first things they asked is if he was treating you right, they never asked about his age. And when they had met him, they still never commented on that fact, even when he wasn’t in the room.
He caressed your face. “I really am lucky to have you.” He smiled and leaned in fully to kiss you. “I love you so much.”
You smiled. “I love you more.”
He let out a slight chuckle. “Show off.”
“Always.” You responded, leaning in to kiss him again.
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dianawinchester03 · 6 months
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Genesis Primis: A Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist
Book 1 of The Old Testament Series by @dianawinchester03
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=====================================
Season One (Complete!)
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Prologue - Enter Y/N L/N
Season 1, Episode 1 - Pilot
Season 1, Episode 2 - Wendigo
Season 1, Episode 3 - Dead in Water
Season 1, Episode 4 - Phantom Traveler
Season 1, Episode 5 - Bloody Mary
Season 1, Episode 6 - Skin
Season 1, Episode 7 - Hook Man
Season 1, Episode 8 - Bugs
Season 1, Episode 9 - Home
Season 1, Episode 10 - Asylum
Season 1, Episode 11 - Scarecrow
Season 1, Episode 12 - Faith
Season 1, Episode 13 - Route 666
Season 1, Episode 14 - Nightmare
Season 1, Episode 15 - The Benders
Season 1, Episode 16 - Shadow
Season 1, Episode 17 - Hell House
Season 1, Episode 18 - Something Wicked
Season 1, Episode 19 - Provenance
Season 1, Episode 20 - Dead Man’s Blood
Season 1, Episode 21 - Salvation
Season 1, Episode 22 - Devil’s Trap
Season 1 - Gag Reel
Season Two (Ongoing)
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Season 2, Episode 1 - In My Time Of Dying
Season 2, Episode 2 - Everybody Loves A Clown
Season 2, Episode 3 - Bloodlust
Season 2, Episode 4 - Children Shouldn’t Play With Dead Things
Season 2, Episode 5 - Simon Said
Season 2, Episode 6 - No Exit
Season 2, Episode 7 - The Usual Suspects
Season 2, Episode 8 - Crossroad Blues
Season 2, Episode 9 - Croatoan
Season 2, Episode 10 - Hunted
Season 2, Episode 11 - Playthings
Season 2, Episode 12 - Nightshifter
Season 2, Episode 13 - Houses of the Holy
Season 2, Episode 14 - Born Under A Bad Sign
Season 2, Episode 15 - Tall Tales
Season 2, Episode 16 - Roadkill
Season 2, Episode 17 - Heart (coming soon)
Season 2, Episode 18 - Hollywood Babylon (coming soon)
Season 2, Episode 19 - Folsom Prison Blues (coming soon)
Season 2, Episode 20 - What Is and What Should Never Be (coming soon)
Season 2, Episode 21 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 1 (coming soon)
Season 2, Episode 22 - All Hell Breaks Loose: Part 2 (coming soon)
Season 2 Gag Reel (coming soon)
_____________________
Also available on:
📖; ao3
📖; wattpad
_____________________
Authors Note:
I finally learnt how to do a Masterlist! Hallelujah now life will be easier for you guys. Hope you check out my book and enjoy🫶 I’ll update the list after each chapter release.
Update:
I just want to say thank you to everyone for giving my book a chance. I am very new to writing so I’m no Shakespeare lol, but I’m giving and doing my best. With all the overwhelming endless support and love I’m receiving at this very moment, it’s so much more than I can ask for and so much more than I deserve. I appreciate every single bit from the bottom of my heart🥹
Xoxo
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goldenispunk · 4 months
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pov: your camera roll from life on the road with the Winchesters
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gilverrwrites · 7 months
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Hi
Could you make a Sam Winchester having erotic dreams with his female best friend?
Author Note: Hello! I hope you don't mind, but I combined this request with your other request for Dean in the same scenario (and added Cas cause 😍) I'm also working on a separate fic for Dean having erotic dreams about a rival per that request. I really hope you enjoy! ❤️
Rating: M/18+
Words: 1940 (Dean 685, Sam 685, Cas 570)
Request Info | Masterlist | Ko-Fi
It's a total coincidence that Dean and Sam are both 685 each!
Please remember: To focus on the things that make you happy.
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Dean Winchester
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“Oooh yes Dean, yes, that’s it.” Your voice sounds hoarse and breathy. Makes sense cause you’ve been moaning like that, praising like that all night. “You like that baby?” Dean asks from beneath you, completely entranced by the bounce of your breasts and the sway of your hips as you ride him. “You like fuckin’ yourself on my dick baby?” “Yes, Dean, yes! You feel so fucking good. Make me feel so good.” You chant, and when your head rolls back in ecstasy, Dean follows. His fingers grip at your skin, forcing you against him as he ruts into you, spilling himself inside.
That was last night’s dream. The most recent in a string of dreams that left him hot and bothered every morning. The worst part was facing you. Trying to look you in the eye, discuss a case, or make a game plan without thinking about you naked and moaning on his dick.
He’d been avoiding you as much as possible, but sometimes just your name was enough to make him pop a boner, much like the one he had now. He positioned his beer bottle over his offending member and forced himself to stare out the window, averting his gaze from the sight of you, bent over the nearest pool table.
“Hey, what’s up with you?” The sound of your voice made him jump. Man, how out of it was he?
“What?” He looked up at you, hands on hips, staring down at him. The sight made his lips dry. “Oh nothin’, I think I’ve had too many. Maybe I should call it a night.”
“You’ve had like two drinks. That barely even touches the sides.” You state, and you’re not wrong. You know him too well. He can’t help clenching his jaw as you sit down across from him. When he sees how your new angle offers him a perfect shot of your cleavage, he thinks he might start grinding away his teeth. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant.”
“What do you mean then?” He leans in closer. Not to be closer, but he hopes leaning forward might help hide the bulge in his jeans.
“You’ve been acting funny, and avoiding me all wee-“
“N-“
“Don’t interrupt. Yes, you have.” You punctuate your statement by placing your drink on the table. You don’t slam, but it's hard and firm enough to communicate your point. “Don’t you try to deny it Dean Winchester! I know you too well. You’ve been avoiding me, and when you can’t get away you’re all squirrely and quiet. Now tell me what’s going on.”
He drains his beer as he thinks it over. Partly to try and return some moisture to his mouth but primarily to buy himself some time while he thinks things over. If he’s honest, he might get something out of it. A one-night stand, a fuck buddy, maybe more? Or he might lose you, which he couldn’t stand.
“I…”
“Come on Dean, whatever it is, we’ll get through it. We always do.”
Fuck it. You’re right. He gestures to the bartender for another round, takes a deep breath, and spills. And a funny thing happens: he starts to feel more relaxed as he lets it out. If you’re not into it, that’s fine. So long as it doesn’t scare you off.
When he’s done, he watches you as you process his confession. Man, he loves the way your face moves when you’re thinking.
“So…” You purse your lips and take a quick sip of your drink as you prepare your response. “What’s the problem? Do you not want to sleep with me?”
“No, I do. Obviously, you’re…” hot, incredible, the only woman I want. Unable to voice any of the thoughts in his head at that moment, he gestures to you, head to toe and back again. “I just don’t want it to cause problems between us. Our friendship”
 “Then we won’t let it.” You state matter-of-factly. “Now, are you gonna take me back to the bunker so we can fuck each other dumb or not?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.”
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Sam Winchester
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His fingers are knuckle deep inside of you as you lay back, spread out across his bed. “Fuckkk… Sam!” You look up at him, eyes hazy, hair a mess, and he can feel his dick throb in response. “Sam, I’m so full.” “Poor baby.” He coos in response. “So full already, and I’ve barely even touched you.” He watches the way your expression melts at his words with pride, when he sees your lips start to form your reply, he places a direct smack to your clit. The whine you release is music to his ears. The way you wither and moan as he begins to play with your clit, fuck, you’re so hot. “Are you ready for more?” He asks. He’s pleased when you begin vigorously nodding. “Yes, Sam! Yes! Yes, please!”
Years of impersonating officials and hustling at almost every bar he stopped at had earned Sam a more than convincing poker face. But you always saw right through it.
For that reason, Sam had been bending over backwards to avoid you. He wasn’t totally sure what he was hiding, the fact that he’d dreamed about you, or the fact that he’d furiously masturbated to the memory of it upon waking up. Either way, he wasn’t ready to face you.
He’d hung back in the morning, grabbing his breakfast later than usual. Gone to the local library all day to research, citing a change of scenery when Dean questioned him, and had gone grocery shopping as an excuse to stay out later.
After unpacking the shopping, he’d hopped in the shower, making up for skipping his usual morning routine.
What he hadn’t accounted for was finding you, dressed in nothing but your panties and one of his t-shirts, in the centre of his bed. The very bed he’d vividly fantasised about pleasing you in.
It wasn’t an unusual sight. You were his best friend after all. You often hung out in each other’s rooms, and you frequently borrowed his shirts. He just really could have done without all this today.
“Hey Sam.” You greeted him with a smile, looking up from your laptop. “I missed you today.”
“Hey.” He responds awkwardly. Both hands clutching at his towel. He clears his throat before continuing. “Yeah, I was busy I guess. You too.”
“No worries.” You assure him before returning your gaze to your screen. “I could use your help with something if that’s alright?”
“Sure.” He approaches the bed. Certain close proximity will escalate his predicament he resolves to remain standing. However, looking down at you, with your head so close to his crotch, is equally stirring something within him. Reluctantly, he sits beside you. He glances at your computer briefly but quickly becomes preoccupied with adjusting and readjusting his towel, determined to cover the growing erection beneath.
“So, I’ve been looking into the apple of Sodom for Claire but…” he swears he meant to listen, but he’d never noticed how good you smell before, or how your skin glows even under the dingy light of his room. “Sam? Sam are you even listening?”
“Yeah, of course.” He finally tunes back in. “Apple of Sodom, Claire… hand of God?”
He looks into your eyes to judge his improv, but you’re staring, wide-eyed, right at the thing he’s been trying to hide.
“Is that- are you…” You look at his face, and he can feel the heat spreading across his cheeks. “For- because of me?”
“I’m sorry!” He stands, pausing to compose his words before continuing his apology. “I just, I had this dream last night about you, and it’s all I’ve been able to think about all day. I know I shouldn’t. I know it’s wrong.”
“Why is it wrong?”
“Because you’re my friend. My best friend.”
“Right.” You always saw right through him, but fortunately, that was a two-way skill, and right now, he could hear, he could feel the disappointment you were radiating.
“Unless…” he cocks a brow at you, and your body immediately perks up. You look up at him, eyes hazy, identical to his dream. “Do you want this too?”
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Castiel
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You’re a vision on your knees before him, eyes watering, cheeks puffed out, hair tangled between his fingers. He stares intently, relishing in all the subtle movements of your faces as he lazily pumps his penis between your lips.  His grip grows tighter every time he feels the back of your throat against his tip. Your muffled pants and moans are music to his ears. The way your lips glisten beneath the sheen of your own saliva is erotic, and he worries the sight of you alone will be enough to make him finish before he’s really begun.
It’s that vision he’s thinking of now as he watches you on your hands and knees, scrubbing a chalk pentagram off the floor.
He’s brought out of his chain of thoughts by the sound of your voice. “Is there something on my face?”
“No.” He squints at your face; he is confident it looks fine, more than fine, beautiful in fact, but he examines it in more depth, nonetheless. “There is nothing on your face. In fact, your face is quite adequate.”
“Quite adequate, I’ll take that as high praise.” You laugh. He’s not certain what’s so funny, but the sound is exquisite, and only further fuels the unfamiliar fiery feeling he’s experiencing. “But seriously, why are you staring at me?”
Your line of questioning makes sense to him now. He briefly considers lying to you, but on the spot he cannot think of anything convincing. “I slept last night.”
“I didn’t know Angels did that.” It’s not a question, but he has learned many human cues during his time on Earth. You’re digging for more information.
“We can, but we do not need to, so typically we don’t. I thought I might trial it to see if it would help in replenishing my grace.” He answers.
“Did it help?” Your inquisitiveness is ceaseless. It is something he has always liked about you.
“No.” He replies, he enjoys the brief frown of disappointment you give in response. “I did however, dream of you.”
“Ahh, and what did me and my quite adequate face do in your dream?” You’re smiling again as you scrub at a particularly stubborn stain. He notices the unintentionally alluring way you chew at your bottom lip and is immediately reminded of the way you had looked in his dream, as you waited in anticipation for him to expose his genitals.
He allows himself to wonder how you will react to his next statement; he hopes you’ll be as excited and pliable as you had been in his fantasy.  “You were nude, on your knees, performing fellatio on my, well, my vessels penis.”
“Oh!” You respond in a tone that he believes to be humorous and a little surprised. Until you look down at your knees, considering your precarious position. “Oooooh.”
You don’t say anything else, nor do you look back up at him. He begins to worry that he may have said something inappropriate, or that you thought he had disliked the experience.
“It was an enjoyable dream, if that is your concern.” He attempts to offer comfort.
“Well, I suppose that’s good news.” You nod to yourself; your tone gives nothing away. “I wonder if my real-life skills are as enjoyable as your fantasies.”
“I wouldn’t know, we have never…” His line of speech, his thoughts are interrupted by the enticing sight of you crawling towards him. “Oh.”
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sofreddie · 2 months
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Not Our First Fan
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Summary: Y/N is a friend, but also a fan. Dosing her with a truth serum should reveal if she's a threat, like other fans in the past. But what's revealed surprised them even more.
Characters: Dean x F!Reader, Sam, Castiel, Rowena
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Drugging, First POV/Alternating POV, Smut (Protected Sex, Oral Sex), Mentions of Breeding Kink
WC: 12, 393 (Yikes!)
A/N: Ok, so, over the course of a few months, when I had to take my roommate's kid to speech therapy, I sat in the car in the parking lot and just wrote. A little each time until it grew into this massive and awesome fic, and I am so happy to share it! Feedback is appreciated. : )
My Masterlist
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Y/N POV
I sat in stunned silence across the table from Sam and Dean, my eyes flitting between them as I processed what Sam had just said. There was a truth serum in my drink. He had questions and didn’t trust my potential responses.
I hadn’t been with them long, an accident that landed me - a mere fan - in their lives. Although we had become amicable, I never thought they’d use such methods.
“So, what do you want to know?”
I was surprised at my calm tone as I polished off my drink and pushed the glass away. It was already in me; there was no need to be thirsty or sober.
“The truth.”
“Obviously.” I rolled my eyes at Sam before glancing at Dean, who sat silently and watched.
“We have to know; to protect ourselves. Not our first fan.”
I rolled my eyes again. I knew that, too, but it didn’t stop me from feeling offended.
“Is there a question, or…?”
Sam snorted at my attitude. There was no escaping this, so I hoped I could play it like it didn’t scare me or that I had nothing to hide.
“Fine.” He sat up straighter and shook his arms before leaning forward, casually resting his arms on the table as he leveled a heavy gaze at me. “How do you honestly think and feel about me?”
He smirked slightly at my surprised look. I didn’t want to answer, but I could feel the words bubbling up on their own, trying to hold them back, making me sick to my stomach.
“You’re really freakin’ hot. Nice to look at. I would love a night or two to bang you like a screen door in a hurricane. But there’s a lot I don’t like, and I don’t see anything beyond friends because of your issues.”
My eyes widened with every word that fell, and I was mortified when I finished. I couldn’t read Sam, but he seemed equally surprised, smug, and offended. At least it shut him up for a minute. Dean, however, was unchanged and unreadable.
“Well, I guess it’s safe to say it’s working,” Sam huffed humorlessly.  
I wished a hole would open and swallow me up, take me away from this forming shitstorm.
“So,” he leaned forward again, and I already knew what he would ask next. I shook my head, silently begging him not to. “How do you honestly think and feel about Dean?”
God, I fought. My fingers gripped the table, and I shook my head as pained sounds passed through my pressed-shut lips. The word vomit was collecting in the back of my throat to choke me.
"Y/N?" Sam pressed, probably wondering - same as myself - how I was holding back. Dean's shell cracked enough that I could see concern.
“I love and admire him,” I spat, the words painfully and forcefully pulled from me, my heart and mind feeling shredded with each uttered word. “I’m in love with him. I want to show him he is worthy of love and be the one to give it to him. And kids. And the Hunter Pie life. To give him all he ever wanted because he deserves it and more.”
Tears streamed down my face, and I panted to breathe as twin looks of utter shock passed over the brothers.
“Please,” I begged, jumping from my seat. “Please, no more. Don’t do this.”
As they hesitated, I took the opening and ran like hell from the Library to my room. I could hear them shouting as I retreated in horror.
“Don’t. Let her go, Sam.”
“Dean!”
I slammed and locked the bedroom door behind me, then slowly fell into bed, hard sobs wracking my body, and my heart shattered until I passed out.
-
I was determined to forget about it when I woke up. Or, I would do my best to ignore them and continue my usual domestic duties. 
I went to the bathroom and the kitchen to start coffee and breakfast. I liked helping out, and Dean especially seemed appreciative, which only encouraged me. Would that change now? Maybe they’d make me leave because what I said was too awkward.
As I finished cooking, I heard the Bunker door close, meaning Sam must have returned from his morning run and would be heading to the showers. Another door closing alerted me that Dean would be entering the kitchen at any moment seeking coffee.
I sipped from my mug on the island as he shuffled into the room like a half-asleep zombie and poured himself a cup. It took a few gulps before he could open his eyes enough to see me.
“Mornin’,” he spoke gruffly, and I fought back the swoon as usual.
“Mornin’,” I responded. “Uh, there’s breakfast. Help yourself.”
I forced a smile, then grabbed my mug, taking hurried steps desperate to carry me out of the room and away from the man I loved—who now knew I loved him. But that beautiful man was also intelligent and quick and wouldn’t let me get away so quickly.
“Y/N?” He sat down his coffee and stepped closer. “About last night. I’m sorry; that shouldn’t have happened. We… were paranoid and worried it might be like Becky or something all over again, and we just wanted to be sure.”
As he explained, I looked to the ground but nodded to his words. In a way, I got it, but it still didn’t make it okay.
“You never…” he paused and licked his lips. “You never said anything. Never even gave a hint. I mean,” he chuckled, “I really didn’t see that coming.”
“I was never going to say anything,” I admitted, and he looked confused and something else. “I was never going to act on it. It was my secret and my burden. But now it’s all weird, and you probably want me to leave.”
Oh Lord, I couldn’t cry in front of him again!
“Why would I want you to leave?”
His question left me speechless, and I wasn’t sure how best to answer.
“You know,” he moved as he spoke, approaching closer and closer until my back hit the counter, and there was an arm’s length between us. “Women have told me they love me and can picture a life or future with me. But never in this life, never in a hunting life. And none of them, not one, has ever wanted to have my children.”
Okay. Where was he going with this? I was too nervous and scared to move or make a sound. I dared to meet his eyes and instantly regretted it as I felt my heart flutter madly.
“And I have no idea what a Hunter Pie life is,” he chuckled before moving just a few inches before me. “But I’ve been thinking about it all night.”
His words, eyes, and closeness were daring me to do something. But that couldn’t be right. In all my fantasies, I never believed that he would ever entertain the idea. But now… Dean groaned as his phone rang in his pocket, and I released a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“Jody, hey," Dean answered, stepping a few feet away to focus on the call. “Yeah, Okay. Sam and I can be there in a couple of hours. All right, see you soon.”
He hung up and sighed, returning to me as Sam entered the room. We all glanced at each other before Dean cleared his throat.
“Jody and the girls,” Dean tucked his phone back in his pocket. “Got a case, and they need our help. Ready in ten?”
Sam huffed but nodded, giving the food a yearning glance before rushing to pack. Dean lingered, running a hand down his face and flashing a tight smile before heading off to get ready. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or sad, but I was certainly confused.
I rushed through the kitchen, packing up breakfast and some other food for them to take with them. I always tried to give them premade meals in thermal coolers that they could refrigerate or microwave. They seemed to appreciate having home-cooked food while away.
As the brothers loaded their bags, I carried the cooler and a paper bag of immediate consumables to the car. I placed the cooler on the back floorboard before handing Dean the paper bag.
“Thanks,” he grinned, passing the bag to Sam, who immediately started digging through it. I expected him just to climb in and leave, but he paused while fidgeting with his keys.
“Please don’t leave while we’re gone.”
I wasn’t expecting that, but the idea was one of many emotionally driven bad decisions I had been considering.
“We’ll talk,” he promised with a nod. “I’ll text and call, and we’ll talk.”
I nodded and gave the same tight-lipped smile he’d given before. Then, I let out a sigh of relief as they drove away.
-
Dean POV
God, this hunt came at the shittiest possible time. I didn’t want to go. Leaving felt like closing the door on this thing I just discovered. But I didn’t have a choice.
Jody and Claire stumbled on a vamp nest that was the biggest they’d ever seen. It was a giant damn hive. Though she’d called Donna and a few others, it was an ‘all hands on deck’ situation. It didn’t mean I wanted to leave. Something was brewing, changing between Y/N and me. I was terrified it would disappear if I couldn’t tend to it. But if she genuinely meant what she said, then I supposed this could be a test of that. Or maybe even a way to feel it out over text. Face-to-face always made shit complicated and awkward. I was less likely to fuck anything up this way, but still fully capable.
“So,” Sam broke the silence, and my grip tightened on the wheel. “We gonna talk about what happened last night?”
“Sam, I told you to leave it.”
“No, Dean!”
His persistence pissed me off. I didn’t want to get into it with him, but he was on a mission.
“Look, we agreed to give her the serum and question her. We wanted to see what she knew and if she was a threat, like Becky. I thought asking those questions first might be awkward but clear the air. I wasn’t expecting…that.”
“She’s not a threat, Sam.”
“Well, we don’t know that because we didn’t get to ask her anything.”
“What’s really got you so worked up, huh? You mad she’s just not that into you?”
My brother’s annoyed bitchface was satisfying enough to make me smirk. At least he shut up for half a second.
“Don’t you get it?” Sam growled through clenched teeth. “She could be YOUR Becky, Dean. Who knows what she might do if she thinks she loves you.”
My hands wrung the wheel a little harder as I resisted the urge to hit him. I’m unsure why I felt so protective of her then, but I knew she wasn’t like Becky. She wasn’t like any of them, but I couldn’t prove it to him.
“Sam, let me handle this. Please.”
His stunned silence made me glance over to see him gaping like a fish and over-analyzing.
“Yeah. Okay.” He huffed, turning his gaze to the window. I rolled my eyes so hard my head went with it.
“Don’t say ‘Yeah. Okay.’ like…Yeah. Okay.”
“Yeah,” He shrugged, pretending to lose interest in the conversation. “Okay.”
I pressed the pedal harder. Maybe this hunt came at the perfect time. I really needed something to kill.
-
It was a bloodbath: so many vamps and beheadings, so many injured hunters, so many dead or turned victims. Though we cleared the nest with no casualties to our team, it didn’t feel like much of a victory. No one was saved.
There was still celebration and rivalry to be had as we patched each other up and cheered over the mass amount of bloodsucking bastards we killed and future victims we spared.
It was just what I needed to get the itching energy and simmering anger at my brother out of my system. Now buzzed and beat, I only wanted one thing at that moment. As everyone, including my overgrown baby brother, went to bed, I grabbed my beer and quietly wandered outside. I found myself sitting on Baby’s hood and appreciating the quiet and still night. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Y/N. It was late, and she might be asleep, but I needed to hear her voice. 
I’d kept my word, and we’d been texting, but it was mostly to keep her apprised of the hunt. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it or her since those seemingly fateful words tumbled from her lips. As her sleepy voice answered, I felt a flutter in my heart, making me feel like a kid again.
“Dean?” she yawned. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. Hunt’s done. Was a ton of them bastards.” I tried to laugh but knew she’d see through it
“Is everyone alright?”
“Little banged up, but we’re all good. No vics to save, though.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“It was a mess,” I sighed, and a comfortable silence fell between us. I needed a distraction. “You never did tell me about this Hunter Pie life of yours.” I chuckled for real this time, maybe some of it nerves, as I hoped she’d talk to me and open up without a serum. When she giggled, I felt the flutters again.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“Just…tell me how it looks. In your mind, how does it go?”
“Wow,” she huffed and chuckled again before clearing her throat. “Um, okay.”
The silence drew out again, and I wondered if she was backing out, but then she continued.
“Okay. Well, I guess I always thought it would be like it is now, you know? Like me cooking and domestic and stuff at the Bunker.”
She ‘always’ thought? I pinned a note in that for later, but I hoped she had more. I hummed to let her know I was listening. She just didn’t know I was hanging on to her every word.
“Family meals where you and Sam tell the kids and me about the hunt. Giving them a normal life and home base while keeping them informed and trained. Hide and seek in the Bunker with Nerf guns and call it a hunt.”
She was laughing, and I could hear her smile as she spoke, mine growing with her tales.
“There are so many scenarios where you could play games with the kids that’s still training. Or just spending time doing normal things.”
It sounded amazing, though I wasn’t entirely convinced it was possible. But hearing and picturing it made me feel infinitely better, among other things.
“And what about us?” I knew I was crossing a line into new territory. Begging her to tell me all this, I knew, was giving her hope—and much-needed hope for me.
“Us?” She echoed, and I grinned at her surprised tone. “I just want to take care of you. To show you that you are worthy and deserve it all and more. To be lucky enough to be in your arms. To give you whatever you need and want. To hold you, listen, patch you up, and watch movies in bed while eating junk food.”
We laughed together, and I had to wipe away a tear. I could see it so clearly. I wished I was there to wrap her in my arms like she described. The WANT that simmered within me was something I’d never felt before.
When she yawned, I felt like an ass, having woken her just to make myself feel better. But it did exactly what I’d hoped.
“I’m sorry; I’m gonna let you get back to bed. It’s late.”
“You sure?” 
She seemed disappointed, and I was, too. But we both needed sleep and the sooner I got that, the quicker I’d return to her.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Sooner I sleep, the sooner I can get home.”
I hadn’t meant to say that, but her soft chuckle made it worthwhile.
“I’ll be waiting.”
We said our goodnights and hung up. She’d be waiting for me, for us to begin. I just needed a couple of hours of sleep, and then I’d push Baby to her limits to get back home as quickly as possible.
-
Y/N POV
What the fuck was that? What just happened? I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes but couldn’t fight the tiredness pulling me back under.
When I woke up again, I felt good and refreshed. Then I remembered the call from the night before. I dove for my phone on the nightstand to find a text from Dean.
Dean: Heading out soon. See you in a few hours. ;)
It had already been nearly two hours since he’d sent the text. I jumped out of bed in a panic, knowing there wasn’t much time before they’d return. Did he even sleep?
I rushed to shower and dress before going to the kitchen and making coffee. I wasn’t sure how much time I had, but I knew Sam and Dean would be hungry.
I tried to focus on cooking, but I kept replaying our conversation from the night before. And what was with the winky face? Did last night mean something, or did he need comfort after a lousy hunt? The things I said—how could I look him in the eye?
When the roar of the Impala entering the garage sounded through the Bunker, I fought the urge to run and hide. Just…act NORMAL.
“Damn, it smells good in here.”
I turned to see Sam and Dean entering the kitchen with big smiles. However, they both looked like they’d had their asses handed to them on that hunt. 
“We’re fine,” Dean answered, my concern written on my face. This was gonna be harder than I thought.
“I figured y’all would probably be hungry.”
“He’s always hungry,” Sam teased as he made a plate. I was glad he seemed to ease the tension I was choking on.
“Just glad that’s all over,” Dean responded, joining Sam at the table.
“Well, I’m glad you’re okay,” I told them before slinking to my room to hide like a coward.
Just as I thought, I couldn’t look either of them in the eye. What if they talked about it, about me? Of course, they did. Were things just going to be unbearably awkward now? How long could I pretend and hide?
Turns out, not long at all.
“Hey, Y/N?”
Dean knocked on the partially open door before opening it and stepping inside the room.
“Hey, Dean. Need something?”
Yeah, just keep it cool—really chill.
“Yeah,” he grinned and rubbed the back of his neck. Wait, was he nervous? “I was wondering if you wanted to watch a movie in my room or something.”
This really was happening.
“Netflix and chill?” I teased and laughed, watching his tension ease. “That’s your play?”
“Well, you’re the one who mentioned it in our planned future,” he teased back, and my confidence faltered for a minute.
“I thought you might want to get some sleep. It didn’t seem you got much between our call and that text.”
“Then we’ll watch and nap,” he shrugged, taking my hand and guiding me to his room. And, of course, I went willingly, following him in a trance and soaking up the warmth of his touch.
Once in his room, he released my hand to set up something on the TV. I sat on the end of the bed, hands in my lap as I awkwardly tried to figure out what to do and how to act. He kicked off his shoes and flannel, leaving him in jeans and a t-shirt before dramatically flopping onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard.
“Come here?” he asked as he patted the space beside him.
“‘Kay,” I grinned and eagerly slid beside him, smiling harder as his arm settled around my shoulders, tucking me into his side.
I had dreamed and fantasized about this moment - as simple and innocent as it may be - so many times, and now it was a reality. I was more than surprised that his reaction to my truth was desire. But if he genuinely gave me a chance, I was determined to give him everything I said and more. Whatever he wanted, I was prepared to give.
-
Dean POV
It had been years since I’d done something as simple as cuddling and watching a movie. It felt intimate and special. As she quoted a line from the film, eating some junk food I’d laid out, I wondered if it was a djinn dream or a spell.
I wasn’t a blind fool, much as Sam tried to insist I was. I knew she was a fan, and we didn’t know much about her, which was why I agreed to the serum to begin with.
But I’d observed her plenty in her time with us. She was kind and helpful and an artist in the kitchen. She was a natural caregiver. She was funny and charming. She was super bright, too, with how she spoke, things she knew, and how easily she took to research - which she also happened to be great at. It didn’t hurt she was hot as fuck, but she had no clue.
Then, learning she was in love with me sent my mind reeling. I wasn’t a total idiot - letting this, her, pass me by would be the dumbest thing ever. I had to try, take a chance, or regret it forever.
She noticed when I glanced at her, turning her head to meet my eyes. Letting the moment sweep me away, I leaned in, pleasantly surprised when she slowly met me in the middle. My eyes fluttered, and I hummed at the sweet little spark that tingled my lips. I tilted my head, kissing her a little harder, more sure. She responded in kind, and that spark shot down my spine.
Cupping her jaw, I titled her head as I ran my tongue along the seam of her lips, begging her to open to me. I needed to taste her as much as I needed my next breath.
When she parted her lips, a gentle moan spilled forth. When my tongue slipped past her lips and tasted her soft, warm tongue, a responding moan was ripped from my chest. She tasted divine. Her tongue chased after my own, but I could feel her restraint. She was holding back; I knew it was because she was unsure, not in her feelings or wanting me. Instead, she didn’t know what I was after, too afraid to push forward and break the spell.
I pulled back, intent on breaching the topic, but a knock at my door broke the trance. Stupid Sam and his lousy timing. Another firm series of knocks had me rolling my eyes and groaning. Reluctantly, I released Y/N and opened the door; Sam was surprised to see her on the bed behind me.
“Hey, do you have a minute?” he asked, casting her a wary glance. I stepped into the hallway and shut the door behind me, following him a few feet down the hall.
“What, Sam?”
-
Sam POV
I wanted to talk to Dean about Y/N and this whole situation. I wasn’t expecting to find her in Dean’s bed with flushed cheeks. This whole thing was quickly spinning out of control.
“Het, got a minute?”
I didn’t want to have this conversation with Y/N around. Luckily, Dean closed the door and followed me down the hall.
“What, Sam?”
“What are you doing?”
“Sam, I told you-”
“No, Dean. We don’t know what her game is. She could have done a spell or made a deal. And you’re in there feeding her little fantasy.”
My older brother was incredibly defensive. He stood tall and stubborn with his arms crossed, but I could see in his eyes that he wanted to hit me.
“Look,” Maybe changing tactics would get him to see reason. I didn’t want to see him taken advantage of for the sake of some crazy fanatics’ whims. “All I’m saying is let’s look into her and this more. Talk to Cas, maybe Crowley or Rowena. Just…make sure it’s, you know, legit.”
As Dean slightly relaxed, I saw I was finally getting through to him. Y/N was nice to have around, but my paranoia wouldn’t rest until I was confident she wouldn’t cause us harm.
“Fine,” Dean agreed in a huff, his arms dropping to his sides. “Call Cas or whatever, do your research. Meanwhile, I’m going back to her and enjoying what I KNOW is real.”
Neither of us expected to see Y/N standing in the open doorway. I wasn’t sure how much she’d heard, but she looked hurt and determined.
“I’m gonna go to my room. Let you all figure this out.”
“Y/N-”
“It’s okay, Dean. Sam’s right; you can’t be sure, and I want you to be sure.”
She left the hall and went to her room. I was relieved and also incredibly guilty. That could be part of her plan. But as Dean turned back to face me, I again worried he’d throw a punch.
“You get what you wanted,” Dean spat through gritted teeth.
“Dean, I’m just looking out for you. You did the same thing with Becky, and it was for the best.”
He nodded but silently returned to his room, slamming the door loud enough to make me jump. I’d call Cas and Rowena to get to the bottom of this.
-
I stood in the Bunker’s library two days later with Y/N, Dean, Castiel, and Rowena. Except, all eyes were pointed at me with varying expressions.
While Dean was against it, Y/N allowed Cas and Rowena to poke, prod, and pry at her and her mind, searching for anything unusual. But there was nothing. According to Cas and Rowena - who both looked at me with pained sympathy - her love for Dean was pure and true, the real deal and soul-deep.
Dean looked at me with smugness and contempt. I knew he was feeling so damn righteous. But Y/N - she looked defeated and heartbroken. I knew I was an ass, but I couldn’t help feeling something was still off. If she knew all the horrible details of our lives and the many things we’d done - why the hell would she love either of us? Especially my love-em-and-leave-em brother?
“Are we done?” Y/N spoke, standing tall, but I could see the tears in her eyes and the waver in her voice. “Can I go?”
-
Y/N POV
After two whole days of being ripped open and exposed, working to prove myself in ways I never intended, I was more than done. I wanted to be thrilled at meeting the angel and the witch, but the circumstances left me feeling violated in many ways.
“Are we done? Can I go?”
I didn’t wait for a response, turning and heading for my room before the tears fell. I couldn’t bear it anymore. I didn’t even leave the library before a hand grabbed my arm.
“Y/N, wait,” Dean pleaded. I turned to him, and a single tear escaped to stream down my face.
“I just want to go. To forget any of this ever happened.”
“You could do that?” Dean asked, and my heart clenched at the hurt on his face. “Forget it?”
“No, but I have to,” I pulled slowly from his touch, already missing it.
“We can do this; we can make it work,” he insisted, and I shook my head and laughed, though it was without humor.
“THIS wouldn’t have happened if you two hadn’t snuck a truth serum in my drink. Sam questioned me, ripping my secrets from me, doubting me entirely. And you…you did nothing. Sam is the most important person in your life. If he’s not on board, it will never work.”
He didn’t say anything, but my words struck a chord. He didn’t try to stop me when I retreated a second time. While I was grateful, it also hurt. At least nothing more than a kiss happened. It might be easier to recover.
-
Dean POV
Hurt and anger were all I could feel. I understood Y/N’s position somewhat, though it hurt that she’d turn away. I turned to face my brother, all my anger directed at him.
“Are you happy now?” I shouted at him, and he dared to appear surprised. “This is your fault.”
“Dean, I’m just-”
“Looking out for me? Yeah, I know. But why does it feel like you’re jealous?”
“Whoa, I’m not-”
“You’re both daft fools,” Rowena spoke as she busied herself with tidying the items on the table.
“Excuse me?” Sam and I spoke at the same time.
“You two have put that poor lass through hell trying to find the truth. A truth that’s pure love. And while you act like you want it, you’ve done nothing. You let Sam question and doubt her. And she’s right; it’ll never work if Sam doesn’t support it because you two are so grossly intertwined. And you, Samuel,” she turned her fiery attention to Sam, and I felt a little scared for him. “You’re so busy thinking her love is undeserved that you must find a reason it can’t be real.”
“Undeserved?” I looked at my brother; his silent shame told me all I needed. “That’s it, right?”
“Dean, come on. How could someone know everything we’ve done and still love us—love you? I mean, love and relationships aren’t your thing. Don’t you think maybe someone or something is behind this?”
“Sam,” Castiel chimed in to chastise my brother.
I couldn’t look at him any longer, or I would kick his ass. I took off to my room. I wanted to go after Y/N, to beg for forgiveness, but I knew I couldn’t go to her as angry as I was, and she needed space, too. As I realized I may have genuinely lost this before I even got to glimpse it, I felt my lips tingle with the phantom press of her lips to mine. I’d just have to wait to let her come to me. I hoped she still wanted to and that Sam would get his head out of his ass.
-
Sam POV
Several weeks had passed since this whole truth serum mess with Y/N, and I was left feeling like a complete dick.
After Cas and Rowena checked her over, we all went our separate ways. Things in the Bunker seemed to go back to how they were, except no one talked to each other outside of pleasantries or necessity.
My brother would glare at me or make a snide remark to ensure I knew he was pissed. He felt I ruined everything, and maybe he was right. Y/N still cooked and cleaned and helped with research. But she didn’t make eye contact or small talk or linger. She didn’t eat with us or stay in the room for long. It made Dean more bitter every day.
I knew I had let my paranoia and fear get the better of me, and maybe I was a little bit jealous. Out of the two of us, I was the one who was only worth a good time? But as I reflected on her time with us and her interactions with Dean, I realized how much they had in common and enjoyed each other's company—even without romance mixed in.
I had to figure out how to make this right for both of them. I just had to convince Y/N I was sorry and wrong and that she and Dean should try to be together. Then Dean would forgive me, and all would be right again.
-
Dean POV
Sam had tried talking to me and apologized. I was grateful but still pissed. He swore he’d try to make things right, but I asked him not to. She hadn’t made eye contact or spoken any friendly words since Sam - no, since WE - had Cas and Rowena check her.
Sam was right; I didn’t deserve her. And I was heartbroken at her distance, her change in demeanor. I knew she was deeply hurt. As pissed as I was at Sam, I was even more so at myself. I did nothing to stand up for or defend her against the tests. I was just as guilty.
She would never have said anything. I never would have known had we not drugged her. I wanted to be mad about that, too, and was to a degree. Was this all some test, or were Sam and I destined to destroy everyone who crosses our path and dares to care about us?
The point may be to fight. But if I really wanted it, why wasn’t I trying harder?
I overheard the two of them in the kitchen the other night. However, it was mostly Sam, as she still didn’t seem to be in a chatty mood. I knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, and maybe I should have let them know I was there, but curiosity got the better of me.
Just like with me, he was apologizing to her. But he was also practically BEGGING her to give me another chance. He swore he was on board and supported it - hell, he was full-on dreaming for it to happen now. She thanked him for his apology and said no more.
I didn’t know what to do. But I knew Sam was okay with us, and I wanted to find out what ‘us’ even looked like.
-
Y/N POV
Sam had been giving me whiplash. One day, he was utterly suspicious of me, then he ignored me, and now he’s practically begging me to give Dean a chance—as if I’d been the one rejecting him. I didn’t know what to do.
While I was glad they’d both apologized, I was still hurt. I tried my best to see things from their side: how this might all seem a rational way to go about things or why they were so paranoid. But my pain and embarrassment kept me quiet, just trying to make it day by day while focusing on business as usual. Maybe we’d all move on and put this whole thing behind us.
Until then, I had to do my best to maintain a sense of routine in the Bunker for their sakes. And I wasn’t going to hide away in my room moping either.
This is how I found myself in the library, reading a book as Sam sat on the opposite side with his laptop. I didn’t know if he was researching or looking for a case, but I did know I was pretty irritated that, with many other tables and chairs, he chose to sit across from me.
I tried to focus on the book but scanned the words more than I read them. I was aware of Sam constantly looking at me as if he had something to say before hastily looking back at his screen. I pretended not to notice until I stiffened at the sound of Dean’s approach.
I wanted to run and hide every time he entered the room, afraid he’d catch my longing looks or hear how fast my heart beat when he passed close enough to touch and smell. I could still feel his kiss and the warmth of his hand on my cheek as he held me sweetly. I tried to control it, but now that he knew, I felt so exposed, as if he could sense my every thought. It was a bit unnerving.
I tried to focus on my book as Dean concentrated on his brother, who leaned back in his chair to give him his attention.
“Garth needs backup on a hunt,” Dean announced, and I relaxed, knowing they’d likely leave soon.
“Okay,” Sam stood from his chair, gathering his laptop. “Meet at the car in ten?”
Sam began walking away before Dean’s voice made him stop.
“Uh, actually,” Dean rubbed the back of his neck and smirked at his brother. “You and Garth should be able to handle it. Baby needs some maintenance anyway.”
Sam - to his credit and that annoying silent communication of theirs - paused only a moment before seeming to decide.
“Yeah, okay,” he responded quickly and eagerly, making me look at him directly.
He flashed me a smile before continuing his retreat from the room. The quiet, along with being alone with Dean, was sending my anxiety through the roof. He turned to face me, and - Lord, help me - I couldn’t even pretend to care about the book as our eyes met for the first time in what felt like ages.
“So,” he grinned as he slid into the seat Sam had just vacated, refusing to break the locked gaze. “Are you hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something.”
Okay, so he was waving a white flag. I could get behind that, and I was definitely hungry.
-
Dean POV
“You hungry? We could order pizza or go to a place in town or something?”
She relaxed, but I could see she was still apprehensive. I hated this awkward silence and distance, which hung like a dark cloud over everything. She had confessed her love, both with the serum and without. She spoke about our potential lives, which left me craving. But I hadn’t done much to show my want, to fight for it like she had done.
When Garth called about a case, I saw an opportunity. I would put on my A-game and fight for this, for us.
“Uh, okay. Yeah, sure,” she forced a smile, but I met it with a genuine one.
“Great,” I answered, standing from my seat and gesturing for her to follow. I was only slightly surprised that she did.
“What are you in the mood for?”
“Whatever you want is fine.”
Whatever I want? I grinned and fought back the chuckle as she followed me to Baby in the garage.
“I thought Baby needed work?”
I did laugh then as we settled in the front seat of my car.
“Yeah, I sort of wanted an excuse to be alone with you.”
“Oh.”
She blushed and bashfully looked away. I bit my lip and started the car, driving us into town. If she didn’t care where we went, I knew a place on the edge of town with great burgers, cheap beer, good music, and pool tables. I’d be in my element and could pull my best moves. I was intent on wooing her, and this was usually how I succeeded with others. 
She was not anything like the others at all. She was so much more, from her looks to her body to her mind and heart. As we parked outside the roadhouse, I wondered if this place was the best idea.
Her soft smile was encouraging. As we went inside, my hand hovered over her lower back, guiding her through the crowd to an empty table in the middle of the room. It allowed me to watch everything, and I felt even more on guard than usual with her there.
I watched tentatively as she sat across from me, her eyes scanning the surroundings before landing back on me with a shy smile.
“I hope this is okay. We can go somewhere else if you’re uncomfortable.”
“No, this is great!”
She seemed genuinely happy to be there, and I relaxed. The waitress came and took our orders, and I was pleased to hear Y/N talk more than she had been recently. I guess now was a good time to speak with her about what’s been on my mind.
“Look, Y/N…I want you to know that I am so damn sorry.”
She met my eyes then, and I swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry for everything that happened, that I let happen. We shouldn’t have pried. I’m so sorry you got hurt and exposed and that I didn’t stand up for you.”
She dropped her gaze to the table, tensing up again, and it felt like that beautiful door of opportunity was closing. I needed her to interact with me. Anything was better than the distance and empty pleasantries. At this point, I didn’t care if she flirted or screamed at me.
The waitress returned our order, and I thanked her. Y/N was focused on her food.
“I’m not sorry that I know. In fact, I’m a little pissed you were never gonna tell me.”
I took a bite from my burger and was waiting for her reaction. She stared at me with narrowed eyes before clearing her throat.
“What, I’m just supposed to come out and say it? Even though there was barely a friendship between us?”
She scoffed and returned to eating. But I was frozen, caught up in her choice of words.
“What do you mean ‘was’?”
Had she given up? Has she decided we weren’t worth it? That I wasn’t worth it?
-
Y/N POV
“What do you mean ‘was’?”
The pain in his tone made my heart clench. I didn’t mean to imply we weren’t anymore, but it didn’t feel like we were.
“I didn’t mean it like that.”
He accepted it, and we ate in comfortable silence. When the waitress returned to clear the table, Dean settled the bill but asked to start a tab for drinks. When a whiskey shot was set before me, I clanked with Dean’s and knocked it back, taking it for the peace offering it was.
“Thank you for apologizing. I can understand why you two felt you needed to do those things. I just wish you would’ve asked.”
“So if Sam asked how you felt about me, without the serum, what would you have said?”
“I would have said I respect and admire you.”
“But not that you love me? Why?”
I had a feeling he’d ask that at some point. I huffed a breath and chewed my lip as I chose my words.
“Because I’m not worthy. If I never say anything, I never have to face your rejection, which would hurt, and it’d hurt you to see me hurt ‘cause you just care that much.”
I guess I didn’t need a serum. The big secret was out, and I told Dean all about our fantasy lives. At least if I kept truthing, I’d know if he truly accepted me.
“But I didn’t reject you, Y/N.”
I met Dean’s eyes, seeing how open he was, letting me see his truth. The intensity I found there made me gasp a little.
“I did hurt you, and seeing that hurt me,” he continued. Reaching across the table, he held one of my hands. “But I didn’t reject you. In fact,” his grip tightened, and a flirty smirk adorned his luscious lips. “I can’t stop thinking about you. About our future. About that damn kiss.” He laughed, and I nodded my agreement because I felt the same.
“Hey folks, can I get you another round?”
The waitress returned, and I jumped. Dean held my hand, which was firm but gentle, and smiled at her.
“Yes, please. Two shots, two beers. Thanks,” he said, placing a nice tip on her tray, and she left with a smile. It always warmed me how he could be so charming, even without a trace of flirting. His keeping ahold of my hand sent my heart into a frenzy. Maybe I wasn’t reading enough into all of this, which had me chuckling aloud just as our next round arrived.
“What should we drink to?” Dean asked as we held our shots.
I put on my best flirty smirk and clinked my glass with his.
“To second chances?” I suggested, hoping he’d pick up and accept my insinuations.
“I’ll drink to that!”
We threw back our shots and spent moments looking at each other and smiling.
-
Dean POV
It felt almost like making a deal, but one I’d gladly make again and again. I’d never experienced this feeling. It was as if I was embarking on an exciting adventure, eager to learn everything about this person and savor and enjoy every morsel of her being that she was willing to feed me.
I did my best to shut out the dark voice in my mind, telling me it couldn’t last. Either I’ll fuck it up, or she’ll leave, or - God forbid - she dies. That tiny black hole within me was itching to devour all the happiness around me.
But in her presence, it grew quieter and easier to manage. Even before her confessions, I witnessed how kind and caring she was, her compassion providing comfort. She was nurturing, even in the way I imagined a loving mother would be. I don’t remember. But she was like soft candlelight shining amidst the pitch black within my mind.
“How about a game of pool?” I suggested, seeing some open tables. I could show off a little and maybe get a chance to get close to help her line up a shot.
“Okay,” she agreed, taking my hand when I offered it.
I was reluctant to let her go, but I had to set up a game. Basic eight-ball was fine with me and didn’t take much thought.
“I know how to play, but I’m not very good,” she admitted. I bit my lip to contain my excitement about helping her.
“No worries. It's just a fun game. No pressure. But I could show you some things if you want.”
“Eager to bend me over the table, huh?” She laughed, and I was initially shocked. But if she was ready to ‘play,’ then game on, Babygirl.
As we started the game, she was focused, analyzing angles and trying her best. I, however, was focused on her. The way she moved, thought, and bent like a dancer to take her shots, Her whole body was lithe and curvy, stretching like a cat. I noticed, too, that she was ambidextrous. With some practice and pointers, she’d be outstanding. She had a natural skill but wasn’t used to playing.
I went back to admiring her as her plump ass was on display as she bent for a shot and missed. The pout that followed made me want to kiss it away. She was effortlessly sexy, and she had no fucking clue.
“You ready to head back?” I asked after finishing a game. I was ready to be alone with her again, if only to kiss her senseless.
“Sure,” she grinned, placing her hand in mine before I could reach for her.
I grinned like a fool as I paid our tab and led her outside. But we were stopped by a storm, with rain falling thick and fast.
“Race you to the car?” she grinned before dashing into the downpour to the Impala at the back corner of the lot. She was crazy but beautiful.
Grinning again, I ran into the rain to take her hand as we ran to the car together, laughing the whole way.
-
Y/N POV
I dashed out into the rain, feeling giddy and playful. I was high on the night I was having. I had been entirely aware of Dean’s eyes on me - and quite a few other’s eyes - but I tried not to think about it and just be normal.
With my spirits high and being a bit drunk, I felt brave.
“Race you to the car?”
I took off, half expecting him to chastise me. But when he took my hand and ran with me, laughing the whole way, my heart soared. I felt free, alive, and blessed to share it with Dean, the man I loved.
Dean released my hand to get his keys and open the door as we got to the car. I was mesmerized by watching his hand and fingers work, wet from the rain.
“Get in,” he gestured, and I quickly moved, sliding across the bench to the passenger’s side.
“We’re gonna have to wait ‘til it calms down a little. I can’t see much in this.”
I didn’t think about that when running through the downpour. Dean turned on the car only to turn on the heat, and the radio was low on some classic rock station. I couldn’t help but look at him and admire how handsome he was and how that was accentuated by being drenched. It was giving me wicked thoughts, and with my inhibitions lowered, I knew I wasn’t hiding it well.
I shamelessly ogled him as he shed his jacket and overshirt, leaving him in a t-shirt. He tossed the wet clothes in the backseat before looking at me to find me attentively watching his every move. His eyes trailed slowly down my body and back up again. My breathing picked up as my heart raced. He licked his lower lip into his mouth and released it. I think I moaned a little.
“Y/N.”
Dean broke the silence, the rain still pounding hard outside. We leaned towards each other, and his hand cupped my cheek as our lips met. It was just as good as before, though I wondered if I’d imagined it.
His tongue ran gently across my lip, and I felt a flutter between my legs. I opened for him and melted as his tongue met mine. I let him lead, knowing he was used to this, but I hadn’t been with anyone in a while and hadn’t made a habit of hooking up or even taking chances. I was worried I might be out of practice, but I felt encouraged by his sounds and actions.
He pulled back, ending the kiss far too soon for my liking, and I may have whined a little. He chuckled, and I pouted. He leaned in with a groan, sucking my lower lip before kissing me soundly.
I felt like I was in trouble, but in a very sexy way. It was a little confusing. But I was quickly sobering as I realized where this was heading. At least, I hoped.
-
Dean POV
Goddamn, this woman would surely kill me - but what a way to go. I was ready to make her mine here and now, and I was almost sure she’d let me. But she deserved better than that. As sappy as it may be, I wanted our first time together in a bed - specifically MY bed - so I could take my time and make it memorable. Special.
If things go the way I hope, it will be our last first time. I had more than a good feeling about this, and I was ready to do whatever was necessary to have her in my life.
How did I get so damn lucky, so fortunate to have this woman in love with me?
The rain was still coming down, but it had lessened enough that I was confident in getting us home safely. And I NEEDED her home, even if it was only to make out all night.
“Let me get you home,” I whispered, stealing another kiss.
“Well, you’ll have to stop kissing me to do that.”
I kissed her again, and she chuckled as I began to drive. I wanted her closer, tucked into my side, but I knew I needed to focus on the road. The sooner I got her home, the sooner I could touch and kiss her again.
I somehow managed to pull safely into the Bunker’s garage despite Y/N’s gaze devouring me the whole ride. As my cock swelled painfully against my zipper, I prayed to God we were on the same page. I’d be fine if she wasn’t ready. But I was about to burst at just the thought of her.
As soon as I parked the car, I turned to her. She grinned and leaned in to kiss me again. I grabbed at her, holding her close to me as I poured myself into the kiss, letting her taste my desire. 
She straddled my lap with little encouragement, and I wrapped my arms around her to press our bodies together, our hungry kisses unbroken. I grabbed a handful of her hair and gently tugged her head back as my kisses moved along her jaw. When I reached behind her ear, I gave a little kitten lick. Her body jerked and ground against my lap, making me hiss as the zipper pressed against my painfully hard cock.
-
Y/N POV
I could feel how hard he was, his hands as hungry as his mouth. I felt bold knowing there was no rejection waiting, only want. I pulled from the kiss and held his face in my hands.
“Dean, take me to bed?”
I was practically sober now, and so was he. I looked him in the eye, letting him know I meant it.
“Are you sure?” He asked, which surprised me. “I don’t want to rush you or make you feel like I expect anything. If you’re not ready, that’s okay. I can wait. You’re worth waiting for.”
I felt like I would cry, but the patience and understanding he exhibited made me even more sure. I kissed him slow and deep, pulling back to meet his eyes again.
“Take me to bed, Dean.” I realized how that might sound, even if my tone was soft. “Please.”
That seemed to spur him to action. As he devoured my mouth again, I filed it as a note for later. He set me back on the seat and climbed out of the car, offering his hand, which I accepted.
He smoothly pulled me from the car, closed the door, and pressed me against it in what felt like one move. The desire and hunger I saw in his eyes were almost intimidating. He kissed me senseless, his hands on my hips as he pressed his weight into me. He was so strong and capable that it only turned me on more.
“Your room or mine?” I asked, feeling confident enough to be sultry.
“Oh, Baby,” he grinned, unable to go long without kissing me. “I want you in my bed so bad.”
I chuckled and nodded, letting him lead me through the halls to his room.  Once the door shut, he pressed me against it like in the garage. I could hardly believe this was happening, but I was so damn eager for it. His hands pushed my shirt up, and I let him remove it. He made quick work of my bra, and the cool air had my nipples hardening. He dove in with a hum, taking a nipple in his mouth and flicking with his tongue. My knees buckled, and I was grateful for his firm grip on my hips.
He moved to my other nipple and repeated his actions, ripping a loud moan from me as my hips bucked in his hold.
“You’re so sensitive and responsive,” he praised as he removed his t-shirt.
-
Dean POV
She was so beautiful, and her sounds were the sweetest music. She was so desperate and needy, her body reaching into my every touch, even if she wasn’t fully aware.
I felt frenzied, eager to take, feel, and claim. I had to force myself to calm down. I wanted to savor this, to drag it out, and make it as good as possible for both of us.
I reluctantly pulled back, just enough to kick off my shoes and remove the rest of my clothes. She looked at me with pure lust, panting as she mimicked my actions. My hands rushed as she became revealed to me.
As soon as we were both bare, she was pressed against me, seeking another kiss, which I was too happy to provide. Our hands were gentle and cautious as we explored every line, curve, and dip of each other, our lips and tongues dancing together. While I was no doubt aroused - my cock throbbing and pinned between us - her warmth and softness calmed me in a way I hadn’t felt in years.
I started walking backward, bringing her with me. I sat on the edge of the bed, intent on pulling her into my lap, wanting her close, but she seemed to have other ideas.
She slowly lowered to her knees, cupping my cheek with one hand, the other wrapping around my cock as she kissed me passionately, more dirty than any other before. She stroked me firm but slow, and when she ran her thumb over the head, I moaned into her mouth.
She pulled back with a grin and gently pushed me back with a hand on my chest until I was propped on my elbows, unwilling to take my eyes off her. She seemed just as intent as me to slow down, drag it out, as she kissed and locked along my lower stomach and hips, nipping lightly here and there, making me jump and groan.
“Not the only one sensitive and responsive,” she teased back at me, nosing along the crease of my thigh, turning her head to nip at the tender inner flesh of my thigh.
“Y/N!”
It was half shock, half desperate arousal. She was driving me insane. She gave in, licking from the base of my cock to the head, tonguing around the rim. My head dropped back, and that was the moment she took me in her warm, wet mouth with a tight suction that already had me embarrassingly close to coming.
She pulled off to tease me some more, and I seized the opportunity, sitting up and swiftly pulling her to straddle my lap. Before she could catch her breath, I turned and lifted her, smoothly laying her back on the bed, her legs wrapped around me, holding me close.
She gasped and laughed, making me chuckle along with her. God, this was a beautiful moment.
“I’ve never been manhandled like that. Surprised me,” she admitted shyly.
I laughed again and kissed her soundly.
“A night of firsts then,” I teased, kissing her deep and rutting my aching cock through her surprisingly damp folds. I was happy to know she was just as aroused as me.
As we drowned in kissing, I trailed my hand down her body and between her legs. I ran a finger over her clit before circling her entrance and sliding inside.
“So damn wet already,” I spoke against her lips, eager to swallow down her moans. “Bet I could just slide right in.”
Fuck, I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t thinking, only feeling as I adjusted my hips, grabbing my cock and sliding inside her. She was so tight and warm, and I could feel how deep I was. I had to stay still and catch my breath, or it’d all be over too soon. She was trembling around me, and I just wanted to make her come over and over.
-
Y/N POV
Dean was inside me, buried deep and nestled against my cervix. It was delicious, and I was hyper-aware of our every connection: our underbelly brushing, his hips against my inner thighs, chest-to-chest, and panted breaths shared from barely grazing mouths.
He pulled back slowly and slid in again, smooth and gentle. I felt like my heart would explode or I might burst into tears. He increased his speed only a little, kissing along my neck and chest. I marveled at feeling him, so long and thick and impossibly hard, fucking into me gently but with purpose.
Then, my rational mind began to speak up, reminding me he was bare inside me. I clenched and moaned, fighting back my breeding kink.
“Dean, wait,” I pushed gently at his shoulders, and he went still.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I promised, pecking his lips to reassure him. “But we need a condom. I’m not on birth control.”
He seemed to pause and think before nodding and slowly pulling out. As he moved from the bed to retrieve a condom, I wondered if I’d upset him. He sheathed himself and crawled back on the bed, and I opened my legs to welcome him. But he didn’t go for it right away.
His hand slid along my thigh, up my side, and cupped my cheek, his eyes searching mine.
“What had you clenching and moaning so hard?”
I could feel the heat in my cheeks. I also knew he was intelligent and experienced and had probably figured it out.
“My…my breeding kink.”
I mumbled the words in embarrassment but felt compelled to be honest. His pupils dilated, and he captured my lips hungrily as he slid within me again, with no hesitation and no resistance. He was so thick I could still feel every bit of him through the condom, his girth stretching me deliciously, making me wriggle my hips impatiently.
-
Dean POV
Fuck, hearing her say the words ‘breeding kink’ might have been the sexiest thing I ever heard. That’s something I’d be chewing on for a while.
I slid back inside her, and she let a sigh. I felt relief at being connected again, too. I could still feel her walls squeezing around me, but I wished I could feel her bare again. The primal side of me awakened, wanting to make her mine and breed her full.
Instead, I focused on her face and her reactions as I moved. I kept our bodies close, nearly all of us touching, which was way more intimate than I was used to. It only added to the many moments that made this an extraordinary connection. I had to remind myself it was only the start, the first time of what I hoped to be countless others.
As I picked up my pace, I could tell she was getting close. My thumb found her clit, and I rubbed tight circles in time with my thrusts. Her breathing sped up, and I could tell she was holding back.
“Wanna feel you come,” I told her, leaning in to kiss her ear and whispering as I kept moving within her. “Imagine me bare inside you, ready to fuck you full.”
I felt her clench hard before she moaned out her release, her hands digging into my ass as she held me deep. I did my best to grind against her and ride out her high. She was fucking gorgeous, and I was nowhere near done with her.
In another practiced move, I rolled to my back, taking her with me, my cock never leaving her tight and drenched pussy. Still coming down from her high, she kissed me sloppy before sitting up straight. My cock slid deeper, and we moaned together as I held her hips and encouraged her to ride me.
-
Y/N POV
My head was light, my body tingling from the incredible orgasm. I usually stopped at one, but the feel of Dean was too good to give up. He wanted more from me, and I wanted to give it.
I sat up straight, my hands on his abs for leverage. He was so deep it was almost too much. When I began to move my hips, I was intent on giving as good as I got. But it was so incredible it quickly became about me: what I wanted to feel and how. Luckily, he was enjoying it just fine.
I was about to lean down and kiss him, but he sat up, wrapping his arms around me. I held his gaze as I rode him, slowly and intentionally clenching my walls to massage his shaft.
He snarled and kissed me hard, his thumb rubbing my clit again. I was surprised how quickly my second orgasm was creeping up on me, but I was hungry for it, and so was he.
“Dean!”
I couldn’t help but shout for him - at him - I wasn’t sure. A second later, I was coming, riding him hard through my high as he focused his attention on my breasts.
God, I was drained and sweaty, barely able to catch my breath, my body spasaming and pussy throbbing. I didn’t even notice he’d sat forward, laying me back on the bed, still hard and inside me as he lavished my breasts and nipples with teeth and tongue.
I knew he hadn’t come yet and was starting to get concerned. Maybe I couldn’t keep up with him? Maybe it wasn’t as good for him? I thought it was the best I’d ever had, but he was more experienced. But I couldn’t get my brain to form words.
I ran my hands through his hair and over his back, and he hummed at the touch. I wiggled my hips, reminding us both that he hadn’t come yet and was hard as a rock.
“Dean?” I urged him from my chest and met his eyes. “Wanna feel you come.”
I wiggled my hips again as much as I could in this position: my ass on his lap and back lightly bowed.
“M’close,” he spoke against my lips. “How do you want it?”
God, that was so sexy. But I was determined to make this good for him, too.
“Whatever you want. Anything!”
-
Dean POV
She felt so goddamn good. I wasn’t sure how I’d been able to hold back coming all this time. I wanted to make her feel good, but I also wanted to impress and show her that I could care for her. More importantly, I wanted to show her that I wanted her.
As she floated down from her high, I took the time to worship her, licking the sweat from her skin and riling her up for more.
“Dean?”
Her soft voice calling my name so sweetly had me pausing to look at her.
“Wanna feel you come.”
My cock twitched, more than ready, but I fought to hold back, desperate to please.
“M’close,” I admitted, pecking her lips. “How do you want it?”
She moaned, her legs widening, making me sink a little deeper.
“Whatever you want. Anything!”
“So fucking perfect.”
I couldn’t help but praise her and was pleased when she swooned. I grinned and kissed her again, the feel of it already becoming second nature. I ran my hands up her arms and pulled her hands above her head, urging her to grab onto the edge of the mattress.
We smiled warmly at each other as I sat back on my heels, draping her legs over my arms as I gripped her hips. Her back was arched, legs wide.
I pulled back and swiftly thrust back inside, starting a brutal pace that rocked her body and had her screaming. She gripped the bed tight as I let go, fucking her like I wanted to. I was sure it was equal parts pain and pleasure, but she took every inch of me again and again.
She was chanting my name over and over, her pussy spasming wildly around my cock. I was going to come any second, but I needed to feel her one more time. To have her pull me over the edge with her.
I held her tight, sure there’d be bruises I’d kiss later, giving her all I had. She screamed even louder before her pussy fluttered and gushed all over me.
I lost it, falling forward and groaning as I came hard, the condom swelling with my seed. I huffed hard, my head falling into the crook of her neck. I couldn’t have imagined our first time together being any better than what we shared.
I tried to make myself move, worried I was crushing her. But she wrapped her arms around me and shook her head.
“No. Don’t move. Please.”
I laughed and dropped my head back to her neck. I was good with that.
-
Y/N POV
Fuck, I couldn’t move. Dean tried, but my oversensitive body couldn’t handle it, so I begged him to stay still. He seemed content to remain there for the time being.
“That was hands down the best sex I’ve ever had.” I chuckled at my honesty and still quite cum-drunk.
“Mmm,” he hummed, kissing my neck and pulling out. “You squirted.”
“I did?!” I had to lift my head and look, a big, wet mess all over us, the sheets beneath me wet. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I could do that.”
“Fuck, don’t apologize.” He tossed the condom and grabbed a towel to clean us up. I sighed and lay there, letting him. “It was so fucking hot, Baby.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he agreed, tossing the towel and moving us under the blankets. I went willingly, completely spent.
“Sleep?” I asked, desperately needing to recover.
“Sleep,” he agreed, pecking my lips before moving to spoon me, his arms wrapped around me securely.
-
When I woke later, I smelled coffee and gentle kisses on my shoulder. I opened my eyes and propped on my elbows, having shifted to my stomach at some point.
Dean was right there beside me, his smile warm. My heart melted all over again.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased with a chuckle. He shifted to sit back against the headboard, sipping at a mug.
“Hey.”
I forced myself to sit up, adjusting the blankets to cover myself as I leaned next to him, noticing he was shirtless, but the bedding covered his lap.
He handed me the mug, and I smiled bashfully as I drank the warm and delicious coffee inside. I returned it, and he set it on the nightstand, turning his attention back on me.
He grinned, leaning in and cupping my cheek as he kissed me sweetly. His hand trailed down my neck to my chest before thumbing at my nipple. The kiss turned heated in an instant as he made his intentions known.
He pulled back the covers, and I let him, though I whined that he pulled his lips away, too. He was just as naked as me and half-hard. But as his shoulders settled between my thighs, my mind went blank, simply eager for what he was about to do.
-
Dean POV
When I woke, I had to wipe drool from my chin after the incredible dream I had of feasting on Y/N’s sweet cunt. I sat up and wiped the sleep from my face before noticing Y/N was asleep beside me.
She was on her stomach, her hair a wild mess, her mouth hung open as she breathed heavy and deep. Remembering what happened earlier, a grin spread on my face as I realized it wasn’t all part of my dreams. I leaned down and gently kissed her shoulder, but she didn’t move.
I decided to rush to the bathroom and grab some coffee, trying to hurry because I wanted to be there when she woke up. Ideally, I could wake her sweetly, and then maybe she’d let me eat her out because that part was a dream, and I was aiming to rectify that for both of us.
I climbed back in bed, not having bothered with clothes since we were alone in the Bunker, at least for now. I set the cup aside and kissed her shoulder and back again. Featherlight and worshipful, I brought her to wakefulness.
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” I greeted as her eyes opened.
I sat back, sipping coffee. She sat up next to me with a soft greeting and accepted the mug when offered. She had moved the blankets to keep herself covered, but I could see over her neck and chest where I’d marked her good. I hadn’t meant to; I didn’t even realize I was doing it. But seeing them in different shades and sizes only turned me on.
She returned the cup to me, and I mindlessly put it on the nightstand. I kissed her, eager to show how happy I was, to reinforce that it was real and reciprocated.
Pulling the covers back to expose us, I thumbed at her nipples, finding them already hard. I ignored the throbbing of my cock, and I lowered myself between her thighs. She was already a little wet, and I was desperate to have her slick coat my tongue. I wasted no time as I dove in, making out with her pussy, tasting every bit of her, mapping and testing her creases and folds.
Her hands ran through my hair, and her thighs clamped around my head. Her moans and pleas had me impossibly hard. I rutted against the bed as I slid two fingers inside her, sucking her clit hard between my lips. Her voice hitched, and her body tensed, so I doubled my efforts. She shattered, and I removed my fingers to delve my tongue deep inside, gulping down her release and savoring her tangy flavor.
I came onto the sheets with a muffled grunt as I wrung every ounce of her orgasm from her. When she relaxed with a sigh, I kissed up her body, elated and aroused as she kissed me deep and sucked at my tongue.
I pulled back to look at her - at this incredible woman who loved me and was willing to give herself to me. She ran her hand from my brow to my jaw, her eyes following the touch, a soft smile on her lips as she met my eyes. It felt incredibly intimate, and I laid my head on her chest, my body pressing into her. I was hiding from the onslaught of emotions she was creating inside me.
Her arms wrapped around my shoulders, and one hand moved to run her nails over my scalp softly. I sighed and relaxed, taking the much-needed comfort she offered.
This was the part I always missed out on. It's always awkward mornings or quick goodbyes. With Y/N, I could stay, linger, and accept the peace and comfort I was always denied. I may have dozed off lying on her, but she never moved, her hands and nails soothing and relaxing me. 
God, I hoped it would always be like this. To be safe and loved in someone’s arms.
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FOREVERS:
@lyarr24
@hobby27
@kazsrm67
@maliburenee
@440mxs-wife
@writercole
@spnbaby-67
@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone
@leigh70
@laycblack
DEAN WINCHESTER:
@slamminmine
@deandreamernp
@awkward-and-indecisive
@akshi8278
@mimaria420
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months
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Imagine...Dean and You Getting Hurt On A Hunt
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Pairing: Dean x reader
You could hear Dean asking a paramedic a million questions, not a single one concerned about himself. You opened your eyes to find yourself in the back of an ambulance, Dean lying on a stretcher beside you. He could tell you were awake and struggled to reach over to you but couldn’t. Instead he thrashed his head back against his pillow in defeat, straining against the straps that held him down.
“Sir, I need you to calm down,” said the paramedic as you blinked slowly at Dean. You knew something was wrong with you, with both of you, but you weren’t quite sure what that was yet. You struggled when you saw Dean upset. You wanted him to feel better. “You need to relax, she’s seeing you panic and that’s making her do the same.”
Dean stopped as he took in how your heart rate had skyrocketed, how scared you looked. He sighed and forced himself to stay calm. You saw him relax and heard him say it was okay. Neither of you enjoyed the feeling of being tied down, especially when the both of you were in plain view of one another and couldn’t reach each other. You tried to speak but couldn’t as you felt how raw your throat was. 
“We’ll be at Mercy West in just a few minutes,” said the paramedic to Dean as you half-listened. 
“No, take us somewhere else!” yelled Dean suddenly, fighting again. The paramedic sighed as you both started struggling once more. You didn’t have much of an idea of what was going on but if Dean didn’t want to go there, it wasn’t safe. 
“I’m going to give each of you a sedative and by the time you wake up, you’ll be in your hospital beds feeling a lot better,” he said gently. 
“No, don’t you touch her,” said Dean as you started to get very sleepy. The last thing you saw was Dean shutting his eyes as you finally remembered what had happened.
If Sam didn’t get to you soon, you were screwed.
___________
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supernaturalfreewill · 11 months
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"Hey! That's my shirt!" Dean said, watching you slip the soft cotton of his t-shirt on over your head. It swallowed up your frame and left you with slightly tousled hair.
You bit your bottom lip and grinned at him. "So?"
He sat up in bed, the sheet still swirled around his hips. You let your eyes wander over his strong chest. "So, that's why all my clothes keep disappearing. Do you have that green flannel too?"
"Maybe," you smiled innocently. "You like how they look on me anyway," you said, revolving in place so Dean could see just how his t-shirt brushed your thighs from all angles.
He sighed and clicked his tongue. "I can't argue with that... but I would like them back eventually."
You shrugged, carefree. "You can file your complaint in the suggestion box," you said cheekily.
Dean chuckled. "Oh yeah? Where's that?"
"Oh, it's that gray bin over there by my desk, next to the recycling can..."
"Alright, that's enough sass. Gimme back my shirt and get back in bed!" Dean demanded through more laughter, reaching for you. You tried to dart away, out of reach of his long arms, but he was too fast and soon tugged you back into the bed right on top of him.
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mysmuttyself · 6 months
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My care for you
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Rating: 18+
Summary: When Y/n's baking session is interrupted by the magnetic presence of Dean Winchester, their encounter in the kitchen heats up far beyond the oven's temperature.
Tags: Smut, p in v, kitchen sex, pure filth, improper use of pie, possessive Dean, dirty talk, established relationship,
Word count: 809
A/N: This is basically just me pining for Dean freacking Winchester. I baked i pie last week and i got inspired. Please be nice English is not my first language. Enjoy ;)
Everything was ready. The dough had been stored in the fridge to chill. Y/n expertly sliced the apples, the knife gliding through the fruit with practiced ease, she then drizzled them with lemon juice, before pouring the slices in a pan to simmer with sugar and cinnamon.
She was just adding the last touch, a sprinkle of nutmeg, when she felt two strong, calloused hands surround her just below the waist. His scent enveloped her, a combination of musk and amber, strong enough to weaken her knees.
"De" said Y/n in a plaintive tone. She had leaned his head against his solid, muscular chest. "Would you like me to finish this pie for you?"
Dean's lips curved into a playful smile against her neck. He continued to stroke the skin around her ribcage.
"I know baby, it's that you look so damn hot when you cook for me my favourite plate, so caring and sweet, good enough to eat."
He peppered kisses along her neck, and she melted in his arms.
As Dean continued to trail kisses down Y/n's neck, his hands moved lower, slipping under the hem of her shirt to caress the soft skin of her stomach. Y/n's breath hitched, a shiver of anticipation running through her as she leaned back into his touch.
"Dean," she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper, "what about the pie? I could burn the filling"
Dean's smirk only widened as he murmured huskily, "Screw the pie, sweetheart. Right now, all I want to do is fill you up"
She just had the time to turn off the stove before he spun her around, pressing her against the kitchen counter with a hungry urgency. His lips crashed against hers in a heated kiss, tongues tangling as desire surged between them. Y/n moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair as she surrendered completely to him.
Dean's hands roamed eagerly over her body, pulling the fabric of her skirt up.
“Look at the mess you made baby, is this all for me?” He asked moving the dampening panties to the side to reveal her wet core. Y/n arched into his touch unable to answer, aching for more as he started to tease her, rocking his till clothed shaft against her wet folds.
"Dean," she gasped, her voice thick with need, "please..."
Her plea hung in the air like a silent prayer, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for his response. Dean's darkened gaze met hers, a flicker of primal hunger flashing in his eyes as he leaned in close, his lips grazing her earlobe with a tantalizing whisper.
“Tell me what you need sweetheart” he breathed, his sultry low voice sent shivers down her spine.
“I need you, I need your cock” Y/n begged him. A primal growl rumbled from deep within Dean's chest. His desire for her burned hot and fierce, matching the intensity of her own need.
"Then you shall have me" Dean husked, in one swift motion, he freed himself from his clothing, his throbbing length springing eagerly into view. Y/n's breath caught in her throat at the sight. He was beautifully thick, if a cock could have been defined pretty, it was Dean’s.
Without a word, Dean positioned himself between her trembling thighs, his hands gripping her hips possessively as he guided himself to her slick entrance.
“Are gonna be a good girl? Take me nice and deep?” He asked her in a so very low tone.
“Yes, yes, Dean please” With a slow, torturous push, he entered her, the sensation of their bodies joining sending waves of pleasure coursing through them both
Y/n gasped as Dean filled her completely, every inch of him stretching and filling her in the most delicious way imaginable. She clung to him desperately, nails digging into his back as he began to move with a rhythm that was both primal and intoxicating.
With each thrust, Dean drove Y/n to the brink of ecstasy, his name falling from her lips in a breathless mantra of desire.
“Tell me that you are mine” His words, laden with desire and command.
"I'm yours, Dean," she gasped, her voice trembling with need. "All yours."
With each thrust, Dean claimed her as his own, their bodies moving in perfect synchrony. When Dean's calloused hand reached to stimulate her clit, it was too much for Y/n.
She exploded in a climax of lust, and Dean reached his own orgasm a couple of thrusts later, moaning her name.
They looked at each other for what seemed like endless seconds. Then he finally smiled and said, “Looks like we worked up an appetite” murmuring as he reached for the nearby apple pie filling. He sucked on his finger and then fed it to her.
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whimsyfinny · 7 months
Text
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.
Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut
Warnings: BIG SMUT - fingering, PinV, essentially just a chapter of p*rn
Chapter Word Count: 2997
—-MDNI—-
A/N: basically just a whole chapter of smut. Hope it doesn’t suck ass as it’s 2am an I’ve been trying to proof read for half an hour but fuck knows what I’ve just written. But yeah same as always pls let me know of any errors as I am the only one who proof reads this shit.
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Please read the below first:
Prologue Chapter 1
Chapter 2 Chapter 3
Chapter 4 Chapter 5
Chapter 6 Chapter 7
Chapter 8 pt. 1
Chapter 8 pt. 2
I’m Not Your F*cking Maid
Chapter 9
Chapter 9
I laid in bed staring at the ceiling, sleep failing to whisk me away. I tossed and turned for several hours; kicking the covers off in frustration before pulling them up to my chin, then kicking them off again before pulling them back up - repeating this horrid cycle until two in the morning. Thoughts kept racing through my mind and I couldn’t get the image of Dean looking at me with those dark lustful eyes out of my head. The way he watched me move around Sam, witnessing how I caressed his younger brother and made him squirm where he sat. I could only dream of what was going through his mind in that moment - of what I hoped he was thinking. Heat prickled my skin and bubbled in the pit of my stomach as I remembered my daydream from earlier; Dean fucking me into his mattress as he held my hips and sought nothing but his own pleasure. A groan left my lips as I threw my covers off and sat up, rubbing my temples in a weak attempt to dismiss my attraction to the obnoxious man wreaking havoc in my mind. I placed my feet on the cold floor and stood up, deciding a glass of cold water was the best remedy for whatever it was that I was feeling. I rubbed my eyes as I padded towards my bedroom door, tugging on the old T-shirt that barely covered my behind. I grasped the handle and opened the door, jumping in surprise at the sight of Dean leaving his room. A startled noise left my lips as I placed a hand on my chest, not expecting to see him standing there.
“Shit, Dean, you scared the crap out of me.” In response Dean mumbled a half hearted apology, taking a step closer to me.
“What are you doing up? It’s late, you should be in bed.”
“What are you, my dad?” I scoffed, not sure how to feel about the reprimanding. He held his hands up in defence, only bowing his head slightly, not saying anything else. I sighed.
“I just can’t sleep; I’ve been tossing and turning for hours but no luck. I was just on my way to get a glass of water.”
“You didn’t think to put any more clothes on?” He asked, and it looked like he was trying desperately not to look me up and down as his eyes wouldn’t leave mine.
“I’m sorry - how many people do you run into at TWO AM? I wasn’t expecting company,” I tugged more on the bottom of my T-shirt, trying harder to cover up what little dignity I had left in front of Dean Winchester. All of a sudden we were stood in total silence, neither of us knowing what to say as we now avoided eye contact and I played with the hem on my shirt. We stayed like this for a few awkward moments before I opened my mouth to say something right as Dean decided to speak.
“I can’t get you out of my head, (Y/n).”
My eyes snapped up to meet his, and there was an almost pained look about his face that was hard to place in the dim lighting. My mouth opened and closed a few times, not knowing what words to pick. Luckily for me, Dean kept talking.
“That shit you pulled earlier - the way you… danced… for Sam - made me genuinely jealous of my own brother. I mean come on, we’ve already done the deed, why didn’t you pick me?”
“Because how would you have known how good I was if you couldn’t see everything?”
He thought for a second before tilting his head and raising his eyebrows in agreement.
“You’ve got me there.”
“I know what I’m doing, Winchester.”
“You sure do sweetheart,” Dean stepped closer to me, closing the already short distance between us with those forest-green eyes not leaving mine. Our chests were almost touching as his gaze started flicking between my eyes and my lips. I watched as his own lips parted and he chewed on his bottom lip as if deep in thought, his eyes growing darker by the second. My heart started to race and the atmosphere turned thick. What was he thinking about? Why did he have to look at me the way he did - like he wanted to devour me - the intensity of his gaze increasing by the second and making me warm both inside and out. Not another thought ran through my mind when my back thumped against my bedroom door and Deans lips descended on my own - hot and hurried. His large arms circled my waist, rough palms caressing every inch of my back, waist and ass like he was searching for the best place to grip onto - to dig his fingers into my soft skin. I pulled on his hair, bringing his face and body closer to mine, wanting to feel every muscled inch of him press against me.
I released one hand from his hair and reached back, fumbling around the door looking for the handle, soon finding it and twisting. The door swung open and we stumbled in, too wrapped up in every fibre of each other to pay much attention to anything else. Dean kicked the door closed, reluctant to release me from his grasp and his lips still on mine as he hastily backed me towards my bed; my knees hitting the mattress and I tumbled down onto my back, pulling him with me. He gripped me with one strong arm and lifted me further up the bed so I was in a more comfortable position - my head now resting on the pillow and my hair fanning around me. His lips were so soft on mine, his stubble occasionally scratching my chin when his lips parted further and his tongue hesitantly skimmed mine. The action was slow, as if he was testing the waters. I couldn’t stop the moan from leaving my lips at the feeling of him in my mouth and the sheer intimacy of the action, wrapping my arms over his shoulders and surrendering my mouth to him. I subconsciously pulled him closer, my knees parting without a second thought and his hips dipped down, allowing me to feel every well-sculpted muscle in his abdomen and thighs - including the hardness growing in those loose pyjama pants. The ever so familiar sensation of my own arousal began brewing like a storm; twisting in the pit of my stomach with excitement and anticipation. Electric jolts shot through me every time he pressed into my most sensitive area, making my legs twitch involuntarily as breathy gasps escaped me. His mouth quickly left mine and trailed down my throat before he sat up, pulling himself from my grasp. His evergreen eyes, black with desire that pierced into mine with white hot lust held my gaze, and I fought to stop my eyes rolling into the back of my head from the way he looked at me. Without missing a beat he pulled his black T-shirt over his head and threw it to the floor, holding himself above me as I let myself admire him - trailing my gaze over every inch of exposed skin, lingering on his tattoo. I reached up and traced my fingers over it, feeling him shiver and groan at my gentle touch, his head dropping into the crook of my neck. With one hand he reached down, those rough fingers delicately slipping into my underwear and circling that sensitive button, making my legs twitch even more than before. He went around and around, tauntingly avoiding contact with it before a desperate whimper slipped from my lips. He smirked like the Devil himself before he finally indulged me, pressing his fingertips expertly to the tender mound, undoing me in a way that I’ve never been undone before. He leaned down as his ministrations continued, pressing soft kisses to my moaning lips. My head tilted back into my pillow as that recognisable feeling in the pit of my stomach began to twist tighter and tighter, my nails digging into Deans shoulders, leaving behind little crescent moon-shaped indents in his skin. My breathing increased and I was right on the edge of bliss when out of nowhere he stopped, the pleasure disappearing in an instant. However before I even had a chance to complain he’d slid two thick fingers inside me with ease, drawing a gasp from my chest. He pumped in and out a few times, teasingly pressing on the hidden cushion of over-sensitive flesh that was hidden deep inside, making me writhe underneath him. It wasn’t hidden to Dean though, no, he knew EXACTLY what he was looking for. Once again this pleasure was short lived as he pulled his fingers out, leaving me cold and empty on the inside. On the outside however I was red hot as I watched the older Winchester stick his fingers in his mouth, circling his tongue around them as he sucked my essence from his digits, not missing a single drop. My heart flipped when he spoke in a low, husky voice.
“Delicious - just like last time.”
Heat spread like wildfire over my cheeks as I blushed furiously, not knowing how to deal with the sexual expertise of this incredibly objectionable man. He placed his hands on my thighs, my knees almost gripping his hips in anticipation.
“Are you ready princess?” He asked, his voice smooth and frustratingly calm, except for his chest rising and falling rapidly with supposedly eager breaths.
“Yes- Dean please-”
In a single beat he pulled himself out of his pants and slid inside me with ease, stretching me as he made every inch disappear. My eyes rolled and my mouth was agape, a pornstar-grade moan unintentionally leaving my lips and making Dean quiver.
“Fuck- (Y/n) don’t squeeze me like that darlin or I won’t last long…” he breathed out, all calmness from his voice now gone.
“I-I’m not doing anything- I swear,” I almost squeak out as he lowers himself over me again, one hand dropping next to my head to support himself as the other gripped my thigh pulling it around him. It was his turn for his eyes to roll.
“Lord have mercy…” he muttered out under his breath, slowly moving his hips, thrusting in and out, in and out, over and over and over again. He was ever so gentle at first, but that soon changed when his own pleasure was there to be chased and gentle thrusting turned to mind-melting pounding. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, his mouth occasionally pressing into the curve of my neck as my lips rested near his ear, my soft moans going straight to his brain. I started to feel sweat pepper his skin, his breathing heavy as his motions became even more rapid and uneven. He was right - he wouldn’t last long. I unwound my arms and placed my palms on his chest and pushed, taking him by surprise. He stopped his pounding and I could feel him flex inside me, bringing a gasp from my lips before I could get my words out. I refocused, his attention on me unwavering.
“Get on your back.”
I didn’t have to tell him twice as he flipped over with ease, pulling out of me for a second and taking my spot on the bed. I flung my leg over him and lowered myself down on him with zero hesitation, hating the cold feeling of emptiness. Deans hands worked on their own as they grabbed the soft flesh on my thighs, his fingers digging in as he groaned in pleasure. His head went back in the pillow, his eyes shut and jaw slack as I started to move, rocking back and forth, his hands softly guiding me. My fingers pushed into his chest as I steadied myself, and he seemed unphased by my weight in his state of ecstasy. I moaned, unable to stop myself from chasing my own pleasure as I looked down at him, loving that I was the one making him lose his mind in bliss. He opened his eyes, lids still hooded as he gazed up, watching me ride him like there was no tomorrow. For a moment his hands left my thighs, reaching up and tugging on the old T-shirt I was wearing.
“Take this shit off,” he growled, helping me discard the item. I lifted it over my head and tossed it to the floor with his garment, dishevelling my hair in the process.
“Better?” I asked, now completely bare to his burning gaze.
“Fuck yes,” he breathed, hands sliding up my stomach to caress the underside of my breasts, sliding a thumb over the silky smooth skin as his palms rested on my ribs. I rocked against him harder, feeling my own wetness on my thighs and mixing with my sweat. In this position it was like his cock was in my throat - he felt so deep, so engulfed by me I felt I could never let him go. I’d never felt so full in my life, it was borderline uncomfortable but I couldn’t get enough - it was intoxicating. HE was intoxicating. The smell of leather and gunpowder on his skin, the taste of beer on his lips and the silky smooth scars that dotted his otherwise perfect body was a drug in itself. I don’t even know if I truly hated him. Especially when he was here giving me the best sex of my life. I’d fuck this mans brains out everyday if I could. If he’d let me.
It didn’t take long for my impending climax to appear on the horizon. It bubbled, almost boiling as I rocked harder, faster, more desperately than before, making the bed creak and the headboard knock against the wall. Deans grip on my ass was assisting my motions as I started to lose control over the sounds tumbling from my lips - the name.
Dean.
I could see the desperation seeping into him as his rhythm started faltering, throwing me off for a split second before we found unison again. My nails dug into his chest once more, Dean totally unphased and too overwhelmed with pleasure to even care. My own pleasure turned to Earth shattering ecstasy as the buildup dropped and the cord snapped - wave, after wave, after wave of euphoria crashed around me, making my eyes roll and toes curl; legs trembling either side of Dean as I moaned his name - temporarily forgetting all other words. Clenching around Dean, it sent shockwaves through him that brought him to his own release, his grip painful on my delicate skin as he came undone with my name on his lips. I instantly felt warmth seep down the inside of my thigh, and the thought of being completely filled to the brim by him made my heart flutter. Dean trembled beneath me, both of us slowing down as we came down from our synchronised highs. After a few quiet moments of nothing but heavy breathing, he was the first to speak up.
“Ahh fuck, (Y/n)…. What the fuck was that?” He ran a hand through his hair.
I tilted my head in confusion.
“Excuse me?”
“THAT,” he said pausing to catch his breath, looking up at me with eyes as black as coal, “was one of the most intense moments of my life,” he propped himself up onto his elbows so we were now almost eye to eye. I couldn’t help but giggle.
“I hope that’s a good thing?”
“Damn right.”
We stared at each other, clarity returning through the sexual fog, and strangely, regret was nowhere to be found. Deans tongue darted out and wet his lips, and I gnawed on my bottom lip almost nervously. He was still here. Unmoving. Why didn’t he leave?
Why didn’t I WANT him to leave?
We sat in peaceful silence as I stayed on his lap, Dean making no effort to move even though he had started to soften inside me, letting the mess leak out and drip down my thighs and over his hips. I’d have to change the bedsheets before sleeping. Deans eyes were returning to their usual mossy green, his gaze gentle on my figure for the first time since we’d met.
“I should probably get off - let you get back to your room,” I said, my eyes not leaving his, my tone lacking.
“Yeah… I should really let you sleep…” Deans voice was the same as mine. We looked at each other for a few more minutes before we both leaned forwards, Deans fingers threading ever so gently through my hair and I placed my hands on his bare chest, feeling his heartbeat thrum beneath my fingertips. His lips were as soft as silk as they pressed on mine - a great contrast to the bruising make out session earlier. He kissed me with a tenderness I didn’t know he could muster, and it made my heart flutter something crazy. His mouth moved on mine, as soft and warm as a summers breeze and I didn’t want it to end. Eventually he pulled away, a smile on his lips.
“Sweetheart you really need to sleep,” his voice held a kindness I’m sure wasn’t for me.
“I…umm…” I paused and looked away, fighting with myself about whether I should even say what’s in my mind. I decided to be bold, fighting the blush rising from deep within.
“Dean, I don’t want you to go…”
He stared at me, and for the first time ever a pink glow adorned his masculine features. He was still. Very still, and I was starting to scold myself for being weird and out of character. It didn’t take much longer for him to reply.
“Well let's get you cleaned up and head to my room - we can sort your sheets out in the morning.”
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kaleldobrev · 2 months
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Just Right
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester
Summary: Dean hates when you’re sick. Not only can he not kiss his best girl without the possibility of getting sick himself. But you also can’t make one of his favorite things to start off his day: his morning coffee.
Word Count: 1.9k
Warnings: Cursing (2x)
Author's Note: Apologies for not tagging people | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡
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As much as you hated being sick, you knew that Dean hated when you were just as much, maybe a bit more. Whenever either of you were sick – which wasn’t often thankfully – you two had your own sick routine, a routine that Dean despised doing, but understood the reasoning behind it.
When you had found yourself sick, you would sequester yourself into another bedroom of the Bunker and curl up in your favorite blankets while wearing your designated sick pajamas. Your sick pajamas as you called them consisted of some of your favorite things that always tended to bring you comfort: a pair of Dean’s gray sweatpants, one of his band t-shirts that you borrowed with the promise of returning it but never did, one of Dean’s flannels, and a pair of fuzzy socks.
Over the course of your sick time, you had found yourself doing an assortment of different things: trying to find something to watch on Netflix that you and Dean weren’t currently watching together, attempting to read one of your favorite books, or just straight sleeping. Dean would either text or call you, sometimes even knocking on the door and talking through the door to you. If he was feeling extra cheesy, he would slip you a note underneath the door. He would always ask you the same question: Do you need anything? Your answer would always be the same, “My usual sick meal.” A meal that consisted of a hot cup of tea with lemon and honey, Dean’s version of chicken noodle soup, Ritz crackers, and a ginger ale. Whenever he made this meal for you, you would always tell him to leave the tray outside the door so you wouldn’t get him sick, but without fail, each and every time, he would come into the room with tray in hand, and either kiss you on the top of the head and forehead and say, “My gorgeous sick baby,” before you rolled your eyes and threatened to throw a pillow at him.
When Dean had found himself sick, you would still be the one to leave the bedroom – despite your beloved boyfriend being the one trying to get you to stay with him, because all he really wanted to do was cuddle with you; he was extra clingy sick. But you had to play bad guy, telling him that as much as you had wanted to cuddle with him more than anything, you didn’t want to get sick.
You would tell Dean that he needed to try his best to stay sequestered in his room as to not get you or Sam sick – Jack and Cas were the ones that you didn’t have to worry about thankfully; but without fail, Dean would always leave the bedroom, walking around the Bunker coughing and sneezing. You would be close behind him, with a couple rolls of disinfected wipes the moment he left the room, your shirt covering your mouth and nose as to not inhale the germs.
You would do the same thing that Dean would do for you, calling, texting, or slipping a note underneath the door asking him if he needed anything from you. Your usual answer would be your sickness meal, his usual answer would be: “I wanna cuddle with my Sweetheart.” When you would reject that, he would ask for the second best thing: “My usual sick meal.” A meal that consisted of a not one, but two grilled cheese sandwiches, a side of tomato soup with saltines on the side, a can of ginger ale and a tiny glass of whiskey. Although you would tell Dean not to come into the room when you were sick to drop the food off, you never listened to your own advice. You always walked into the room with the tray of food and promptly kissed him on the forehead or cheek and say, “My handsome sick boy.” Followed by him smacking your ass as you walked away.
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Although Dean and you hated when either of you were sick because you couldn’t be intimate with each other, one of the biggest reasons Dean hated when you were sick in particular is because you couldn’t make him his morning coffee. Yes, Dean was more than capable of making his own coffee in the morning, or he could easily go to the café downtown to grab a cup; but ever since you moved into the Bunker, those two things just never tasted right again to him. Because once having a taste of the way you had made it, he couldn’t have it any other way.
It was one of those rare times in which you were sick, and you knew exactly how you had gotten sick too. About a few days ago, you, Sam, and Dean went on a case together in Topeka where each of you interviewed a different member of the family. Sam and Dean interviewed the parents while you interviewed their child – a child who happened to be insanely sick. While interviewing the child, she kept on sneezing and coughing and at one point had wiped her snot coated hand on your arm when trying to reach for the tissues behind you. As soon as the three of you had gotten to the Bunker, you knew that something wasn’t right, as you were starting to exhibit the same symptoms as the little girl was.
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You were sequestered in your designated sick room, wearing your designated sick pajamas, completely under the covers; a combination of being hot and cold at the same time. Your phone was propped up on a pillow that was lying next to you; Dean was on Facetime with you in your shared bedroom. “I think this is the worst I’ve ever felt.” You said, your voice sounded super nasally, and weak.
“Well, you still look and sound hot to me.” Dean told you, a grin on his lips. You couldn’t help but shake your head at his comment, disagreeing with him. “What? I don’t give a rats ass if your nose is running like a faucet and you look like Rudolf. You’re still fucking hot to me.”
“Dean, I look like I haven’t slept in days and on the verge of death and I sound like a toddler. I honestly have no idea how any of this is remotely hot to you.” You sniffled, grabbing a tissue from next to you in bed and blowing into it.
“To be fair Sweetheart, I always look like I’m on the verge of death and you still think I’m hot.” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders.
“Dean, you manage to look hot no matter what you do. It’s an oddly weird talent that you have.” You sniffled again, tossing the tissue you just used into the trash can.
He shrugged his shoulders again, almost as if he was agreeing with you. “Do you need anything from the kitchen? I’m about to go make my own coffee cause somebody can’t do it.”
You rolled your eyes and coughed. “Well, I’m sorry that your barista is sick. She can always make it for you, but I can’t promise that there won’t be hints of mucus in it.”
Dean gave you a disgusted look, shivering at the thought of your comment. “Okay, okay. Please, don’t ruin coffee for me. Coffee is one of the few joys that I have in this life.”
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Dean walked into the kitchen, and gave Sam a slight head nod in his direction who was already sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee and his laptop. “There’s still some coffee in the pot if you want any.” Sam said, turning in his chair to face Dean who had started to make his way to the fridge. “I know it’s not how Y/N usually makes it but, I know you like the way I make it too.”
“Correction, I used to like the way you made it.” Opening the fridge Dean grabbed some milk and chocolate syrup and placed them on the counter in front of him. “Do you know how Y/N makes it? Cause she won’t tell me. And I feel like if anyone would know, it would be you.”
Sam gave Dean a questioning look. “Me? Why would Y/N tell me how she makes it?”
“Cause you’re her best friend. She tells you everything.” Dean knew for a fact that you had told Sam a lot; because more often than not, Sam would casually bring up something that Dean knew for a fact that him and you had talked about, and there would be no possible way for him to know that unless you were the one that told him.
“But you’re her boyfriend Dean. I feel like boyfriend trumps best friend in most cases.” Sam took a sip from his mug before closing his laptop and walked over to the counter, bringing his mug along with him.
“You know what they say Sammy, bros before well…hoes.” Dean gave Sam a grin, shrugging slightly.
“I think you might have insulted yourself with that one.” Sam said, finishing up his coffee. “So you really have no idea how she makes it uh?”
Dean shook his head. “No freaking clue. All I know is she puts milk and chocolate syrup in it.”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret Dean.” Sam began to say.
“What?” Dean asked.
“I…She told me to never tell you how she makes the coffee, but…she did tell me.” Sam finally confessed.
“Well? Would you like to share with the rest of the class?”
Sam grinned and walked over to the cabinet. He reached all the way into the back and took out a box of Keurig cups and placed the box onto the counter. Dean eyed the box for a moment before picking it up. “Dunkin’ Donuts?” Dean asked, sounding slightly confused.”
“Her special coffee she makes you? It’s just Dunkin’ Donuts Keurig cups with a dash of milk and a spoonful of Hershey’s chocolate syrup.”
“Son of a bitch…” Dean mumbled.
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A Few Days Later…
With your sickness behind you, you were finally back to your old self; which meant that you can about your somewhat normal routine. You were excited to be able to hunt again, and you were excited to finally fall asleep to and wake up next to your beloved boyfriend. But despite the normalcy that you were excited to get back to, you knew that there was one thing that Dean was excited about – you being able to make his morning coffee again.
Quickly throwing the Dunkin’ Donuts Kuerig cup into the trash, you took Dean’s coffee cup and placed it onto the island counter in front of you; smiling as he walked in. “Morning Sicky,” Dean grinned, and you simply rolled your eyes.
Walking up to the counter, he looked at the mug and gestured toward it. “Is that?” And you nodded. He rubbed his hands together like an excited little kid before he took the mug from the counter, slowly blowing the contents to cool it down a bit. Taking a sip, he felt like he was in Heaven – not actual Heaven of course cause there were no dick angels around, but pretty close.
“Good?” You asked, and Dean nodded. As much as he wanted to tell you that he knew the secret to your coffee, he was never going to; because this was one secret that you deserved to have for yourself, even if Sam and Dean both knew.
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inspired by another tiktok I saw. imagine it as your guys’ kid or maybe his kid or something but the toddler is REALLY into cars (just like his father)
dean to his toddler walking in a parking lot: whats that one?
toddler: toyOTA
dean: *smiling* okay, this one?
toddler: *getting excited* hONDA
dean: *containing laughter* yes! And that one?
toddler: inFINITYYY
y/n holding a camera: *also containing laughter*
dean: and this one?!
toddler: ITS…ITS…
toddler.exe stops working
dramatic pause
toddler screech: cHEVYYYYYYYY
dean: YEEEES
y/n now bursting into laughter as Dean runs after his toddler
PROUD DAD MOMENT !!!!!
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