#jacklesversebingo23
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— A GUIDEBOOK FOR SINNERS TURNED SAINTS
SUMMARY : dean uses the sexiest seduction methods to get laid when he keeps getting cockblocked by his gaming girlfriend
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS/TAGS : smut, fluff, angst?, dean being cute, gamer girlfriend problems, unprotected sex (dean wears condoms in the show, you should too), oral sex (f. receiving), filth, dean being really horny, reader being really horny, cowboy dean = cowboy kink, squirting, slow and possibly over-descriptive?, two people being insane for each other? >:)
WORD COUNT : 8.8k
A/N : title from a jamie’s elsewhere album. this fills the square for “first one to make a noise loses” on my @jacklesversebingo card.
Today was a lazy day. In fact, the whole week was eventless in terms of monsters going out to eat people. Sam took the time to meet with Eileen, staying with her in a much nicer hotel than they were used to sleeping in. Dean and Y/n choose to stay in and enjoy having the Bunker all to themselves.
For Dean, it meant eating junk food, sleeping in and sleeping late, binge watching shows and having movie marathons, checking up on the cars in the garage, cleaning everything but messing up Sam’s room. For Y/n that meant catching up on the latest season of her favourite video game, playing with and talking to random people to complete group missions and challenges, reading books she’s been meaning to finish, hanging out with Dean and doing whatever he wanted, trying new recipes, and reading the nerdiest articles just to know things.
It was the fourth day of their ‘vacation’, Y/n decided to play while Dean cooked as soon as she cleaned up the Bunker with him. Dean went to her room with a plate of food, the place where she once slept in became an activity room where she worked on her hobbies. Now having Dean’s room to sleep in, his drawers were filled with her socks, underwear, and bras. She wore his shirts as dresses instead of completely taking over his room, having to walk a short distance to get to her room where her clothes, trinkets, souvenirs, and more of her items remained.
“Hey, darlin’,” Dean smiled cutely at her.
“Hey, baby,” Y/n smiled up at him, turning her attention away from her game despite her screen turning red from the damage she was taking. “Oh, yummy,” she murmured, ogling him entering her room in just a pair of black boxers. He snorted at her. “Oh, yummy,” she repeated, this time eyeing the plate of waffles, whipped cream, and fruit--some of it cut into hearts. “Dean,” she giggled, accepting a slow kiss from him when he leaned down with puckered lips.
“What?” he murmured against her lips, smiling as he pulled away. “You died.” She turned away from him and shrugged when she saw the ‘revive’ button on her screen.
“Thanks.” She smiled ignoring her game to admire him, kissing his cheek appreciatively.
“For gettin’ you killed?” She laughed, raising a brow at him.
“Getting shy about the heart-shaped fruits?” She asked, turning away from her computer by spinning her chair slightly to face him completely, and crossing her arms over her chest, staring at him dead in the eyes with a smirk.
“Pff,” he sputtered, staring at the plate in his hands to avoid the cutely decorated plate in front of her and her teasing gaze, but an unmistakable blush brought colour to his ears and neck. She squinted her eyes at him when he turned back to her, her grin widening because she already knew he was bashful for having done something so cheesy. “Shuddup,” he said meekly, smiling with embarrassment.
“Uh-huh.”
He turned away from her, avoiding her. She let him walk away, waiting for him to place his plate on her night stand before getting up to hug him from behind. “Hey,” she laughed, squeezing his waist with her arms.
“Leave me alone,” he laughed, wiggling in her arms until she let him go.
She squeezed his ass playfully, and he stiffened, grabbing her hand--still laughing--and turned to face her. She was faster than him, tugging her arm towards herself so he’d stumble towards her, like a dance, she moved in a circle so his back faced the bed. “Hey!” He protested playfully, the breath getting knocked out of him from surprise when he fell into her bouncy bed.
“Why’d you take off your clothes?” She asked, climbing up on top of him before he could even think about sitting up. His stomach clenched delightfully at the sight of her on top of him, holding his wrists above his head with her small hands. He bit his lip when her bare thighs brushed against the skin of his waist, his cock stirring in the soft cotton of his boxer briefs.
“I… Uh, it was hot in the kitchen,” he lied, his voice deeper than before, coated in desire. She tilted her head, a knowing smirk stretching across her lips.
“Because the kitchen started to heat up from your cooking? Or because you’ve got the nastiest, sluttiest imagination?” She murmured, leaning forward, brushing her lips against his.
“Uh,” he paused, closing his eyes, waiting for a kiss that never came. He opened his eyes to look at what she was doing, flushing with embarrassment when she giggled at him. She released his wrists, resting her hands flat on his chest so she wouldn’t fall on top of him from her laughing fit. He grumbled friskily, large hands grasping her soft thighs to flip her over onto her back. She squealed, clinging to him as best as she could while laughing hard.
“Whoa,” she chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes.
He was busy nibbling her ear, one of his hands pressing against the small of her back as she arched into him, their hips slotting together perfectly for her to feel how hard he was with only the flimsy material of their underwear. He held himself above her with one of his arms resting beside her head, tangling her hair in his fingers. She squirmed at the sensation of his hot breath against her neck and his teeth gently tickling her earlobe, both sensations distracting her from everything around her, including her game that had now kicked her off the map for inactivity.
“Dean,” she whispered quietly, loosening her grip on the sheets to tease the waistband of his boxer briefs.
He began to kiss her jaw instead, brushing his lips teasingly, slowly down her throat until she moved her head to the side to give him more access to her neck, to let him lick gently at the sensitive flesh behind her ear. He breathed her in, the softness of her perfume and the sweetness of her shampoo making him dizzy and weak.
She rolled her hips up against his, encouraging him, her pussy tingling with lust, aching to be touched by him. An exhale shakily slipped past her parted lips. She could easily feel how hard he was through the thin layer of clothes between them, warmth spreading across her skin, her heart thumping loudly, the blood rushing through her body increasing the pleasure he was making her feel.
She continued to move her hips against his, legs parted needily, her grip on his hips keeping her movements hard and steady. He grunted her name against her skin, the feeling of her rubbing herself against him making him needier. He moved his hand from her back to her hip, squeezing roughly. He could feel her sneaky hands slowly lowering his underwear, but he continued to lick at her skin, teeth sinking into her soft flesh, mouth suctioning hard until marks adorned her smooth skin.
“You’re so soft, baby,” he murmured, moving away from her neck to venture down her body, lifting the black shirt up her body. “So warm,” he whispered, kissing the flesh above the waistband of her underwear. “I need you so bad,” he mumbled against her stomach.
“Then fuck me, Dean,” she replied breathily.
He chuckled, trailing open mouthed kisses up her torso, biting and sucking to embellish her skin with possessive marks. He lifted the shirt higher, revealed the soft flesh of her breasts and her hardened nipples. She shivered, her skin prickling from the contrast of his warm breath and the cool air in the room.
“How bad do you want it, baby?” He asked with a smug smile, but he interrupted her by sucking her nipple into his mouth when she was going to speak; instead a strangled moan replaced her words. He grabbed her other breast in his large hand, squeezing it slowly, teasing the sensitive skin of her nipple with his thumb.
“Please,” she moaned, arching her back and slipping her fingers through his soft hair. He only moaned in response, swiping his tongue over her nipple, teeth scraping her flesh, almost painfully pinching her nipple in hopes that it would make her pull his hair. “Fuck, baby, I love your mouth,” she praised, tugging at his hair to bring him up for a kiss.
“Want it?” He asked with a grin, blowing air over her saliva-coated nipple. “Want it on yours?” He teased, kissing his way across to her other breast, giving it the same attention as the other. “Or do you want me to keep it here?” He murmured, circling her nipple with the tip of his tongue, then sucked on it gently. With both of her hands on him, she pulled the hair at the top of his head and dug her fingernails into his bicep, whining. “Want it somewhere else?” He asked, sliding both of his hands down her sides until he was holding her impatient hips still against the bed. His pinkies moved underneath her panties. “Like right here?”
“Fuck, yes,” she whispered.
A loud blaring alarm from Y/n’s phone interrupted him from pulling her underwear off. He looked back at the source with a scowl, but otherwise began to tug her underwear down. She slowly sat up anyway, confused by the alarm she had no memory of setting. Dean ignored the alarm, slapping her thigh so she’d part her legs again and lay down, but she was deep in thought, attempting to remember the reason she’d set the alarm, her face pinched in concentration.
“Oh… shit,” she scrambled up off the bed suddenly, lifting her underwear back in place. Just like that, the need for him to take her dissipated. His mouth fell open in disbelief, perceiving her sudden regained interest in returning to her game.
“Babe,” he scoffed, “seriously?” She looked back at him, immediately apologetic.
“I’m… sorry, D,” she chuckled, “I forgot I’d promised to help with this raid. Raincheck?” She bit her lip, shaking her leg even as she stood.
“How ‘bout you put a raincheck on that and come back to bed with me?” He suggested, but there wasn’t much confidence in his voice or his words.
“Dean,” she started, turning away from him to set up her mic and headset. He groaned, falling back into the bed. “Eat your breakfast and I swear I’ll make it up to you,” she offered, still with her back facing him. He sat up and glared at her, then smiled innocently when she turned back to raise a brow at his silence. “Don’t look at me like that!” She pouted, his lips parted and he was ready to argue. “Don’t lie to me! I know you,” she cut him off, turning away and sitting back in her seat with an exaggerated huff.
“Cockblock,” he murmured, playfully.
“Shut up,” she retorted, smiling.
Dean groaned, long and childish, before doing as she told him to do. He peeked over her chair to watch her play and grumbled begrudging words under his breath when she laughed at something one of her teammates said. He whined loudly again and she turned back just to raise a brow at him.
“I’m gonna make you pay,” he mouthed to her. She squinted her eyes and shook her head, turning her attention back on the game. Dean opened the laptop on the bed and dug into his food halfheartedly, looking for something to watch with no interest in actually finding something.
Occasionally, Dean would glance up from his plate to see that Y/n’s character was standing still behind a building while she ate, then she’d stop eating to move her character or to shoot at someone that was about to kill her. He wondered how long it would take for her to get the raid done, hell, he even considered learning how to play just to be with her.
Dean waited for half an hour before shutting his laptop and placing it on the nightstand. He stared boredly as Y/n planned out the next encounter and what each person had to do to succeed. He sighed and took his plate, checking Y/n’s desk for hers, which was also empty. Dean pressed a kiss to the top of her head before making his way out of her room.
Dean busied himself with washing the dishes, making sure to do it slowly, but it only gave his mind the chance to go to the gutter.
He remembered a few times when he’d licked whipped cream off her naked body, or when she’d licked honey off his. It was like his mind was working against him, forcing him to relive the way she tasted, the way she felt so soft beneath him, how hot she looked when she rode him, all of their trysts swam around his head, even the daring things they’d done suddenly came to the front of his mind.
Like that time Sam went on a hunt with Eileen and Dean had decided to walk around naked for the whole week. The amount of times he fucked Y/n was legendary, especially the locations they chose. Including right where he was currently washing the dishes. It was the first day he’d decided to go nude, she was washing the dishes from the previous night and he snuck up behind her with his face buried in her neck.
She’d reached behind to playfully smack his ass the way she always did, but was stunned by the feeling of skin. She’d laughed for while and he joked back before grasping her hips, tugging her pink underwear down her legs to stop at her knees, and fucking her. It was domestic, that turned him on the most, remembering her with her hair messy morning hair--sex-hair, really, because they’d fucked the previous night. She was just in his flannel and she looked hot, the way she always did, beautiful. He vividly remembers the way his cum had dripped down her thighs when he pulled out of her.
He moaned softly at the memory, the sound coming out almost whiny.
What was that sex they had the previous night? Well, it was the reason she was washing dishes that morning. He’d gotten up in the middle of the night to snack on something because he got hungry and as he cleaned up, using only a small lamp to see the kitchen, she’d snuck up on him.
He got scared, when she stood still at the entrance of the kitchen just in his robe. Then he laughed when she moved and came into the light, and just like the next morning, she joked back, then he lifted her up on the metal counter, opening the robe to see her wearing nothing, and he fucked her while staring deeply into her sleepy eyes as she clung to him. His robe caught all the cum that spilled out of her and she put it in the washing machine, despite his protests.
He licked his lips at these memories, feeling uncomfortably hot, with his cock hard again.
Sam always scolded Dean for his seemingly high libido, and Dean usually brushed it off because he didn’t always get laid. When they went on hunts, it was hard to find someone willing to have sex with no strings attached. Even before Y/n, it was just an occasional thing, when he saved the girl--if the occasion happened to arise, which it rarely did because he had to be safe about who he was taking to bed.
It was all very complicated. Sex and hunting.
It wasn’t complicated now.
Dean had what he liked to call ‘a healthy appetite for his woman’. It made Y/n laugh, but Sam would grimace, and Cas would squint his eyes and tilt his head in confusion.
Finding the Bunker only intensified his ‘appetite’. And being alone with her in the Bunker made his appetite more intense, all-consuming.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, finishing up with the dishes a little faster. He wanted to find something to do that would take his mind off things. He made a list in his head of things he could do: clean the inside of the Impala, change the oil, shower or take a bath, organise his room.
All that sounded boring enough to him, distracting enough to at least get rid of the raging boner he was sporting. He felt like a teenager again. He shook his head, drying his wet hands with a towel, double checking that the dishes were dry and clean. He grabbed the towel, letting a bit of water trickle over it to dampen it, before walking to his room.
He organised the dozens of papers he had strewn across his desk, fixed the photo of him with his mom, and cleaned away the dust trapped in the crooks and crannies with a partially wet towel he brought from the kitchen. He organised the contents inside the draws, placing the phones neatly in the back, making sure everything was in its own spot so it was evenly levelled.
He went around his room, cleaning the wooden surfaces, organising papers and books into their correct spots. For some reason, Y/n was looking at his porn last night, she mostly giggled while flipping through the magazines. She left that on the green couch.
They’d christened that, too, when he first dragged it to his room. It was pretty small, but perfect for when she was on top and he had his face buried in her chest, leaving her skin warm and damp with his breath, moaning as she bounced on his lap. He should’ve known better than to expect cleaning his room to get his mind off sex.
He picked up the flannel he’d left on the chairs and over the couch, smelling them to check if they needed to be washed. He smiled when he picked up her scent instead of his in the warm cotton of his clothes. He put some of their coats on the little hooks on the wall, checking that they were clear of stains and adding them to the pile of dirty clothes that was growing on the floor by his bed.
He checked every drawer for unnecessary items, like old candy wrappers and receipts, only throwing out the ones that weren’t associated with some good memories. Then, he fixed the contents that did belong there.
He checked under the tables, the chairs, the couch, and his bed for lost items. He found some of Y/n’s underwear and some boring black socks. He unfortunately came across the two large boxes, one filled with sex toys and the other filled with pornographic photos of him and Y/n. He was so tempted to look through them, but resisted and decided to throw out the mouldy burger he kept in his room.
He cleaned out the cupboard over the sink in his room, throwing out expired medication.
He had so much stuff in his room, but he got it all cleaned up and organised eventually.
He grabbed the dirty clothes off the floor and walked to where the washing machine and dryer were, shoving the matching clothes together into the washer and separating everything into piles along the floor. As it washed, he went to the garage to clean up his Baby and change the oil.
He went back and forth, between taking the clothes in and out of the washer, in and out of the dryer, and then to the garage until the Impala was completely clean inside, the weaponry was organised in the trunk, and the changed the oil, which got him a bit dirty. But it was his plan to shower or bathe eventually before heading back to check if Y/n had finished the raid yet.
He knew Baby would lead to some lewd memories, too. Old memories of when they had to make do in his car because they were impatient, but mostly to avoid Sam’s disgust in the times before they found the Bunker. All three of them had to share and it was a hassle having to be quick when Sam went out, while they showered, or when Sam finally fell asleep, having to be quiet. It was hard for Dean to be quiet.
Dean glared down at his erection for appearing again and cleaned up the mess he left behind to finally get cleaned. A cold shower was overdue to shock his body and to get his brain to focus on something else, literally, anything else besides how badly he wanted to sink into his girlfriend’s warmth, with her smooth legs wrapped around his waist, listening to the glorious sounds she makes, and watching how utterly enraptured she looks.
He groaned with annoyance and quickly washed his hands when he got to his room to get some clean clothes without staining it. He was about to walk out, but stopped at the door, considering one method of seduction that he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.
He grinned and searched his room for the cowboy get-up she loved for him to wear--especially when they roleplayed. It was bound to make her forget all about that game she was so obsessed with. He chuckled and immediately wasted no time to get to the shower, cleaning and scrubbing off grease from his hands and chest, washing his hair and imagining what technique he’d use once he entered her room.
He dried himself off quickly once he stepped out of the shower, messily moving the towel over his hair until it was sticking up in all directions, almost completely dry. He changed first, very neatly flattened the white dress shirt over his chest, tucking it into his black slacks, neatly arranging the bolo tie, and stepping into some cowboy boots. He styled his hair neatly now that it was dryer, using gel to hold some of it in place, and finally--dorkily, he grabbed the beige cowboy hat and placed it gently on his head.
He checked the time on his watch, amazed to see just how much time it took for him to get everything cleaned up properly.
He hoped going back to his room to brush his teeth would give her enough time to finish up the raid. He was just stalling. He had no idea why he was getting nervous all of the sudden. They’d done things like this a thousand times before, sometimes he’d do it shamelessly with people around.
He started to second-guess everything once he got to the hallway leading up to her room. He stopped a few feet away from her door with his hands on his hips, he mumbled reassurances to himself. His heart excitedly thudded in his chest and he was already feeling a blush crawl up his face, bruning his ears and neck.
He steeled himself up, trying to be casual as he got closer and closer, letting out a heavy, shaky breath that puffed up his pink cheeks. He stepped into the room as if a gust of cold wind would greet him, but she was still focused on the game, the headset was abandoned on her desk, and she was in the strangest position ever.
She was lazily slouched in her seat, but looked amused as her fingers expertly moved across the keyboard, her wrist snapping sharply over the mouse to aim perfectly at her target. Had he not been impatient and irritatingly aroused, Dean would praise her skills and maybe stare for a bit longer because it was really hot.
“Wh…” She paused, when she saw him in her peripheral vision, now dressed, but not in the usual flannel and jeans. “What’s… up?” She asked slowly, bewildered, once she turned her head to get a good look at him.
“Nothin’,” Dean replied quickly, shrugging nonchalantly and stepping closer to her. She smiled deviously and his stomach flipped watching her lean back in the chair, completely abandoning her game.
“Nothin’?” She repeated with a chuckle, “then why are you dressed up?” She blinked up at him expectantly, even turning her whole chair in his direction, rolling forward until she was half a foot away from him.
“Uh, I’m bored,” he shrugged again, then reached behind his neck to rub it.
“Uh-huh,” she smirked, eyeing him from head to toe. His blush deepened, his confidence faltering when she bit her lip libidinously at the sight of him.
“So, it’s got nothin’ to do with this?” She asked, but before he could ask her what she was talking about, she hooked her fingers into his belt loops and tugged him forward. He swallowed to bring moisture back into his dry throat, staring into her eyes, captivated by her boldness when she brushed two of her fingers down the seam of his zipper where his cock was straining against.
“Fuck,” he rasped, breath hitching, staring into her eyes while she continued to tease him. She smirked at the stuttered breaths he took. She could clearly feel how hard he was beneath her small hand, making her pussy clench around nothing. Wetness began to dampen her underwear when his breaths came out heavy and aroused, her name slipping from his lips breathlessly. She cupped him in her hand, gently and apologetically squeezing him through the soft material of his black slacks. “Please, baby,” he begged breathily, closing his eyes. He bit his lip, felt his face and entire body flare up with desire to be fucked.
“I gotta finish this first,” she laughed playfully. His eyes snapped open and he whined, a sound that bubbled up his throat involuntarily, but it sounded so hot, Y/n nearly considered abandoning her game--mid-mission. Instead, she cleared her throat and squeezed her thighs together to stop the pulsing of her clit, giving his ass a proper smack that made him jerk forward slightly, knees hitting her chair.
“You’ve been playin’ for hours,” he whined.
She automatically smirked when he pouted, his bottom lip swollen from having been bitten by his sharp teeth. She was about to argue that she hadn’t as she checked her phone for the time, but was shocked to see it had already been four hours since she’d started playing. Somehow, it felt like she barely got anything done in the game.
Interrupting her thoughts and excuses, he leaned forward with his hand flat on her desk to hover over her. Her head snapped back in his direction and she swallowed at his proximity, her eyes immediately drawn to his pillowy pink lips, her legs practically spreading apart involuntarily when he teased the inside of her warm, bare thigh with his knuckles.
She straightened up in her seat, tightly holding the arm rests of her gaming chair when he cupped her pussy the same way she had cupped him just minutes before.
“Fuck me,” he whispered enticingly, sliding his fingers up her covered pussy, teasingly pressing his fingers into her soaked entrance and her throbbing clit. She clenched her thighs together, stopping him from repeating that manoeuvre, but he still managed to brush one of his fingers over her clit repeatedly.
“Later,” she moaned, grasping his wrist and tugging it out from between her legs.
“But you’re so wet,” he complained, dropping down to his knees between her legs. She squirmed in her seat, blushing with lust, letting him grab the back of her knees to place her legs over his shoulders. He gripped her hips and moved her forward until her cunt was right in front of his face and he kissed her pelvis, then quickly licked her clit over her underwear.
“Oh… shit,” she whispered, feeling a new wave of wetness that left her more soaked than she was seconds before. He hooked his forefinger under her underwear, pulling upwards to tease her clit with the soft fabric. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, missing the triumphant sparkle in his eyes.
“Please,” he whispered, loving the way she pulled him forward with her calves against his back, her toes curling in the teal and yellow giraffe socks he got for her two weeks ago. “Is that a ‘yes’?” He asked smugly when she brought her hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, his breath fanning over her soaked underwear, his mouth salivating at the sight of her wetness darkening the cotton.
“Yes, Dean,” she laughed softly.
He hummed softly, moving her underwear to the side to flick her clit teasingly with the tip of his tongue. Holding her underwear to the side with his thumb, he looked up at her through his thick lashes as he started to go down on her, catching her clouded gaze.
She played with the short hairs at the back of his head, biting her lip in amusement.
“What?” He asked, leaning forward to flatten his tongue over her clit, coating it in his saliva. She waited for a while, appreciating the sight of his pretty face shoved between her legs and the way he licked at her clit.
“I love you,” she murmured. He hummed softly in response, gently sucking on her clit, circling an arm around her hips when she arched her back and moaned.
“I know,” he teased, pulling away momentarily to lap at her dripping entrance. “You love my mouth,” he quipped, his tongue pushing through the spasming walls of her pussy. He pushed his face completely against her cunt, his nose teasing her clit, moaning softly when she squeezed his tongue once it slipped as deep as he could push it inside her.
“That too,” she agreed with laughter in her otherwise breathless voice. She tipped the hat on his head back slightly, exposing him to her again. “Among other things,” she added quietly. Another hum moved through her and her thighs twitched in response to the vibrations it created on her pussy.
He closed his eyes, wiggling his tongue inside her before pulling out and tracing her labia, leaving traces of his saliva behind. He left open mouthed kisses on her sex, his eyes fluttering open attractively, gazing up at her to see how she was doing.
“G.... Dean…” she gasped, longing for more, “please.”
“You made me wait,” he countered, leaning back to pull her legs off his shoulders.
“What? Are you mad?” She teased with a stunned laugh as he grabbed the seam of her socks to slide them off her feet. He gave her a deadpan look in response, but tugged her underwear off nonetheless.
“No,” he replied eventually, dangling her ruined underwear in front of her. “I’ve got my face buried in this sweet pussy of yours,” he smirked. Her stomach clenched with desire and her breath got caught in her chest the way the words sounded so hot coming out of his mouth. She snatched her underwear away from him, blushing, and threw them across the room.
He ignored it, eyes fixed between her legs.
“Look at how wet you are for me, darlin’, practically dripping,” he chuckled deeply, slapping her clit with three fingers.
She jolted in surprise, “fuck.”
“I’ve got other stuff in mind,” he dismissed, standing up to twirl her chair slightly, so the back of it hit her desk, stopping it from moving around too much. He grabbed the hem of the shirt she was wearing and tugged it upwards, letting her take it off the rest of the way, just for her to throw it behind her. It ended up draped over her monitor.
“Like what?” She asked curiously, eyes glued on him as he walked towards the bed to grab the pillow to place it in front of her. He dropped down on it, shifting on his knees to test the way it felt beneath him. She regained his attention by tapping his nose with her forefinger. He scrunched it up adorably, took her hand in his and gave her fingertips a little kiss. She smiled down at him and watched him stand on his knees, leaning forward with two fingers under her chin.
“Have I fucked you in this chair?” He wondered out loud, pecking her lips as she replied with a ‘no’. She smiled, closing her eyes, holding onto the lapels of his black suit to steady herself. His nose brushed against hers, teasing her lips with his soft breath. “Have I fingered you in it? Or eaten you out?” He kissed her in between each question, dropping his hand from her chin to knead her thighs.
“No,” she whispered, her body tingling pleasantly, vibrating with longing.
He hummed softly, easily pushing his tongue past her lips, and lifted her thighs to position them over the armrests of her chair. She moaned softly, tasting the fresh mint of toothpaste on his tongue. She slid her hands up his chest, into his soft hair to carefully tug at the short strands without disturbing the hat at the top of his head. She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, vaguely aware of his fingertips brushing along the inside of her thigh.
He popped his thumb into his mouth, covering it in spit before pressing his fingers against her skin as he reached to find her clit between her damp folds with his thumb. Her stomach twisted, aching for more, but she accepted what he gave her, relishing in the gentle touches to her cunt, in the way he kissed her breath away, slowly sucking her tongue, and heatedly licking into her mouth.
His wet thumb moved over her clit, rubbing up and down languidly, then in circles while her walls squeezed around nothing. She moaned into his mouth needily, withdrawing her tongue from within his mouth to suck and bite at his plump, bottom lip. He smiled and circled two fingers around her entrance, gathering the wetness that made her folds glisten.
“Holy--” she gasped suddenly, pulling away from his mouth when he subsequently pushed a finger into her. He used one of his arms to push her thigh against the armrest, keeping her fairly still.
“There ain’t nothin’ holy ‘bout what I wanna do to you, sweetheart,” he murmured, dropping wet kisses over her chest. He smirked against her cleavage when her pussy squeezed his finger in return, so he pushed another one into her. Slowly, he stretched her open, the burn of his thick fingers, the way he pushed them deeper and deeper until his knuckles stopped him turned her on more and more.
He stopped kissing her breasts, licking his lips when he gave her a quick glance from under the rim of his cowboy hat. He tipped his chin downward to watch her stretch around his fingers, his cock now painfully hard. When he brought his fingers out slightly, they reappeared drenched in her arousal, making it easier for him to scissor them back into her. He bit his lip roughly, listening only to her broken breaths, faintly aware of her rigid grip on his forearms.
She squirmed restlessly in the chair, her clit aching for attention.
He curled his fingers inside her, pressing into her and stroking her inner walls so she could feel the sparks of her impending orgasm. He shifted his arm against her thigh to hold her hip in a rather harsh squeeze that she found more pleasurable than uncomfortable.
“Touch your tits, babe,” he instructed, leaning forward so the edge of his cowboy hat teased her skin, depositing little kisses down her stomach to take her clit between his lips once again. She cried out softly, hands cupping her breasts, on her way to pinch her nipples and roll them between her fingers. Her hips bucked against Dean’s strong hold so he gave her the freedom to move as much as she wanted.
He licked ravenously at her clit, drawing circles on and around it, and simultaneously, he pushed a third finger into her. He let her roll her hips up, following her lead as he sucked and expertly caressed her clit with his tongue.
“Dean,” she mewled. He grinned against her pussy, moaning in acknowledgment, speeding up the thrust of his fingers, delighting in the obscene squelch of her cunt each time he pushed them into her.
Her back arched further and her head fell back against the chair as her orgasm approached. He continued sucking her clit earnestly, his nose pressed against her silky skin, grunting the instant her pussy throbbed around all three of his fingers. He moved his arm to wrap around her hips, pressing her closer to his mouth, covetously squeezing her flesh to enhance the pleasure she felt from her orgasm.
“Oh… fuck… yes,” she gasped, pushing her hips closer to his drooling mouth, teetering on the edge of never ending pleasure. One of her hands released her breast to press against the back of his neck, holding his face impossibly close to her pussy. Her free thigh found its way back over his shoulder as powerful pulses of pleasure made her body shake and shudder.
“Dean,” she praised passionately, followed by a few, more desperate whispers of his name and drawn-out curse words that ended only when she was coming down her high.
Dean carefully pulled his fingers out of her, abandoning her sensitive clit to look up at her whilst she caught her breath, her heartbeat slowing down. He licked his swollen, wet lips, smiling at the sight of her glowing and blissed out semblance.
He murmured her name and kissed her across her hips, massaging the thigh she had placed over his shoulder. He splayed his hand across her back and kissed his way back down to lick her clean, murmuring adorations against her skin. She hummed fondly, eyes slowly fluttering open to gaze at her lover.
“Are you gonna remember how I made you cum in this chair?” He jested quietly, then rubbed his fingers together, playing with her cum. He popped his fingers into his watering mouth, pretty, green eyes now staring up into hers.
She laughed and nodded, biting her lip.
“Awesome,” he grinned, standing up weakly to stretch.
She straightened up in her chair, beholding him and all the effort he put into seducing her. She nibbled on her lip, letting him stretch and relax before getting up and practically jumping him.
“You’re awesome,” she murmured, bringing him down for a passionate kiss. He moaned in surprise, brows rising before he relaxed into the rapturous kiss. Her nimble fingers worked on quickly unbuttoning his shirt, moving forward with him so he got closer to the bed.
She pulled away, tongue sliding along her wet lip to watch him sit down and work on getting the belt off. She climbed into his lap, nibbling on his jaw, moving his hands away to finish unbuckling his belt herself, rolling her hips against his throbbing erection before he could get his hands on her.
“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around her so tight she couldn’t even move. “Lets play a game,” he suggested suddenly, releasing her when she pulled back and tilted her head at him, perplexed. “First one to make a noise loses.”
“Loses?”
“The right to cum,” he added.
“When you’re this hard?” She asked, making her point by grinding her hips roughly against his. He groaned out a laugh, deep and hot.
“I’m not the one who’s ovulating,” he pointed out matter-of-factly. She gasped dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest. He held her hips securely to keep her balanced on his lap as she bantered with him, a grin on his face.
“Rude,” she accused playfully, “how dare you use that against me?” She giggled, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down and over to the side so he laid on top of her. He let her manoeuvre him and chuckled. “You’re gonna keep this on, right?” She asked, lightly flicking the beige hat on his head so it moved slightly, but didn’t come off.
“If you really want me to.” He kissed her cheek tenderly.
“I dunno,” she pondered, “I kinda like you naked, too.”
“Kinda?” He pouted, biting her jaw.
She took the hat on his head and threw it over to her chair, “I really like it when you’re naked, too,” she corrected herself with a loving smile, eyes sparkling.
“I like it when you’re naked,” he murmured, rocking his hips against hers. She bit her lip hard, trapping a gasp. “We were right about here earlier, weren’t we?” He asked seductively, dropping a quick kiss on her lips.
The smirk stretching across his face gave away that he knew what he was doing to her. She only nodded in response, focusing on shoving the suit jacket and white dress shirt over his shoulders at the same time. He chuckled at her urgency, standing on his knees between her parted legs to shrug them off calmly.
She narrowed her eyes at him, shimmying down to begin unbuttoning his pants, zipping them down with one hand and pulling the belt out of the loops with the other before he even got the either article off his arms.
“Baby,” he laughed, grabbing her thighs and pulling them above his, “slow down.”
She frowned playfully, “I don’t wanna slow down.” She put her hands on his hips and under his shirt, thumbs tantalisingly brushing against the warm skin of his hip bones.
“Oh, so, now you want me really bad,” he teased, voice heavy with lust. He leaned back slightly to take her in with her legs spread open over his thighs, soft hair haloing her head, a blush glowing across her cheeks. As he admired her silently, she bit her lip at the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest and broad shoulders.
“I always want you really bad,” she rebutted lustfully, slowly lifting the white t-shirt up his torso.
“Don’t worry, beautiful, Imma fill you up real good,” he promised in a hushed voice, pulling the shirt over his head, then getting off the bed to pull his slacks and boxer briefs down his legs. “Don’t forget… you can’t make a sound,” he reminded her, crawling back up her body.
“As long as you play fair….” She murmured, bringing him down for a kiss with a hand behind his head. Fingers threaded through his hair and he laughed deeply, dipping down to kiss her.
“I never play fair,” he mumbled against her mouth.
Before she could react, he bit her lip and shoved his tongue into her mouth, licking and sucking fervently, hoping to draw sounds from her that would make her lose the game he proposed before he even got started.
She squirmed underneath him, a whimper of pleasure bubbling up her throat, but poking his ribs made him pull away from her swiftly, “asshole!”
He laughed breathlessly, leaning on his side, still laying between her legs with his cock leaking and hard against her tummy. He held himself up with his arm resting beside her head and brought his freehand to her face, brushing soft strands away from her grumpy face.
“I had to try,” he chuckled, tracing the side of her face.
“I should.. just… get up and walk away,” she threatened playfully, putting a finger on his lips when he tried to dip down to kiss her again.
“Hey, come on, babe,” he whined.
She laughed at him, “just fuck me, pretty boy.”
He pretended to consider her words, slowly sliding the two fingers on her jaw down to her neck, between her breasts, and along her stomach. Her heart jumped and she clenched her jaw while she watched his eyes follow the path of his fingers moving over her body. “I can do that,” he smirked, captivating her in his alluring gaze.
She grabbed his chin, angling his face towards the light of the lamp, her eyes soft and tracing over the beautiful features of his face, from the gorgeous curl of his golden eyelashes, to the now-pink background where his freckles were splattered along artfully across his nose and cheeks, to the edges of his utterly breathtaking face. His brows pinched together curiously and his swollen, soft, pink lips parted momentarily before closing, his green eyes shyly shifting away from her face.
“Not like this, though,” he murmured, breaking her trance. She hummed mindlessly, eyes flickering up to his, his words confounding her.
He looked at her again and then grinned mischievously, standing up just to manhandle her until she was laying on her stomach. She laughed and squirmed, looking at him from over her shoulder, but just as she was about to get on all fours, he pressed his large hand to the small of back, keeping her in place.
“Wait,” she said quickly, eyes widening in realisation when he started to angle himself between her legs. “No! You cheater,” she laughed. He snickered playfully, gripping her thigh and sliding it up to the side with her knee bent to have more access.
“I aim to please,” he jested, taking his cock and teasing her dripping entrance with the soft head.
“Yeah, yourself,” she quipped. He snorted, observing the smear of his precum over her clit and inner labia. She didn’t move away or stop him, so he continued to tease her, sliding his cock down to tap her throbbing clit, but she bit down on her lip painfully, sounds straining to escape her throat.
She screwed her eyes shut as if it would help her concentrate on anything other than the way he teased her and gripped the sheets beneath her hands tightly. After gathering enough of her slick, he started to jerk himself off, coating his throbbing cock—and subsequently his hand—in her arousal.
He panted heavily and draped himself over her back, depositing loving kisses along her shoulders and neck. Still, nothing could prepare her for the way he thrusted into her. She was so wet, he didn’t even meet any resistance, and he could feel every inch of his cock stroke along the inside of her tightening walls, deeply penetrating her.
“Jesus Christ,” she moaned involuntarily.
“Uh, no, it’s Dean, actually,” he chuckled, then slowly started to pull out of her, and paused. “By the way, I, uhhh, think you just lost.” He thrusted back into her roughly and she moaned again, cutting off her sentence before it even began, but he knew it was probably gonna be ‘fuck you’ or something else along those lines.
He muffled a deep groan against her shoulder and roughly grabbed her hip to keep her still as she squirmed and whined for more. Blunt nails dug into her flesh and she whimpered with each thrust, toes curling every time the soft head of his cock brushed and pressed against her cervix.
“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, nuzzling his face into her neck. Her stomach clenched at his words, his low groan causing a flutter to grow in her lower abdomen, all the while her heart skipped a beat and her breath swirled around her chest ecstatically when his lips brushed softly against her pulse.
“Please,” she whimpered, reaching down to place her hand over the one he had on her hip, holding on tightly. He angled her hips up slightly, picking up the pace, his teeth sinking roughly into the skin between her shoulder and neck.
He grunted softly, skilfully pulling out so only the head of his cock remained inside her and pushing back into her swiftly, over and over. He fucked into her with enough force to knock the wooden headboard into the concrete walls, hard enough to create an erotic symphony with the sound of her soppy pussy taking him and her skin being impacted by his.
His throbbing cock brushed continuously along the inside of her walls and collided deliciously with her cervix, pulling quiet gasps and low moans from her. Neither of them could stand it. The way she felt wrapped around every inch of him made him so dizzy, he felt like exploding. His muscles ached and burned with effort and he couldn’t stop vocalising his pleasure right into her ear or against her damp skin.
He could feel his orgasm bubbling over and he inhaled sharply to keep it at bay just to keep enjoying the sensation of her body being this close to his, to remain in between the moment of overwhelming pleasure and exquisite torture forever.
Still, he couldn’t resist the temptation of letting go and spilled into her with a long groan of her name. He deliriously praised and worshipped her as he pressed deeper, the warmth of his semen filling her insides.
Her walls clamped down on him, her own orgasm looming over her, but even this mindlessly blissed out, she denied herself pleasure for the sake of their game. The heat of his cum resting inside her made her moan, a sensation she began to enjoy since they became ‘serious’.
He had stilled temporarily, waiting to empty himself into her as profoundly as their bodies permitted before slowly rocking his hips into her again. Once again, he venerated her quietly before pulling out and collapsing breathlessly beside her, his rapidly beating heart returning to its original rhythm.
He gave her ass a playful smack and smiled lazily when she giggled. “You didn’t come,” he murmured, watching dreamily as she turned to face him, and scooted into his side to drop kisses along his collarbone.
“I lost the right to,” she chuckled, her lips brushing against his neck to suck a mark on his pulse point.
He moaned softly, snaking his arms under her waist, wrapping around to hold her closer. She lifted her thigh over his hip, pressing herself against him completely, ignoring the warmth of his cum as it dripped out of her. She kissed across his jawline, nibbling gently, and finally claimed his soft lips.
“I can’t get enough of you,” she murmured, straddling him. She pressed her chest against his and his hands held onto the sides of her knees fleetingly, then slowly slid upwards. His fingers pressed into her flesh, blunt nails scraping along her silky skin. He squeezed her hips and moved his lips against hers, tongues meeting languidly past parted lips, licking and tasting.
“That’s just ‘cause you’re ovulating,” he mumbled against her mouth, his hands smoothing up her back to pull her closer. “You usually can’t stand me,” he teased between kisses, chasing her mouth when she pulled back with a playful frown.
“Right,” she started, a laugh bubbling up her throat. “Between.. loving you more insanely and profoundly than literally anyone else in the entire multiverse… and the possibility of a time ever coming in which I’d destroy every universe for you… where’d me ‘not being able to stand’ you come from?” His eyes flickered across her face, the furrow of her brows, the frown that tugged at her lips.
He enjoyed the weight of her loaded words, the unspoken words and meaningfulness in between the long stretch of silence between them. More than anything, Dean wanted to establish that she meant every word, but his tongue lay heavy in his mouth and his heart palpitated with a resurgence of desire. She waited for him as a million words hung in the air, but Dean remained speechless, elated—even aroused by her explicit and very intense expression.
She closed her eyes when he reached up to play with her hair. “You’re so selfish,” he murmured, pulling her down for a passionate kiss, cupping the back of her head in his large hand. The other hand snuck between their bodies, parting her from him just to reach between her thighs where she was drenched and needy.
Mercilessly, he plunged his fingers into her, moaning loudly as his digits brutally slid in and out of her. His palm slapped against her swollen clit and she cried out against his mouth, burying her face next to his to muffle her moans.
He tugged her hair roughly, forcing her back up and stared rapaciously at her face with parted lips, his cum pooling in his hand and down his knuckles. She fucked herself eagerly on his fingers, brows furrowing in gratification, her nails nearly cutting into the skin of his bicep.
“So fucking greedy for me. Aren’t you, baby?” He asked breathlessly, his gaze moving down between their bodies as she sank down onto his fingers.
“Yes! Fuck,” she shouted resolutely. Her pussy clamped down around his fingers, signalling the proximity of her release, she wanted to collapse on him, weak. His green eyes flickered back up to look deeply into her own eyes.
“Come for me,” he ordered softly, grinding his palm against her clit. “Come on, beautiful… I fucking love you.”
She cried out his name, squirting around his adept fingers. He let her bury her face in his neck this time, astonished and smug as he fingered her through a clearly intense orgasm. He turned slightly to kiss her temple and her head, his fingers gently massaging her scalp while she attempted to calm her stuttering breaths and wild heart.
He removed his fingers from inside her, and grinned at the ceiling, “I love when that happens.”
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The Most Innocent Sinner
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Summary: For everyone, she's the shy, pure, little Y/n. Dating Dean Winchester is like going on dates with the complete opposite of her. So it is a very nice surprise when Dean learns how kinky she actually is by finding her collection of sex toys.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Rating: 18+
Content warning: Sex toys, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk
Square filled: Dildos for @spnkinkevents / “Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home.” for @jacklesversebingo / masturbation for @anyfandomkinkbingo / “Unfortunately, I’m turned on by that.” for @anyfandomgoesbingo
A/n: Finding a title is so hard. I got stuck on this one for way too long. Big thanks to my friends that helped me!
From the outside, Y/n looked like a Saint. Cute, she wasn't very tall and almost sickly shy, and her social anxiety didn't help her case at all.
Since she didn’t have many friends, Y/n spent her time at the library surrounded by stories that made her forget how alone she felt. The characters on these yellowed sheets would never judge or criticize her, it was a comfort in which she really liked to immerse herself, especially after a hard day.
It was also where she met the Winchester brothers for the first time.
For someone like Y/n, the complete opposite of popular, invisible to people even when she was in the same room with them, the Winchesters were the pinnacle of perfection. Bodies built like gods, well-defined faces, piercing eyes, they gave off a strong and dominating aura that attracted the gaze of everyone in their path. And Y/n was no exception.
The moment the two brothers walked near her table at the library, there was no longer any need to read. Her book closed by itself in front of her, as she no longer held it open, her eyes fixedly stuck on the two men. Following their directions with her gaze, she turned her head, almost hurting her neck.
The colors around her suddenly seemed more vivid. The sounds, sweeter to the ear. She strained her ear to better listen to their conversations. And it was then that the stories she loved reading so much... Became reality.
Y/n had always had a habit of making herself fade away. Not wanting to attract attention, remaining discreet and making herself as small as possible. But the moment she saw them, it was like a light bulb went on inside her, and filled her with a life she had never really felt. And she decided to change that.
She didn’t want to hide anymore.
It was an adventure awaiting her, just like in her books. Filled with villains, monsters, but also angels, laughter, food and finally, a place where she belonged. It didn't take long for her to take part in their lives, quickly becoming a full member of their families. Although she wasn’t trained to be in the field hunting monsters, her lifelong experience of extensive reading was too vital and important to refuse her help.
Initially, Y/n was assigned to research. It was perfect for her, she could show them how efficient she was at this task so they would give her more to do eventually. Quickly, she climbed the ranks in the Winchesters' trust and became closer to them.
Everything about her personality was perfect to fit with Sam's. And yet, as the months stretched into years, she inevitably grew closer to Dean. Some will say that opposites flock together, and they are not wrong. Dean was the opposite of Y/n, stubborn, he didn't hesitate to say what was on his mind and loved seeing the adorable expression that invaded her face when he made inappropriate or worse, sexual comments. Immediately, Y/n would disappear from the room almost like magic, or she would become so embarrassed that he took pity and immediately changed the subject.
Y/n had a purity that Dean never had, and it was one of the reasons why even after all this time knowing her, he was still reluctant to let her come with them on hunts. Or even to involve her in anything that could endanger her or defile this purity. If he could keep her from losing that sparkle in her eyes, he would, no matter the cost.
After a few months of dating, Y/n finally agreed to live in the bunker with them. Dean helped her move in, putting her things in a room other than his, and although not sharing the same bed disappointed him a little, he understood why. She wasn't ready, and he insisted on her comfort. He was willing to wait for her as long as it took.
“If I had known you had that many boxes, I would have brought in extra hands,” Dean huffed, placing yet another heavy box on the ground. Straightening up, he raised his arms above his head to stretch his back.
“Sorry, all my books,” Y/n shrugged and lowered her head, embarrassed.
With a quick wave of his hand, Dean signaled that it was nothing. “It only takes a little longer but it’s no problem,” he quickly said to reassure her, so she wouldn’t feel bad about having so much stuff. After all this time knowing her, he knew how important her books were to her.
Her 500 books which weighed bricks to transport…
“I'll go get another box,” she accepted Dean's answer and as she passed him on her way out, left a quick kiss on the cheek. It was Dean's turn to react, his face quickly turning red.
“Okay, in the meantime, I'm going to start…” Glancing at the mountain of cardboard, Dean sighed again. “Cleaning a little…”
Sam wasn't there. Although he proposed his help for moving her stuff in, Dean's ego was more powerful. As a boyfriend, he had to take care of his girlfriend himself. Without help. Showing her that he was there for her, and that she would always be his priority.
Dean had been in several relationships in the past. And he loved each woman with all of his soul. But each time, his work, his family or the apocalypse had forced him to leave. It had been a very difficult task each time, but he had done it.
Just the thought of leaving Y/n had the same effect as losing a limb. It was unthinkable.
Ah shit. He was in love.
Him, in love?
It was the first time.
… Wait a minute.
He was in love with her.
This realization hit him harder than he expected. Dean took a few steps back, his head spinning quickly. He was in love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Never in his entire life had he felt this kind of thing for someone, feelings so strong, so true. When they were together, he felt so good, like he had finally found the thing he was missing. The person he needed.
Dean took another step back, and inevitably, his legs encountered a box. He lost his balance and, trying not to cause a landslide, had to hold himself against the nearest thing… Another box.
This one was strangely and unfortunately lighter than the others and failed to stop him from doing damage. Luckily, Dean kept his balance and avoided the embarrassment of falling on his butt, but the box fell to the ground.
“Son of a bitch,” he grumbled as he hurried to pick it up. As he took it, he noticed that it was not closed properly. It was definitely not his plan to go through Y/n's personal belongings, but when he opened the box to close it better, he couldn't help but see what was inside.
And it wasn't his fault. The first item on top was a box that displayed the inscription of its contents, and his curiosity, well… took care of the rest.
“What the…” taking the item in question, Dean examined it. His hunter's eye detected every detail, inscriptions, the wear on the cardboard and even the place where the packaging had once been sealed before opening. The sticky paper seemed to have been removed so quickly, the color of the cardboard remained stuck on it. It was exactly as if its owner, eager to have the object, hadn’t been concerned by the breakage of its packaging.
SO. It was still possible that the contents were not what was written in black and white on the packaging. It was still a possibility. Dean understood, it was his duty to get to the bottom of it once and for all. Otherwise, the question would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Heart racing for no good reason, Dean placed his fingers where the paper was torn off and pulled the tab. Then, breathless, he opened the box and peered inside.
“Son of a bitch,” his mouth breathed along with the last of his oxygen. No... he couldn't believe it. As if he needed further proof that his eyes had already given him, Dean reached into the box and pulled out the object.
It was still in its bag, but an opening proved its frequent use. Both soft and very hard, it was of regular size and of a pretty pink shade. Dean didn't need to take it out of the bag to know that underneath was the little hole to get charged, the wire still in the box.
In his hand, Dean held the thing he never thought he would hold… Let alone find among his girlfriend's stuff. The sweet, pure, shy Y/n.
Scared that she would come back and see him like this, Dean quickly put the pink dildo vibrator back in its box. A thousand questions swirled through his mind and his heart still hadn't stopped pounding in his ribcage. In his eagerness and nervousness, Dean almost dropped the box, so he had to pull himself together to put it back exactly where he had found it.
And that was when he saw them.
There were plenty of them. A dozen even. Some had their original packaging, others had boxes without inscription. Curiosity rose in Dean who forgot the presence of his girlfriend and owner of these toys in the bunker. It was like suddenly he was alone in the world as he began to pull out everything he had in front of his eyes, his pupils dilating with each new discovery.
Small portable vibrator. One that looked like a butterfly, insertable and vibrant. A… dolphin? A flesh-colored dildo, including ball and base with suction. A magic staff. Purple, pink, black, the colors were added one after the other. And then suddenly...
Dean came across the largest box.
It was curiously and surprisingly big for what was inside. Dean couldn't help it. It was heavy, there was no doubt about the contents, but he had to see it with his eyes, hold it in his hands, and absorb reality.
It couldn't be that big... right?
And oh my god.
“Now that’s something you definitely shouldn’t try at home…”
Examining it from every angle, he still couldn't understand. The words “bad dragon” were forever imprinted in his brain along with the image of that purple and blue hued dildo. It was imposing, as tall as it was wide, and the different textures were strange but pleasant to the touch. And inevitably, his brain went in that perverse direction he imagined...
Her moans filled the room and the echo was carried throughout the whole bunker. Sounds of pleasure? No. Of frustration. She moaned as she tried as best she could to get the dildo into her entrance, which was still too tight for such a monster. But her determination only grew with her goal, and the idea alone of being able to have all those inches inside her was so exciting that she almost didn't need any lube.
“Oh fuck,” breathed through her lips as the head of the toy finally pierced the breach. Her head tilting back, she wiggled on the dildo to widen her entrance to accommodate the rest. Kneeling over the toy made it easier for her to maneuver her body and part her lips for guidance. And when finally the dildo was inside her, a long sigh of relief mixed with the pleasure of having succeeded hissed between her lips.
“I love the view…”
Dean hadn't missed a single thing. Standing in the doorway, he watched, admired, and nourished himself with the magnificent view before him. Kneeling on the bed facing him, she knew he was there. Even though her eyes were closed, she felt his presence, heard his heavy breathing. And then there was the rustling of his clothes every time he adjusted his position or reached for his swollen crotch.
It was one of the hottest things she had ever experienced. The desire was so strong it was palpable. The smell of sex filled the room. A moan passed her lips as she opened her eyes to look at him, her breath leaving her lungs, making the air almost unbreathable because it was so saturated.
"Oh. No."
The sound of a heavy object hitting the ground brought him back to consciousness. Then it took him several seconds to realize the voice that had spoken just before the impact, what it had said and who it belonged to. Turning towards the door, Dean's eyes were wide open, the green almost disappearing from his irises because his pupils were so dilated.
Her face was not in any better condition. As her eyes, wide with fear and shame, moved between what he was holding and the box behind him and finally settling on him, Dean could see the embarrassment quickly filling her being.
“What is this?”
Still shocked by his discovery and what it implied, these words were the first and only ones that had managed to escape his lips. Obviously, he knew what it was, and what it was for. However, he needed to hear it from her mouth. To confirm what his eyes had already understood.
His question only made her more uncomfortable.
“You weren’t supposed to see that,” she muttered under her breath, lowering her head and crossing the distance between them to grab the dildo and remove it from the hunter’s hands. All this to hide the evidence that had already been consumed, unfortunately. “Please, forget about it,” she pleaded, still refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand resting next to Dean's on the dildo, she tried to take it back, but was surprised to see that he didn't want to let it go. “Dean?”
“It’s impossible,” his voice was low, almost a breath lost in the tension of the air. “Unfortunately… I’m turned on by that. And here I thought you were all pure and shy…” Taking a pause in his words only made the state Y/n was in worse. Next to Dean, she felt his breath against her cheek, and the heat of his body. It was heavy, his chest moving in time with his harsh breathing. As if he had to do everything to hold back. “I waited for you to be ready, and I'll still wait but… Y/n…” As she still refused to raise her head and meet his gaze, Dean took his other hand, the one that wasn't holding the dildo, to gently lift Y/n’s chin. “Thinking about you touching yourself with that… oh fuck, it’s hot, sweetheart.”
“Yeah?” A shy smile appeared on her lips, her eyes watering at how she was embarrassed but still... Very excited by this idea.
“Oh yeah,” Dean swallowed, his green eyes darting from Y/n's lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. Like two magnets held too far apart, but at the same time too close, it was inevitable.
Dean pressed his mouth to Y/n’s, kissing her forcefully. The dildo was quickly put aside, both needing their hands to touch the other. Dean placed his on Y/n's waist, and her around his neck. Her nails scratched the soft part of his neck, leaving red marks he would never see. It was intense, they almost devoured each other with an insatiable appetite. Opening her lips, Y/n stuck her tongue out barely, just enough to give access to Dean who was quick to push his tongue into her mouth. The kiss became languorous, messy, even, and Y/n backed into a box and almost fell. Dean broke the kiss to ask if she was okay, but she silenced him by replacing her lips on his to continue the kiss.
Their mouths didn't leave each other as clothes flew around the room, some getting stuck on boxes while others fell to the floor. Eventually, they managed to maneuver through the mountains of boxes to get to the bed. Y/n plopped down on the mattress and laughed against Dean’s mouth which only took a second to find its way back to hers. Now both were shirtless and their hands explored each other without stopping.
Finally, Y/n broke the kiss to speak.
“I want you to watch me.”
“What?” Dean was panting, his erection so painful in his pants he was afraid it would explode at the slightest touch. Like a hungry lion demanding its prey, he tried to grab Y/n's lips but she refused him access by placing her fingers between them.
“I want you to watch me use the toy…” If she was an angel a few moments ago, the Y/n he had, lying under him on the bed, half naked, was a little devil hidden under the appearance of a Saint.
Just the thought of seeing her in real life masturbating with the monster he had found made Dean gulp and push himself up so he was on his knees. His face was so red, he had trouble understanding how there could still be blood in his length.
“Are you sure? I mean, I… I can’t say no to that, fuck, but… I don’t want you to feel forced or…”
“Dean,” she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips. “I really want to. And I know you want it too.” Y/n took a deep, slightly shaky breath before continuing. “So… Bring me the one you want me to use… And get comfortable.”
Dean swallowed and looked at his girlfriend's face. Since he had known her, they had never been this far in their intimacy. And he would never have imagined that she had this in her. Obviously he was surprised, but it was a very pleasant surprise. Like an excited child on Christmas morning, Dean rushed to the box of adult toys and once again admired all the choices presented to him. Each of them infused an image, each more erotic than the other, into his mind. For a moment, he hesitated to take the monster he had found shortly before, but decided that for now, this view was better in his mind. And he didn't want to embarrass Y/n even more than she was, what she was proposing was very intimate, very sexy, but also terribly hard to do. To open up like this, to show yourself like this...
Dean returned to his girlfriend, a box in hand. “This one,” he held out the box, knowing full well what it contained. Y/n took it, hesitated for a few seconds while staring at it in her hands. Just as Dean was about to repeat that she didn't have to, that they could continue to just makeout and that was okay, she opened the box and took out the toy.
It was a simple one. No vibration, just a flesh colored dildo with suction at the bottom. It wasn’t the biggest she owned, but it was still big, almost as big as Dean’s cock. So to see her use this, he could easily picture him in her…
Just the thought sent another wave of arousal down his pants.
“Do you need a moment, or lube or…” Dean was still standing up near the bed as she was on her knees on the mattress. For the first time, he was clueless and didn't know what to do. And yet, it was not his first time, nor the last, that he had more kinky moments with his partner. But Y/n was different, she wasn't just his sexual partner, but the woman he loved. And the prospect of getting even closer and more intimate was worth more than any sex he could have.
“I want you to watch the whole thing,” Y/n replied, lifting her ass off the mattress just enough to undo her pants and pull them down along with her panties with just one hand. In an almost expert manner, she finished undressing herself with one hand, her other never letting go of the toy. “You can sit down, you know,” she laughed when she saw Dean still standing where he was, stiff as a stick.
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he sat on the edge of the bed and turned his body towards her. It was like he was back at 15 with the most popular girl in school, ready for his first time. Nervousness filled his entire being, along with excitement, and if he wasn't so experienced years later, his erection would have disappeared or he would have come prematurely in his pants.
Dean silently thanked all the girls he had in the past that strengthened his stamina.
“How do you want me to use it?”
Dean could see how nervous she was. It was the first time she was completely naked in front of him, and her body was shaking ever so slightly, shivers that covered her soft skin in goosebumps. But yet, through that nervousness, she was freaking sexy. Still kneeling, she was slowly stroking her intimacy with the toy, coating it with her wetness. And without asking, Dean knew she wouldn’t need any lube.
“Just… Like this, you can ride it…” The words got out of his mouth by automatism. Truth was, Dean was half there now, so excited and focused on her, a part of his mind was shut down. It was so hot, he couldn’t detach his eyes from her body, the way the toy rubbed through her lower lips, how her hips rocked back on it, and her face, so soft, so cute, so embarrassed… With eyes burning in a strong passion.
“Okay,” she whispered. Time seemed to slow down. Dean could feel his heart beating in his head and in his crotch, the intensity growing with each movement she made. Straightening up, she placed the dildo behind her, careful to align it with her entrance, and opened up her legs to let Dean continue watching.
And he could see it all.
It was better than everything he could ever imagine.
The toy was big, but she was probably very wet and very used to it, because it didn’t take long for her to lower down on it. Inch by inch, the dildo disappeared into her entrance until it was almost completely gone. Her body was bent back, her chest glistening with sweat and the cutest moan left her lips.
“Fuck,” Dean groaned. It was too much, so he rushed to open his pants, just enough to free his aching cock. The simple touch sent thousands of electrical shocks of pleasure through his body, but still, his eyes were fixed on her. “You’re so hot, I don’t think I’ll last long,” he held the base of his cock stronger to avoid his climax.
“I don’t think I’ll last long either,” she whimpered. She had started moving already, slowly, up and down on the toy. Since she was on the bed, the succion was useless and she had to hold it with one hand. Dean could see how wet she was on the dildo, and imagined how warm it had to be inside.
Another groan whistled through his teeth.
“Hmmm,” she moaned, picking up speed. “It feels so good… Dean… Look at me…”
He didn’t notice, but his gaze was so focused on the toy and her pussy, he didn’t even look at her face. Blinking hard, he looked up, and when he saw her face, twisted in pleasure, he couldn’t help it.
His hand started moving on his cock at the same rhythm as her.
“Can’t wait to be inside of you,” Dean muttered through his rashing breath. “Must feel so warm in there, and you’re so wet, fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me.”
As an answer, she moaned and closed her eyes for a second. But quickly, she set her gaze on him again, even if it had to be the most embarrassing thing she ever did. She wanted to watch him watch her, watch him stroke his cock, watch him cum with her. “Soon… I promise, soon, you’ll have me, you’ll fuck me as much as you want, whenever you want… I'm ah... All yours, Dean..."
"Y/n." Dean could only say that. Again and again, moaning her name as she continued moving on the toy. "Y/n..."
"Dean, I’m gonna cum, oh my god, I’m…”
It was stronger than her. Never before did she come with only a dildo in her, it always took her hands or a vibrator on her clit to reach the end. But right now, in front of her boyfriend masturbating with her, it was too much. It felt so good.
In an explosion of pleasure, her orgasm ripped through her in a scream. She closed her eyes, her body shaking, her wetness flooding under her and on her bed. But she so didn’t care about this right now.
It took a few moments for her to regain her hearing back, and a few more moments to open her eyes. It was strong, and she suddenly felt so tired, like the world came crashing back on her. Feeling like she could sleep for a whole day without waking up.
Y/n landed her eyes on the man in front of her. Dean had his head bent back, eyes closed, mouth parted. Lower, his cock was still a bit hard, and his release was covering his hand.
“Oh,” she said sadly, realizing she didn’t see him cum. At least, they came together.
“Oh,” Dean repeated, finally opening his eyes to land them on her. “That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen and done,” he admitted, a silly smile filling up his face. So he was too, drunk on pleasure.
“Yeah,” she admitted, feeling her face flush with embarrassment. Wow. They did it. They actually did it. Her joy, thought, left her face quickly as she realized something. “Fuck.”
“What is it?” Dean immediately went on protective boyfriend mode when he heard the change in her voice.
“I think I…” Y/n’s voice was small, so small and shy as she lifted herself from the spot she was in, removing carefully the dildo from her, and looked at the mess she made. “It never happened before, but now my bed… I don’t think I can use it anymore… Oh no…”
“Sweetheart,” Dean rushed to her side, quickly putting himself back in his pants even if he was messy with his release as well. “It’s alright. There’s plenty of other room in the bunker, with other beds.”
“But,” she stammered, her gaze looking down at her hands. “What if I want to… Use your bed, with you?”
Y/n ended up looking up at him, their gaze meeting.
A soft kiss on her lips answered her question, and all of her insecurities washed away.
“My bed is yours, sweetheart. We can always use this room for your books, I’ll ask Sam to help building shelves and-”
Another kiss, this time, more powerful, interrupted his sentence. “God, I love you so much.”
Babum.
The words he never said back before.
Dean thought they would be hard to say. Impossible, even. But he surprised himself with how easy it actually was.
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
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Just Don't Say You Love Me
Summary: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.
Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending.
W/C: 4,776.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester.
Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.
A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.
Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own.
Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day.
Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”
You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again.
“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him.
“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”
“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.”
“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.
Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.
If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.
“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours.
“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will.
“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”
“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.
You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise?
They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.
“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later.
“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.
Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.
“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”
“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.
Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.”
“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?”
“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.”
“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”
Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”
“But if I can do more…”
“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”
“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I��m part of the problem.”
“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”
“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”
“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”
It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension.
“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.”
He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.
“Good to know,” you say.
You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first.
“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both.
“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”
“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play.
“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.”
“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests.
Dean nods, “lead the way.”
When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.
“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks.
“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.”
He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.”
“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”
“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”
“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh.
“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.”
You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.
“That hurt?” he asks.
“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.
“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.
“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”
He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.”
The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.
“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.
“Anytime,” you smile.
You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.
He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”
Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial.
He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.
Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.
If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s.
You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.
You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.
“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.
You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.
He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him.
Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone.
“Hey, hi,” you answer.
“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?”
“Yeah, sure, okay.”
“You okay?”
No. Yes.
Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.”
“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.
“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.
“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine.
He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”
You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.”
He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.”
“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.”
Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”
Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”
“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”
“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.”
He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.”
“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”
He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”
“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?”
He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.
He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”
He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better.
Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.
The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair.
Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.
You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”
His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.”
“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”
“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.”
“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.
“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.
You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes.
“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard.
You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.”
“They seem like a good bunch.”
“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”
His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”
You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.
Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.
It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.
He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door.
“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“
“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”
He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”
You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”
“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.
Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”
The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.
Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you.
The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.
It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.
Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them.
The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.
He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.
You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you.
It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.
He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction.
Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls.
“Hey,” you greet brightly.
The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.”
“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”
He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?”
“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”
“I can wait.”
“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer.
He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.
“Okay, got it,” You laugh.
Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.
He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?”
“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own.
Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you.
“Maybe we should take this inside.”
“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.
He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.
“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.
“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you.
“How’s Sam?”
“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.”
“Good for them.”
You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards.
He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.
It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong.
You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”
He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.
You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you.
He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…”
“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.
“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”
You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.”
He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly.
“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”
Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away.
He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again.
“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”
He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return.
Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”
He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop.
He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.
“Dean, please,” you call from the door.
He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.
Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.
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/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
#jacklesversebingo23#dean winchester#spn#supernatural#dean winchester x reader#reader insert#female reader#dean winchester angst#spn fanfic#angst#spn fanfiction#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fandom#dean winchester x you#you x dean winchester
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Impatient
Square/s filled: Orgasm denial @jacklesversebingo | FREE @spnkinkevents
Pairing: Jensen x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 2,080
Summary: Jensen and Y/N attend an industry event, but her impatience to have her way with him leads to him making sure she knows he's still in charge.
Warnings: Swearing, smut: dirty talk, D/s dynamics, daddy kink, vaginal fingering, gags, hair pulling, against the wall, slight degradation, use of 'slut', unprotected sex (wrap it up people), semi-public sex, rough sex, orgasm denial, creampie, fluff.
A/N: A recent group chat about Dom!Jensen has resulted in this. So, happy reading! ;) beta'd by my loves @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean
Jensen picked up a champagne flute as a waiter passed by him, handing it over to Y/N as his arm slipped around her waist and pulled her close. He sipped the whiskey in his other hand as they both looked over the crowd around them, hoping to find some of their friends or even acquaintances at the party. Industry events usually went on for hours, so they had plenty of time to mingle with others later, both of them more than okay with each other for company at that moment. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, showing his appreciation for her shape in the royal blue, strapless dress. He slowly and subtly moved the hand on her waist over her hip, down to the curve of her ass and back to her waist, making her bite the inside of her lip to keep from smiling too much.
“I’m really regretting being here,” he husked close to her ear. “Especially with the way you look in this dress.”
Her eyes flicked over the light gray suit he was wearing, her fingers softly flicking the edge of his blue and white pocket square. “I can say the same for you and this suit.”
“Oh, is it doing somethin’ for ya?” he smirked.
“Definitely,” she whispered against his lips, kissing him slowly, suggestively. She needed him desperately and she hoped that they could sneak away somewhere.
Unfortunately for them, someone he had worked on a project with years ago came over to him, both of them catching up. He introduced her and she smiled politely, nodding along with the conversation and laughing at the appropriate times but she wanted this guy to leave as soon as possible, so she could drag her boyfriend into the nearest bathroom. As she watched them, she slowly shifted the side of her upper thigh against his crotch, pressing her lips together in amusement as his hand dug into her hip as a warning. She was in a mood to challenge him, though. She repeated the movement, causing him to glance at her from the corner of his eye as he pulled away from her, slightly.
Jensen and his friend said their goodbyes with promises to catch up, before she said it was nice to meet him and watched him leave. She turned and looked up at Jensen, seeing his eyebrows raised at her.
“What the fuck was that?” he asked, moving closer to her so no one heard them.
“Nothing,” she shrugged, an innocent smile on her face.
She pushed herself into him, her hip rubbing against him once more and making her grin as she felt him twitch under his dress pants. He glared down at her as he wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close enough so that their faces were an inch apart.
“Do that again and you know how this ends, darlin’,” he warned.
She felt her inner walls clench around nothing at his words, a thrill running through her as their gazes locked. His intense glare was taunting her, a silent threat for her to try her luck again and to see what happened. She pressed herself against him, her thigh brushing against his crotch once more, and that was it. He reached for the champagne in her hand and took it, placing that and his whiskey tumbler on the nearest table before he curled his hand around her wrist, leading her out of the huge ballroom where the event was being held. He spotted one of the restrooms at the end of the hallway, the exhilaration building inside her with each step they took towards it.
Jensen opened the door, checking that no one was inside as he turned back and locked it behind her. He pulled Y/N into his arms as they embraced each other, kissing fervently as his hands slid down her back to her waist. She clung to the lapels of his suit as their lips fused together sensually, her touch becoming frenzied as started to pull at his tie with one hand, and open the buttons of his shirt with the other. He grabbed her wrists and pulled her off, walking forward and pressing her up against the tiled wall. She moaned against his lips as she tried to free her hands, desperate to get him out of as many of his clothes as she could. She tried to reach for his belt, causing him to trap her arms once more as he pulled away from the kiss.
“So impatient. You know better than that, Y/N,” he stated, his voice deep and husky as he stared into her eyes. He kept his gaze on her as he reached down and pulled up the hem of her knee-length dress around her waist. “Spread your legs.”
She did as she was told, gulping as she felt his finger pull her black panties to the side. He leaned in close, his lips hovering over hers as he ran his digits through her folds, feeling how wet she was no doubt from the moment she started teasing him. He spread the arousal over her, moving his fingers up to her clit, circling it slowly. She gasped as she shifted her hips closer to him, making him chuckle.
“So fucking desperate,” he muttered, pecking her lips. “You gotta be good if you want my cock, sweetheart. Especially if you want it where my fingers are.”
Along with his words, he pushed two of his thick fingers into her tight heat, her mouth falling open and letting out a loud moan, her hands gripping his covered shoulders, tightly. He thrust them in and out of her, slowly in order to keep her on edge as his thumb flicked over her swollen nub. As he continued his ministrations, short whimpers escaped her, but they increased in volume and he knew he needed a way to keep her quiet. He didn’t want anyone from this event walking in on them, but there was no way he was stopping, either. He pulled his fingers out of her, ignoring the whine that left her as he turned her around to face the wall. Her hands pressed against the tiles as he pulled the pocket square out, holding it to her lips.
“Open up, darlin’,” he ordered, smirking as he shoved it in just as she gasped. “You gotta stay quiet if daddy’s gonna fuck you with people right outside that door.”
She let out a muffled whimper, feeling his hands glide over the smooth skin of her ass as he pulled her hips a little closer. She heard the sound of his zip coming down, her heart beating faster in her chest as the head of his cock nudged against her folds. He took a hold of his thick shaft, his darkened gaze shifting over her as he watched the way she took all of him as he slid into her tight heat. He relished the feeling for only a second, knowing they didn’t have much time before someone came knocking, grinning when he heard a stifled moan leave her. He pulled out completely before he thrusted into her again, continuing in a steady rhythm as he moved deep inside her. He groaned, biting down on his bottom lip to keep himself quiet, too, but he couldn’t help it when she was clenching around him so perfectly.
“Your pussy’s so fucking tight… she’s taking my cock so well, baby girl,” he husked, his hands gripping the flesh of her hips tighter.
Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut, moaning loudly around the gag as his hips smacked against her, his cock pounding deep into her and pressing against that spot only he had ever managed to. He chuckled, the sound almost sinister as he leaned into her, his chest right against her back. One of his hands left her hips and moved into her hair, tugging at the roots roughly, causing another shriek of pleasure to come from her, muffled by the pocket square.
Jensen laughed again, keeping his lips close to her ear as his voice became low and gravelly, “Just don’t know how to stay quiet, huh? You really want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me, don’t ya, sweetheart?”
His hips began to increase the pace he had set, slamming harder, faster within her as he chased that sweet release he craved but he had other plans for her. Her breathing was harsh, every short inhale and exhale through her nose burning her lungs as she tried to keep her hands steady on the wall. She was on the edge, her walls clenching around his length with every thrust, ready to hit that peak along with him at any moment.
“Shit, you’re close. Can feel the way you’re squeezing around my cock. Do you think you deserve to cum after what you did?” he asked, his breath fanning against the shell of her ear. “Rubbing against me like that in a room full of people.”
The only response she could really give him in her current state was a pathetic nod, causing him to huff a small chuckle.
“Ah, see. I don’t think so, darlin’. I think only daddy gets to cum right now and then I take you home… and spank this ass raw for thinking you could pull that little stunt.”
Y/N’s eyes widened as she mewled in protest, trying to glance back at him but his firm grip around the strands of her hair kept her from turning.
“You can whine all you want. You don’t cum until I let you. Is that clear?” he whispered, nipping at her lobe.
Her shoulders slumped as she nodded again.
He kissed behind her ear, nuzzling his nose against the same spot. “Good girl. Fuck, you’re so perfect… gonna fill your tight little pussy up nice and deep.”
Jensen grabbed her waist, holding her still as his shaft pushed deeper into her. He groaned as he felt her walls tighten around him, causing him to fuck her harder when he felt himself throb inside her. With one last thrust, his neck strained back with a low grunt, the sound rumbling in his chest just as his cock pulsed, spurts of his cum coating her walls. Y/N moaned at the feeling, wishing that she could’ve reached that euphoric end with him, but the warmth of seed would have to satisfy her until they got home. He slowly pulled out of her, allowing her to rest her hands on the wall for support as her legs shook. He cleaned himself up before he pushed his cock back in, zipping up his pants. He moved over to her, taking the pocket square from her mouth and folding it again, hiding the lipstick stains on the fabric as he tucked it into the front pocket of his suit.
He leaned over her, kissing the side of her neck as he reached between her legs, pulling her panties back into place. She turned gently, breathing heavily as they looked at each other. She smiled softly, a soft moan escaping her as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, feeling his cum inside her.
“You okay?” he asked, gently cupping her face in his hand.
“Yeah,” she replied, leaning in and kissing him passionately.
“Good,” he muttered when he pulled away, pulling her dress down for her as their eyes met. “Now you’re gonna be patient with that load inside you, while I talk to a few more people before we leave.”
She almost let out a sigh of protest but his intense gaze stopped her. He grinned as he leaned in, his plump lips brushing against hers as their eyes remained locked on each other.
“Don’t you worry, darlin’,” he started, his voice dropping to that deep timbre once more. “I promise I’ll stick to my word.”
Y/N bit her lip as she dropped her gaze, the anticipation of what he told her he was going to do to her making her core tighten once more. She washed her hands, reapplied her lipstick and then wrapped her fingers around his as he led her out of the bathroom. It wasn’t too long before they left the event, both of them far too impatient not to continue what they had started.
And he definitely stuck to his word as soon as they got home.
#jacklesversebingo23#spnkinkevents#Jensen x Female!Reader#Jensen x Female!Reader Smut#Jensen x Female!Reader One Shot#Jensen x Female!Reader Fanfiction#Jensen Ackles Smut#Jensen Ackles One Shot#Jensen Ackles Fanfiction#Supernatural RPF#Supernatural Fanfiction
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Off and On Again
This fic will cover my "Do I have to take it off again?" square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt will be in bold.❤️
Summary: When Y/N wants to hang on to Jensen's shirt he has a very interesting way of getting it back.
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut. All smut. Sexy af Jensen. Rockstar!Jensen. Definitely a warning. Slightly rough, unprotected PinV Sex. Oral (f. receiving.) Vaginal fingering. Slight orgasm denial (very light) and edging (sort of).
Pairings: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 1,619
A/N: Here is the next request for my second @jacklesversebingo card. This one is a slight AU - Rockstar!Jensen. It came from a sort of request from @envyaurora95 who shared this pic with me. So, I stole this prompt to fulfill that sort of request. 😊 I'm sorry that this didn't turn out exactly as we'd talked about. Hope you enjoy it anyway, my dear. ❤️
A/N 2: As always, this is a different version of Jensen from within the Multiverse who is single. Absolute and complete fiction, of course.
The beautiful dividers used here are from @talesmaniac89
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open and she looked around the room, disoriented for a moment.
It was a hotel room.
Was it morning or…?
Reality came floating back into her brain slowly and she realized the clock on the nightstand read 8:04 PM. It was evening. Then Jensen walked slowly out of the bathroom, a towel slung around his hips, and she remembered everything. They’d met in the bar the night before, and he’d picked her up with barely more than a smile.
They’d come back to his room and he’d spent all night making her fall apart over and over - he’d been insatiable and Y/N had woken up in the morning with aching muscles and a desperate need for even more of him. She’d convinced him to ditch the interviews he was set to do that afternoon, and they’d barely left the bedroom all day. She’d fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion a few hours earlier.
Jensen noticed her waking now and smiled at her from the foot of the bed. “Good evening, beautiful.”
It was beyond ridiculous to feel shy after everything they’d done together, but she blushed anyway. She had a feeling that there was something in his smile that would always make her blush.
“I was gonna wake you soon.” Jensen continued as he dropped his towel and stepped into a pair of dark blue boxer briefs. Y/N tried not to stare as he tucked himself away in the snug underwear. But fucking hell that man was…very...naturally blessed.
He spoke again as he slid on a pair of black jeans. “I’ve gotta get to sound check. But I hope you’ll come to the show tonight.” He thumbed towards the desk behind him. “I left you a ticket. Backstage pass.” He said with a wink.
Y/N nodded excitedly. “Yes, I’d love to come.”
His smile was soft. “Good.”
Y/N bit her lip and grabbed Jensen’s long-sleeved, black, denim shirt that sat at the end of the bed, pulling it on as she pointed towards the bathroom. “Gotta use the little girl’s room.” She said as she darted away.
When she came out a few minutes later, Jensen was fully dressed in his jeans and a gray t-shirt; he wore a watch on one hand and a couple of metal and beaded bracelets on the other, and a chain around his neck. His long hair was still slightly damp as he pushed it back off his forehead.
He was the sexiest thing Y/N had ever seen.
His smile was slow and sensual as he lifted a hand towards the shirt Y/N wore. “Gonna need that back now, sweetheart.”
Y/N arched a mischievous brow. “And what if I don’t give it back? Gonna make me?”
Jensen’s gaze became incredibly heated as he stared at her, slowly approaching her and forcing her to step backwards till she hit the wall.
“No, I won’t make you," he said silkily, "but if you don’t give it up, you’ll be sorry.” He said the last bit in a sing-song voice that made her giggle with anticipation while a shiver ran through her.
“Really?” Y/N questioned cheekily. “And why is that?”
Instead of answering Jensen pushed the sides of the shirt open, sliding his hands up over her ribcage to cup her breasts in both hands. He gently rolled her nipples between his thumb and forefinger and Y/N gasped. They were extra sensitive after so many hours of Jensen’s mouth sucking and biting at them.
He dropped his head to her left breast and licked the aching, slightly chafed bud, his warm tongue soothing and exhilarating at the same time. He let go of her right breast so he could slip one finger between her wet folds to circle her clit, making her moan and thump her head back against the wall.
He sucked more purple marks into the soft skin of her breasts as he slid his thick middle finger into her body, making her cry out.
“Unf! Jensen, oh fuck, fuck!” She shouted as he pressed against her sweet spot.
He lowered himself to his knees and bent his head, dipping his tongue into her slick and finding and teasing her clit, flicking the tip back and forth against her. She bit into her lip, desperately trying not to scream out her need and brushing back the soft hair that fell across his forehead as he pleasured her.
She was on the brink, ready to topple over, all she needed was for Jensen to press against that sweet spot one more time. She was gasping and panting as she begged him to end her exquisite torment.
But suddenly he pulled back from her and licked his wet, swollen lips as he stared up at her, slick glistening on his beard and mustache.
“Told you you’d be sorry, beautiful. Now give me my shirt back like a good girl, and when the show’s over, I promise I’ll let you finish.”
Y/N whimpered as Jensen stood up and wiped his hand over his mouth. He pushed the shirt from her shoulders and leaned down to speak low, breathing against the shell of her ear.
“It’s gonna make me hard as hell onstage tonight, to know you’re watching in the wings, all wet and aching for me. Promise you won’t touch yourself? Wait for me.” He insisted and Y/N nodded, even though she pulsed with need.
“Good girl.” He praised as he shrugged into the shirt. He kissed her briefly and smiled against her lips. “See you after the show.”
***
The concert had been torture for Y/N. Watching Jensen onstage was like an hour and half of foreplay. Every note he sang and every move he made, shot fire straight to her core, making her muscles clench and ache from emptiness. She was so desperate to feel him move inside her again that there were moments she honestly thought she might come just from standing in the wings and watching him.
Finally the show ended and Y/N clapped and screamed with the rest of the fans as Jensen left the stage. Backstage was filled with clusters of people, managers, and backstage staff, VIPs and groupies, media personnel covering the tour; they all crowded into the limited space.
Jensen came through, with two big bodyguards on either side of him, pushing aside the groupies and media as Jensen smiled at them all and gave them a wave. But as he passed Y/N he grabbed her hand and yanked her along with him and she dashed a bit to keep up with his long stride. Finally he broke free of everyone and stepped through a nondescript black door. He pulled Y/N through it quickly and she was just barely able to recognize that it was a dressing room before Jensen slammed the door shut and spun her around to press her against it.
He shoved up the short corduroy skirt she wore as he tugged her hips out towards him. He dug his fingers into her hips as he bent across her body and panted onto her shoulder.
“I need to fuck you. Now. Say yes.”
“Fuck yes!” Y/N groaned. Jensen just pushed her panties aside so he could slam into her drenched cunt without hesitation.
“Ah fuck!” Jensen growled against her as he bit into the skin exposed by her off-the-shoulder sweater.
Y/N pressed her forehead against the door and tried not to scream as Jensen slammed himself home again, angling his hips so his cockhead perfectly hit her sweet spot. But when he pulled out and did it again, Y/N couldn’t hold back, as the hours of denial and edging finally erupted in a seemingly endless climax.
As Y/N squeezed around him over and over, Jensen’s rhythm faltered and he thrust deep and hard one last time before shouting out his own pleasure and spilling into her, hot and thick.
Y/N knew they could likely be heard throughout the entire backstage area. But as Jensen slipped his hand around her hip to tap and rub at her clit, bringing on yet another mind-blowing orgasm as he finished, she couldn’t manage to make herself care.
***
The next morning Y/N was simply incapable of moving for a solid hour after she woke up. So, Jensen just ordered them room service and they ate in bed, sharing some more of their lives with each other and laughing and joking together.
After a couple of hours of lounging and enjoying each other's company, Jensen had some phone calls he had to make and Y/N finally left the bed to go shower. The water felt heavenly and she was refreshed and far less exhausted when she stepped out.
As she toweled herself off she noticed Jensen’s black, denim shirt hanging on a hook on the back of the door. With a smile, she slipped it on and did up a few buttons before walking back into the room. Jensen was just hanging up his phone and he looked up as she emerged. His eyes darkened and he lifted his phone, waving it slightly.
“That was my manager. I need to go downstairs and make up for all those interviews I skipped yesterday.”
Y/N pouted slightly but nodded, unbuttoning one of the buttons on his shirt. “Do I have to take it off again?”
Jensen stood up and stalked towards her. “Fuck no, I’ll do it.”
He yanked the shirt open, ripping off a couple buttons. He kissed her deeply, and then pulled her forward to fall on top of him on the bed. “My manager’s gonna be pissed, but hey,” He shrugged and grinned wickedly, “it'll be worth it.”
1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.
@lyarr24
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2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only.
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3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.)
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4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well)
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Try It On
A Supernaturally Adorable Story
~Y/N and Dean like to spend their days off fooling around in the Bunker, and one particularly foolish day, they stumble into a room, and some items, she's never seen before...~
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
3,850 Words
Warnings: It's... Fluffy, Banter-y, Cute, Sexy, Kissy, Fun
A/N: This is for my free space for @jacklesversebingo ! And... special thanks to @deanwinchesterswitch for helping make the awesome art and showing me how to be better at that in general :)
Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works
The thing you have to understand about the Men of Letters Bunker in Lebanon is that- it’s huge. Well, huge isn’t really the right word. It would be more accurate to describe it as massive- and deceptively so. Not only does it reach down two stories into the earth, but it’s also full of twists and turns and magic. Hallways seem to stretch on forever, lined with horizontal black tiles that trick the eye into believing there’s a dead-end where instead there’s a turn. There are forks in the road that elicit directional anxiety, staircases that lead nowhere, and hidden doorways that if taken, can lead to a random spot in the Bunker that seemed accessible only from the outside.
Once, Y/N had slipped through a small door in the Mechanical Room that she thought was a closet, only to end up standing behind the giant telescope in the Library.
Door numbers played games with her, multiplying and changing. Rooms appeared and disappeared, moved seemingly by magic, or perhaps only in her mind. It was impossible to navigate too far from the main areas without a map, or at the very least, her cell in hand should she accidentally get stuck somewhere new.
As far as Sam knew, there was only one map of the Bunker - the original blueprints to be exact - and the more he studied it, the more he realized that most of the underground lair was not included in the plans.
Life in the Bunker was nice. The cavernous rooms seemed to echo the quiet in a comforting way and although it was usually a little chilly, it was nice to be able to snuggle up in a big sweater or cuddle down in a blanket while reading in the Library. It was easy to find yourself with alone time, and even easier to sneak around in the shadows, finding fun ways to keep occupied while the monsters plotted beyond the big doors.
Those fun ways generally involved some kind of chase between Y/N and Dean which usually, if not always, ended with a trail of flannel leading into either’s bedroom. ‘Sex Tag’, Dean had dubbed it, though Y/N liked to pretend they were a tad less obvious and called it simply, ‘Hide and Seek’.
Last Thursday, one such game was in play. Y/N was the aggressor this time, quickly stalking Dean through the tunnels, her socked feet silent yet slippery on the highly polished tile floor. She raced around corners with a hand on the wall for stability and still almost always wiped out. Around such a turn, she caught a break as Dean, obviously somewhere nearby, let out a breathy laugh.
She spun to her left and spotted him halfway down the right hallway, leaning casually against the tiles. His bare ankles were crossed and off to the side, his arms were folded across his chest, navy Henley stretching sinfully over his biceps. His chin was low and he looked up with a devilish smirk, letting her know that despite having given away his location, he had no intention of letting her catch him yet.
“Caught you,” she announced, taking a short step towards him. She set her hands on her hips and stared him down.
Dean licked his lips and bit back a smile, forcing the tiny dimples above his mouth to pop. “Uh, you ain’t caught me yet…”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You really gonna make me come all the way over there?”
In one slick motion, Dean pushed himself away from the wall and dragged a hand back through his short hair. He peered over at her, green eyes dark with temptation. “Only if you wanna win.”
Y/N clicked her tongue, daring him to move. “I found you- that’s usually enough to garner a win.”
He turned to face her full on, bowed legs spread shoulder-width apart. He let his arms hang down as if he were at ease, but she knew he was ready to bolt.
“Usually,” he agreed.
“But not today?”
He sucked his teeth and shook his head slowly. “Not today.”
Y/N took a step toward him. “No?”
Long fingers tensed against worn denim. “No. Today it’s a tag or nothing.”
She took another step and Dean’s jaw twitched.
“So, if I grab your ass,” she asked, “I win?”
Plump lips curled on one side. “If you can catch me, sure.”
She took a deep breath.
He mirrored.
She held in the air and took a step.
He lingered, daring, teasing.
On her exhale, Y/N pushed off on her right foot and broke into a run, her arms pumping, thighs straining to pick up speed while simultaneously fighting to stay upright on the slippery ground.
Dean waited exactly seven seconds before retreating. He spun on the spot; the balls of his bare feet squeaking gently on the tiles as he took off. The first few yards he dashed at full speed, just to put some space between himself and the huntress, but after a peek over his shoulder, he slowed, shifting into first gear. It wasn’t a Sex Tag if she didn’t eventually catch him, after all.
Y/N’s heart was pounding, skin heating up, muscles thrumming with adrenaline. Once close enough to smell the lingering aftershave on his neck, she reached out and grabbed blindly for him, catching the collar of his shirt and tugging hard.
Dean gasped at the sudden pull and his arms shot out at his sides, balancing even as Y/N jerked him backwards. She slipped as they both came to a screeching halt, and Dean caught her just before she hit the floor, surely saving her from a bruise or two.
Out of breath and victorious, Y/N straightened up and pushed at his chest, slamming him back into the wall. “Gotcha!”
He lifted his chin above her forearm and made a play of being pinned even though they both knew he could slip away without much effort.
“Still haven’t won yet,” he informed her.
Y/N huffed and reached an arm around him, grabbing his left ass cheek hard.
Dean held in a yelp.
“How ‘bout now?”
He grinned, drew his bottom lip in between his front teeth. “I fold.”
“Thought you might.”
To seal the deal, Y/N pushed up on her toes and kissed him hard. The arm barring his chest dropped and Dean wrapped his arms around her, tugging her closer and spinning so she was against the wall.
His tongue slid across her lips and her hands slipped down his chest. He bucked his hips against her and she moaned through the kiss. Her fingers bunched up around his stomach, grabbing at the navy fabric, wanting him closer.
He shivered and trailed his lips across her cheek, dropped a kiss by her ear, let out a heavy breath that prickled her skin.
“Want you,” he growled, rocking into her once more. “Now.”
Delicate fingers tucked up beneath his shirt and scraped down his belly. Y/N drew a finger across his hip bone and looked up at him, teeth snagged, eyes glazed beneath batting lashes.
“Right here.”
It wasn’t a question.
Dean pushed himself up, set his hand on the wall beside her, stared down with a shy grin. “Yeah?”
She hooked her fingers in his belt loops and tugged. “Yeah. Right here.”
Green eyes went wide and freckled cheeks blushed. Hesitantly, he dropped his right hand to her breast and felt for her nipple through the layers of fabric.
Y/N arched her back against the wall, pushing her chest out and moaning loudly.
The echo scared him and Dean looked cautiously over his shoulders.
“What? Afraid your brother’s lurking?” she teased.
He huffed out a sarcastic laugh but looked back again, certain they’d be caught. “Yeah… OK, maybe a little.”
Y/N held his gaze and snapped her fingers over his jeans, popping the brass button open. He hissed as her hand snuck down inside; the zipper easing open to give her more room.
“Someday,” she whispered, drawing his attention closer as she traced his quickly stiffening cock with her thumb. “I’ll get you to indulge my public sex fantasy…”
His eyes went wide when she cupped his dick in her warm hand. “Fuck!”
Quickly but reluctantly, he pulled her hand away and reached for the doorknob on her left. The lock was in place and he issued an annoyed huff.
Y/N watched as he fumbled with the door across the way - also locked - and then cleared her throat.
“We can just go back to my place,” she offered. “Though, I’m not quite sure how to get back there…”
Dean was already on the next door. “No, no. We’re gonna… just… find a spot to hide in… and- yes!” The fourth door he tried opened and he waved Y/N over.
She followed through the portal and nearly stumbled into him as the darkness devoured them both.
Just a bit scared, Y/N spun around as Dean shut the door. “A little light would be nice!”
“Workin’ on it!”
She took a step backward and hit an unexpectedly soft barrier. She turned, feeling with cautious hands, a wall of hanging fabrics. Confused, she reached higher and felt a metal rod and plastic hangers.
“Is this…”
Dean found his way to the switch and two hanging lights flipped on.
“... a closet-” Y/N’s excitement grew when her eyes adjusted. “What… on earth…”
Dean hummed curiously. “Oh shit. I didn’t realize we were over here.”
Y/N took a look around. “Where exactly is here?”
“South of the kitchen,” he replied. “Or east. I can’t remember.”
She was awed.
It was a bedroom, or at least, used to be. The layout was familiar. The standard full bed with its ugly green blanket was there, as was the writing desk and the random sink against the front wall. Everything was the same except for the massive collection of costumes. The perimeter was lined with bulging clothing racks and boxes filled with shoes. Hats of all varieties hung on nails hammered into the plaster walls and ties in just about every shade of blue and red were neatly displayed on a hanging rack by the door.
With an amused smile growing on her lips, Y/N ran her hands over the shirts on the left side of the room and plucked a brightly colored Hawiian shirt from the rack. She turned, holding it up for Dean to see.
“This yours?” She held in a laugh.
He clicked his tongue and grabbed at the hanger, pulling it away. “Hey. I like this shirt.”
“It’s… loud.”
He glared. “It’s a disguise, OK?” Carefully, he put the flowered button-down back in its place. “They all are.”
“Not a very subtle one,” she joked, shaking her head as she flipped through the rack. “Oh my…”
Next, she pulled free a leather jacket and caressed it gently. “Now this- I like this.”
Dean rolled his eyes as she shrugged on the quilted leather. “Of course you do. Chicks dig guys in leather.”
Y/N fit her arms into the long sleeves and popped the collar up around her neck. “Whatcha think?” She posed for him and Dean stood back, checking her out.
“Very hot. You got a real… Rizzo vibe goin’ on.”
She tongued her cheek and popped a hip his way. “Yeah? You gonna mark me up, Kenickie?”
Dean whistled and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “You better believe it…”
Y/N chewed her lip and took a step, ready to attack him. Before she could get the momentum, a dirty mustard-colored sleeve grabbed her attention and she shifted course.
“Is that?” She tugged the costume from the rack and held it up to look it over. “When were you a fireman?”
Dean sighed. “I don’t know- years ago.”
“And you kept the outfit?”
He shrugged. “Yeah… I guess.”
She narrowed her eyes curiously and leaned in, taking a sniff of the coat. It was musty but unburned. “Why?”
Something stirred inside and Dean felt suddenly like he had to defend himself from her scrutiny, but at the same time, he couldn’t figure out why. His answer came out in a stumble of letters that tried to climb over and inside each other.
“It’s not- don’t- you just- who- I don’t know!” In a snit, he grabbed the suit and shoved it back in its place. “Do you have to touch everything?”
Y/N held her amusement inside. “Yes. Yes I do.”
Twirling around him, she jumped up and tipped a tan Stetson from its hook. It fell onto his head easily and Y/N nodded in approval.
“Awesome.”
Dean inhaled deeply, pushing down his annoyance even as his cheeks burned. “Yeah, yeah… go on. Make fun of me.”
“Oh, I will never make fun of Cowboy Dean.”
He looked up at her from under the brim and she winked, soothing his hurt.
Feeling guilty, Y/N sashayed up to him and lifted his chin with two fingers. “I think it’s cool that you kept all this.”
His brows creased. “Yeah?”
She smiled. “Absolutely. Even cooler that you got to wear it all. I’ve only ever gone undercover as a Fed. This is…” She paused and looked around the room. Lab coats and police uniforms and bright orange construction vest looked back at her. “This is cool.”
Dean softened and fit his arm around her waist, hand flat on the small of her back. “You were a doctor once, if I remember…”
“A lab tech,” she corrected, lightly jabbing a finger into his chest.
He nodded. “Ah, right. I remember you in that white coat… and that tiny skirt that barely covered your-”
“Hey!”
She slapped him and he lunged for her, stealing her breath with a deep kiss. Wrapping her fingers around the open collar of his shirt, Y/N tugged him closer, licked into his mouth, hummed at the sugary taste of him. A late breakfast of black coffee and a powdered donut lingered on his tongue.
His eyes were closed when she pulled back, his pouty lips puckered and searching for more. She laughed.
“Know what’d be super hot?” she whispered, walking her fingers up to loop around the nape of his neck.
Dean set his hands on her hips, thumbs cutting circles in the soft flesh beneath her shirt. “What’s that?”
She spun away again and waltzed to the other side of the room, plucking a disguise from the rack at random. Without looking, she tossed it at Dean who caught it before the hanger poked his eye out.
“Wear it for me,” she said, desire dripping from her lips.
“You’re crazy,” he laughed.
Y/N pouted and fluttered her eyes at him. “Come on, Dean… try it on.”
Intrigued, he examined the outfit she’d chosen. It was the pale blue shirt and dark slacks of a navy uniform, complete with white Dixie Cup hat.
“You’re serious.”
She nodded. “I am.”
He fiddled with the buttons. “Yeah… I’m not doin’ that.”
“Come on, baby… put on a show for me…”
He felt a twinge in his gut and blood rushed to his cock. He sighed dramatically. “Fine. Have a seat…”
Stetson returned safely to its hook, Dean rearranged the rack by the door so he could hide behind it as he changed. The move wasn’t out of modesty, as there wasn’t much privacy left between them, but purely for the game.
Y/N appreciated the little touch and set herself up on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently for the show to begin. From the corner of her eye, she spied a cardboard box on the floor with a glinting bit of chrome inside.
The chrome trimmed out the edges of an old yet professional looking camera and Y/N held in a delighted laugh. Stealing it, she set herself up in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, fingers learning the buttons. By the time Dean was ready, so was she.
Dean cleared his throat and lifted his voice up over the dividing rack. “Are you ready for the ride of your life?”
Y/N bit her lip and closed one eye, looking through the lens finder with the other. “Ready, Commander!”
With much dramatic flare, Dean whipped around the rack and appeared in all his naval glory. Gone was his soft Henley and loose, old jeans, replaced by the tight slacks and tucked-in button down shirt. The cap sat tilted on his skull and his eyes bright; playful yet shy.
“Actually, Miss,” he corrected, “that’s Ensign Winchester.”
“You demoted yourself,” she laughed. “Fun.”
Before he could snap back with something clever, a snap disturbed him.
So engrossed in his own costume, Dean hadn’t noticed the long, black camera lens pointed at him.
She snapped a quick shot, then another.
“Perfect…” Two more in quick succession. “Give us a twirl, will ya?”
Shocked and embarrassed, Dean struggled to cover himself by grabbing a gray phone operator’s jumpsuit from the rack.
Y/N whistled. “Oh, yes! That one next!”
Dean scoffed. “In your dreams.” He heard another click of the camera and ripped the cap from his head. “Quit it, will ya?”
“Nope. This is great stuff. Very sexy.”
He groaned. “I hate you so much right now.”
Pouting, she dropped the camera onto the bed and leaned back on her arms, hands barely sinking into the ancient mattress. “Oh, come on…”
Looking up, he found her playfully sad and couldn’t resist the puckered frown of her pretty lips or the fake tears brewing in her beautiful eyes.
He sighed heavily and let the jumpsuit fall to the floor in a heap of cheap polyester. “Fine.”
Arms out, he took a step into the middle of the room and did a quick spin, showing off how tightly the pants hugged his cute little ass.
Y/N grinned and held in a hungry moan. “That’s it, Ensign. Back that thang up.”
Rolling his eyes, he gave her a little shake and then walked away, returning to his sanctuary behind the rack.
“What’s next?” she asked, retrieving the camera and fiddling with the settings.
“Nothing.”
“You’re no fun…”
He was glad the clothing was hiding his smile. Of course he was going to model for her. He’d do just about anything she asked, apparently including, playing dress up on a random Thursday afternoon.
He cleared the smile from his throat and turned up the gruff. “Hold your horses!”
Y/N hid a laugh. “Oh, is there a full cowboy outfit I should know about?”
Dean clicked his tongue. “There is. But dream on.”
“I sure will…”
Fabric rustled and the rack shook a little.
Y/N toyed with the zoom. “Where’s this camera from, anyway? There’s still film in it.”
“Sam sometimes pulls that out when we do the journalist cover. I think he just likes playing with big, long things.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, probably. Though, I don’t think he needs to compensate for anything.”
Startled, Dean’s head popped up over the rack and he glared at her.
“Nevermind…” She batted her lashes and away his concern.
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Show me something sexy,” she urged, wiggling on the bed to get comfortable.
“Sexy, huh?” He adjusted his sleeves and took a breath. “How’s this for sexy?”
Around the corner came Mr. Winchester in a dark brown uniform with matching pants and shirt, black belt and a shiny badge over his heart.
She was confused. “UPS driver?”
He scoffed and smoothed out the shirt. “Park Ranger!” Turning, he showed off the patch on his right shoulder. “Love this one. I look good in brown.”
Y/N snapped a few pictures but ultimately vetoed the outfit. “No one looks good in head-to-toe brown.”
Dean scowled and slunk off to change yet again.
Next, a white bit of plastic was fit around his throat and his hair was quickly parted on the side, raked through by thick fingers. The black clerics of a priest were intriguing, but Y/N felt funny kissing a holy man, so she quickly pushed Father Dean away.
A set of green surgeon scrubs were documented but waved away, as were two ill-fitting lab coats of varying lengths, although Y/N thought to sneak a stethoscope away for later.
When Dean revealed what he thought would seal the deal, he was met with nothing but such roaring laughter as to give Y/N a coughing fit.
“What? My legs are sexy!”
Y/N tried to calm herself, but the sight of Dean in tiny red gym shorts and sweat bands around his forehead and wrists was simply too much for her to take.
“When- what- where-” She nearly choked and fell back against the mattress, shielding her gaze from the costume.
With a devastated sigh, Dean turned and ripped the white polo from his back. “Ya know, I was a damned good gym teacher that week!”
“Flag on the play, babe,” she wheezed.
“Fine!” Defeated, he threw his hands up and shrugged. “I don’t know what you want.”
Y/N took a calming breath and scooted to the foot of the bed. “I don’t know…”
“Then I can’t give it to you!”
“Hey! Don’t yell at me. We’re just fooling around.”
He hissed. “I wanna be fooling around, that’s the point.”
“Well, then show me something I can’t resist,” she encouraged. “Find me that one outfit that turns my gears so tight they’ll snap.”
“That’s… not how gears work…”
Eyes rolled hard; teeth were sucked. “Just… you know what I mean.”
“Fine.”
Hangers were shifted about, cheap fabrics were rumpled and tossed aside.
After much foot tapping and debating, Dean made a selection at random and prepared to wave the white flag.
One foot out from behind the rack, however, he knew he had chosen wisely.
Y/N’s jaw dropped and the lens slowly lowered. Her eyes went wide and she felt her skin flush.
“Oh. Oh my…”
Curious, Dean stepped closer and opened his arms. “Really?”
Mouth watering and heart beating hard, Y/N nodded. “Yeah. I have no idea why, but that’s it.”
His brows creased. He dipped his chin and stared at her. “Really.”
Y/N licked her lips and nodded. The heat drained from her cheeks and headed downwards, traveling like his gaze over her breasts and settling between her thighs. “Really.”
“You’re so weird.”
“Don’t care,” she said quickly, standing up and reaching for him. “Get over here, professor.”
Her fingertips grazed over the thick, beige wool of his cable knit sweater, hooked around the big, wooden buttons and tugged him close.
Dean’s eyes lit up with lustful wonder.
“Actually, I was a child psychologist in this thing-”
Another tug on the bulky cardigan had him stumbling down onto the bed with her. “I don’t care. Just fuck me…”
Dean licked his lips and ghosted his fingers over the soft leather hiding her body from him. “Yes, Ma’am.”
2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)
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“(Don’t) Hurry Down The Chimney Tonight” - Dean x Reader
Rating Explicit
Dean x Reader
Tags: Christmas (Holiday) Smut, Red Ribbons, Candy Canes, Peppermint Sensations, Sleigh Bells, Sexy Santa References, Dean is Tied Up, Edging, Oral Sex, 69, Vaginal Sex, Reader is a Naughty Little Vixen, Dean deserves a proper (sexy) Christmas.
Word Count: 2700
Summary: Dean saved Reader from the supernatural on Christmas Eve years ago. Every Christmas since, she has always found a way to show her unending appreciation.
Notes: This smutty little fic is a holiday gift for @jessjad for the 2023 SPNFanFicPond Secret Santa Fic Exchange. I hope you enjoy the reader’s sexy times with Dean.
Big thanks to @sam-is-my-safeword and runawaydr3amer (AO3) for reading the first draft and helping with a great many awesome smut ideas. Additional thanks to runawaydr3amer, who also beta’d this fic and packaged it up nice and shiny.
Merry holidays!
I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo, and this part will fill my "Edging" square.
Resources:
Collage created in Canva
Pic found on Google (Fanpop)
Song Reference: Santa Baby by Joan Javits and Philip Springer (listen/watch this version sung by Eartha Kitt)
Dean sinks those pearly whites into the flesh of his bottom lip. His top lip pulls up and back into a painful sneer. The usual rosy, pillowy fullness of that mouth is instead taut, whitening under the capture. You laser focus onto the pointy canine denting into the mouth you have debated sitting on since you began this teasing challenge.
jingle
You finish fashioning a sweet little bow with the ribbon. It’s ruby red and velvety soft.
“Well, I think that’s about the prettiest package I ever did wrap.”
jingle
“What do you think, Mr. Claus?” you ask, your voice as innocent and demure as you can manage.
Dean opens his mouth and expels a slow gasp. jingle “Fuck, sweetheart. You aren’t playin’ fair.”
“That’s the whole point.”
You rise from the edge of the bed and take in the entire scene. It’s magnificent.
He’s magnificent.
Dean is lying atop the forest green comforter of your bed. Naked. Well, not totally naked. A red ribbon - adorned with one single sleigh bell - binds his wrists together and anchors him to the headboard. His arms, jutting out and bent to create a diamond-shaped frame around his face, give you a prime ticket to the gun show. Biceps flex and tendons raise under the skin as he tries to remain as motionless as possible.
jingle
You aren’t a complete heathen. He’s got a fluffy pillow, the same deep green color as the comforter, to rest his head atop. Dean is anything but sleepy. He’s wound up. He stares back at you, the green of his irises electric and flaming with intensity.
You anticipate how sublime it will feel to strum the cords of his neck. Tickle your fingertips down that chest. You imagine Dean ring-a-ding-dinging and cursing himself if you take the time to trace the outline of his tattoo. Circle those perky nipples. Dip into his belly button and follow his treasure trail of baby-fine hair.
You marvel again at the other ribbon that you tied. You’d purchased a couple yards of red velvet at the craft store weeks ago with this in mind. With him in mind. You were ecstatic it had been enough to criss-cross around the crease below that fine ass. It wraps over a slight vee along his waist. The makeshift holiday jockstrap has Dean’s beautiful, now fully erect, cock sporting a bow.
Dean sighs. “Are you done decking my balls?” jingle
You giggle and fiddle with the belt of your robe. It’s red as well, but made of silk. “As we discussed, the end result of all of this is all up to you. Santa.” You flip a switch to turn off the ceiling light. The sconces stay on above the headboard. Two halos figure eight over Dean’s beautiful body, awash in a warm amber glow.
He’s a full print ad of holiday cheer and sinful debauchery.
“You’re being very naughty, (jingle) Mrs. Claus.” Dean licks his top lip—your core clenches at the deep timbre of his scolding.
You’ve been wet since you both finished Christmas dinner. Since you told him you had one more gift for him waiting upstairs. Since you left him in the bedroom with orders to strip while you changed in the bathroom. Since you pulled out the ribbons. Since you explained that if he was good and could keep his jingling down to a minimum through what you had planned, you’d fuck him into the New Year.
You inhale and shrug, then begrudgingly turn your back to the sight. It takes a few taps on your phone for you to get to the song. You stifle another giggle at the little jingles Dean can’t help as he waits.
Once you tap the play button, the festive and recognizable melody begins. A barbershop quartet bah-bums a bit before the sultry and smooth vocals of Eartha Kitt take the lead.
You look back over your shoulder at Dean and whisper along with Eartha.
You peel the silky robe off one shoulder then the other. Dean groans when the layer slips down to the floor. jingle
“Shit.” He moans and you grin in satisfaction at the hoped for reaction.
You turn back to face him, adding a dramatic hair flip. You're wearing a sexy little Mrs. Claus outfit. It’s a red velvet dress with a scandalously high skirt and a low-cut halter. White fur lines both the top and bottom. It’s all cinched nice and tight around your waist with a black belt and a gold buckle.
You bend at the knees and lean forward, shoulders folding in and hands resting on your thighs. It gives Dean the perfect vantage to ogle your cleavage. You purr along with the next line and modify the lyrics a smidge.
“Man, I must have been a really good boy this year.” Dean stares in awe, not even caring how much he’s jingling with his squirms atop the bed.
You let it slide for the time being, thrilled at the kid in a candy store grin plastered on his face and the way the bow sways with every twitch of his cock.
Dean tilts his head to the side. His gaze begins at your red-glitter heels and canvases every inch of skin from ankles to thighs. He pauses, stopping to stare at the hint of flesh under the skirt hem. jin-jingle jingle jin-jingle He pants out, “Mrs. Claus forgot her panties, huh?”
You lift a finger and wiggle it back and forth in the air. “Uh-uh-uh. Remember, really good boys stay still if they want their present.”
The bell jangles no matter how carefully he attempts to reposition himself. “Son of a bitch,” he mumbles and you laugh. “Sorry, sweetheart. I’ll be good,” he whispers soft and sweet.
The heels tap across the hardwood as you walk over to settle beside Dean. You adjust your skirt to let the scant amount of fabric fan over your naughty bits. Being so close to him makes you forget the lyrics to sing along with Eartha.
You rest a hand on his chest. Through clenched teeth, Dean inhales at the touch, the rest of him frozen in place. The bell is silent. Your other hand grabs one of the candy canes you had left on the bedside table. For reasons.
Watching him fight every urge he has to reach out and touch you is fascinating. And the power you have over him gives you a head rush. You continue the tease, twirling the candy between your fingers, then laving the cane’s hook with your mouth and tongue. Dean garners some pity from you as he whines, brows downturned, eyes attentive to your every swirl and suck. You swing the cane close to his mouth. “Wanna taste?”
He swallows. “Wanna taste you,” he states, the hint of hope escaping around the edges of a soft moan.
The thrill of his need quickens your pulse. No other man has loved and adored you as thoroughly and exuberantly as Dean Winchester. You nod. “You will. But, first,” you rub the wet-slick candy cane over his bottom lip, “show me what that mouth wants to do.”
“You know what this mouth can do,” he reminds with a little sass, letting the candy cane tap against his bottom teeth.
But soon enough, he indulges you. He slips the hook between his lips. His tongue slides out under the curve of peppermint, lapping at the sticky sweet. Again and again. Your breath hitches into your open mouth as you watch, enthralled at the ministrations of that thick and powerful muscle. He sucks the confection in a little farther, pursing his lips. The sounds he’s making, enjoying the treat, are downright pornographic and send any extraneous bell ringing to the back of your hearing queue. The red food coloring coats them like lip gloss by the time you break from the spell of his show. You guess it’s been minutes since Eartha finished her rendition of ‘Santa, Baby.’ The rest of the playlist you created has soft and dreamy instrumentals.
“My turn,” you cajole. You tug on the cane. He relinquishes, but not without some resistance. A little pop escapes his mouth once the hook is freed. You marvel at the progress he made. The hook end is substantially shorter and thinner than when he began.
He sniffs and tilts his chin up in pride. jingle “Your turn with that, or my turn with you?”
The cane slips back into your mouth, your fingers sticky from all the handling. You stand, kick off your heels, and climb back onto the bed on your knees. You grin as you suck on the candy.
His eyes soften. “Be careful, baby. Don’t want you to choke. Well, at least not on that.” He smirks.
He’s right. Safety first. You toss the candy onto the bedside table.
“You are so (jingle) fucking hot in that (jingle) outfit.” He grins and waggles eyebrows in anticipation. “Gonna let me down your chimney, Mrs. Claus?” jingle jingle jingle
The actions in the next few seconds are a blur. You wonder if Dean has some sort of Jedi mind control ability. Because even though you are supposed to be the one making decisions this evening, his seductively god-awful puns find you sitting on his face, reverse cowgirl.
“You might get the golden ticket to all my secret places if you’re lucky.” Your fingers tip-toe down his chest like a grinch about to steal someone else’s presents.
jingle jingle jingle
“Fuckin’ hell,” Dean murmurs under your skirt. Hot breath bathes your inner thighs and other areas you hope will soon be explored.
Your hands rest in the little divots created by his pelvic bones while you take his body in and plan your method of attack. You pull on the ribbon and release his cock of the bow. Then, you’re deep throating him like he’s your last meal.
Not one to be outdone at an all-you-can-eat buffet, Dean’s entire face gets in on the feast as well. Nerves respond to the tingling sensation of the residual peppermint on Dean’s lips and tongue. You shiver at the gloriously heightened sensitivity when he pulls back to blow on your pussy. “This is so much better than milk and cookies.” He moans and groans and jingles all the way.
As much as you’re loving the taste of his precome, the velvet texture against your tongue, and the way the tip triggers a tiny gag reflex at the base of your throat, it’s time to remind him of the consequences of all that noise he’s making. You release the hard length from your mouth and try to concentrate on your own breathing during the absolute virtuoso way he’s eating you out. As much as you’d love his fingers to get in on the action, you know you’d have no control over the situation. You sigh in relief that he’s trying to adhere to some parts of the game. The pitiful, half-hearted ribbon shackling of his hands to the headboard is no match for Dean Winchester.
You steady yourself on wobbly knees and one shaky elbow. A firm grip around the base of his cock makes Dean gasp. He stills after that. In your mind’s eye, you picture the beauty of that mouth and how his luscious pink lips were slick with peppermint. You imagine how slick they are with you now. “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs and you feel him settle back onto the pillow. “I’ll be as quiet as I can. Can you blame me, though? Here I am, under your sweet little skirt, in the dark (jingle)... shit, sorry. But, you can’t drop a five-course meal in front of a starving (jingle) man and not expect him to wanna little taste.”
You squeeze his cock. “That’s part of the challenge.”
“I’m always up for a challenge. You always make me feel so good.”
You groan at the praise he bestows. Without releasing your hold, you shimmy off his chest. Channeling the prim and delicate sensibilities of Mrs. Claus, you crawl along the comforter and settle between nutcracker bow legs. With knees tucked under you and sat atop bare feet you accept him in your mouth again and get to work.
You take in the sight of Dean inventorying your every action. He’s gripping the top of the headboard with both hands to steady his upper body. You clock that the little stinker has also managed to palm the sleigh ball in an effort to silence or, at the very least, muffle it. You consider that move cheating. But he feels so sublime that you can’t bear to part with him to voice your irritation. He’s also whispering the sweetest filth to you while he watches.
“Damn. Yeah. Those lips of yours feel so good around my cock. You take it so good, baby. Wish I could fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, but I’d definitely jingle-jangle way too much.” A tongue swipe over his top lip accentuates the glossy look of his ruby-tinted mouth in the warm light. “You really are too good to me. You give the best Christmas presents.” He stiffens further with each downstroke. “Aw, yeah. Suck it.” Your rhythm increases. “So pretty. Wanna touch you so bad.” He gasps. “Fuck, I’m gettin’ close.” jingle jingle
You clamp around the base again and squeeze, freeze mid-swallow - your lips around the tip - as soon as he rings.
Dean squirms and grumbles.
You continue to bring him to the edge of orgasm, then halt. Your jaw is aching along with the rest of your body as time passes.
You’ve fucked Dean up in the best way possible. He’s blissed out, wound up tighter than a spring. You’ve got him begging. But his words grow into admonishments with each successive denial. “You can’t keep doing this, baby. There’s gonna be consequences. Santa’s gonna for real put you on his naughty list. Nothing but coal in your stocking,” he huffs.
You give your mouth a reprieve and stroke him. “Is that all that happens to naughty girls?”
He gnaws at his bottom lip before offering, “You really wanna find out?”
You nod.
The ribbon binding Dean to the headboard shreds with one mighty tug. He pitches the sleigh bell in the air. It jingles as it pinballs around the room.
You gasp as he cinches those hands under your armpits and drags you up his body. He crushes his lips into yours, tastes you with his tongue. The mixture of your arousal and a hint of peppermint melts you in his arms. Then, a sudden and swift rollover pins you beneath him.
He hovers, tosses your skirt up to your chest, and wedges between your legs. His hard, heavy cock slips into your folds and glides through your wetness. “I could drag this out. Or.” It’s his turn to tease. He notches snug against your entrance. You’re surprised your muscles haven’t pulled him into you of their own accord the way your entire body spasms with need. He whispers in your ear, “Let me be your Santa, baby.”
You gasp, “And hurry down the chimney tonight.”
He groans in victory and slides in, balls deep. He thrusts. One massive hand gathers your wrists together on the pillow above your head to anchor you in place. Fingers of his other hand grip the top of the headboard. Every sway in and out of you gets more frenetic. You’re screaming his name and he’s cursing yours.
“Good girls do what they’re told,” he states, out of breath, face reddening. His gaze locks with yours. He slows down. Releases your hands. Finds your clit amid the white fur and red velvet. Strums. Angles and hits your sweet spot deep within you with a harsh abandon. “Come.”
Minutes later, after you’ve both orgasmed, you’re curled into his chest. “That was…” you manage between heavy exhales.
“Yeah, that was awesome.” He kisses your forehead. “Every year, since I saved you from that ghost on Christmas Eve, you find a way to outdo yourself with the holiday cheer.”
“Well, you deserve it. I’m glad you can get away for a little while and get a special treat.”
He sighs. “You know, you don’t have to feel obligated to…”
You rest a finger atop his lips. “How I see it. Guy saves your life one time, you owe him the rest of yours.”
He smiles and pulls you in. “How about we just focus on tonight, yeah?”
You nod. “Merry Christmas, Dean.”
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”
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Lighthouse
A/N: 🐞... Okayz my dearest love bugs, 💕 another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🥰 yayaness, I know its been a while though, But I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one, I must say I'm super proud and, a little terrified as this is 'Supernatural' based 🫣🤭, so let me know what y'all think.🥰 Okayz much love🥰❤️🩷
Warnings: *18+ Only* Horror, Thriller, Mentions of blood, violence, angsty, little fluff, heartbreaking, drama.
Line: Tree, Clock, Rope
Characters: Dean x Fem Reader, Sam, Benny, Cas, Crowley
Words: 6700 😱🫣 I know I'm sorry.
Cover & Pictures: Pinterest, Canva, Google
Side Note: Please check out my Masterlist for more, epic stories🐞💕
The sky has turned into grey, dark clouds threatening too cover the earth with its darkness, the smell of rain is everywhere as it nourishes the earth, as you stand under the pouring rain, listening too him say, goodbye, letting the rain mix with the tears on your cheeks. Not being able too move a muscle, you just stood there unable to make a single sound, unable to ask him why, why after this long, did he want to break up with you, did he want to throw away the life you built. Weren't you enough for him no more,? Is there someone else? Why Now?
The way he said goodbye wasn't with a voice filled with anger, no, his emerald green eyes was sad, his voice almost breaking when he said "I need too let you go sweetheart" and his lips found yours instinctively, it was a soft, kiss, mixed with the taste of him, salt and rain. You didn't want him too leave, you wanted to grab ahold of him, and beg him too stay, but before you could, he got in that Chevy Impala, the engine roared and the tires screeched, as he drove off into the darkness, not a single star in the sky, its almost as if the magic of the moonlight left with him.
Its been a little over three months since he left you standing in the rain, like some dumb country song, but you somehow found a way too move through your everyday life, you were a hunter before you met Dean, and you still are, well in all honesty saving people is the only thing that got you through the days.
It isn't really a job you tell everyone about, oh heck no!, its more a work you keep too yourself, letting your family believe, your just a traveling failure, well you always did kind of feel like you lost your way over the years, but these days your numb. Your best friend Sam doesn't even talk too you anymore, you don't really have a lot of folks who you could call, and say "hey, ya know I'm not really doing well, I need a pick me up or a damn hug" no you always kept too yourself, not trusting anyone, but the day you met Dean and Sam on a hunt it changed.! Sam quickly became your best friend and well Dean soon became the only man you'll ever love, even though he had his issues. And then there was Castiel the angel, he has always felt like a beacon of hope, making you laugh with his "I don't understand that reference" sayings. But the day Dean walked out they all left, leaving you completely alone in this damn scary world. It's not the monsters that scares you, no that you get, but it's the people. Every single person you have met in your life has a hidden agenda, why can't they just be good people.
Sitting at the diner in the small town, were you were investigating strange disappearances, ordering a black coffee, the display with the different pies catching your eye. Your mind wanders off to Dean's birthday... You prepared all his favorite foods, burgers, bacon, fries, the greaser the better, and then you started with the making of his favorite pies. But somewhere along the way you forgot about the pie's in the oven, letting them burn to a crisp, after you rushed in, trying to save what's left of the charred goods, seeing it was disaster, you wouldn't be able to save it, you burst into tears, cussing yourself for messing up what's supposed to be the perfect day, you felt his strong arms pulling you towards his chest, staining his shirt with the wetness of your cheeks. He's breathe hot as he kissed you, in a loving, comforting way, reassuring you everything will be okay, it's just pie's not the end off the world.
He always did know how too comfort you, how too chase the darkness away, he was your lighthouse, so to say, showing you the way, back too the light. And now, now there's no more light too go home. No more home, just nothing.
Taking a sip of the now cold bitter coffee, that kind of taste like, old shoes, not that you'll know how that would taste like, but betting its something like this. Placing the cup down, sliding the dollar's underneath the half full cup on the diner table, you get up, throwing your ball cap on, hair hanging loose on your shoulders, taking your leather jacket and phone, you start too head out of the small town diner. Walking towards your Harley Davidson, you've always liked the way, that bunch of metal, felt roaring as you sat on that leather seat, the wind rushing through your hair, the way those gas fumes, flowed through your veins, not even to talk about the adrenaline that went with it, oh damn, you felt about your Harley like Dean felt about his impala. Seeing a giant creep checking out your bike, leaning on it, irritation in your voice "excuse, what are you doing?"
His voice rough and unpleasant "why do you care, little missy"
Walking closer, your eyes darker than usual "that's my bike"
The bald man, with his long beard, hiding his tatted neck, started to laugh "No way such a small little thing can handle that sort of horse power"
"I'm only going to ask you nicely one more time, get off my damn bike!"
Crossing his arms in front of him, "Or what? You gonna call the little cops"
"No! I'm going to make you get off my bike"
"I'd like to see you try missy"
She really wasn't in the mood for this. So she tried to shove him off, but he was on the larger side and didn't really move a single damn inch. It just made him irritated "hey come here missy" he said as he grabbed a hold of your arm, you smiled, that made him look at you all confused, but he soon realized, he should not have messed with you, as you took his fingers, and started bending them backwards, bringing the big guy down to your size. With your free hand, you punched the sucker in the face. Got up on your bike, and drove down the road too the nearest bar you could find, for information and while you where there you might as well get something to drink.
The Black Chevy Impala roared as it parked in front of the diner, Dean and Sam got out, a big guy, with a black eye, just got off the ground as they started making their way towards the door, Dean looked at the guy a smirk on his face "What happened to you buddy?"
The man mumbled "crazy biker chick"
Dean just laughed, as he figured this chick was probably part of his gang, as the beaten up guy had a biker jacket with their logo on. He still smiled but he felt stabbing pains in his heart. His sweetheart was a 'biker chick' a swell, she could handle that roaring horsepower better than most men, and man!, was she tough, so fierce and fiery, so passionate and yet so gentle, vulnerable at times, so fragile, she cared more than most, people, and beautiful, so freaking beautiful, her smile could light up a room, he fell hard for her the first time he saw her, and it just grew from there he loved her , he still loved her, but he just had too walk away, for her own safety, everyone close too him get hurt or dies. And especially with everything going on, he couldn't risk it, if someone found out, that she wasn't just another hunter, no she was the love of his life, he'd never forgive himself if something would happen too her. Sam calling his name for the fourth time pulled him out of his deep thoughts, "Hey man, you with me?"
"Yeah, yeah, just thinking I need a drink not coffee"
Sam gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing his brother probably thought of her again, he just nods and says "okay sure let's go"
The only information she got was that, some of the missing folks were last seen close too a pig farm , on the outskirts of this town.
And now, now she just sat here swallowing the vodka, it was easier than too think that Dean aren't coming back, hating how she felt , how alone and miserable, how heartbroken, she really thought that she was stronger than this, but no, she's weak and pathetic, sobbing about a man, a damn man who left her in the pouring rain. What the hell was wrong with her, she never was the kind, to be good little wife material, who would cook for her husband and bake brownies for her children's school, but the sad truth was she wanted too be all that with Dean, she would've gave up hunting, too be his wife and the mother of his children. But clearly he didn't feel the same. Thumbing away a stray tear, she gestures to the bartender , for another. The music was loud and the alcohol made her slightly lightheaded, she knew she needed some air, sliding off the barstool, walking towards the exit, fumbling in her pockets for a packet of cigarettes, she only smokes when she drinks. Some guy, lit her cigarette, she just nods, thanking him with a smile as she stood in the crisp evening air, the air mixed with nicotine hit her lungs, letting a little cough escapes her lips. As she blows out the smoke, she heard that damn Chevy pull in, she couldn't miss it , Dean had a certain way if driving and it was him for sure. She just stood there, frozen in the darkness. "What the hell is he doing here" whispering underneath her breath. Hoping that he doesn't see her, knowing that she will burst out in tears the moment she tried to speak too him.
He wales past a couple of bikes, that's when he saw it, her bike, hard too miss it, on the rear bumper the lyrics of her favorite Bon Jovi song. He elbows his brother "Sam, she's here"
Sam looked at him shocked, "What? Are you sure"
Running his hand over his face "Of course I'm damn sure" clearing his throat "I can't see her, man, I just can't, I've missed her so much, it was hard enough too walk away from her that night, I won't be able to do it again"
Sam places his hand on his big brother shoulder "Don't you think, this whole protection thing your trying is dumb"
Dean's jaw clenched, "No, Everybody around me dies, and there's nothing I can do about it, I have to let her go"
Sam just shook his head, his known his brother felt like this for a while now, but it's gotten worse, his unsure why, but he will try and get through too him, Dean's only been happy, whenever he was with her. "Okay let's go"
Dean and Sam made their way towards the car, they're about to get in when they heard a spine chilling scream , Dean recognized her voice. He searches in the darkness, when he catches a glimpse of four men, throwing her in a black van. He didn't even realized it but he started running towards the van, as the last of them jumped in, he saw a glimpse of her, the last thing he heard, was her screaming his name and a gun shot, which brought him to a stop as he fell to the ground, chanting her name over and over, until his eyes fell closed.
Sam fired his gun towards the van, but couldn't get decent shots from that angle. He fell to his knees next to his brother, glancing at the bullet wound in his chest, the blood gushing out, he applied pressure on the wound, he could feel the life draining from his brother as he begged Castiel to come. Sam's eyes damp with tears, his heart pounding in his throat, a silent scream escaping his lip "Cas, please man, I need you Dean need's you"
You could hear the flutter of wings, when the celestial being landed, his face struck with concern "What happened?"
Sam glanced at the man in the trench coat, holding his brother in arms, "please, just help him Cas"
The angel approached his best friend, there was nothing quite as bad, as seeing him, in pain, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder and Sam's, the three men found themselves in a motel, Dean was still unconscious but breathing, Sam glanced at the angel, mouthing a "thank you"
Traces of the tears still evident on her cheeks as she recalled Dean getting shot, he was there, running towards her, he stilled cared. The four men watched her like a hawk, she cradled her legs in the corner, as if she's a animal trying too hide herself from the prey.
The van came to a stop, she knew something had to be done, so she took the knife she hid in her boots, covered it in her hand, she knew taking all four men was asking to much, so she'll have to isolate them. Take them one by one. The men double, maybe triple her size, but she aren't going down this way, without a fight.
As the two men , opened the door, she saw what looked like a barn, there where cages, with other people inside, seeing she's not the only one that needed saving, she slid the knife back in her boot. She needed more information than this, so she went with it. The man held her by her hair, threw her into a cage which had two other girls probably about round about 16 and 18, and much older man, in his late 60's maybe. Hitting the the floor, scraping her palms.
The older man helped her up, "you okay?"
"Yeah thanks never been better" the sarcasm rolled over her pressed lips.
A big guy, came standing against the cage, with a stupid smug on his round face. "When Ricky there told me about this little woman, who punched him, just for leaning against her bike, I knew I had too throw you in the ring"
She got to a standing position, striding closer, too this gigantic man, "What are you? A human trafficker , organ? What"
He laughed "None of the above, just a business man," he started walking away.
"What is he talking about?" Her eyes intensified "Does anyone know why we are here?"
She heard a man's voice coming from another cage, he was beaten pretty bad, "We are here too fight against each other, like the movie Condemned, apparently it happens in really life" he let out a defeated laugh. The whole barn filled with chatter, people gasping for air, as the initial shock took over. Those who haven't seen the movie, quickly got enlighten by those who have, the rich of the rich, places bets on the person, who they think will survive and it gets streamed on the dark web for everyone to watch.
There's a clock with a timer and the one who have killed all the other 'players' in that amount of time, gets to live another round. Some just cried, the others just quietly, sat in the corners of their cages, holding on too their knees, as if that's going to help, everywhere in that barn there's cages filled with silence and then those with chatter.
Then in the cage she's in, the two young teenage girls just hold on too each other, clinging for dear Life. The grey old guy, just kept mumbling too himself, "I can't kill these people" over and over.
Probably not the most polite thing in this situation but damn, it worked on her nerves, she's trying think of a solution, a plan something to save these people. But she was all out of ideas, to be honest, except maybe one, her back was against the cage, she silently started to talk to Cas, asking him to come and find her, but nothing, he didn't hear or he didn't want too, either way it was up too her.
Glancing down at the ground, then her leather boots she remembered the knife, she could use that too unlock the cage door, then start freeing the others, she took the last bit of hope in her hand, starting to put the blade in, turning and wiggling it, until she heard the click sound, she was overjoyed, she slowly opened the screeching steel door, every noise sounded as loud as thunder.
She could see the different keys, close to the barn entrance, almost walking on the balls of her feet, so that she didn't make a single sound, reaching for the keys, her fingertips barely touching it, she jumped into the air, grabbing ahold if it, she started making her way towards the first cage. Searching for the key that fits, the barn doors flung open, she recognized the guy, Ricky from earlier, and some other dude, who made her skin crawl , "Hey how'd you get out?" Ricky shouted.
"What you can see me?" She joked, something she always did, when she was very nervous.
The other guy ran to her, but she kicked him before he even could touch her, she still had the knife in hand, this big fella didn't say, much, he charged towards her, when that silver blade touched his arm, it made him squirm, "Oh that's just freaking lovely, what are you, a vamp? A wolfie?" She sneered
The moment he showed his, teeth she knew it was a werewolf, the other folks in the cages screamed, as they never saw such a creature.
"So this games rigged? Normal human being and creatures from the night, joining the game"
Surprised the wolf looked at her , a growl "your a hunter?"
Mischievous smile on her lips "why would you say that?" The wolf growled once again, as he charged towards your position, clawing your back, as he flung you against a cage, everything is swimming before her eyes, all you could make out was that she was flung against the beaten up man, he had the bluest eyes, which kind of reminded her about Castiel's eyes.
The wolf like creature came closer, looking for your blood, that's when the man stood up, black coat drenched in blood, unsure if it was his own, or some of the creature's his killed, the last time, his blue orbs, illuminated, bloodshot veins stretched like a roadmap in his eyes , his fangs came out revealing that his a vampire.
Laying there, you where left at the mercy of these two, but you were surprised when the vamp, took ahold of the wolf, smashing his head against the bars, he had this deep old time southern voice "leave her alone"
The man, glared at her and the vamp, picking her up, letting her sway like a sack of potatoes in the air. Ricky quickly came to open the cage, throwing her in by the vampire, "You can have her".
Knowing the open wounds made the situation worse, as it was like a magnet for the vamp, she tried too get up, too defend herself but, in that moment she was too weak.
The vamp, came closer towards her, his features returned to those of a man, his voice kind "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm Benny"
Shocked "Benny, like in Benny Lafitte? Dean's friend?"
He smiled, "I thought I recognized you, saw you once on his lock screen, asked him about this new women in his life, he told me you are the love of his life"
Smirking, "Yeah that's awhile ago I guess"
Confusion written all over his face, but before he could ask, the barn filled with gas, hearing Benny say "its to knock us out so they can take us to the next location" before you could find out more, the knock out gas started taking its toll.
His eyes flutter open, Sam and Cas both sharing the same concerned facial expressions, his voice croaky "what did something happen? Is.." struggling to form the words "is she gone?"
Sam spoke quickly, trying to reassure his big brother "No! We don't know, Cas can't pick up her location"
Cas spoke "Wherever she's at, must be warded off with sigils"
Dean groaned when he sat up, "we have to save her, I can't loose her"
The three of them turned their heads when they heard the familiar phrase from Crowley "Hello Boys"
Dean immediately got up, pointing a finger at him, "Do you have something to do with her disappearance, tell me now!"
Crowley gave him a sympathetic look, that lasted about an second "Squirrel I had nothing to do with her, but I know where you can find her"
Dean could not control the anger that intensified in his chest, he smashed Crowley against the nearest wall, his arm pressing against his throat his forest green eyes pierced the black ones, his voice low, and stern "Crowley if your messing with me, I will kill you, I swear I'll kill"
With the flick of Crowley's fingers Dean flew across the room, he shouts, this whole situation clearly upsetting him as well. "She saved my damn life, why would I want something to happen to her, she cared enough to save me, ME!!!" Crowley shouted.
Sam hurried to help Dean up, recalling the saving Crowley is talking about, he was stuck in a devils trap, bounded with chains around his hands and neck, as some other hunter took out all his anger on Crowley, stabbing him over and over, when she came in, tried talking the man down, but he didn't see any reason as he thought Crowley was to blame for the death of his family, but he wasn't, he had nothing to do with it. As she was talking to this guy, she slowly started to scratch the round red chalked circle on the floor with the heel of her boots, so that Crowley can break free, the line was finally broken, by clicking his fingers the chains shook loose and fell into a thousand pieces, the other hunter saw what she did, ran towards her, pushed the blade right through her upper torso. That's when Dean and Sam ran into, her for the first time, they where hunting the hunter who they thought was possessed but turns out he had such an amount of rage inside him, that whom ever got in his way, he'd kill.
Dean's harsh voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts, "Where is she Crowley"
"Well not only her , but other people as well, even Werewolves and vampires, you named it they have it, I know the location, but we have to go now," he clears his throat, "there's only one snag, neither can I nor Cass get in their, the damn sigils on the barns wall, wont let us through"
Dean's already halfway across the room, towards the door, "what are we waiting for"
In a matter of seconds the four of them stood In front of the barn on the pig farm, Sam is busy discussing a plan of action but Dean, already pushed the barn doors open, "what the hell Dean" the loudness in Sam's voice makes Dean face him, but he just shakes him off, not answering, too determined to safe her, he walks in, gun in hand, ready for anything, everywhere you look, all the cage doors stands open, not a single trace of anyone, something glistening on the floor catches his eye, its a rose gold chain with a heart shaped locket, he didn't need to turn it around, to see the engraved 'love you always D.W' to know its hers, he opens it anyways, glaring at the picture, both off them laughing, the way they looked at each other, you could feel the electricity, the love they shared, he folds it closed in his fisted hand, his eyes damp with emotion. He runs outside, punches Crowley straight in the face. Cas takes ahold of Dean's arm's demanding him to stop. The defeated look on his face is too much too bare for the three men looking at Dean, disappointed and unsure where to look next they start looking around the farm for clues, for something that can give him a glimpse of hope.
The strong sunrays, burning her eyes, as she opens them, the pain from last night's fight, let's her realize what's happening, she tries too move, but can't, searching for the reason, she sees the rope wrapped around her arms, and waist, too a tree, she tries too wiggle, to get out off the tight grip, that's when she hears a ticking of a clock tick-tock, tick-tock, it sounded incredibly loud, looking up to where the sounds came from, seeing giant speakers blaring the sound of a clock. A rough unpleasant voice spoke, game rules: "Everything goes, you can use any weapon you can find, to kill your opponent, and also remember the last one standing gets too live" he lets out a snotty laugh. "Oh yes, and contestants, we made the first kill very easy, if you can find contestant five, she's tied up and ready to kill, oh and give us a show" he laughs harder, then all of the sudden its dead silence, figuring she's contestant no: five, she'd better think of something to get out if this situation. Her words barely a whisper, "I don't even know why I try, but Cas are you there, Crowley, can someone hear me? Please I need someone"
The rustling of the leaves, let's her know there's someone, maybe it's Cas or Crowley, maybe its someone's who wants to take her as their first kill.
The large man with his black coat walks towards her.
He's voice hushed, "let me get you outta here"
"Oh darn, I'm so thankful its you Benny"
As he unties her, they hear rustling in the bushes, he hands her a knife, and they stand ready for action, back against back, three people came closer, it's the three she shared the cage with, she and Benny suggested they walk behind them, so that the two of them can protect them.
The further they walk the more danger they seem too run into, Benny takes the most werewolves, windigos and Leviathan's , as for you, you take most of the other human beings, who wants to attack the two teenage girls and old man.
You are bruised, beaten and torn up, unsure if your body is covered in your own blood or those of the enemies, you keep on going, grateful, that you had these people to protect, because if you had to be honest, if it weren't for them, you wouldn't fight so hard to survive, every now and then you get flashbacks of how Dean got shot, knowing it was fatal, you don't want to allow yourself to think that he could be really gone, there's this glimmer of hope that he might still be alive, maybe Sam helped him, maybe Cas or Crowley.
Resting against a tree to catch your breath, you see the blood gushing down your arm, one of the men came at you with a damn axe, and in the fight he threw the axe towards you, pinning you against a tree, it must've been the adrenaline but you wiggled that axe, out of you arm, screaming while throwing it back at him, which ended up between his eyes. You fell too your knees, the emotion welling up behind your eyes, you get caught off guard when someone or something picks you up in the air. A little weak, and confused all you can see is that your draped over the large man, with multiple tattoos shoulder, it didn't take long, too lose consciousness.
Dean could not believe what he just heard, both Cas and Crowley told him, that they heard you call out too them, they knew where you were, you where caught in Purgatory, damn Purgatory. What the hell is going on. It felt like someone took his very last breath. His been too Purgatory, It's no joke for sure, it changed him, the only person who made him whole was her, his sweetheart and now, now she's going through all of that.
Crowley spoke with his people, which revealed, that the one and only Dick Roman sits behind it all, with a connection in the real world, who takes normal people, of all ages just to make money, and feed his obsession of killing people.
His quiet, as he drives too the place where the portal opens to Purgatory, thinking about all the things there, so many monsters, dangers around every corner. He just hopes, his going to make it in time, she just has too be okay, has to be alive, squinting his eyes as he recalls what he had too do, too survive.
"Sweetheart you awake?" Rolling over too the right side of the bed, emerald green eyes looking back at you, "Baby?"
"Why do you look so surprised sweetheart"
"Uhmmm I'm not really sure, it feels so right yet so wrong" she smiled
Without a single word, Dean cups your face, places his lips on yours, its sweet, it's sensual, yet filled with passion. Breaking the kiss, you look at him, studying his face, the speck of hazel around the black pupil, the way, his freckles runs across his nose, almost like the milky way, the corners of his mouth, that is slightly curled in a smile, his plumps lips, that's slightly swollen from the kiss, the little stubble on his chin and cheeks, the way his jawline just kind of frames his picture perfect face, the way his deep smoky voice fills the air, and your body with a exhilarating energy, "Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked.
Your voice barely audible and brittle, "I just love you, I love you more than life itself"
His voice calm, but certain "Marry Me"
Your jaw dropped, "What?"
He started to kiss your lips softly, his breathe hot as he said "Yes babe, I want you to be my wife?"
Searching his eyes your lips crept upwards into a smile, your voice sounded more brittle than you intended "Yes, yes Dean Winchester, I'll marry you"
The joy dancing in his green eyes, made you happy, even though a few stray tears rolled over your cheeks.
Feeling like your walking on cloud nine, then all of the sudden, you get this sharp pain in you ribs, unwillingly your eyes flutter open, gasping for air "what the hell?"
Looking around you, seeing your in some kind of room, chains around your wrists, hanging from what looks like the ceiling, clothing blood-soaked. Hair sticking to your face, sweat mixed with blood. Your feet barely touching the floor, it feels as if your arms is getting pulled out of their sockets if you move to much, your throat dry, realizing you must've been passed out, it wasn't really a dream, more like a memory, Dean did ask you too marry him, and then outta nowhere, two days later, you where left standing in the rain, the tears streaming down your face, unsure if it's about the way Dean left things, or the situation your currently thrown in.
Sighing, whispering to no one really "I'm tired, I'm so tired, I can't anymore and I don't want to anymore" head hanging down, looking at the floor, closing your eyes, wishing all this could be over, you heard heavy footsteps, laughter filling the dark air.
His voice smooth "All this turned out better than I could've imagined"
Confused you glare at him "okay, fine you win, get it over with"
Walking closer towards you, big smug on his face, "see, I can't deal with you yet, I know who you are" getting angrier now "I'll finally get my revenge, Dean will watch you die, he wanted to send me here, now I will take something precious from him"
Shocked to hear that he thinks Dean is still alive , she plays along maybe, it's her way out, Scoffing "Well sorry to hear you think he'd be coming to look for me, because we aren't together no more"
He laughs, "oh no, he is already here, searching for you, my men left him a little bread trail, as to where you are"
Furious now, you shake, trying to get loose, shouting "You leave Dean alone, kill me , but let him go please"
Clapping his hands together, "Ah, young love" he laughs harder "I am going to kill you, but Dean needs to watch, then I'll kill Sam, Cas and even Crowley, all while Dean has to watch"
Eyes wide, barely audible "They're all here"
His smug smile never leaving his face "oh yes, all of them, clearly they care, its so pathetic, you humans, you know that?"
Squinting her eyes, trying too fight the tears threatening to spill over, you care about all of them, more than you care to admit. He just simply walks out of sight. The silence is deafening, the only thing she can hear is her heart racing, Dean's alive, he came looking for her. Somewhere between the excitement of hearing Dean's alive and the spine chilling silence, she lost consciousness.
They hardly had too beat the crap out of some of the men, on their road to this half torn down, factory like building, all of them agreed, it felt like a trap, but Dean didn't give a damn, he needed to find her, save her and bring her home, he has been cursing himself internally, the whole damn way, if only he didn't freak out, but the moment he realized he wanted to marry her, be her husband, wishing he never said that, went on that hunt, saw how that ghost threw her against the wall, the pain she must've felt, he couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt or worst getting killed, just because that's what he did, so saying goodbye, felt like the best thing to do, hoping she'll give up hunting, but he should've known better. He should have stayed by her side, he should have discussed his fears, the way he felt, but instead he went and broke her heart.
The four of them split up, there's to many halls, and doors too search, mostly the halls are filled with darkness, its filthy and disgusting, dried splattered blood on the walls, scattered human bones on the cement floors. There's scratching sounds coming from one of the rooms, the gun in Dean's hand is loaded, opening the door, unsure of what he's going to find, he's skin crawling as a bunch of rats, runs past him, some over his feet, slapping against his legs, whispering underneath his breath, "damn filth". He's heart, beating out of his chest, the more he walks in the darkness the more he can feel the darkness entering his mind, his heart, every grain of his very being.
He stopped in his tracks, the moment he saw her, hanging by chain's, her whole body is slumped over, hair covering her face, he can't make out if she's still breathing, for what felt like an eternity, he froze, almost too afraid to take a closer look. Striding closer till he's right in front of her, he gently takes her face in his hands, concern painted on his face, a burning pain in his chest, her beautiful face is bruised, and bloodied, her breathing faint, but still there, his voice hushed "Sweetheart, can you hear me"
Watching her open her eyes, was a beautiful site, she looked tired, a smile across her busted lips, "Dean,"
"Yes sweetheart I'm here, I'm sorry, I love you" he declared.
Sobbing now, "I... I thought I lost you forever"
"Baby, you'll always have me, always you hear me" he pleaded
Before she could answer a couple of men appeared out of the shadows. There were maybe six or seven, Dean got up, in a fighting stance ready to beat the crap out of them, he started punching and kicking his way, through the men, it wasn't until the last one hit the ground that he'd stop, blood splatters across his face, glancing over at her, he hears the familiar voice of Dick Roman "crashing the party are we?"
"Yeah well I didn't receive an invite so thought I'll invite myself" Dean smirked. He drew his gun, knowing it won't really help, but it's more a habit, "What do you want?" He questioned
Crude laughter fills the air, "I want you to pay Dean" he snapped his fingers, more men came running towards Dean, he tried his best, but he was one against, all of them, they over powered him, one clocked him against the head, in his unconscious state, they were tying him to a chair with chains, facing you.
It didn't take long before they were beating you, biting your lower lip, not wanting to give them the pleasure of seeing you in so much pain, you could taste the blood on the tip on your lip.
Dick Roman came walking towards you, dagger in hand, hoping he couldn't see the pain, and fear in your eyes, your eyes pierced his, he didn't say a single word, he pushed that dagger, through the skin and bone, wedging it between your ribs. Your scream filling the dark room.
Dean's eyes flung open, he's jaw clenched, he's voice angered and defeated "NO BABE" he shouted.
"Ah poor Dean Winchester" he laughed
Dean's green eyes, now almost black, "I'm going to kill, I promise you that"
Laughter filled the air, once again, it didn't last long though, surprised he glanced at them, Sam, Cas, Crowley and Benny, all four off them stood their bloodied and beaten, but ready to fight. All four of them started fighting and killing their way towards Dean and you, Crowley was the first one to stand next too Dean, his British voice almost inaudible "This belongs to you" he's face lit up with a sly smile.
Dean looked at him all confused, "I thought you threw this in the sea somewhere"
Crowley just shrugs his shoulders. The moment he placed that blade in Dean's hands he could feel the mark, turning a fiery red, the power pulsing through his veins, it didn't take long for the effects to take control of him, breaking loose out of the chain's, he faces Dick Roman, a smirk on his lips, he's features darkens. Taking that blade right too his chest, he kept going over and over, not stopping for a second, driving the blade further and deeper into his now lifeless body.
Sam tried to make him stop, even Cas, Benny and Crowley, but it didn't work.
Your voice brittle, revealing the pain, "Dean stop, please Baby"
Immediately stopping, he threw the blade down, running towards you, his eyes pleading, his voice soft "Sweetheart I'm so sorry" cupping your face, kissing your lips, holding you close to him, as Cas and Sam unlocks the chains, your body went limb, all you could feel is his hands holding you upright. Staring into his emerald green eyes, mouthing "I love you" the last thing you catches a glimpse off, was the light in his eyes as he replied "I love you too, Sweetheart, come back to me, come home please"
It's been almost three years since that dreadful day, smiling now, if it weren't for Dean begging Cas to save you, you wouldn't be here baking your husband his birthday pie, getting ready for the barbeque, with your good friends Sam, Cas, Benny and yes even dear old Crowley.
Did you and the Winchester Brothers stop hunting, no, of course not, but the two of you have each other and that's all you'll ever need, whenever your lost, knowing Dean's your lighthouse showing you the way home, with those beautiful green eyes.
#jacklesversebingo23#nescveckwriter#lighthouse#spn fanfic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#jensen ackles x reader#spotify#jared padalecki#sam and dean#dean winchester imagine#benny lafitte#castiel spn#spn#Spotify
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Heart Of Stone
Dean x reader
Word Count- 1630
Warnings- Angst, Self-loathing Dean (yes, that's a warning 😂), A little fluff
A/N- This fills my "Unexpected Touch" square for @jacklesversebingo
Dean woke with a start, his body and pajamas drenched in sweat. Another nightmare, another sleepless night. You’d think with everything he’s seen in his life, he’d be used to them. But, he has to take deep breaths and try to still his racing heart every time, ground himself to keep from panicking. He hates it. Hates how, after all these years, his fears still plague him.
This dream was different than the usual nightmares. It wasn’t the faces of all the people he couldn’t save or the monsters that had tried to end him. No, this one was worse. It was about her, and those are the worst. He can handle the trauma that comes with his job and take the guilt and sadness that comes with it, calm himself, and push it down. But, when it comes to the nightmares about her, he can’t.
Y/N had carved her way into his heart the last few months, whether he wanted her to or not. She meant so much to him. Just the thought of her smiling face or the brightness in her eyes when she spoke to him always calmed his nerves. Hell, who’s he kidding? She soothed his soul. But she would never know that. She couldn’t. Dean wasn’t the kind of man that deserved a woman as good as her. As much as he wanted to be selfish, open himself up to her, let her in, and let her start to heal him, he wouldn’t. She didn’t deserve to be dragged down by his self-loathing, insecurities, or the inevitable misery that would come with being with him. No, as much as he wanted to be a man she deserved, a man worthy of her love, he wasn’t and never would be. So, as with everything thing else, he’ll push his feelings down and bury them deep.
As he sat on his bed, back against the headboard, his mind swirling with all the negative thoughts, a soft knock on his door made him jump. He would know that sound anywhere. It was Y’N’s knock. Yes, he had it so bad for her that he could differentiate her knuckles on his door from everyone else’s. He sighed, running his hand down his face, and tried to calm himself before she entered his room.
“Come in,” his shaky voice echoed through the silence.
“I thought I heard you scream. Are you okay?” she asked as she peeked around the door. Her hair falling around her face out of her messy bun made him smile softly. Damn, she was beautiful.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” she smirked, walking into the room and putting her hand on her hip.
He knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to her. She always saw right through him, which made her more endearing and infuriated him simultaneously. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t going anywhere, so he might as well tell her the truth. Well, half-truth. She didn’t need to know that he had a nightmare about her. How he had allowed himself to have her, just to watch her die bloody.
“I had a bad dream. Nothing to worry about. You can go back to bed.”
“Dean…” she sighed, walking over to sit beside him, taking his big hand in hers, “You do know you can talk to me. You don’t always have to go through everything alone. It’s okay to let someone be there for you every now and then.”
“I know, but I’m fine. Honestly,” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, the tell-tell crinkles by his eyes not there. She knew he was faking it, and she wasn’t leaving until he talked to her. He was always there for everyone he cared about, shouldering the majority of everything, and he deserved to be cared for this time.
“Let me take care of you for once. You don’t have to be the tough guy all the time,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek in her small hand, caressing it with her thumb as her other hand entwined with his.
His breath caught in his throat, heart racing, as he stared at her. The unexpectedness of her soft touch had surprised him, thrown him off guard, and he was frozen. His head and his heart were in a battle with each other. His mind telling him to back away, to leave now, and to end it before it can go any further. On the other hand, his heart screamed at him to stay, pull her to him, kiss her, and tell her how much he loved her. Casting his eyes down, he tried to decide whether to run or remain where he was when she spoke.
“Dean, look at me,” she pleaded, and when he didn’t look up, she slid her hand from his cheek to his chin, lifting his face to look him in the eyes.
“Y’N, don’t, please,” he whimpered, his willpower slowly chipping away as she stared at him, the longing in her eyes breaking his heart. Because all he wanted was her, to take her in his arms, but he couldn’t. She deserved so much more than a man like him could ever give her.
“No, Dean, you don’t. If I’m wrong, please correct me, but I’ve seen how you look at me. How your eyes follow me when I’m in the room, the longing in them when you think I’m not looking. I know this because that’s how I look at you. If you haven’t noticed, I want you, and I think you want me too,” she admitted, her voice trembling with the anxiousness of how he would respond. She doesn’t know if she can handle his rejection.
“It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“Yes, it does, Dean. It matters just as much as what everyone else wants. You deserve happiness, too.”
“I’m not a good man, sweetheart-” he began to speak, but she cut him off.
“That’s bullshit! You’re the best man I know!” she shouted, her frustration with his self-doubt spilling out.
“It’s not. You want the truth? I hate what I see when I look in the mirror; hate the man that’s staring back at me. You see these hands?” he lifted his hands, turning them around for her to see, “They’ve killed people, Y/N. There’s a dark side to me. You’re telling me that’s a man you want to be with? Because you deserve more, so much more.”
“Dean…” she whimpered, his words breaking her heart. How could he not see what everyone else sees? “First, you don’t get to decide what I want or deserve. And second, you want to know what I see when I look at you? I see a man who raised his little brother to be an incredible man. I see a man who puts everyone above him, no matter what, always putting himself last to make sure everyone else is taken care of. And these hands, all I see are hands that are cut, calloused, and scarred because he puts himself in danger daily to make sure others are safe, people who will never even know what he sacrifices for them. I don’t see that as a bad man, Dean. I see a man who deserves more than he will ever believe he does, and if you will let me, I want to be the one to prove it to you. You’re an amazing man, Dean. Please stop selling yourself short of what you want, and especially what you deserve. And that Dean Winchester is the world, and I want to give that to you.”
“I can’t, Y/N. I can’t. What if something happened to you because you were with me? What if my nightmares come true?” he choked on his words, the thought of losing her bringing tears to his eyes.
“Is that what you dreamt? That something happened to me?” she asked softly, placing her hand back on his cheek. He nodded as he leaned into her touch, finally allowing himself to feel and enjoy how her palm held him just right as a tear finally escaped and rolled down his face.
“That’s why I can’t. I couldn’t make it if something happened to you.”
“Dean, something could happen to me going to the grocery store, a hunt, or I could slip and crack my head open taking a shower,” she chuckled.
“That’s not funny,” he grumbled, turning further into her touch.
“It’s the truth. Anything could happen to either of us at any time. So, why would you let that stop us from having what we want? Why not enjoy what time we do have together?”
“I don’t know how to be in a relationship, Y/N. The one time I tried, it blew up in my face.”
“Then how about we learn together? We’ll take it slow. Learn how to let go of our fears, the things we can’t change, and love each other the way that works for us,” she smiled, leaning in to gauge his reaction, and when he didn’t pull away, she pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. A kiss to let him know that she was and would always be there and would take care of him how he deserved to be.
And that night would be the beginning of something wonderful that he had never thought he could ever have. A relationship with a woman who loved him for him and accepted him and all his flaws. Over time, she had done what he thought was impossible. She had broken through and shattered the walls he had around what he thought was a heart of stone.
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#jacklesversebingo23#dean winchester#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#supernatural family#spn famdom#dean x reader#spn fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural#dean fanfiction#dean winchester x female!reader#spn fiction#spn fanfic#spnfandom
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*images credited to Kim Kardashian Twitter, and CW photo stills
Anonymous Prompt: “I really want demon dean stalking someone but I don’t know how to do that with consent? But guh just the thought of him.
Characters: Knight of Hell/Demon Dean Winchester x unnamed female character
Tags/warnings: 18+ only; this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester; stalking; exhibitionism; voyeurism; mutual masturbation; dirty talk; horny on aisle 3; fuck it, we ball
Words: 2,400
Author’s notes: #Mutual Masturbation for @jacklesversebingo
This did not turn out the way I'd planned, and it's not nearly as dark as I thought it would be. But I still love it! I hope you love it, too.
Thank you @brrose-apothecary @talltalesandbedtimestories @sam-is-my-safe-word @runawaydr3amerao3 @bigmouthlass for idea bouncing, and @stusbunker for the proof read and green light.
ENNUI
For some people, the passage of time is beautiful and magical; the smallest things are to be cherished. For others, time passing reinforces our connection with the world, marking each pulse of the rhythm of life. For her, time measures the loss and emptiness of what isn’t or will ever be again.
Today is a milestone birthday for her. The days leading up to it have been punctuated by discoveries of new lines, bulges, and other undesirable changes to her body that remind her she’s steadily failing.
Since she had just two appointments this morning, she decided to close her office early and hit the pool shared by her HOA. Her neighbors are mostly professionals without children, and it’s Tuesday; she’s sure she’ll have the pool to herself to languish in the wet heat of July in the Midwest.
That annoying fucking saying ‘it’s not the heat, it’s the humidity’, comes for her breath and doesn’t leave. It seeps into the lining of her lungs, heavy and damp, slowing and weighting each step she takes toward the south-facing bank of chairs. Once she reaches the chair she always uses, she drops her canvas tote to the concrete and shrugs out of the sheer wrap before shuffling out of her sandals.
She bends to rifle through her bag for her tanning oil, and a faint chill begins to weave its way up her spine.
+
Dean is sitting in the front seat of the Impala, swallowing the last bite of his Biggerson’s double bacon and cheese when she snags his attention. She walks with the measured confidence that speaks more of a dare than of enthusiasm. She’s alone, and everything about her vibe tells Dean that she’s more than comfortable with that.
She doesn’t miss a beat as she makes her way to a randomly chosen lounger in a line of another dozen exactly like it. She lets her bag slip from her grasp, and her robe floats from her straight shoulders to join it at her feet.
She’s small in stature but she looks strong and fit—thick thighs and sculted arms, a narrow waist, and curves upon curves. Dean's never cared much about short, tall, fat, thin; he likes women and sex, and if he hits it off with someone, he’s down to fuck.
But this woman is a work of art.
He watches her dig through her bag, dragging his gaze from her delicate ankles and smooth calves and thighs to the generous curve of her ass. He imagines wrapping arms around her, lifting her to carry her to... bed, most likely.
He chuckles to himself.
She takes a seat half-upright with her legs outstretched and applies oil to her bronze skin. He wishes he could rub it in for her. He lets himself believe she can read his mind, that she's doing this for him, putting on a show just for him.
Why not?
When she unties her bikini top to expose her full, heavy tits and dusky nipples, he doesn’t think twice about popping the button on his jeans and pulling his hot, persistently hard cock from his boxers.
+
As she had hoped, she’s alone at the pool. The small cluster of townhouses where she lives and the complexes on either side are as quiet as any Tuesday afternoon. Other than the birds and squirrels in the trees, she’s got the place to herself.
Well, and the old black Chevy parked at the Biggerson’s next door and the shadowy figure within. She may be cynical, but she’s self-aware, and she’s going to squeeze every drop of pleasure from this bland existence as possible.
She’s always been an exhibitionist, definitely a thrill-seeker. She pulls the tie at her neck until the triangles, scarcely covering her breasts, fall away. Then she splashes oil across her collarbones, letting it heat and drip down and around, and between her breasts.
She flicks her shaded eyes to the car before hefting and massaging the full mounds of flesh, then sighs and nuzzles into her lounger. She bites her bottom lip hard as she pinches and twists her puckered nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.
She notices the figure shifting in the driver’s seat. They don’t start the engine or exit the vehicle. Instead, they lift a palm to their mouth and, she imagines, they spit before the hand disappears out of her sight once more.
“Fuck,” she whispers with a smile as she settles her head back against the plush headrest, dragging one hand down her torso and pushing it into her bikini bottoms.
+
That smirk.
Dean looks around the parking lot to find no one else around—it’s as empty as her pool area. He looks back to see that she’s planted her feet on the ground on either side of her chair, her legs spread open, and one hand working rough and slow in her bikini bottoms while the other pulls at her nipples.
“Fuck yes, sweetheart. Do it for me,” Dean mutters, twisting and pumping his cock.
He grunts and groans as she pulls her hand from her bathing suit and lifts it to her mouth. She raises her head, then, and pushes two fingers between her luscious lips. She sucks and licks her fingers, taking her time, and Dean wishes she wasn’t wearing those mirrored sunglasses. He wants to see her eyes.
Are they blue? Green? Brown?
Is she watching him like he’s watching her?
After what feels like the longest and most uncertain staring contest, she pushes her fingers back between her legs. She doesn’t immediately put her head back, though. This time, she licks her lips and grips the edge of her chair with the hand she isn't using to fuck herself.
“That’s right, good girl, show me how you like it.”
He grips the steering wheel as he pumps himself until her mouth drops open and she starts to tremble. Her gorgeous tits bounce and her hips undulate, and, before he knows it, he’s spurting hot over his fist.
+
She slams her head back against the headrest, sweating and panting even more than she was from the afternoon sun. She feels gooey and giddy, and light. She opens her eyes and heaves a sigh of satisfaction, pitching forward to look across the pool to Biggerson’s parking lot.
A flash inside the car lights a cigarette, and she catches the first glimmer of the dark stranger. He holds her gaze for a beat, the flame’s reflection dancing in eyes so dark they appear black, before throwing the zippo closed and roaring from the empty lot.
She sighs again as she sits up straight and ties her top back in place before standing, stretching, and striding toward the pool to dive in. The water is cool and calm as she strokes from one end of the pool and back again three times before barrel-rolling to her back to aimlessly float. A light breeze ruffles the leaves overhead, making the sunlight flicker like a strobe.
After a while, she draws a deep breath before tucking into herself to blissfully sink to the bottom of the muted 4-foot depth.
+
“Sure.” Dean nods and rolls his eyes as Crowley nags him on the other end of the line.
Crowley gave him a job, which is what brought him to her town, and he really should do it—to calm The Mark and keep the peace with the King of Hell—but he’d rather be knocking on her front door.
Seeing her yesterday has completely derailed his plans. It’s been years since he felt an instant connection with someone like he feels with her. Separated by the green vining through the black chain link and shade inside his car, he felt her. He wants to feel more.
“I’ll take care of it, OK?”
He isn’t lying, not really; he’ll take the guy out, just not right now. He’s... preoccupied.
“Now, Dean. Not tomorrow, not next week-”
“Yeah. I know. I’ll get it done. Bye.”
Dean cuts the line and tosses his phone to the passenger seat then looks up just in time to see her exiting her townhome. She’s wearing those stretchy kinds of pants women wear to the gym with heeled boots and a leather jacket. Dean has no idea what the fuck that outfit is all about, but her ass looks incredible. She takes even steps with her head held high. The view from behind her is infuriating. With every stride, her ass plumps and sways, and her wide hips tease him relentlessly.
He fires up the engine and puts the car in Drive before carefully pulling away from the curb to follow her.
He pictures what she’d look like bent over the hood of the Impala. He imagines yanking those stupid fucking pants down to her knees and kicking her heeled feet wide. She’d moan and arch her back, presenting her perfect, bare ass to him. He’d smack it, and she’d yelp, begging for more.
She’d beg. And he’d grab a fistful of her shiny black hair to twist and squeeze as he slammed inside her over and over.
“Fuck,” he groans, pressing the heel of his palm down onto his ever-present and now throbbing erection.
He watches her toss her hair as she turns into a storefront six blocks from her front door, and Dean slides into another parallel spot and waits.
+
The drugstore door closes behind her, and she’s instantly enveloped by artificially cooled air. One of the many things she despises about midwestern summers is the necessity of air conditioning. She procrastinates turning hers on inside her townhouse every season as long as possible, but when her clients begin to complain, she gives in.
She doesn’t waste time browsing for anything other than what she came for—eye cream. Yesterday’s existential crisis is a distant memory, surpassed by him.
She thinks it’s silly that he’s trying to be stealthy, parking a block down the road, like she didn’t see that ridiculous car of his in front of her house before she even opened her door. This game of cat and mouse is fun for her, though. There’s mystery and suspense. It distracts her from the mundane.
She pays for her eye cream and drops it into her handbag before replacing her sunglasses over her eyes. She doesn’t know the rules of this game they’re playing, but she’s never played by anyone’s rules except her own, so it doesn’t really matter.
Back out in the heat, she pauses before heading toward the restaurant to meet a friend for lunch. Sunlight beams off the chrome bumper of his car, making her squint even with her sunglasses on. She shields her eyes and tosses him a smirk, then turns to walk the other direction.
+
She sees him now, and she saw him yesterday.
That fucking smirk of hers is the guarantee he needs. Every step she takes and every move she makes is an invitation, and he has to think long and hard about whether that’s a good thing or not. Because he’s sure that not only does she see that he’s watching her, but that once she sees him up close and personal, she’ll see who he really is.
She’s a kindred spirit. He knows this as well as anyone knows when they find that person, that connection. He doesn’t know what the connection is exactly, but he knows it’s there, and it’s undeniable.
But can she hold her own with him?
He decides to follow her with renewed purpose.
+
After lunch, she stops at a consignment shop, the florist, and the liquor store. She wanders along the selection of wines, row by row, waiting. She doesn’t have to wait much longer, though.
“Lotta choices, huh?”
The ticking of her heart speeds up from the sound of his thick, masculine voice. It’s only been 24 hours, but she’s been on tenterhooks, willing him to approach her, and it’s finally happening.
Then she turns to face him and gasps.
He’s gorgeous—tall, broad-shouldered, perfectly proportioned, defined, angular jawline, thick eyelashes, and a mouth that has her rapidly dampening her underwear. But it’s his eyes that give her pause.
Sparkling obsidian. She wasn’t imagining what she witnessed yesterday. Then he blinks to reveal the most exquisite jade. Her skin crackles with anticipation. He’s like no one or thing she’s ever seen before.
She wants to know everything.
“Small talk? After all we’ve been through together?” she murmurs, shifting into him like he’s a black hole that will never let her go.
She can’t- won’t deny him.
+
He narrows his gaze and slowly tilts his head, studying her face.
“Honey, we can talk about anything you want.” He scans her bright, whiskey eyes and the straight bridge of her nose leading to the enticing pitch of her top lip. “But I’d rather do something else with my mouth.”
Her eyelids flutter and he chuckles, teasing the backs of his incisors with the tip of his tongue. He reaches for her, tucking one hand under the back of her hair and bringing her the last few inches closer.
“Like what?” she whispers, and he meets her trembling lips with a firm, insistent kiss.
“I think you know,” he mutters, turning and pressing her against the selection of Australian whites.
She hums, draping her arms around his neck. “I wanna hear you say it.”
Dean drags her flush against him by her waist and twists his fist in the back of her long, raven hair. And he tells her what she wants to hear.
“I’m gonna taste every inch of you.” He mumbles against her throat and lower. “I’m gonna suck those beautiful tits and bite your tight nipples.” He pushes a knee between her thighs and lifts until his leg meets the hot, damp crotch of her thin, stretchy pants, then scrapes his teeth over the shell of her ear. “And I’m gonna lick and play with your little clit until you're begging me to fuck you. And then I’ll lick you some more.”
She grinds over his thigh. “We gonna do this here?” she breathes.
Dean huffs a laugh as he steps away, setting her back on her own two feet. He holds her hand and her gaze. “Yeah, I know how much you like an audience. But I want you naked and I don’t wanna share you.”
She swallows and nods. “What’re we waiting for?”
Dean grins and spins toward the door, leading her out into the afternoon sun.
Dean Winchester Masterlist | MJ’s Masterlist
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Hello, goodbye.
A/N: This is my second post for @jacklesversebingo / All mistakes are mine
Square filled: Break-Up
Warnings: Angst, mentions of alcohol, language, cheating, hurt, tiny bit of fluff/comfort
Word count: ~3.5k
My Masterlist
Staring at the bottom of your almost empty tea cup, you waited for Jensen to come home. You grabbed your phone again from the table to send him another text but ended up throwing it on the couch because your previous messages, sent yesterday around noon were left on read by him.
"Hey, babe! I know you're going to board the plane soon, but call me when you land. Miss you!❤️"
Few hours later followed by next one.
"Hey, you haven't called yet:( I know you should be home by now..I'll finish up work in a minute, see you soon!"
And before these were even more calls and messages. More "I miss you's", "Can't wait to see you's" & "Love you's". All went to voicemail or were just left on read. He's just busy, you had tried to reason this silence on his part so far. But when you got home yesterday evening, he was not there. Probably his flight got delayed or phone battery ran out you had thought but as the hours passed, you felt that it was something else. Never has he ignored you or been radio silent for this long. Another full day had passed, without him contacting you. And now you were getting more anxious by the minute. Jared should probably know where Jensen is, right? You wanted to call him but it was already past midnight so you settled on sending him a text. Maybe they went for a drinks and he forgot to tell you. Unlikely, but still a possibility.
You dragged yourself to the kitchen to make another tea, so you could try to get some sleep. While waiting for the kettle, you sent another text to him.
"Jensen, where are you? I'm worried. Call me."
You let out a frustrated sigh and cursed yourself for being such a nervous mess. You decided to ditch the tea and go straight to bed instead. You were certain that his flight was just delayed, which wouldn't exactly explain him ignoring your messages but you were probably just overthinking about everything as always.
You had no idea how long you had been asleep but when you woke up hearing the front door closing, light was dimly shining in through the blinds. Confused, you sat up in bed and looked for your phone. Almost 10am. Jared had sent two messages.
"Sorry, he's not with me:( trying to call now"
"Couldn't reach him, please let me know when he's home"
You could hear Jensen's heavy footsteps downstairs but decided to stay in bed. Mostly to see if he'd come upstairs to wake you. But he didn't, so you threw on a pair of fluffy slippers and a sweater and went downstairs. The smell of fresh coffee hit you as soon you opened the bedroom door.
You tried to stay mad at him longer, for making you worry but when you heard him humming in the kitchen, you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. He sat at the island with his back towards you, so that gave you a perfect chance to sneak up on him. You hugged him from behind and he flinched.
"Jesus!" He quietly muttered under his breath. "Nope, just me. I missed you!" You whispered into his ear and kissed his stubbly cheek. "You scared me. I thought you were working today. Didn't see your car out." He sounded almost disappointed.
"Sorry." You smiled apologetically. " Didn't I told you that I'm taking the weekend off? We can spend it together before you have to go back." You turned around to pour yourself some coffee. "Did you your flight got delayed? I thought you were coming home on Thursday."
While you were searching for creamer from the fridge, you didn't notice Jensen tensing up at your question. You grabbed your cup and sat down across from him, looking at him questionably.
"No, it's just- I-" he started evasively. " I just needed some time alone." You stared at him in disbelief. "What?" You asked laughing half-heartedly. "Jensen, we haven't seen each other for two months and you needed more time alone?"
"Did I do or say something?" You asked after a minute of trying to process what he told you. "You've been almost completely ignoring me for the past weeks. Actually it seems like few months even. I feel like-" You reached for his hand across the table but he pulled back. "I feel like I'm losing you." He took a deep breath in and leaned back in his chair. "I thought- hoped actually- that you were working today, so I could figure it out how to tell you." Your breathing quickened. "Tell me what?"
Jensen looked straight into your eyes. "I'm going to file for a divorce." The coldness in his gaze and tone cut deep. You got confused for a second and squared you shoulders, forcing back tears, that were threatening to spill. You did not expect that. "But what- I mean why? Because I started talking more about having kids?" You had hoped the timing was right for the two of you to start trying at least. You had been together for over five years, married close to two now. Of course you wanted to have kids with him one day.
"I wanted to start family too but- " he stopped, looking for the right words. "I guess people change."
You scoffed. People change. People do change, but it doesn't happen almost overnight like this.
Your thoughts started to run now in one direction only. You were kicking and cursing yourself internally for allowing you even think this. "Is there someone else?" You asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Jensen's face turned stoic. "Does it matter? It's not gonna change anything." He shrugged. Anger was already slowly boiling inside you and that was the last straw.
"Of course it fucking matters, Jensen! If you're cheating on me, the least you could do is to man up and tell the truth." You snapped poisonously, got up from the chair and turned around to leave the kitchen.
"Fuck me." He muttered quietly and called after you bit louder. "Okay. Yes, I cheated on you. There. Do you feel better now?" He asked, sarcasm in his voice unmissable.
You immediately felt sick to your stomach. You turned around to face him again. "Do I feel better? Are you serious?" You were truly astounded and didn't even know how to react to his confession. You couldn't stay there anymore. You walked out of the room and tears finally broke loose. Jensen got up from his chair to follow.
"No! Just leave me alone. Please. I can't do this right now. I'll get out of here and-" you let out a sharp breath "-go to, I don't know, to Elaine's or something. "
"Of course.." he whispered. "Y/N, come on. Don't act like you're without blame here. You-" You cut into his sentence.
"How could you even say that? What did I do for you to go and cheat on me?" You hissed back at him and entered your bedroom. Jensen followed and sat on the bed, as he stared after you walking into the closet and pulling out a suitcase. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Please. Come sit down." You ignored him and started to pack your clothes. "I'll get rest of my stuff next week." You sniffled. "When you're back at work or something."
You folded your clothes sloppily and refused to look at him when he joined you in there. This was not the weekend you had imagined when he said he'll be coming back home. You were excited to finally see him again and just be together and do nothing. You had missed your husband for a long time. Apparently, he did not miss you. You quickly wiped the tears away, when Jensen came to stand behind you and put his hands on your shoulders to turn you around. "Please, Y/N. I want to talk about this. To explain."
Trying to calm yourself down, you looked straight into his eyes. "Okay. Talk."
"No. Come sit down." He nodded to the bed. He tried to guide you towards the bed but you shrugged off his hand and sat down on the bed. Leaning against the headboard, you pulled your knees to your chest. Two of you sat there for few minutes before Jensen started talking. "I really don't know how else to say it. And I don't expect you to believe but I didn't mean to hurt you this way. I'm sorry." His voice was quiet.
"I'm sorry I was such an asshole before. You just caught me off guard and I didn't know how to react."
You still couldn't wrap your mind around it. What went wrong with the two of you? "You're right. I don't believe you. You do not sleep with someone by accident. I'd try to understand- "
"Y/N, I-" You raised one hand to stop him. "No, Jensen, let me talk please. I'd try to understand you if it was just about having kids. I'd try to somehow accept it. But cheating? This was something you chose to do. And this probably wasn't a one time thing either, right?" His silence gave you the answer to your question. You nodded knowingly. "That's what I thought. You did this over and over. While I waited for you at home. Alone. Do you really think your apology will make me feel better?" You took a deep breath, silent tears were rolling down your cheeks again. Last few months had been especially hard without him. Work had gotten crazy with your boss demanding more and more from you. Yes, you had your friends and sister you kept in contact with regularly, but still at nights you felt alone.
"Is that why you're leaving me? To move on with someone new?" You noticed Jensen tearing up. But still he didn't answer. "Jensen, please. Why can't you just tell me?" He said nothing so you got back up to finish packing. You didn't see the need to sit there and wait for him to answer. "Fine. You say you want to talk, but still won't talk to me, so I'll just go." You threw few more items from the closet into the suitcase and closed it up.
"Y/N, this is your home. You don't have to leave." He finally spoke up. "Well, I can't stay here either." You walked to the bathroom to pack some toiletries. This time Jensen didn't follow you. You closed the door and sat down on the floor. You felt a pressuring pain on the back of your head, but tried to think through it, to figure out your next steps. Of course you didn't want to actually leave, but staying in the house you and Jensen worked hard on to turn into home, would've been even harder. So you chose the easier of the two.
With a deep breath, you pulled out your phone and dialed your sister's number. She has always been very protective over you, so you knew, if you'd tell her about Jensen on the phone, she'd be over in a heartbeat to kick his ass. And he wasn't worth troubling her that much. "Hey, El. Are you busy this weekend?" You tried to sound cheerful, but you couldn't even convince yourself so she'd definitely see through it. "Hey! Not too busy. Why?" She sounded worried already. "I got an awesome idea, involving you, me, bottle of rosé and probably us passing out on your couch. How's that sound?"
She laughed at your proposal. "Definitely have time for that! What's up? Boy troubles?" You sighed and tried to compose yourself. "You could say that." She groaned loudly.
For some reason Jensen and Elaine always had some kind of beef between them. They managed to remain somewhat civil around you but when you were alone with either of them, they just couldn't hold back on straight on bitching about the other. Which was the main cause of your headaches for the past years and made the family gatherings rather uncomfortable. Well, two less things for you to worry about now.
"Do I have come over and kick his ass? Because you know I would." She said this jokingly, but you knew that there was some truth hidden there. "No! I'll be over soon. See you!"
"Oh, he really messed up this time, huh?" She asked and followed it up quickly. "Well, bring snacks then!" There was a short pause on the line. "And more wine. Maybe some cake? I'll do the counseling, I think I'll deserve some afterwards."
"Of course. Thank you. Alright, see you soon." You said quietly.
You ended the call and reality pulled you back in. Talking with Elaine always calmed you down. Made you forget your problems, even if just for a moment. You sighed deeply and got up to now actually pack up some necessities.
Few minutes later you stood at the bathroom door, staring at Jensen, sitting on the bed, head down in his hands. You wanted nothing more right now than to just get out of the house. But there was still one question that needed to be answered. You sat down next to him and took one of his hand into yours. "Please look at me." You turned his face gently towards you.
You wanted to stay mad at him.
Scream at him.
Punch him for hurting you this way.
But looking at him, you just couldn't. "It'd be probably better for me not to ask but I need to know this, Jensen. How long were you having the affair for, before you told me?" You looked into his eyes and waited for the band-aid to be ripped. But nothing could've prepared you for this.
"I'm really really sorry, Y/N. I realize that it doesn't have any worth to you anymore but still I hope you know that I am." He said turning his body towards you. You remained silent and waited for him to continue. "But I- it started just after New Years." You pulled away your hands. You knew you should've let it go. "So almost for a year you came home to me like nothing was wrong?" You asked shakily and let out a sharp breath. Your ears started ringing. He really is an amazing actor, you thought to yourself.
You didn't know whether to cry or be relieved that the truth was out. Now there was nothing holding you back from leaving. You stood up and so was up again the wall around you. The wall that took Jensen forever to break down in the first place. "Ahem, so, uh-" you had trouble finding the words. "I think I've heard what I needed to- you know..move on, I guess." A forced smile grew on your face that didn't reach your eyes. "You can send whatever the papers you need me to sign to my workplace." You took your things and walked out of the room.
Looking around in the living room, you realized how much you're actually going to miss this house. All the memories of the late night trips to the hardware stores during fixing up the house came back to you. You were definitely more of a distraction than help for Jensen at that time. But the arguments over the tone of the flooring and style of the kitchen cabinets resulted usually in hot make up sex in the shower. Which you felt was really your only purpose of picking those fights with him. These memories brought a sad smile onto your lips. Now you refused to call this home, because your home was Jensen. And you didn't have him anymore.
"Are you sure you're not staying here? I'm leaving in two days. You can have the house." He had followed you so quietly, you almost didn't notice him standing behind you.
"No, the house is not what I want." You laughed unhumorously and turned around to face him. Jensen pulled you into a tight hug and just held you close. And you let him do just that.
Everything still seemed as you were in a bad dream. All you wished right now was to wake up. But there was nothing to wake up from. As the realization dawned on you, you almost broke down again. Pushing your face into his chest, you desperately tried to hold yourself together. Leaving him is be the hardest thing you've had to do.
Focus, Y/N, you can cry when you're out of here, you tried to talk yourself down. Put on a brave face in front him, so he wouldn't see how broken you actually are.
"I'm sorry." He whispered and kissed the top of your head.
You took a deep breath and looked up at him. "Yeah, I'm sorry, too." After giving him a last hug, you pulled away from him. "I want to hate you right now, Jensen. So much." You laughed lightly through your words. "But I don't think I'll be able to, not before I stop loving you." He gave you a sympathetic look, and you saw that he was hurting too. You stroked his cheek gently. "And I will always love you." You stood up on your toes and pressed a kiss on his lips for the last time. With a heavy sigh you turned away to grab your purse, coat and car keys. "I want the best for you. Truly." You said standing on the door. With a one last look at him, you smiled and stepped out of the house.
Before going to Elaine's, you did a quick stop at a grocery store. Today you felt like not giving a damn, you will get drunk with your sister this afternoon. You picked up more wine and sweet and savory snacks, cake and some fruit. Definitely too much food for the two of you.
"Someone's having a party, huh?" Cashier asked you with a smile on her face.
"Oh, yeah, mhmm, big party tonight."
After packing up your groceries, you dialed El's number again.
"Hey, just got out of store. Be there in 10."
"Alrighty, should I find some glasses for us?" What a dumb question.
"Don't ask stupid questions and come outside to help me with things."
Little while later, two of you were sitting on the couch. "So. Talk to me, Y/N." She snuggled in closer to you. You swirled wine around in the glass and stared into nothing. "Jensen and I are divorcing." You didn't want to look at her and she waited silently for you to continue. "But hey- it's a well known fact that half of marriages end in divorce so-" You tried to lighten your mood but failed miserably at that. "I guess we were just on the wrong side of that equation."
She took the wine glass from you and put both on the table.
"Come here, sweetie." She pulled you into tight embrace as both of you laid on the couch. "I know that's yet another stupid question from me but how are you feeling? Honest answers only."
"Hurt. Disappointed. Sad. I just want to be angry with him, but I can't." You sat up. "He- he found someone new, you know? Well.. He didn't exactly say that but I guess so." Elaine huffed angrily. "He cheated on you?" You nodded silently and topped up your glasses. You could only imagine what was going through her head in that moment. Certainly she'd want to say "I told you so". You waited for any kind of reaction from her, so you sat there in a silence for a while, until she spoke again. "That lying piece of sh-" You interrupted your sisters swearing. "Stop. No, he's really not that." You said smiling sorrowfully.
"Why are you so calm about this? I'd be livid right now. Hell, I am! He betrayed you."
"If he feels like he's happier with someone other than me, then I won't stand in his way." You said quietly. "It hurts like hell, but I won't be some petty ass bitch to him because of that. I just don't have it in me." She laughed at you. "Yeah, you don't. I'd probably be keying his car right now."
You sighed, feeling the light buzz from the wine starting to take over you. "I thought getting drunk with you would make me feel better but what I really want right now, is to sleep. For a week at least. I just can't think of anything else right now."
She got up from the couch, reaching her hand out to you. "Come."
"What? Where?" Your brows furrowed in confusion, but nonetheless you got up.
"You want to sleep, so let's go to sleep." Elaine said so matter-of-factly.
"But didn't you have any plans today?" She pulled you into a tight hug. "Yeah, I did, but you are more important."
Read part 2 here!
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— SWEET KANSAS HONEY
SUMMARY : invited by her friend to a bee farm, but Dean wasn’t invited to their cute day out. Dean gets pouty… and, ya know, horny.
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : lavender mcclenic (oc), athena fonseca (oc)
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), phone sex, dirty talk, sexting, voice kink, masturbation
WORD COUNT : 1.5k
A/N : jamies elsewhere song title. this fills the free space square on my @jacklesversebingo card. lavender is based off of my best friend (athena is based off her gf) we have fictional plans to live on a farm, and have a tunnel connecting our houses LOL xxx
“Ah, this is exactly what we said our future would look like,” Y/n grinned, fixing the sunglasses on her face. She turned to face her friend, who did the same, walking towards the little shed where they could change into protective gear.
“Not really,” Lavender laughed, “you’ve got a boyfriend you love with all your cheesy heart. We don’t have a tunnel under our house like we said we’d have,” she listed, playfully. Y/n rolled her eyes and kicked the door open gently, sliding her foot along the bottom of the door as she stepped in before Lavender, looking around curiously.
“Well, at least we’re still here, on a farm, makin’ money,” Y/n grinned, letting the door shut once her friend was inside collecting the white suits for them to slip into. Y/n placed her phone on the wooden table inside, the walls decorated with tools, and other items she didn’t know how to use.
She changed quietly with Lavender, lifting the white suit over her regular clothes. They looked up at the same time and bursted out laughing for no reason at all. They were both bad at emotions, at least at saying them out loud, but Y/n had a feeling that laughter was a wordless I missed you. The phone on the table buzzed and Lavender looked over curiously when Y/n didn’t look.
“It’s that boyfriend of yours,” Lavender teased, “you were so against dating, remember that?” Y/n shook her head and laughed, making sure she was ready to leave as Lav finished up.
“Whatever. So were you,” she dismissed, grabbing her phone with bare hands at the text notification with Dean’s name. She smiled, but she didn’t open it, and Dean sent another message. Her smile got wider.
“We grew up then,” her friend suggested, walking towards the door to open it with her back.
“Sort of, I still like bees and honey,” Y/n told her, taking her own gloves before following her friend out.
“And I still think we should build a tunnel connecting our two houses. There’s plenty of land. I’d… do anything for you,” Lav hesitated with the last part, her cheeks turning pink.
“Lav… that’s sweet, but-”
“The offer stands. Five years, or tomorrow—until we lose it all.” Lavender waved her hand to dismiss it and walked faster to avoid the embarrassment of being, well, loving. Dean texted her once more and she groaned softly. Either it’s an emergency or Dean’s just trying to get her attention.
“I’m gonna…” Y/n trailed off and Lavender turned around and tilted her head at her friend. She lifted her phone and shook it.
“Yeah, go, before I embarrass us both and keep saying sappy shit like that. I need a cleanse,” Lavender grunted, meeting her girlfriend who had the honey collecting tools on standby.
“Me too,” Y/n smiled, then turned around to check Dean’s messages.
dean : Good morning, sexy, it’s been fifteen hours since I last saw you and I’m bored. So bored. How did I go through my childhood without you? :((
She laughed softly.
dean : I woke up early and I was so cold because you weren’t sleeping next to me.
Liar. He wears socks, pyjama pants, and a Henley to sleep. He’s the one who provides the warmth. Of course, he was just trying to be cute. And it was working.
dean : I did a whole bunch of chores though. I cooked. Took Miracle out for a walk. Cleaned our room. And the Dean Cave. But I’m done now.
She smiled as she imagined him doing all of that. He’s undeniably adorable. He knew that. He knew how much he meant to her. She saw three speech bubbles appear, so she waited for his next message.
dean : Oh. Hi, baby. I see you’re reading my texts now. I just want you to know… I’m picturing you coming home with a whole bunch of honey. And guess what? I’m licking it off your body. Yummy.
She bit her lip as heat bloomed across her face.
me : Good morning, handsome. I miss you, too. You’ve finished doing all that? Why don’t you watch a movie now? Read one of those books you’ve been wanting to read. Go to that bar that serves your favourite nachos, boys’ night out. I’ve got loads of suggestions if you run out.
me : Also, you weren’t cold, but that’s cute.
me : Second also, you can’t text things like that when we’re not together… very naughty, I don’t appreciate it. X
She saw the speech bubble again and she bit her lip, looking across at Athena and Lavender laughing together while they scraped the panels for honey. She smiled at them and missed Dean even more.
She didn’t expect to see a photo. Not one quite like the one Dean sent.
“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, looking back up. She clicked the photo anyway, a smile growing on her face, and arousal dampening her underwear.
Dean was in the shower.
Of course he’d take his phone with him. Of course he’d take the chance to get off. He had a high sex drive. He was daring. Unafraid. And he knew how hot he was. Especially all naked and wet. With his body all taut and flushed pink from the heat of the water. With his face distorted in delicious pleasure as he touched himself, his lip plump and trapped beneath his cute teeth. With his hand wrapped tightly around his cock.
dean : I fig read what you seny
She laughed softly. And decided to call him instead. He picked up instantly. She heard the water falling against tile and skin before she heard his heavy breaths or his husky voice.
“Dean,” she whispered, her cheeks on fire.
“Hi, babe,” Dean moaned and she gasped, her stomach twisting with excitement. “I was expecting a text, a photo, not a phone call, but, uh, I appreciate it.” She shook her head, listening closely to the loud, lewd, sound of his wet hand moving quickly along his cock.
“You’re jerking off?” She blurted out, looking up at Lavender and Athena who were waving her over impatiently. She smiled at them and nodded, putting her finger up.
“Mmm, my morning’s been good, too. Well, kinda, thanks for asking, beautiful,” he replied sarcastically, moaning occasionally as he spoke. Her clit pulse and she squeezed her thighs to stop the discomfort of her arousal.
“Dean…” She moaned, but there was a hint of hesitation that he picked up on. He groaned.
“I’ll hang up, but please, text me something dirty so I get at least a bit of reality in my fantasy,” he begged. She heard him swear quietly and then he laughed breathlessly.
She closed her eyes and thought about what to do. What to say. He sounded so hot, groaning and moaning her name, pumping his cock through his fingers faster and faster.
“Dean,” she purred. He hummed softly, distracted by his pleasure. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” she instructed, smirking when he groaned long and loud. “I want to hear you, baby. Fuck, I wish I could see you. I wish I had you in my mouth right now so I can swallow every ounce of your cum.” Dean cursed loudly, brokenly moaning her name as he came.
He panted into the phone and she bit her lip, waiting patiently for him to recompose himself.
“Ah, fuck,” he murmured and she lifted a brow curiously. “That was hot, baby. We should do it often. Like… even when you are here. I’ll be in the dungeon and you can be in the garage,” he laughed softly to himself and she rolled her eyes. “I miss you. I know it hasn't been that long and that I’ve been sleeping for a majority of the time… I guess I’m just not used to being alone anymore. Without you. I’m sorry for interrupting your time with your friend.”
Her smile softened. “I miss you, too, Dean. And it’s okay… I’ll be back Sunday evening. That’s tomorrow, by the way,” she teased and Dean laughed shyly.
“You didn’t say yes or no to my idea,” he reminded her.
She smiled. “Of course it’s a yes.”
“How about tonight? Can we set up a time for it?” He asked excitedly, then the water shut off, and she heard his wet footsteps, then the soft sound of his towel.
“Yes, I’ll text you,” she breathed out. “Now, stop doing… whatever it was that turned you on, and get some proper work done,” she laughed, putting one glove on as she prepared to go with her friends.
“I… just got horny suddenly when I was taking a break. I was reading… ya know, All About Love,” he hesitated.
“What? Why?” She laughed, but she knew him well, and she’d read the book. “Stop thinking of me. It makes me wet,” she pouted playfully and he laughed again. “And next time you take a break, don’t touch your dick… Until I tell you to do so,” she added with a grin.
“I love you.” She could hear the smile in Dean’s voice, the open and shut of doors.
“I love you, Dean,” she responded lovingly. She could hear him breath softly and hum shyly, a whispered bye, and she hung up.
“Wow, you just throw around the L word, now, eh?” Lavender teased as Y/n walked closer to them, ready to join them. Y/n laughed sarcastically and Athena giggled.
“Shut up,” Y/n grumbled, playfully snatching the tool in Lavender’s hand to help them out.
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Crazy, Stupid, Love
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Summary: When Dean has to work at a café to learn infos on a hunt, he thinks it's the worst. Until he meets her. At first, she's only kind of an annoying coworker. But an unfortunate event brings them closer, and Dean starts feeling things for her. If it's love, he doesn't know. But for the first time, he starts wondering how it would feel to have a normal life. A normal job. And a normal relationship. But first, he needs to get her revenge against that shitty boss.
Note: this happens in the begining of season one
Word Count: 9k
Pairing: Dean x F!Reader
Content Warning: Toxic work place, rude customer, humiliation, bullying, swearing
Squares: Humiliation for @hurtcomfort-bingo,/ Revenge for @jacklesversebingo
A/n: I'm gonna be honest, at first, I didn't want to post this fic. When I saw the attention the last few fics I took so much time to write got, it made me sad... But then I remembered how much fun I had with this one, so decided to post it in case someone else has the same fun reading it. ALSO! This was for @eevvvaa writing challenge! I picked the movie Crazy Stupid Love but actually used the quotes! They will be in bold in the text. Happy reading!
Usually, this situation would have upset him. After all, he was stuck here 8 hours per day, 5 days per week and always finished too late to go to the nearest bar afterwards. It also wasn’t the best first real job to have, as it was lame, boring, and always the same thing. But working at a café also had its advantages.
Like the beautiful barista that he had the chance to see on his first day. She was leaving, as she was only working mornings, and he was working evenings, but Dean couldn’t detach his eyes from her. Beautiful body, hair immaculate even after 8 hours of wearing a net, skin tanned to perfection.
“Oh great, another one.”
That wasn’t the girl he was talking about. No, the girl that just spoke was Y/n. At first glance, she looked like the manager. With the most seniority in here, she knew how things were done and how to do them quickly. But she was no boss. To make her agree to be his trainer and show him the basics, the real boss had to insist a lot. He didn’t know all the details, though, but she ended up accepting.
It was for a hunt. Otherwise, Dean would never be here. Sam said there was something weird in the neighborhood, and that the best way to discover what was going on was to talk with the community. And the best place to have conversations with people that didn’t want to talk with the police was of course at the local café. All the rumors and crispy details of the town were floating in there. The reason why it wasn’t Sam doing the whole barista thing was as simple as upsetting.
“Dean, you have all the charm. People- ladies- will open up to you like blooming flowers in the spring.”
Ugh.
Back to the present, Dean ignored Y/n’s comment and tilted his head to the side, still eyeing the morning employee that was leaving. “What do I have to do to get on the morning shift?”
A groan of annoyance resonated behind him. His smile fell. He was stuck with her for a while, as they were both working evening shifts.
Alone together.
-
There were 60 seconds in one minute. And 60 minutes in one hour. A shift lasted 8 hours here. That was way too many seconds to spend doing nothing but wait to leave.
All that was in his head was the hot chick he kept seeing since he started working here. After only bumping into her these past 2 weeks, Dean finally decided to ask her on a date. And since he was Dean Winchester, no one could tell him no. And the same day, after his shift, he would meet her in front of the pizza place that was two blocks away.
And he couldn’t stop looking at the clock, head in his hand, hoping that staring at it would make the time go faster.
“I asked for a hot caramel latte with almond milk and no foam, what the hell is this?!”
It was near the end. In 15 minutes, the shop would be closed and then it was cleaning time. Weeping the floor, throwing away the remaining food that was not sold, washing the dishes, etc. That was always his favorite part, because even if Y/n was a pain in the ass as his supervisor, she was chill and allowed him to choose the radio station while they cleaned and he could leave once his part was done.
At first, the voice didn’t alert him, and Dean kept on making himself busy with cleaning tables that didn’t need it. But then, something broke, the sound heavy of meaning, and he was on alert. Every fiber of his body was on and he turned to the source of the sound.
Right at the counter, there was a man with his back to him. Without seeing his face, Dean knew he was angry. Pissed, even. At his feet, a broken cup, porcelain in pieces covered the floor soaked in coffee. Two steps allowed Dean to know what the man was looking at, and when he saw her…
He immediately rushed without thinking.
“I’m gonna ask you to leave, sir,” Dean put his hand on the customer’s shoulder, which made him jump. The man turned to him and aggressively stepped back.
“Don’t touch me,” the man hissed. “You’re working here, huh?” He looked up and down at Dean, noticing the apron of the café he was wearing. “Must be the manager here. Well, your employee here is worthless, you should be careful who you hire, for fuck sake!”
At that, Dean couldn’t help but wince. That was unnecessary rude to say. He glanced at Y/n again and felt his heartbeat with pain. Her head was down, probably to hide tears. That was probably not the first time she had to serve asshole customers, but it was the first time Dean noticed it. Working in customer service was not easy at all, you had to be strong to endure all of that everyday.
He only knew Y/n for about two weeks, but he already knew a lot about her. She was calm. Kind. She cared about doing her job right. Yeah, she was a bit bossy and used every opportunity to send subtle little insults towards Dean just enough to annoy him, like how he couldn’t even do a coffee, in this economy? But it was never mean and he liked that side of her that didn’t let people step on her toes. But right now, in front of that man? She was small. She wanted to hide. It wasn’t the Y/n he knew.
“I’m not the boss,” Dean answered finally, placing his gaze back on the man. “But we’re closed, so I’m gonna ask you to leave.”
The rude customer was the last one in the café, so it wasn’t like he was breaking any rules. And he was Dean Winchester. He made the rules.
Red seemed to eat at the man’s face so much he was angry. “Not before I get what I fucking paid for!” He started yelling. Dean didn’t mind being screamed at, he was used to it with his dad, how sad it sounded. But when the man turned to Y/n to yell at her, Dean couldn’t hold himself back. “You useless cunt!”
“I said, out!” Dean grabbed the customer by the neck and quickly sent him backwards. His legs met the table right behind him, but it wasn’t enough to make him understand. The man lunged forward in an attempt to hit Dean, but he didn’t know.
Dean was waiting for it.
The fist missed, and the man stumbled into the void and collapsed on the floor like a clown.
“This isn’t over,” the man growled and got up. Sure he would strike again, Dean was ready to fight. But this time, the fist didn’t miss. The pain came later, a few seconds after the hunter realized he got hit in the face. Fortunately for his ego, Dean managed to stay on his feet and not fall pathetically on the floor.
He reached for the wound.
It was right near his left eye, it would bruise for sure.
With deadly flames in his green eyes, he looked at his target.
“Oh, you’re dead.”
The rest happened quickly.
Dean decided he wouldn’t hold back anymore. As his head throbbed with ache and anger, he was about to hit with everything he got. But at the last moment, something interrupted him. A body, warm, soft, encircling his own, stopped him from moving.
“Please stop…”
Her voice woke him up completely. Shaking, she put herself between the two men to stop the fight even if she was scared.
The man took the opportunity to run away, the bell chiming behind him as the door closed violently.
A long silence followed the departure of the aggressive customer. A couple of seconds passed, then minutes, before she realized there was no silence actually. Things were happening around her, words were spoken, and the only person besides her was running around locking doors and closing blinds, cursing every word he could think of at the moment.
Her hearing was nothing but a shrill sound, almost painful, like she was deaf. It took another minute and him calling her name for her to come back to the present.
"You okay? He didn't hurt you?" Dean was kneeling in front of her. She finally noticed she was sitting down on a chair. Shaking her head, she tapped her hands in her face to finish waking herself up from her slumber.
"You're hurt and you ask me if I'm okay?" She stood up as she spoke, Dean doing the same. Then she seemed to disappear in the backstore to come back with a bag of frozen vegetables they used for the soup. "Sit down," she instructed.
Dean would have been impressed by her capacity to focus after such an event, especially with how she was a couple of seconds ago, but he knew better. She wouldn't meet his gaze, her head was down, and when he glanced at her hands, it was to see them shake.
"Y/n-"
"Oh, come on, sit down, your masculinity won't suffer too much, I just want to check," she rolled her eyes and almost pushed him to the chair. Dean let himself be moved around with a smirk. That was the Y/n he knew. "There, it's not that bad, huh?"
"It's no big deal," he tried to convince her, after all, as a hunter, he got hurt more than once before and healed perfectly fine. But when he saw her, he understood. And he let himself be checked by her only for her. To reassure her it was nothing, it was fine, it would bruise into a black eye and nothing else.
"Okay, it's not that bad," she sighed in relief as she said that.
"Told you," Dean snickered with a smile. "Ouch!"
The frozen bag was now on his bruise and Y/n was turning her back to him. His first instinct was to ask her if she was okay, check on her, after all, she seemed pretty shaken up, but he knew she needed time, that was all.
"We should call the police," Dean ended up saying. Usually, he would never propose that, but the customer was human. A monster in some sort, but completely human, so the police could take care of it.
"No!" She turned harshly towards Dean, surprising him.
"Why not?"
Pacing back and forth, Y/n seemed to get lost in her thoughts. "It's not necessary, I doubt the customer will come back, and it would put the cafe in a bad spot, we would lose customers and…"
Again, Dean knew. Y/n was a good employee, she loved doing her job right, but she hated the place, hated the menu and the disgusting coffee served here, and hated the management. But they were the ones giving her her salary at the end of the month, so she couldn't disappoint them.
"I can deal with the boss," Dean said, standing up, the bag still on his eye.
In front of him, Y/n sadly shook her head. "It won't be necessary." She pointed at one corner of the cafe. Then another. "There's cameras around, and he loves to watch. Loves to tell us everything we do wrong. He probably already knows it happened. We'll see tomorrow, I guess," she sighed. Then, like a thought crossed through her head, she lifted her head completely and crossed gaze with Dean. "Your date! You're gonna be late!"
Dean wanted to laugh. So badly. Of course, he talked to her about it. Kristina, their coworker from the morning shift and Dean's date, was waiting for him. But after what happened, it completely got out of his head. Smiling, he shook his head and placed the bag of defrosting vegetables on the table beside him.
"I'll call her, say something came up. She'll understand."
Y/n cringed, biting her lips and frowning. "I don't think she cares enough to understand. But you're cute and sexy so maybe she'll forgive your ass."
Immediately after saying those words, Y/n became a puddle of embarrassment. Her body flushed with the realization of what she just admitted.
"Really?" Dean would not let that go. "You think I'm the perfect combination of sexy and cute ?"
"Shut up," she murmured between her teeth, grabbing the nearest thing, the cloth he was using to clean the tables, to throw it at him. "Get out of here your shift is over."
"Yeah," Dean surprised himself by what he said next. "But I won't let you walk back home alone. Consider me your cute and sexy bodyguard," he laughed at her reaction, but it was nothing compared to the sound leaving his mouth when he received another cloth on the head. "Hey, this one was wet"
"Oops!"
-
The next day started pretty badly. After a complicated night with barely any sleep and lots of nightmares, Y/n got up early to get ready. Even if her shift started at 3pm, she knew the phone would ring and the ruthless voice of her boss would order her to come in to talk.
About what happened.
It was not even noon when it happened. She was at her third coffee, so she had energy even if she felt dead inside. Since she was already dressed, all she had to do was grab her stuff and head to the cafe. Like usual, she had to walk since she didn't have enough savings to buy a car.
The weather was quite nice, compared to how gloomy she was feeling. It was warm and sunny outside. Y/n barely made a step out, locking her door, that a loud engine startled her. The sun was reflecting strongly on the hood, blinding her as she walked with caution towards it, and for a moment she thought maybe it was the customer that found her and came to finish what he started. Fortunately she recognized the car quickly, as it was the same car that drove her home last night.
A 67 chevy impala.
It was even more beautiful than when she saw it yesterday.
The drive to the cafe was quiet, apart from the chichats. How are you? Do you feel better? So, did he call you too? Usually, Y/n would have commented on something random just to annoy Dean, but when he turned his head towards her at a red light to ask her a question, she saw the bruise around his eyes, reminding her of the night before and how everything was her fault. If only she hadn't messed up the order…
Once parked in front of the cafe, Dean stopped the engine to turn to Y/n. "Hey," he said in a calm and steady voice. "Whatever happens there, it was neither our fault."
"I appreciate it, Dean, but it was. I was in charge, even though I told the boss more than once that I didn't want to be, so what happens on my shift is my fault." Without leaving him time to answer, she opened the door and left the car to enter the cafe.
The moment she stepped inside, a loud silence echoed around her. Every employee stopped chatting to stare at her, the customers mimicking their actions, wondering what was so much more interesting than getting their order right and fast.
Y/n hated that. The attention. The eyes on her. The silence. Her body started shaking, both with anger and humiliation, the tears almost painful to hold back. But then, as she was about to step towards the boss' office, a warmth settled on her shoulder, stopping the tremors at once. And a voice she was starting to grow fond of whispered near her ear.
"Ignore them. They don't matter right now."
With Dean, she felt safe. Strong. Like she could do everything and never feel afraid anymore. That was until they were sitting in the office in front of the boss.
“Y/n, I am wildly disappointed with you. What you did was beyond unprofessional, and I can’t believe I have to do this. You’re suspended.”
It was nothing less than what she expected from her boss. Since working there, she had done everything to stay in his good graces, sometimes doing other people's jobs to compensate. Everything to keep the restaurant clean and to continue serving fresh food every day. It wasn't Kristina who would write down expiration dates on perishable products, or place the new arrival of breads behind the ones already there to prevent the oldest ones from remaining at the bottom of the shelf, covered in mold. If this place passed the health inspection every year, it was thanks to Y/n’s efforts, efforts that no one had ever noticed or considered.
It was probably better that way.
Head bowed, Y/n took a harsh breath and opened her mouth to apologize and admit her boss was right. However, the words could not come out of her mouth fast enough, because someone else was already speaking.
“This is bullshit,” Dean exclaimed. A quick glance in his direction, and Y/n could see his hands forming fists on his thighs. “Y/n did everything perfectly, it’s not her fault if customers don’t respect anything, not even themselves!”
“Dean, I think you're new here,” the boss replied with a calmness that didn't mean anything good. Y/n tried to draw Dean's attention to her to signal him to shut up, that it was nothing, that she could survive a week suspended, but the young man paid her no mind. And one look at his face showed her the same anger she had seen in him the previous evening, when he had decided to defend himself against the customer. “I watched the surveillance cameras carefully. Your reactions with this client, although undoubtedly intended to be heroic, were completely unacceptable. The next time you make a mistake, you will suffer the same fate as Y/n. For now, take your day, see you on Monday, Dean.”
"That's all?!" This time, Dean stood up as he spoke. “Y/n gets suspended, and I only get a warning and a day off? What the f-”
“Thank you,” Y/n quickly cut him off, grabbing his arm firmly to silence him. Strangely, like the day before, her intervention seemed to calm Dean down very quickly. “See you next week.”
As she was about to leave, her hand still holding Dean's wrist to drag him out of the office, a voice called out to her.
"Two weeks. See you in two weeks.”
It took a lot of control for her to say nothing. The inside of her cheek hurt from how hard she bit it, dragging Dean out of the office and then out of the restaurant. It was only once outside, far from prying ears and vulture eyes, that she was finally able to breathe.
“FUCKING BULLSHIT! FUCK YOU!” Suddenly came out of her mouth. If Dean still had any anger at that moment, it suddenly vanished when he heard so many curses coming out with so much anger from the usually calm Y/n. “Oh. It feels better."
Having never seen her like this, it took several seconds for Dean to compose himself. Large green eyes were fixed on her, wide, shocked, even, until a good hit on the arm woke him up completely. "Ouch!" He rubbed his arm as if it hurt even though her fist had barely tickled him.
“What the fuck was that, seriously?! Talk to the boss like that? You’re born stupid or you’re just too dumb to think, fuck, Dean!”
Still as surprised and shocked, Dean didn't respond immediately. Y/n was angry. More, even. Beyond pissed. Which was completely normal under the circumstances, except Y/n wasn't normally angry. She could get upset, complain about the system, the management, the customers, or how she was the only one doing all the little things that made the café special and comfortable, but she was never angry.
“I couldn’t let him talk to you that way, I just couldn’t,” Dean explained calmly. It was quite rare for him to be the calm one in a heated argument. But in this case, he knew he had to keep his own rage to himself, she didn't need more anger. She needed to speak, to expel this emotion out of her like a demon that needed to be exorcized.
“Well, that was fucking stupid,” she pointed at him, her gaze meeting his. This surprised him again. Y/n was shy, although she was a good leader, and he noticed she had trouble looking people in the eye for several seconds. She always ended up looking away, and he knew it wasn't because she was dishonest, but rather that she was afraid of the judgment in the eyes of others. So that she was yelling at him while staring right at him… That surprised Dean again and made him speechless.
For a few seconds, he forgot that he was being told off by a girl for defending her, and lost himself in the contemplation of her magnificent orbs. Since he had known her, he had never really seen them, or bothered to look at them.
And her eyes were beautiful, even filled with anger.
Probably noticing the eye contact was getting considerably long, Y/n finally broke the almost trance-like effect to gaze elsewhere.
“Have you had it long?”
She was still not looking at him. "What?"
“The uncontrollable need to save the damsel in distress.” The corner of her lips lifted up in a smirk.
“I-” He couldn’t tell her that this was actually his life. Saving the woman and the orphan, killing the monsters, it was so ingrained in his life that it was part of him.
“Come on,” she muttered, still not meeting his gaze, gesturing to him to follow her.
"Come on… Where?" It was the longest conversation he'd had with her, and it was only because she was angry, he remembered. He was here for a hunt, he had to learn more about the people of the town. Concentration and focus were required, but yet... This side of Y/n, her confidence, how she wasn't afraid to yell at him like that, when she was normally so gentle...
He liked that side of her. Not that he disliked the rest, it was just-
“I think you have tonight off, and I, well, the next two weeks.” Starting to walk towards the impala, she then stopped and turned her head just enough to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m going to help you rediscover your manhood. Do you have any idea where you could have lost it?”
A big smile stretched Dean's lips. This was the Y/n he knew. “Probably over there,” he pointed to the horizon. “Near the pizzeria. You hungry?”
-
The pizza was the most delicious thing that had passed Y/n's lips in a long time. Very greasy and dripping with cheese, the junk food was simply good after such a catastrophic day. And sharing this moment with his colleague, accomplice, even, and perhaps friend- if he wanted to- was the icing on the cake.
Her heart always beat a beat and a half faster when he was near her. And although she tried not to like him, not to get attached to what was clearly a bad boy who preferred girls like Kristina, who just hung out with her because he had free time… She simply couldn't deny it anymore. What her heart desired was starting to win over what reason screamed at her.
Don't fall in love.
And yet, as that evening at the pizzeria after her suspension turned into an almost daily routine, her heart prevailed. The crush she immediately had for the young man with emerald eyes and cheeks covered in a milky way of little freckles was slowly transforming into something deeper.
A week had passed since her suspension, it was Saturday again, and as usual, Y/n and Dean found themselves at the pizzeria. The owner himself now came to take their order, even though he already knew what the two wanted since they always ordered the same thing. Everything was going exactly as usual, Dean recounting his day at work, how slowly everything was going downhill without her.
“I worked with a new guy, and son of a bitch, I’ve never seen someone take their time so much. It’s like he did it on purpose,” Dean sipped his drink. Y/n’s gaze followed the movement of the Adam’s apple rising and falling as he swallowed. She was barely concentrating on what he was saying. “We had two complaints that the sandwich bread had mold, but the person in the kitchen didn't get in trouble for it. It’s like the boss knows that no matter the wait time, the quality of the food, or the attitude of the employees, the cafe will always make money since it’s the only one in town,” Dean let out a little laugh which only spread the butterflies in Y/n’s stomach. “Let me tell you that over the past week, some regulars have stopped coming. Oh, and many have asked where you’ve been.”
“It’s not surprising,” she finally answered after a few seconds of silence where only the chewing of Dean devouring his pizza could be heard. On the table, near the windows, the dessert was already there, two slices of pie that the owner had reserved for them knowing they were coming. Her gaze fell on the dessert as she spoke although she really wanted to look him in the eyes. Admiring the perfect color of his orbs, admiring how everything was perfect about him. It was so difficult. “What’s surprising is that the health inspection hasn’t closed this place yet.”
These words hung in the air for a moment, accompanied by silence. Finally glancing over at Dean, she found that he had stopped eating mid-bite, staring blankly at her. It was almost as if Y/n could see the gears moving in his mind.
“Yet.” That was all he said next, taking the time to finish his bite before continuing. "I have an idea."
“I could figure that much,” she laughed as she took her drink, anything to occupy her hands and look normal in his presence. Luckily he couldn't hear her heart thumping against her ribcage.
“We're going to avenge you,” he pointed ahead, at her, and that was enough for her eyes to move from his finger to his eyes. She managed to hold his gaze for several long seconds which seemed to her like hours of torture. "You'll see."
"See what? Oh, how cute,” a voice broke the bubble Y/n and Dean were in. She hadn't heard that voice in a week, and it had been the best thing her suspension had given her, except for all the time she'd spent with Dean since.
“Kristina,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes immediately going to her pizza. A weight seemed to settle on her chest, pressing down hard with its gigantic pressure.
“Hey,” Dean greeted her, and the pressure thumped harder against her heart. “How you doing, Kristina?”
His tone was kind. Friendly. Sweet. Just like he was with Y/n. But with a bonus, he was flirty.
Obviously.
She was not special.
“Oh, I'm doing well, much better,” she laughed. “Especially since Y/n isn’t at the café anymore. No one is ordering us around anymore, right, Dean?”
Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n could see movement. Raising her head just enough to have her in her sight without looking directly at her, she could see her hand on Dean's shoulder. Besides, she wasn't alone. Two other girls from the cafe were standing with her. Without looking at them, Y/n knew. She felt their gaze on her, burning, like vultures around prey.
“I actually liked working with Y/n,” Dean replied as calmly as ever. His words created a spark of hope in Y/n who this time looked directly at Dean. “It’s not as fun without her,” he continued.
“Oh,” Kristina laughed, and her two henchmen followed suit. “I know you want to stay in her good graces by saying all this,” she leaned towards him to whisper in his ear, but made no effort to lower her voice. “But you don’t need to. I think she's going to get fired. The customer came back to file a complaint against her.”
"What?" Dean leaned back slightly to get a better look at Kristina. Now he had his face so close to hers that only one movement was necessary to kiss her. And he had a perfect view into her cleavage. “But…” He turned his head towards the girl sitting in front of him, obviously not understanding why she was being fired and not him.
“You don’t have to lick her boots anymore,” Kristina put a hand on her hip. “I know she’s in love with you, but at this point, it’s pity, right? Spending time with her… Poor little thing. No friends. No boyfriend. Only feelings for those who don’t love her. Just like last time, always falling for the new guy.”
Her face was burning. Y/n was seething, with anger, with sadness, with humiliation. And the worst, the worst was Dean's expression. His gaze, which he constantly fixed on her, seeking to meet her gaze, wanting so much for her to grant him one look, was now stuck in emptiness. And a look of pure confusion made him frown.
Dean refused to look at her anymore.
It was too much.
“Ew, friends to friends,” Kristina added, as if the stabs she had already thrown didn’t hurt enough already. “Ew.”
Standing abruptly, Y/n slammed her hands on the table. Head bowed, her hair cascaded in front of her face, trying as best as they could to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes and inevitably rolled down her cheeks. A ton of insults raced through her mind, but they all got stuck in her throat with this lump growing and growing, until finally, the tears flowed.
One.
Two.
One fell silently onto the table. The other, on her plate, right next to the barely eaten slice of pizza.
Before the third tear fell, Y/n was already out of the restaurant and walking as quickly as she could towards her house. The tears continued to flow without her being able to stop them, but she remained silent. If she could control one thing tonight, it would be her voice. No sound would come out of her mouth until she was alone, at home, in her bed. Only there, she would let herself scream all this pain into her pillow.
No one tried to catch her.
-
“Good news,” Sam announced before his brother had even closed the door. “Get this. There was no monster from the beginning. It was actually kids who created the whole thing to attract attention. You don’t have to play barista anymore.”
"Oh."
Looking up from his laptop, Sam fixed his gaze on Dean. The door closed slowly and he took off his coat just as slowly and placed it on his bed. The motel was shabby, like all the others, and usually, Dean would never place his precious leather coat on those blankets which he called "the most disgusting object the universe has known." He'd cleaned the covers several times to be sure, but the comforter had kept this unnatural color, so he still didn't trust it.
“Dean.”
“I'm going to take a shower,” his brother grumbled as he headed towards the bathroom, completely ignoring what Sam had just said.
“Okay, but-” the door slammed. “Okay.”
Sam waited for Dean to finish his shower for almost an hour. The only reason Dean Winchester would take such a long shower would be the fantastic water pressure, but having used this bathroom for over 3 weeks, Sam knew that really wasn't the case.
Finally, Dean came out.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Sam closed his laptop to put his full attention on his brother. The latter sat at the end of his bed, dressed with fresh clothes, his towel on his shoulder to catch the droplets falling from his hair.
“Have you ever dreamed of a normal life?” Dean answered his question with another question. At this, Sam rolled his eyes.
“I had a normal life before, remember? Before you picked me up to find Dad?”
Dean made a sound that was a mix of a sigh of guilt and a grunt of frustration, probably directed at himself. "I know but…"
“I can't believe it,” Sam stood up at the revelation. “You like working there.”
“Nah,” Dean slapped the air like he was chasing away the stupid idea. “Actually, yeah, but not anymore. Working in customer service is horrible.”
“I feel like there's a but,” Sam went to sit next to his brother on the bed.
“But,” Dean took a deep breath. "There is a girl."
Sam sighed. Obviously it was about a girl. “Have you slept with her yet? Because if you want to stay here for a one night stand, I swear-”
“She’s in love with me.”
Sam turned his whole body towards his brother, his eyes wide. "Oh."
"Oh."
“Do you like her back?”
At this question, Dean's face disappeared under his large hands. “I don’t know,” his voice sounded muffled by his palms.
“What do you mean you don’t know?”
"I don't know!" Dean exclaimed, removing his hands at the same time. It was his turn to avoid looking at someone, staring at the void instead. “I don’t know what it is to love. How to love. If it’s love. It was never explained to me, you know, it wasn’t dad who would tell me how to know if I love someone.”
A silence followed his words, but not for long.
“With Jess…” Sam began slowly, as if the words he was about to say were poisonous snakes that could bite him at any moment. “It was simple. I felt good with her. She felt good with me. And together, we were good.”
“Okay,” Dean listened intently, as if the answers he was looking for were on his brother's lips.
“Do you like spending time with her?” He then asked.
Dean didn't even think for a second. "Oh yeah."
“When you're not with her, what do you do? You think about her, right?”
This time, Dean took a moment before answering. “Well, I worked at the cafe, so obviously I was thinking about her, since she wasn’t there but she used to. And then, when I finished work, I would go see her and we would order food or go to the pizzeria.”
“Okay, and then?”
"And then what?" Dean finally looked his brother in the eye. He still had questions, still doubts, confusion, but that was completely normal. A soft, understanding smile stretched Sam's lips.
“What are you thinking about right now?”
“Oh, how I want to punch that shitty boss in the face,” Dean clenched his fist to mimic his words. “I never hit women, but that girl, Kristina, humiliated Y/n terribly earlier. And I reacted too late, she was gone and-”
He stopped speaking suddenly, as if enlightenment had finally reached his mind.
"And?"
“I have to join Y/n, apologize, I-”
“Dean.”
Stopping just as he was getting up and putting his coat back on, the green eyed man turned to his brother.
“If you're in love, I can't tell you, Dean. But I can confirm that you like her. But for tonight, let her breathe, these feelings are new for the both of you.”
At these words, Dean collapsed on the bed. “Oh, you’re probably right. I don't want to rush her, you know, she's so shy, but at the same time, so... Fierce. She's the perfect balance of sweet and spicy. And I let her down.”
To that, Sam didn't know what to answer. He knew that feeling, the one of having abandoned the person you love. That's how he felt ever since he lost Jess.
“I'm sure you'll figure out how to make amends,” Sam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Actually… I think I already know,” Dean turned his head towards him, green eyes meeting amber ones. Green eyes sparkling with a new resolution, probably very wicked. “And you, my dear brother, will be able to help me.”
-
Turned out, losing another employee during the busiest time of the year was a sufficient reason to terminate a suspension preemptively. And although, clearly, this did not seem to make certain employees happy and even less the boss who hated coming back on his decisions, Y/n was able to return to work after barely a week of forced leave. And also, strangely, the customer’s complaint seemed to have vanished from existence. Or maybe it was another lie that Kristina came up with to hurt Y/n.
And what a surprise when she arrived and saw the place.
It was depressing. Everything was messy and upside down, unopened boxes that needed to be refrigerated were lying around everywhere, and other products that needed to stay at room temperature, like syrups, ended up in the freezer. No rotation had been made, and it was with sadness that she had to note all the food they lost and throw everything away. It took her a long time, long enough for someone she despised to come and tell her how to do her job.
"What are you doing? Customers are waiting! Have you forgotten how to work?”
After making this more than derogatory comment, Kristina returned to her favorite position, the one that required the least effort.
Her heart was heavy. Filled and at the same time, empty. Since the last time with Dean at the pizzeria, she hadn't received any news. No call. No text. No, her heart wasn't big with heaviness, it was broken. Split. And now that she had returned to the café, she learned he no longer worked there.
Good for him, she thought as she put away one last box before heading towards the front of the café to deal with the customers. At least he was out of this hell. It was maybe better that way.
“Sorry for the wait, what can I get you?” The usual words were so ingrained in her that they came out of her mouth as soon as she was behind the cash register, without even looking at the customer.
“I would like you to give me the chance to talk to you,” a familiar voice said in front of her. That voice, low, hoarse, and so perfect. She had started to get used to hearing it almost every day. But this time, it forged yet another crack on her heart.
“Dean,” even saying his name was painful. The pain of a lost friendship and crushed hope. The pain of a humiliated moment, a bad memory where he had sat there in silence while she was being crushed as an inactive witness.
“Y/n. There’s no word to express how sorry I am for-”
An apology, of course, wasn't exactly what she wanted, but it was more than she had expected. He was there, in the flesh, in front of her. So, for once and although it was difficult because looking at him would hurt her even more, Y/n raised her head and stared into his sad gaze. Ready and open to hear what he had to say.
There was a sadness almost identical to her own in his beautiful green eyes. Guilt, regrets, he seemed sincere-
“Dean! I thought you had left the ship,” Kristina suddenly entered Y/n’s bubble, who didn’t waste a moment to move to the side. It wasn't unknown that Y/n didn't like being touched or having someone in her bubble, and Kristina knew it, so she did it on purpose. All the time.
“Excuse me, but I was talking with Y/n,” Dean replied in a neutral voice, almost annoyed, even.
“Oh, sure, you want to feel better about last time, but you don't have to,” Kristina continued, crossing her arms over her large chest.
Dean rolled his eyes and shifted his attention to Y/n. “I’m serious, Y/n. Come with me, I need to talk to you. And they don’t deserve you.”
Y/n's mouth opened, then closed, tears welling up in her eyes at an uncontrollable speed.
“Seriously, Dean, don’t you see how pathe-”
“Kristina, shut the fuck up. You’re bothering us.”
This really didn't please the girl who made an offended sound, threw an unimportant insult, and left without another word.
Once finally alone again, Dean was ready. Ready to tell the beautiful barista in front of him everything that was on his heart, even if he didn't really know exactly what it was himself. He had some in the past, girlfriends, one night stands, crushes on the most beautiful and popular girls in school, but that wasn't the same thing. He felt an attachment to Y/n, a different feeling that he couldn't describe. If it was love, he didn't know. But he knew he didn't want to lose her.
“It's a little too late to come to my defense,” her voice said instead of his. Taken by surprise, Dean's mouth opened then closed, like a fish looking flabbergasted. “Although I really enjoyed seeing someone tell her to fuck off for once,” the shadow of a smile drew on her face for a second, but quickly faded away. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work-”
“Wait,” Dean found his voice just in time.
“I don’t have time, Dean,” Y/n turned her back on him, giving him one last eye contact above her shoulder. Her eyes were filled with sadness and seeing her like that physically hurt him.
“On the contrary,” Dean insisted, a smile tugging at his lips as he knew the plan was going like clockwork. “You will soon have plenty of time.”
Seeing the obvious confusion spread across her face, Dean jerked his head towards the boss's office. This caught the attention of not only Y/n but also the other employees, because at the same time, voices were heard coming from that direction. Loud voices, displeased, and then the door opened.
“I am very disappointed with the state of this place. It's deplorable. I’m afraid I won't change my mind, the café is going to close.”
“Wait,” the boss looked tiny behind the person who had just spoken. Like the weight of reality was finally falling on his shoulders. Stomping him to the ground like a pest, just how he had always treated his employees. "You can’t, you don’t have the right!"
“I have all the rights, I am a health inspector, and this place is completely unsanitary.”
Witnessing the whole scene in the front row, like she was in the cinema, Y/n was jubilant. Finally. Finally this place was recognized as being good for trash. Finally, the boss got what he deserved. Finally, things seemed to come full circle and it was all over.
The health inspector subsequently introduced himself to the employees. He looked very young for this job, early twenties, probably, long hair parted in the middle of his forehead and hazel eyes, but regardless, he had done his job properly so Y/n didn’t care about the details.
“This place is going to close. But don't worry, you are entitled to unemployment compensation. Time to find something better for you,” the inspector finished his speech with a wink. If Y/n wasn't so excited by the idea of being rid of this miserable job, she would have been sure that the wink was aimed at her personally.
A laugh brought her attention back to Dean who was still in front of her. As the health inspector informed the customers present of the situation and put a note in the door to say the café was permanently closed, Dean was giggling.
“You did this,” Y/n finally understood.
“Told you we would get you revenge. Now, can you please come with me and listen to me? I need to talk to you.”
“After what you did for me, lunch is on me,” Y/n laughed as well, took off her apron which she threw behind her, and left the café without a glance behind her.
-
“Listen. So uhm, how can I say this, so uhm… God, I’m so bad at chick flicks and emotional stuff.”
The two had been sitting at the pizzeria for about an hour and a half pizzas. The same place as usual, with the same order, but this time everything was different. It was not simply out of friendship that they came to share a meal, there was more. Hidden feelings, others clearly visible but which had not yet been addressed, and frustration mixed with regrets.
Dean had been trying for two slices of pizza now to say something, but would immediately turn red the moment he tried to open up emotionally. And Y/n couldn't even blame him, seeing the efforts he made for her, what he did at the cafe, for her, and now he was trying so hard to explain and make it up to her… He could say absolutely nothing and she would be satisfied.
“Take your time,” Y/n mentioned between mouthfuls, leaving all her attention on the young man in front of her who still made her heart beat so quickly. Of course, he had made mistakes, and to forgive him just because he had the best revenge for her was pretty stupid, but oh well. Love makes you stupid, right? “It’s not like someone is waiting for me.”
“It’s just,” Dean sighed and ran his hands over his face. Y/n's gaze stayed on the ring on his finger, a ring she had already noticed before. “Not easy to say this. I mean, not to you, but like, talking about my stuff like this. But there’s one thing I know I have to say, and here it is,” he finally seemed to find his bearings, beautiful green eyes anchoring into hers, his red cheeks creating a nice color contrast. "I'm sorry. Sorry for not saying anything when Kristina was there being a bitch. I guess I was taken up by surprise with what she said, but that’s no excuse.”
“Dean, it’s fine,” Y/n shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she knew exactly what she wanted to say to him. She took a big breath, words and sentences forming quickly in her mind. And it all came out of her mouth as quickly. “I am not ashamed to like you. Not at all. Because you are nice. Pretty. Hella sexy. And I feel comfortable whenever I’m with you. And I like spending time with you, and always wanna spend more. I won’t be ashamed to think all those things about you, because they are true, and they only make you a better person.” Pausing her words, Y/n forced herself to keep her gaze on Dean's again. She noticed that since those words had come out of her mouth, it was easier to hold his gaze. “You don’t have to have the same feelings, I understand. You don’t have to reciprocate or answer my confession, I can already see how bad it is for you to express feelings,” she laughed briefly at his scowling expression. “What I’m trying to say is… Yes. I like you a lot. And if you only like me as a friend, well, I’ll take that. It might hurt, but it would hurt more to not have you around anymore.”
Phew. It was hard to say, but once everything was out, Y/n felt better, lighter even. A heavy weight was finally leaving her heart, but there was still a little left. That was pressing. And tightening with the question… What will his answer be?
Dean took a brief moment to think before answering. Everything had gone silent, neither of them were eating, and both were probably holding their breaths.
“I've only known you for a short time,” Dean finally broke the silence, and the breath left Y/n's lungs which burned as it passed. She could feel the “but” coming. “But…” And there you go. “I really appreciate your company. A lot. I don’t know if it’s the same thing you feel, or if it’s love, but for the first time in a long, long time, I don’t want to leave this town. And I want to continue spending time with you.” Hope was reborn in Y/n, a wave of indescribable emotions suddenly invading her. “I'm going to have to leave, eventually, for work, but... I really want to take a break and try. I don’t know if I can do it, have a normal life, be with you, and just quit my job, so… I can’t promise you anything. I will probably leave eventually, I have so much stuff to do and…”
“You know,” Y/n continued when she saw him struggling with his words, hope now so strong in her body that she was almost vibrating. It wasn't a confession of love, but it was even better. This attachment Dean felt for her was worth even more than any cheesy love confession from the romantic movies or books she loved to delve into. “I no longer really have any ties to this city. No more jobs. If… We realize that things are working between us, and that you need to leave, nothing stops me from coming with you.” Realizing that it was probably too direct since they weren't even together, Y/n quickly adjusted her mind. “But those are just random ifs and thoughts,” she hurriedly took a bite of her pizza, just to make her stop talking.
“Y/n,” raising her head, she looked back at Dean. The latter had a big smile on his face and shook his head, clearly amused by her words. “If I told you what I did for work, you would never believe me. And when you”ll see it with your eyes and will be forced to believe me, you’re going to want to run away from me.”
“You’re a secret agent then?” Y/n hurriedly said, her mouth still full of pizza, her eyes wide. “Wow. Impressive.” She laughed, and Dean nervously laughed with her. If only it was that, it would be so much easier. “It really reminds me of my uncle.”
“Your uncle was a secret agent?” Dean asked, amused by the change of subject and how she was easily taking everything he said to her.
She was really the right one. Maybe she wouldn't run away after all.
“No, actually. When I was young, I often spent time at his house, but my parents stopped visiting him. They said he had lost his mind. But I loved these stories of ghosts and werewolves, he always told me he hunted them, saving people, like a secret agent of the supernatural,” a big smile stretched her lips at this thought, past memories flooding back into her head. It was so long ago, but she kept good memories of her uncle. Expecting the same reaction from Dean, Y/n only met a shocked face, frozen in a position that didn't suit him at all. Eyes wide, mouth parted, his skin white like he actually saw a ghost. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Dean?”
“Y/n, what’s your last name again?”
Taken aback by the sudden question, she blinked once and then twice. “Uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever told you. It’s Singer, why?”
A long silence answered her questions and her face dropped a little bit. Why did it matter?
“Your uncle… What's his name?”
“Dean, I haven’t seen my uncle in almost 15 years you know-”
“Y/n.”
“Robert. It’s Robert. But I always called him…”
“Bobby.”
It was her turn to have her eyes widen. “Yeah…?”
“I think you and I have more in common than I thought. And you really need to meet my brother,” he immediately stood up and threw two 20 bills on the table. Standing up in turn, confusion filled her entire expression.
“Dean, that’s way too much for two pizzas- Dean?” But she couldn't add more, and the confusion turned into this small, pleasant flame in the middle of her chest when Dean's hand met hers. “Okay, but you’re going to have to explain it to me because I don’t understand anything.”
“You'll understand,” Dean's smile was indescribable because it was so big. But that smile was hiding something else. Secrets that his beautiful lips had surely sealed away for far too long. “Let’s go,” he walked outside, said goodbye to the restaurant owner, and led her to his car. But once inside, he stopped before starting the engine, frozen yet again as another realization hit him.
“What? Something's wrong?”
“You… uhm… might recognize my brother, actually.”
“Why, was he a customer at the café?” Y/n laughed, fastening her seat belt. This whole thing was so sudden, so random, she just wanted to burst laughing. She felt good even if she didn’t quite understand everything that was happening.
“It was the health inspector,” he finally started the car and backed out of the parking lot and onto the road in one smooth, sexy motion.
“Oh. Wait, he’s a health inspector?”
“Not… Really?”
“Dean.”
Silence.
“Dean, did you fake the inspection?”
“Not really?”
“Dean!”
“Please. I’ll explain everything once we arrive. Do you trust me?”
For a second, Dean took his eyes off the road and looked into hers, and she held the gaze for the entire second and saw nothing but honesty. Then, he turned his head and broke eye contact, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see his right hand raised slightly towards her, waiting to be picked up.
“Yeah,” she finally said, gently placing her hand in his. It was warm. Comfortable. And how he squeezed, tenderly but also firmly, showed worry about losing her. “It might be crazy and stupid, but I trust you, Dean Winchester.”
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Just Say You Love Me
Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.
Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating.
W/C: 4,901.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills.
Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”
A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.
Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.
It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself.
So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks?
Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings.
“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers.
“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?”
“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?”
“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”
“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.
“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”
He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”
“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?”
“What? No!”
Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”
“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.”
“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”
Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”
“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.
Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.
Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it.
“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.
The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”
You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.
That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.
The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.
It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry.
The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!”
You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.
Asshole. How dare he judge you!
“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares.
You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”
Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.
“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.”
You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.
“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy.
Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”
“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation.
“That’s the one.”
“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”
You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her.
“Thank you, Miss…”
“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom.
You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.”
If only she knew.
You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder.
“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.”
You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you.
Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.
“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean.
“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.
“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?”
He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”
“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.
His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.
You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”
He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?”
“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.”
“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.
The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them.
“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”
“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”
“Probably, but that's his problem.”
Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.
“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.
That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”
“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”
You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with.
“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?”
“Girls versus boys?”
“Obviously.”
He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back.
He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”
He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks.
Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly.
“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.
The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.
You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer.
You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.
“For what?” he asks.
“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”
“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”
“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.”
“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”
“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home.
Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away.
“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.
“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.”
You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.
“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking.
He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.”
“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.
He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.
The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared.
Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.”
“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”
He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.
He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure.
He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”
You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?”
“Only if you say yes?”
“Pick me up at ten.”
He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.
You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle.
“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.
Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.
“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once.
“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”
“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown.
“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”
“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”
You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you.
“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”
“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”
“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.”
“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.”
“We were going to get married.”
You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.
“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”
Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.
Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”
Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.
“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”
Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.
“I’m sorry,” you say.
He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”
“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.
Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.
Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.
“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”
Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”
“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.”
“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”
“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”
You grimace, “I’m sorry.”
He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.”
He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”
You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice.
The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”
Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.
‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago.
A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand.
Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.
Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.
He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.
He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?
But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.
“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”
He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time.
“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room.
“I did it already,” he calls after you.
“I’ll put it in the dryer then.”
He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.
“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.”
You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress.
“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile.
“Say what?”
He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”
“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….”
“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”
You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.”
He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.”
You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.”
“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him.
“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”
“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”
“I get why you’re…”
The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.
He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.
The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself.
He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.
At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.”
You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.
Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.
He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”
The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass.
“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”
You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.
You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”
Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity.
“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.”
“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.”
He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”
You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”
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Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
#dean winchester#jacklesversebingo23#spn#supernatural#dean winchester x reader#reader insert#female reader#dean winchester angst#spn fanfic#angst#spn fanfiction#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fandom#dean winchester x you#you x dean winchester
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Just For Tonight
Square/s Filled: Doggystyle @spnaubingo | One night stand @anyfandomkinkbingo | Touching under the table @jacklesversebingo
Pairing: Jensen x F!Reader
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 4,510
Summary: On a night out after a hectic work conference, Jensen was only looking for a quick drink before he returned home the next day. He clearly wasn't looking for more than that, but he definitely welcomed it once he met Y/N.
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut: dirty talk, vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up people), rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation.
A/N: It's been a while since I've written a Jensen fic, so here you go! Happy reading and hope you enjoy :) beta'd by my love @hintsofhoney
Jensen flicked open the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt as he walked into the pub, looking for a place to sit. Given that it was a busy night, he found a spot left at the bar, taking it immediately. His co-worker, Dan, had already ditched him back at the hotel, having found a blond woman he had been interested in talking to the entire conference. He sighed as he sat on the stool, his green eyes scanning over the people there, the hectic schedule of the last three days taking a toll on him. He was more than ready for a hard drink, or a few, before heading home the next day. The conference had been incredibly draining, and he was officially done being concerned with numbers and figures until he was back in the office on Monday.
Dan had wished him well in the hopes to find someone to spend the night with, but Jensen wasn’t thinking about that, even at all. It’s not that he never hooked up, he did. He just didn’t do it as often as his friend or other coworkers did. He had concentrated so hard on getting to a higher position at the company that he didn’t really find time to let loose once and a while. After the last three days with seminars dedicated to investment banking and financial services, however, he needed a break from the numbers swirling around in his head.
He looked around the room once more as he sipped his drink, and it wasn’t long before his eyes landed on a back corner table. It was a group of four women, laughing as they chatted about something, but he was only taken with one of them. From what he could see, she was wearing a black dress that came to just above her knees, the sleeves lace with the trim ending at her forearms. She giggled as she sipped a pink drink from a martini glass, causing him to smirk as he thought about his next move. He shifted around to get the bartender’s attention again, asking him to send a drink to the mystery woman’s table, the one she had ordered.
Jensen watched as the man behind the bar mixed it together before pouring it into a glass, sending it with one of the waiters towards the table. The women all looked up in surprise as the drink was placed on the table in front of her, the waiter gesturing to the bar before he left. Jensen’s eyes met hers from across the room, hers narrowing slightly as she looked between him and the glass in front of her. He watched in amusement as her friends whispered and nudged her, no doubt telling her to go over to him. He decided to make it an easier decision, getting up from the stool with his drink, pushing his way past people.
He smiled as he reached the table, standing right in front of her as their gazes remained locked on each other. “Figured I’d come over and say hi, rather than remain the mysterious stranger that bought you a drink.”
“Well, I almost came over, but I don’t know,” she started, glancing at the crowd before she looked up at him again. “Are you worth braving through that many people for?”
“Do I get to prove myself?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
She bit her lip as she continued to stare at him. He found himself wanting to be the one biting that lip, and little did he know she was thinking about the same thing at that moment. He had caught her eye the minute he walked in with his friend, and once he was alone she almost bought him a drink, before he beat her to the punch.
“Sure,” she replied, sliding into the booth a little to make room for him. She turned to her friends who were paralyzed in their places as they gawked at him, tilting her head towards the restrooms, a silent plea to them to leave her alone for a few minutes.
She watched them pick up their purses as they left, laughing slightly just as he did once their eyes met again.
“Jensen,” he said, offering his hand.
She smiled, placing her hand in his. “Y/N.”
“So, can I trust you with this?” she asked, holding up the new drink.
He reached for the stem, plucking it out of her hands and bringing the rim of the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip. He cringed at the taste as his features scrunched up, causing her to cackle at his face. The sound was infectious, making him join in as he passed the drink back to her. Between the glint in his eye and the sound of his hearty laugh, she was already willing to call an end to the night and see if he wanted to come over to her apartment.
“The only thing that’s guilty of is being too sweet,” he husked, as he picked his own glass and took a sip, changing the taste in his mouth. “But yeah, you’re good.”
“Thank you,” she said, simply as she sipped it.
“No problem,” he stated, unable to look anywhere else but at her. She was beautiful, and could very well be way out of his league, but nothing had to happen beyond whatever happened tonight.
He told her he was in finance, she told him she was an architect, and they both explained all the challenges that came with those jobs. She had a dog, and he had no pets considering he traveled for work so much. They went back and forth in conversation, smiles, flirtatious looks and light touches of hands passing between them. She leaned closer to him, her eyes drifted over his suit and up into his green orbs, just as her heeled foot grazed up the side of his calf under the table. She smiled softly, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip once more as she shivered at the feel of his fingertips brushing over her knee. His hand slid onto her thigh, over the fabric of her dress as his gaze drifted down to her mouth.
“Well, not to burst this bubble so soon, but… I leave tomorrow,” he informed her, frowning.
She hummed, nodding slowly. “Guess this is over before it even started, huh?
He shook his head, leaning his forehead against hers as his fingers swirled over her skin, at the edge of her dress. “We've got plenty of hours to pass before then, darlin’.”
A soft moan escaped her at the drawl of his words, and she had to try and calm down. This man was going to be the end of her, she knew it already. She had a brief thought about her own behavior because she never acted like this. It had only been about half an hour that they had been talking, and she was already ready to leave with him. She was never this quick to go home with strangers, but the second he walked into the bar she knew she needed to find a way to get him to her apartment and out of the suit he was wearing, fast. So, fuck how impulsive she was being in that moment, because that was exactly what she was going to do.
Jensen was thinking about the same thing. He wasn’t one to rush things like this, but he needed to know what she felt like and how many times he could make her come apart. He really needed to know.
“M-My apartment’s about 20 min-” she started to tell him but was cut off by a gasp, just as his hand slipped under her dress and rested on her thigh, his palm burning against her skin.
“My hotel’s a block from here,” he countered.
She shifted back slightly, smiling up at him. “Lead the way.”
They finished their drinks off in quick swigs, before they both got up from the table and made their way to the bar. She told her friends what was going on, promising to text once she was going home, whether it was tonight or the next morning. She hoped it was the latter. They watched as he paid their tab as well as his, genuinely impressed as one friend wiggled her eyebrows at her. They said their goodbyes as they parted ways outside, before she turned to him. He smirked as he held his hand out for her to take, a warm feeling settling in her belly as she thought about all the things he could possibly do to her.
“Shall we?”
The keycard beeped against the lock, the door opening as Y/N was pushed into the room, Jensen’s plump lips fused to hers in a rough kiss. He kicked the door closed behind him, dropping the card on the floor as she let go of her purse and jacket, trying not to stumble over them. He grabbed her hips, pulling her close as her hands gripped his white shirt tight, the buttons straining as she clenched the material. She started to unbutton it as she kissed him, but he took her hands in his, pulling back and staring deep into her eyes, panting harshly. He reached behind her and pulled at the zip of her dress, peeling it down her shoulders to reveal her black, lace bra. Once her arms were free, he held her close as he walked her back further into the room.
A small smile pulled at her lips, her heart racing at the thought of where this could go. She hummed as he pulled her dress down her body quickly, pushing it down along with her black, lace thong, allowing her to step out of it as it pooled around her feet. She glanced down briefly, suddenly feeling nervous with how exposed she was, but a gentle, hooked finger under her chin had their eyes meeting again. She felt her fears melting away instantly, which surprised her considering she had only known him for half an hour.
“Eyes on me,” he instructed, voice deep and husky as he leaned in, his lips hovering close to hers. “I want to see you lose control while I take you apart.”
“Fuck,” she breathed, biting her lip.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it, darlin’?” he asked, lightly nipping at her jaw. “Want me to ruin you with my fingers?”
“Y-Yes,” she stuttered.
He smirked, letting his hands slide down her back and land on the curve of her ass. He skimmed his palms over the flesh, raising one before he brought it down, hard enough for her to let out a small yelp of surprise. He chuckled, the sound a little sinister but a chill ran through her hearing it. He lightly pushed her arms, seeing her drop back on the bed with a giggle. He took her heels off her feet, shifting away from her as he undressed. She watched him as he stripped off his suit and shirt, feeling her core tighten at the reveal of his incredible torso, her hands already itching to hold onto his broad shoulders. He moved in, hovering over her as he kissed along her neck, her eyelids fluttering as they struggled to remain open. His warm hands drifted over her body, one drifting down to her breasts and pulling the cups of her bra down, as the other slipped between her legs. She gulped as she felt his thick fingers slide between her folds, a small grunt leaving him when he felt her.
“So wet for me already,” he remarked, meeting her gaze as he lightly pinched her nipple between his fingers.
She couldn’t help the moan that fell from her lips, shifting into his touch as he licked and nipped at her pulse, while his fingers continued to run over her, his thumb flicking over her clit. Just as the digits slid into her tight heat, her hands gripped the sheets beneath her. He pumped them slowly at first, groaning as she grinded against him, and he could feel his cock straining against his pants. His fingers picked up the pace a little, his thumb running circles over the swollen nub just as his other hand rolled the pebbled bud between his thumb and forefinger.
“Oh, fuck, y-yeah,” she moaned, wantonly.
She was trying not to close her eyes, to take in the way his eyes focused on her, but it was difficult. She wanted to lose herself in the feeling.
“Fuck, you feel so good around my fingers, sweetheart,” he husked, looking down at her. “You look so beautiful, just like this, ready to come undone.”
“P-Please, I need-” she pleaded, struggling to find the words.
“Oh, I know what you need, darlin’,” he whispered, smirking. “But first, you gotta cum on my fingers, and only when I say you can.”
She whimpered as he worked them faster, the blissful feeling from his actions spreading through every part of her body. She clung to the covers, a soft whine escaping her as she grinded against him, wanting more. She hissed as he applied a harder pressure to her breast, his green orbs dark with lust as he shook his head.
“Do that again and this’ll be over,” he warned. “Only when I say you can and not a second sooner. Got it?”
“Yes,” she gulped.
“Good,” he breathed, grinning as he continued his ministrations while he spoke to her. “You’re gonna be a good girl and listen to me, aren’t ya?”
She nodded, unable to trust her voice to work at that moment. A wicked glint sparkled in his green eyes as they looked at each other, his face barely an inch from hers as her ragged breaths fanned against his lips.
“That’s right,” he smirked. “Can feel how close you are, sweetheart. Wanna feel you gush all over my fingers, and then… then I’m gonna fuck you hard and fast, make you feel it for days.”
“Oh, fuck!” she cried.
She felt her walls clenched around his fingers, just as her core tightened and she knew it wouldn’t be too much longer before she fell over the edge. He continued to tweak her nipple between his fingers, working his other hand into her sex, his thumb flicking over the bundle of nerves, faster and faster as he felt her arousal against the pads of his fingers.
“Cum for me, darlin’,” he groaned, holding her close as they continued to gaze at each other. “Cum for me, soak my fingers.”
She broke their eye contact as her head fell back against the bed, a string of moans falling from her lips as he felt her wetness against his fingers, still pumping them into her as she continued to ride her high. His actions slowed as he pressed a kiss to her cheek, making her huff a short laugh as they finally stopped. She whined slightly at the loss of his fingers once he removed them, but she felt heat pool low in her stomach once more as he pressed one finger against her lips. She obeyed his silent order and took it into her mouth, humming at the taste of herself on his skin. A low grunt came from him as he watched her, his finger leaving her mouth with a wet pop as he brought the other one to his own lips, her arousal on his tongue making him groan.
“Amazing,” he breathed. “I think I want a proper taste…”
Y/N frowned briefly but bit into her lip once more as she saw him drift down her body, onto his knees. Jensen grabbed her hips, feeling his cock twitch in his pants as he spread her thighs, taking in her glistening folds. He ran his thumb over her entrance, making her whimper and him chuckle at how such a simple thing made her weak.
“So perfect,” he muttered, repeating the same action once, twice. “All dripping and swollen just for me.”
He leaned in and wasted no time, his tongue taking a long lick of her folds. A sound halfway between a gasp and moan came from her as she felt the sensation, whimpering as he did the same thing a few times before he slid the talented muscle into her entrance. She cried out as she lost herself in the feeling, her eyes squeezing shut as her hands moved into his hair. She whimpered as his beard scratched against her inner thigh, adding to the pleasure she was feeling. His hands slipped down from her hips under her ass, squeezing the flesh tight as he continued, devouring her like a man starved. Tears stung her eyes as she felt completely overwhelmed by what she was feeling, the need to feel another release coming far quicker than she anticipated.
“J-Jensen, p-please,” she begged, her hands tugging at his strands. “I need to cum again, please make me cum.”
The only response she got from him was a deep grunt vibrating against her as he kept at it, working his tongue into her faster, little nail marks left on her ass cheeks from his grip. It wasn’t long before she felt her walls tighten, her moans getting louder as he moved one hand from her ass onto her clit, rubbing it as quick as he moved his tongue into her.
“Oh, god, yes! Fuck!” she shrieked, feeling the dam break once more.
Jensen groaned against her, holding her close as he lapped up everything she had to give. He was intoxicated by the taste of her, breathing deeply as he drew back, pressing a kiss to her thigh. He stood up slowly, smiling softly at her disheveled state, hair completely a mess, bra still on with the cups pulled down. He reached under her and unhooked it, letting it fall down her arms before he threw it behind him somewhere in the room. He leaned over her and pulled her close, her breasts pressed into his chest as she held onto his shoulders, their lips meeting in a sensual kiss.
“You okay?” he asked, gently as he brushed some strands of hair away from her face.
“Yeah, I just… who the fuck are you and where did you come from?” she replied, giggling. She couldn’t believe he was real.
He chuckled, shrugging as he licked his lips, lightly. “I just aim to please, darlin’.”
Y/N beamed as she moved in, kissing him once more. She moaned into his mouth as he softly sucked at her lip, his hand sliding down to the back of her thigh and pulling it up around his waist. She couldn’t believe how quickly she trusted him, allowing him to do incredibly erotic and intimate things to her, but she felt from the way he looked at her in the bar that she could take him seriously. He pulled his lips away from hers, pecking them lightly in reassurance when she sighed at the loss. She watched him stand up, unbuckle and unzip his dress pants, biting her lip as her walls clenched around nothing in anticipation of feeling all of him when she saw how hard he was.
“Hands and knees,” he ordered.
She felt a shiver run down her back from his authoritative tone, doing as he said and turning onto her stomach, pushing herself on her hands and knees. She teased him by shifting back, the curve of her ass pressing into him, feeling his cock against her. She whined in protest as he moved away slightly, wanting him inside her as soon as possible before she combusted from the torture of waiting.
“Patience, sweetheart,” he muttered, his hands sliding down her back and pushing lightly, moving her further down. “I know you wanna prove what a good girl you are, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” she breathed, leaning her head on her forearms, now flat on the mattress.
Jensen smirked as he shifted closer, taking hold of his shaft and stroking it, slapping the tip against her sex. She whimpered at the feel, squeezing her eyes shut as he rubbed the length through her folds, her slick covering him. He lined up to her entrance, and without another word, sank deep inside her heat. Her mouth fell open as her walls sheathed his girth completely, the sound unable to escape her throat. As promised, he set a brutal yet pleasurable pace, thrusting into her hard and fast as he gripped her hips tight in his hands. She was no doubt going to have bruises in the morning, but she thought of them as a souvenir to an incredible night. Which this definitely was.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groaned. “So fucking perfect… this is what you wanted, isn’t it, darlin’? Being fucked like this, taking this cock in your tight little pussy?”
“Y-Yes, oh fuck, yes,” she moaned, loudly, not caring how many people heard her in the other rooms.
“Tell me how it feels…”
“So good, oh fuck, it feels so good,” she babbled, her hands clenching the sheets. “Love feeling your cock inside me, fucking me so hard, fuck!”
“Yeah, you do,” he smirked, gazing down at her. “Gonna make you cum so hard on my dick, want you soak every inch of it.”
He pulled her back against him by her hips as he thrusted, the smacking of skin joining their moans of pleasure as he pounded into her, harder and faster. He was chasing the release that he craved, but he wanted to get her there for a third time first. She was getting wetter with each stroke of his cock inside of her, and he could feel her walls contracting around him. The familiar feeling in her core grew, the head of his shaft hitting that sweet spot that drove her wild, and she knew she was close to the edge once more.
“Oh god, fuck, fuck I’m gonna cum-” she whimpered, biting down on her fist.
“Cum,” he commanded, his jaw clenching as he held back.
Y/N slapped her palm over her mouth, a muffled shriek leaving her as the coil within her snapped, her arousal slicking his cock as she came for a third time that night. It was far more shattering than the previous two, her body convulsing from the euphoric bliss coursing through her. She felt herself slowly coming down from her high, his thrusts slowing slightly, but he seemed to have other plans as he suddenly pulled her up into his arms. His hand covered her mouth as hers slipped away, holding onto his thick forearms as her back pressed into his chest, his other hand moving between her thighs as he continued to pound her relentlessly. His fingers rubbed against her clit so fast, she sobbed into his hand as she felt another wave of pleasure, her third orgasm rolling into a fourth.
“Give me one more, darlin’,” he growled, kissing her neck to encourage her when she whimpered and shook her head. “Yes you can. Wanna feel it, one more, darlin’, one more…”
A few tears strayed from her eyes as the wave finally hit her, a scream erupting from her lips which was stifled by his hand. She moaned as she heard his grunts becoming frequent in her ear, until he finally let out a guttural moan when his cock throbbed deep inside her. She hummed as she felt the warm spurts of his seed coat her walls, feeling him slump as he gave her every drop he had to give.
Jensen slowly removed his arms from Y/N, letting her drop down on the bed and stretch out her legs, a small wince leaving her as she felt the cramp in her muscles. He laid down beside her, both of them staring up at the ceiling, the awkwardness of the afterglow beginning. She turned to look at him, biting her lip as she appreciated his side profile, the way his chest moved as he regained his steady breath. Every inch of him was perfect, and it was a shame he was leaving tomorrow.
“Was that okay?” he asked, his deep voice breaking the silence.
She giggled, rolling her eyes playfully. “It was way better than okay.”
He smiled, rolling onto his side and shifting closer to her, looking deep into her eyes. She stared back at him, wondering what he wanted to say considering she could tell he was holding something back.
“You can stay,” he whispered. “If you want to.”
She nodded. She had a feeling that wasn’t what he wanted to tell her, but it was okay. There was no way she was leaving that room after what just happened.
She didn’t want it to be over so soon.
Jensen clipped his silver watch around his wrist, staring out the window to the view of the city in front of him. The sun had risen, and a new day was starting as he got ready to go back home. He glanced over his shoulder, smirking as he saw Y/N stir, her eyes adjusting to the light in the room. She sat up slightly, looking around the room in confusion before she spotted him by the window. She looked over at the bedside and saw the clock read 8:35am. That was far too early for how late they eventually fell asleep the night before.
“Morning,” he muttered, walking over to the bed and sitting down beside her.
“Morning,” she croaked, clearing her throat and trying again.
He chuckled, taking in her soft, sleepy look as she held the sheets close to her chest. “Last night was… it was amazing.”
“Yeah,” she agreed, her voice meek as she smiled at him. “It really was.”
“I gotta get to the airport on time so I have to go now, unfortunately,” he sighed, heavily. “But I got you a late check-out.”
“Thank you,” she said, a little surprised by the kind gesture. “Well, you better go.”
“Yeah,” he whispered, nodding slowly.
“And I think I’m gonna go back to sleep for a while and then order a huge breakfast on your tab,” she added, wiggling her eyebrows as she laughed.
“Damn, that’s a classy move right there,” he complimented, grinning.
A silence fell between them as they stared at each other. Before he got too comfortable, Jensen stood up and dropped the keycard on the nightstand, taking hold of his luggage. With one last look, he winked at her, causing her to beam back at him.
Y/N watched as he disappeared behind the wall, the sound of the door opening and closing making her frown a little. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed that she didn’t have longer with him, but she had absolutely no regrets about how the night turned out with him.
He had officially ruined her for other men, and they’d have a hard time competing with the best night of her life.
#spnaubingo#anyfandomkinkbingo#jacklesversebingo23#Jensen x Female!Reader#Jensen x Female!Reader Smut#Jensen x Female!Reader One Shot#Jensen x Female!Reader Fanfiction#Jensen Ackles Smut#Jensen Ackles One Shot#Jensen Ackles Fanfiction#Supernatural RPF#Supernatural Fanfiction
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The Christmas Present
This fic will cover my Dates Keep Getting Interrupted square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card. ❤️
Summary: Y/N is beginning to wonder just where she fits into Jensen's life. Is she expendable?
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Pretty much all fluff. A wee tiny bit of smut. Just a wisp of oral (f receiving) and unprotected PinV sex. Nothing really explicit. Pretty much a smidge of angst and mostly fluff.
Pairings: Jensen x Reader
Word Count: 2,599
A/N: Here is the next request for my second @jacklesversebingo card. This one came from a lovely anon who asked this:
hi! how about an angsty “dates keep getting interrupted” with jensen? something along the lines of him being busy and just simply being swamped with work but reader feels like jensen might not be in love with them anymore.
I basically took that first idea in your request and ran with it sweetie! Hope you enjoy this one. It ran a bit fluffy, but I hope you like it.
The beautiful dividers used here are from @talesmaniac89
Y/N inhaled deeply as she pulled the freshly made pumpkin pie out of the oven. She looked at it with pride; she’d made it from scratch because she knew it was Jensen’s favorite this time of year.
And he was finally coming home.
For the last month and a half he’d been working all the way across the country and in all that time, they’d been relegated to nothing but video calls and texting. When he took the job the week before Thanksgiving she’d been disappointed they wouldn’t get to spend the holiday together. But as Jensen had assured her, it was only a month of shooting, and he was only one, six hour flight away; they’d visit lots and he’d be home a good week or more before Christmas.
But the shoot had dragged on and on with an inexperienced director and a picky and demanding producer. Everything was so disorganized that Jensen had made it home only one time in those six weeks, and he’d been swamped with press the entire time, as well as trying to fit in meetings with his manager, agent, and another producer considering him for a different project. It meant that in his one day at home Y/N had him to herself for barely more than an hour, during which, he'd been completely, understandably, exhausted.
Four other trips home had been planned, complete with date nights Y/N put together that would allow them to go out together, but also stay in together a lot too. But all four times those trips and those dates had been canceled. Even a desperately planned skype dinner date had only lasted a half hour before one of the PAs came banging on Jensen's trailer to drag him away to help with some unforeseen dilemma on set.
Y/N was sick with missing him. She knew he missed her too, but lately she’d been wondering...just how much?
How hard was he really trying to get home? How important was she to him? Was she just a girlfriend he was saddled with, someone he was obligated to try and get home to see? Was she just a scheduling conflict - one of the smaller ones, easily brushed aside for something more important?
After their last canceled date, she'd even asked herself the question that terrified her...was he losing interest? After a year and three months of dating...was she still loving him while he had one foot out the door?
Her mind shied away from answering those questions. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answers.
But two days ago he’d called her up to say he was finally going to be wrapped the following day, and he’d be home early Christmas morning. She’d seen his plane ticket and everything; it was going to be the best Christmas present she could get.
So she’d made his favorite pie in celebration.
As she set the pie on the rack to cool, she heard a notification bing, telling her she had a video call from Jensen. She felt knots form in her stomach, but decided he was probably just calling to say he was getting on the plane in a few hours.
He’d just text you for that, she thought, but she brushed the thought aside.
She sat down at her kitchen table, and clicked her mouse to answer, smiling as Jensen’s face appeared on her laptop screen.
“Hey.” She said, overly cheerful.
“Hey.” He said back, and she could hear the waver in his voice, but she ignored that too.
“How are you?” She asked.
His jaw clenched and she felt her stomach plummet further.
“I’m…not good…I…” His green eyes looked at her through the screen, regret etched deep into his verdant irises. “I’m so sorry, baby - “ he began, but Y/N cut him off with a cry of disappointment.
“No! No!” She denied loudly. “What the hell? You said you’re wrapped, you said -”
“I know, I know. But they’ve decided they need a shit ton of reshoots, there’s a bunch of stuff they said they didn’t like, and…” He trailed off. “I’m so sorry.”
Y/N turned her face away from the camera as she nodded in heartbroken acceptance, trying to hide her eyes swimming in tears. “But…” she cleared her throat. “This is like the fifth time you’ve had to cancel, can’t they understand that? I mean, it’s Christmas. Why the hell do they need you to work on Christmas?” Her voice rose at the end, anger seeping through to fill in her cracked heart.
“I don’t know.” Jensen said with a shrug, and the gesture made her anger take a swift turn towards him. “It’s Hollywood, they don’t always give a shit about things like national holidays.”
“Well, they should!” She shouted. “I mean, what the hell? Do they think they own you? Why don’t you just tell them to fuck off?”
“Y/N -”
“Seriously, that’s basically what you’ve been telling me to do for the past six weeks, but you can't even tell them once?”
The muscle ticked in Jensen’s jaw again. “Y/N, I’ve spent the last day and a half doing nothing but trying to get them to listen to me, to agree to let me go for a day or two and then come back, but -”
“Wait!” Y/N cut him off. “You’ve known about this for a day and a half and you’re only telling me now?” Her voice was incensed and furious.
Jensen threw up his hands. “I was hoping I could get out of it, Y/N! I was…look, I’m sorry." His anger was obvious but she couldn't tell if it was directed at her or not. "Don’t you think I’m disappointed too?”
“Are you?” Y/N asked before she could stop herself.
Jensen’s face grew suddenly calm. “What does that mean?” He asked.
Y/N shook her head. “Nothing. It just means that it’s been six weeks, and so many canceled dates and plans, I mean…”
“Five weeks.” Jensen interjected as she paused for a breath.
Y/N scowled at him. “What?”
“It’s only been five weeks.”
Y/N clenched her teeth. “Oh well, excuse me! Then, I guess - who cares?"
Jensen was shaking his head. “No, look I just meant to say that I’m well aware of how long it’s been since I’ve gotten to see you, but…” He looked slightly defeated. “I don’t…I mean, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”
Y/N’s heart sank. She smiled sadly and nodded at him. “Yeah, well, you should know. That’s uh…” She sniffed and wiped her fingers across her cheeks. “That’s sort of the problem.”
Jensen opened his mouth to say something, but when he hesitated, Y/N just gave him another broken smile.
“Merry Christmas.” She said softly before clicking off the call.
***
Y/N sat slumped on her couch with a half eaten pumpkin pie discarded on her coffee table. On the TV, Ebeneezer Scrooge was calling out Merry Christmas to everyone in the street below him, having realized the true meaning and value of Christmas. Y/N’s face was nothing but frowning lips and a scowl as she shut off her TV.
“Bah, humbug.” She countered quietly.
Her heart was actually hurting; a physical ache had taken up residence in her chest and she rubbed her palm over it trying to ease the sting.
All she could see was Jensen’s face as she'd ended the call. And whenever she saw his face the fear started that it was going to be the last time she saw it - at least the last time off the silver screen.
She’d picked up the phone a dozen times to call him, but she never managed to hit “call” before tossing her phone down and crying some more. Now it was almost one in the morning and she picked it up again. This time she managed to press his name and hit the green call button.
It went straight to voicemail. The beep sounded and she contemplated hanging up. But after a pause she spoke, clearing her throat first.
“Hey, it’s me…but you probably saw that already.” Another long pause. “So…I was hoping you’d pick up, but…you’re probably sleeping. I just…wanted to…”
She paused long enough that she was worried she’d be cut off, so she rushed out the rest. “Just wanted to say I love you.” Her throat caught. “And Merry Christmas.”
She heard a beep in her ear. “Oh,” she said, surprised, “I’ve got another call.” She saw Jensen’s name on the caller ID and hung up with the voicemail.
“Jensen?” She said tentatively as she answered.
“Hey.” He said softly.
“Hi. I was just…” She let out a burst of slightly nervous laughter. “I just left you a message.”
“Oh?” Jensen asked. “What did you say?”
“Just…just Merry Christmas, and…love you.” She answered, her voice almost shy. Then she burst out full voice. “Jensen I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to -”
But Jensen cut her off. “No, baby, I’m sorry. That’s the whole point.”
The tension eased slightly from their voices and Y/N tried to explain her disappointment. “I just miss you.”
“I know, believe me, I know.”
She was going to say something else, but Jensen spoke first. “I had something delivered to you.”
“You what?” Y/N asked with a laugh of surprise. “You had something delivered to me, from across the country, at one in the morning on Christmas Eve?”
“Yeah, it should have been there by now. It’s probably already sitting on your porch. Go check. But stay on the phone with me cause it’s after midnight.”
Y/N giggled a little breathlessly and ran to the front door. She grabbed her sweater from the peg beside it and pulled it on against the snowy chill outside. She opened the door and peered out, but she didn’t see anything.
She stepped tentatively outside in her slippers. “There’s nothing here.” She told him. “I hope someone didn’t steal it.” She worried.
“No, it’s okay, I got it.”
Y/N's head whipped around as Jensen’s voice echoed tinnily through the phone. Her face froze as he walked towards her from the side of the porch, holding a box in his hand.
Y/N gasped loudly and then immediately screamed, running forward to throw herself into Jensen’s arms, making him drop the box. She wrapped her arms around him, holding on for dear life
His strong arms wrapped her up, cuddling her close against his thick, navy blue winter coat. She buried her face in his chest and wept unabashedly. He placed a kiss on the crown of her head and then kept his cheek pressed there while she cried her fill of happy tears. She finally pulled back to look up at him, with tear tracks mottling her skin. His big hands were cold as he pushed her hair back and cupped her cheeks.
“What are you doing here?” She asked. “How did you manage this? What did you tell them?”
Jensen shrugged. “Told ‘em to fuck off.” She choked on her laughter as he continued. “I told them in slightly more polite terms, but not by much.”
She shook her head, a worried smile on her face. “But Jensen, you’re gonna get in trouble.”
“I don’t care.”
“You’re gonna get fired.”
“I don’t care.”
When she opened her mouth to speak again, he kissed her, sucking away her breath and warming her from head to toe. Then he pulled away before pulling her close, tucking his face into the crook of her neck, and speaking against her skin. “I don’t care about anything more than I care about you.”
He pushed on her shoulders so he could look her in the eye. “You are everything to me Y/N and I need you to know that.”
He cupped her cheeks again, thumbs brushing away her newest tears. “So, to that end…” he bent down and scooped up the box he’d dropped. He brushed the fluffy snow from it and handed it to Y/N for her to open. “Merry Christmas.”
Y/N felt her heart race and then lodge in her throat as she cracked open the ring-sized box. Sure enough, nestled inside on a bed of velvet was a beautiful, elegant, gold engagement ring.
Jensen bent to one knee, and she started sobbing, trying desperately to hear him over her own noisy joy.
His bright, green gaze was sure and steady and overflowing with love. She wondered now, how she could ever have doubted it.
“I need you to know,” He began, “that I love you more than anything. That there is nothing,” he emphasized, “nothing more important to me than you. And for the rest of our lives I wanna be with you on all our Christmases and every New Year’s Eve, and Valentine’s Day, Fourth of Julys, hell, Arbor Days even!” he said with a watery chuckle. “It doesn’t matter what I’m celebrating, I wanna be celebrating it with you.”
He slipped the ring on her finger and she cried harder. After a minute he squeezed her hand. “Is there a yes in there, maybe - this snow’s cold on the knee.”
Y/N laughed merrily and threw her arms around his neck. “Yes!” She shouted, and squealed as he stood up, and spun her around in a dizzying circle.
“Thank god.” He said quietly as he brushed his thumb across her mouth. “Fuck, I missed you, baby. Please say I can kiss you now.”
Y/N's belly clenched and her breathing kicked up a notch as she nodded and breathed against his cool lips. “Yes, god.” She sighed.
He kissed her deeply, sweeping his tongue past her lips and licking up into the roof of her mouth. Many breathless minutes later, Jensen pulled back and wore a contemplative look. “Mmm…you taste like pumpkin pie.”
Y/N smiled. “Oh yeah, I made you a pumpkin pie.” His eyes lit up. “But I ate it.”
Jensen laughed and began kissing and nibbling on her neck. “Well, then I guess I just gotta feast on you.”
He pushed her back through her front door and slammed it shut, kicking off his shoes and pulling off her sweater as he went. By the time he got her to her bedroom, he had them both stripped to nothing. They fell easily onto the bed, clinging to each other and savoring the closeness they’d missed for so long.
Jensen kissed her slowly, skating his lips across her skin, stopping to lick and nip at different peaks and valleys of her body, making her arch into him and card her fingers through his hair. She tugged on it as his soft, smooth beard tickled her skin, before moaning deeply as it scratched against the delicate skin of her inner thighs.
Jensen kept her coming on his tongue for a very long time, till she was shaking and shuddering and begging him to fill her up.
“Jensen, please,” she panted, “I need you so close to me.”
Jensen understood exactly what she meant. Seconds later he pushed into her welcoming heat, home at last, finding the bliss he always found in her arms, and giving it back to her.
***
Christmas morning dawned bright and sunny and Y/N stretched languidly, rousing Jensen beside her, smiling as he gave out a sleepy moan. She turned to face him and gently traced her finger down the line of his nose and then began counting his cinnamon freckles, connecting them as she went.
Another small moan issued from Jensen’s throat. “S’early.” He mumbled. “Why’re you wake?”
She placed kisses all along his tight, square jaw before she answered. “I was just admiring my gift.”
He cracked one eye and looked at her left hand as it passed over his chest. A small smile lit his face and he ran a finger over her engagement ring. “You like, sweetheart?”
Y/N nodded. “Oh, definitely. The ring is gorgeous.” She moved quickly, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips, surprising a deep groan out of him; she could feel him harden beneath her. “But that’s not the gift I was talking about.”
She braced herself against his shoulders and rolled her hips against him before leaning down and pressing her lips softly to his, her voice teasing and full of love.
“Merry Christmas, Christmas present.”
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