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#dean winchester imagine
little-diable · 2 days
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Too Sweet - Dean Winchester (smut)
Of course I had to write something with one of Hozier's new songs. We aren't surprised, are we? Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Dean and the reader are stuck in a back-and-forth they can't escape from, until his jealousy manages to push her away from him. But Dean won't let her go, he just won't.
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), piv, some jealousy/possessiveness, quite fluffy
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.3k words)
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It can't be said I'm an early bird, it’s 10 o'clock before I say a word, baby, I can never tell, how do you sleep so well?
“Dean, c’mon! We have to go.” (Y/n)’s voice echoed through the Bunker, hands pressed to her sides as she called for the older Winchester brother. Annoyance was flushing through her system, already fed up with Dean not managing to get up on time, already fed up with how he went against everything she told him. “If you don’t get up, I’ll kill you in your–”
The door to his room was pushed open before (y/n) could finish her sentence, eyes staring at Dean. He wore his signature smirk, arms crossed in front of his chest to study her as he leaned against the door frame. 
“You will kill me where?” His voice still had the morning rasp to it that left her thighs trembling, unable to say something as Dean reached for her, pulling (y/n) flush against him. Her breath hitched in her chest, her heart pounding against her ribcage as if she had just finished fighting a supernatural being. “Speak when you’re asked to.”
“Fuck you!” She ripped herself free as Dean’s loud laughter clawed through him, high on the feeling of (y/n) pressed against him. Heat flushed through her as she turned from him, putting some distance between her and Dean before he could taunt her some more. 
For years, the two had been stuck in the same circle, a back and forth that never crossed any lines, just filled with teasing, bickering, and some unspoken heartbreak whenever one of them took somebody else to bed. A circle both desperately wanted to escape from, a circle both hated more than words could express, a circle neither of them managed to speak of to the other.
……
You keep tellin' me to live right, to go to bed before th​​e daylight, but then you wake up for the sunrise, you know you don't gotta pretend
She had her eyes focused on Dean, how he was leaning against the bar with a beer in his hand, with his eyes focused on the blonde woman standing close to him. Anger was flushing through (y/n)’s veins, wondering if he simply wanted to taint her, to annoy her some more after a day filled with bickering, or if he was genuinely interested in the woman who looked like all others he had chatted up in the past weeks. 
“You look lonely.” A voice spoke up, forcing her out of her thoughts. (Y/n)’s gaze found the dark eyes of a man standing close to her. For a second, she wanted to push him away, to tell him to leave her alone, but knowing that she was desperate for any kind of distraction guided her words right out of her mouth. 
“Seems like it.” He sat down next to her, and let his eyes wander over her features, while (y/n) managed to look back at Dean once again. She almost choked on her sip of beer as she found him staring at her from the bar, lips pulled into a thin line, jaw muscles ticking in anger. “What’s your name?”
“Mike, and yours?” A smile began to widen on (y/n)’s lips, urged on by the feeling of Dean’s intense gaze, knowing that he now felt the same annoyance she had felt only moments ago. (Y/n) murmured her name, but no further word managed to leave her. 
She felt him before she saw him, with goosebumps rising on her skin, with her breaths growing shallow, with her mind and her heart racing. Dean came to a halt next to (y/n), staring at Mike before his dark green eyes found hers. Without speaking another word, he cupped her cheek, leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. 
The kiss was over before she could begin to freak out, not sparing Mike, who left the two without another word, a thought. Neither Dean nor (y/n) spoke up, wide eyes staring at one another as both began to realise that they had just shared their first kiss. 
“What the fuck, Dean?” She gave him a push away, reached for her jacket and pushed past Dean before he could say something. For years she had waited for a kiss, needing to feel his lips pressed against hers, imagining feeling him close. But now, as it had happened because Dean had tried to prove something to himself and perhaps to her, she couldn’t find any enjoyment in it.
The cold night clashed against her warm face, she tried to blink her angry tears away as he called her name, catching up with (y/n) within seconds. Dean’s hand clamped down on her wrist, forcing (y/n) to a sudden halt.
“How dare you?” (Y/n) spat her words as she ripped her hand from Dean's grasp, wrapping her arms around her middle as if she were hugging herself. There was something swimming in his pupils, something that tightened her throat, that made her mouth feel dry. 
“Why are you so angry?” A scoff clawed through her, a sound so angry that Dean was close to taking a step away from her, close to flinching. For a few moments, all they did was stare at one another, eyes not daring to break contact, even as her tears resurfaced, blurring (y/n)’s vision. 
“For years I wait for you to kiss me. For years I had to watch you chat up some women who weren't me. And then you kiss me to prove some fucked up point? You kiss me to push away a man who showed some form of interest in me. And for what? For what Dean?” Her words worked like a slap, forcing him to quiet down. (Y/n) turned from him again, she began walking, took about five steps before she came to another halt. “I don’t want to see you again for a while, you can work the case on your own.” 
And for the first time since knowing Dean, she hoped that he’d chase her, that he’d force her to give in. But he didn’t, all he did was stare at her, and watch her leave. 
……
I think I'll take my whiskey neat, my coffee black, and my bed at three, you're too sweet for me
“(Y/n)?” Dean’s voice echoed through the evening, forcing her eyes from her book. It had been days since they had returned from their last hunt, forced to share an uncomfortable, quiet drive home. Ever since they had returned, they hadn’t spoken, (y/n) had kept her distance, and Dean had somehow disappeared, no longer crossing paths with her. “Can I come in?”
The hum leaving her urged Dean to step into her room. Their eyes were drawn to one another like magnets, leaving her trembling as she closed her book. Slowly Dean walked towards (y/n), sitting down next to her to pull her against his chest before she could pull away. 
“I have been stupid, so fucking stupid. Ever since I met you, I knew that I needed you, wanted you, but fuck, I knew that it was a dangerous game, and losing you was too high of a price. Seeing you with that guy did something to me, I don’t even know what. I shouldn’t have kissed you, at least not like that.” She shuffled around in Dean’s grasp, cheek no longer pressed to his chest, though eyes now fully directed at his face. “I wanted to give you time, but staying away from you is something I can’t do, something I don’t want to do.” 
“I wish you would have kissed me sooner, or in some other situation. You had no right to act like that when you’re the one talking to other women no matter where we go, Dean.” The hum leaving him drew a sigh from (y/n). Wordlessly she placed her head back down on his chest, letting the seconds blur by as he got lost in his thoughts. 
“Can I have another chance to make things right?” Dean’s hand found her chin, forcing her eyes back towards his again. All she did was nod her head, watching him dip down to softly kiss her. No longer did she feel the same anger, no longer was she annoyed at him for treating her like that, no, she was now solemnly focused on the feeling of his lips moving against hers. 
Dean pulled her into his lap without breaking the kiss, leaving both to hiss as she ground her middle against his. Their hands did impatient work, tugging on one another’s shirts, exposing her bra-clad chest to his wandering eyes. He ripped her bra from her frame, tongue finding her left nipple as his hand worked on the other, high on the sounds wrecking through (y/n). 
“This is even better than I imagined.” She wanted to comment on the fact that he had seemingly imagined a situation like this, she wanted to tell Dean that she had been held hostage by the same thoughts, but she couldn’t. (Y/n) felt his hardening cock press against her core, urged on by her need for friction. “I can’t wait to fuck you, to show you how you’ll always be mine.”
“Forever.” The single word rolling off (y/n)’s tongue left Dean groaning, flipping them around to pull her trousers from her trembling legs, panties following. His darkening eyes wandered up and down her frame while he undressed, exposing his hard cock to her hungry eyes, leaving (y/n) breathless. 
Dean spoke no other warning as he buried his face between her thighs, lapping at her arousal-covered folds, desperate to taste her. Curses rumbled through the both of them while (y/n) was high on the feeling of Dean’s tongue pushing her closer and closer to the edge, the feeling of his thumb circling her pulsing bundle with just enough pressure to leave her gasping. Dean found himself addicted to her taste, to her sounds, to the way she trembled for him only. 
“This is better than heaven, fuck, I’ll do that daily from now on.” He murmured his words against her warm skin, leaving the spots trembling as he let his gaze flicker up to her pleasure-drunken features. One of her hands found his, interlacing their fingers to squeeze his hand, telling him she was all too close. 
“Cum for me, sweetheart, show me how good I’m making you feel.” (Y/n) came with a call of his name, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted. Dean was close to reaching for his phone to film every passing second for him to watch whenever he’d be away from her. But the sight of her orgasm wrecking through her was enough to leave him frozen to the spot. 
“Dean,” (y/n) panted his name, slowly opening her eyes to stare at him. “I need you to fuck me, I can’t wait any longer.” 
Within seconds, he had them repositioned, with (y/n) back in his lap, holding onto his shoulders. He rolled a condom down his twitching cock while (y/n) caught her breath, preparing herself for another intense orgasm. Dean’s hands held her waist as she sunk down on him, foreheads pressed together to adjust, to grasp onto the sensation. 
“Oh god, Dean, you’re so big.” Her walls fluttered around him, trying to get used to his size, to the feeling of him stretching her. Dean’s raspy chuckles guided her on, urging her to move, to rock her hips against his. He supported her every movement, stabilising her as she rode him. Their sounds grew louder, more passionate as they took what they were aching for, clinging to one another like boats rocking ashore. 
He’d forever be her lighthouse, the guiding force she’d search for in times of need, while she was the boat sailing him home, allowing him to be the truest form of himself. 
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” Dean’s praises shot heat through her, forcing her fingernails into his shoulders to cling to him, trying not to pay the ache in her thighs too much of her attention. But Dean seemed to pick up on it, giving her a slight push away to force her down on the mattress. 
With their eyes holding contact he pushed back into her, groaning at the feeling. Dean fucked her as if the devil was chasing him, begging them to give in before he could get his grasp on the two lovers. Their moans ripped through them, telling them that they were close, oh so close. 
“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock.” Her fingers blindly followed his command, circling her clit to push her over the edge. (Y/n) choked on Dean’s name as she came, letting her fingernails scratch at his skin to leave behind marks that wouldn’t fade for days. Dean gave it a few more thrusts before he gave in, letting go with a groan that made her clench around him once again. 
“I don’t think it’s ever been this intense for me.” (Y/n)’s confession left Dean chuckling, he parted from her to press a kiss to her lips, eyes searching hers for a second. He threw the condom away before he returned to her bed, wrapping (y/n) in his arms with his eyes glued to hers. 
“Trust me, sweetheart, it had never been like that for me as well.” 
 I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three, you're too sweet for me
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5sospenguinqueen · 2 days
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(Y/N drops something)
Y/N: Oh, fuck me.
(Dean smirks)
Y/N: That wasn't an invitation.
(Dean sidles closer)
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mlmxreader · 1 day
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Can't Let Go | Dean Winchester x gn!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ Dean Winchester with "Just close your eyes and go to sleep, I'll still be here" please ❞
: ̗̀➛ Dean loves you, but he can't let you go even though he knows he'll hurt you.
: ̗̀➛ swearing, mentions of violence
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
You were fucking exhausted as you opened the motel room door, throwing your bag down with a huff and kicking your shoes off before wriggling out of your ripped and dirty jeans and slinking underneath the thin duvet.
A sharp sigh coming from the back of your throat as you closed your eyes and wished the world would fall silent for once. 
You were wide awake when you heard Dean get out of the shower, and although you were too tired to stand upright, you managed to wave your hand lazily to show him that you were still awake.
You just wanted to sleep, after dealing with a werewolf that did not want to get caught, you felt like you had fallen flat on your face and couldn’t get up.
Dean didn’t even question it, he knew better than anyone in the world what that feeling was like, and he didn’t bother to get dressed as he got into the bed behind you, waiting for you to turn onto your side before he pulled you as close as he possibly could.
His arms settled limply on you, one underneath your body and one over your hip as he yawned softly and pressed his face to the back of your neck; he was glad that you had kept up your end of the bargain, at least.
The deal was to meet him at his motel room the second that you were finished with your hunt in exchange for him letting you borrow his shirt for the day after yours had been ripped and torn.
You wriggled around a little, pressing your ass against his groin as you sighed and drifted one hand to meet his, the other resting under your head as you finally closed your eyes; you were hardly concentrating on anything else except the feeling of his arms around you.
It seemed like you had not felt that for years, even though the last time you saw Dean was only two weeks ago; but as hunters, you were rarely afforded that kind of time together. 
You sighed again as you rolled onto your other side, your forehead smacking into his for a moment and making you both quietly laugh before he grumbled and fidgeted to get closer to you; it was physically impossible, but you both still tried desperately.
Seeking warmth and comfort as much as you could, especially given how cold it was inside and how the motel had no heating whatsoever.
“I never wanna deal with a werewolf again,” you muttered, halfway into a yawn.
Dean almost laughed as he buried his head against you, his hair tickling your chin. “I feel ya - that shapeshifter Sammy and I took down… eugh.”
You wanted to laugh, although your body would only allow you to produce a yawn as you raised your leg and dropped it over his hip. “‘M exhausted, can’t lie.”
He nodded, licking his lips as he hummed ever so softly. “I can tell - you haven’t even kissed me yet.”
“Maybe later,” you whispered, letting your hand drift to his hair and gently rake through it. “You smell good…”
“Motel soap,” he chuckled. “Best in the world at getting out goo.”
You smiled, shaking your head fondly as you fought against the urge to close your eyes. Dean could tell more than easily as he moved his hand, letting it flop down just above your hip. “Are you not cold?”
“Not really,” he mumbled. “But just close your eyes and go to sleep, I’ll still be here.”
“Would you-” a sharp and harsh yawn made its way through you, forcing your eyes to water and your mouth to ache slightly. “Would you mind singing to me? I know you don’t like it but… could you?”
Dean slowly nodded as his eyes drifted shut. “Home is a friendly space, home is a familiar face inside the door, all curled up on the bedroom floor. Home is where I find the bed, some place to lead my head to morning comes, singing here comes the sun. Does it matter where I go or what I do? I can’t lie, you know it’s true, it ain’t home without you. Some people spend their days, lost in a heartless haze out in the cold if I may be so bold, that life is not for me ‘cause every day I see a better way and I can surely say…”
As he trailed off, he pulled away slightly to look at you, and he smiled; you were sound asleep, your head tilted slightly and your eyes tightly shut. Your breathing was steady and even, and your body was limp to the touch.
He was glad, as he knew how little sleep you got - usually around the same that he did - and that you deserved it a lot more than he did; all the times he had fucked you around, cancelled plans and gone out hunting when he really shouldn’t have - he hardly deserved you. 
He had been loyal, of course he was, Dean was always so loyal to those he loved; but he knew that he was far from good enough to be with you. You were everything; you were smart and kind and brave and loyal, and he was just loyal.
Even though you tried to convince him a thousand times over that he was all of those things and more. You never got through to him.
Dean knew that you were too good for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to let you go; you loved him so much, he knew that, just as he knew that you would always be loyal to him.
He couldn’t let you go, even though he knew that he would only hurt you in the end; he knew he would hurt you, but he wouldn’t - couldn’t - allow you to let go. 
So he snuggled down, pressing his lips to your throat as he closed his eyes and let out a quiet sigh, hoping to get some sleep before the morning when you left. 
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deans-queen · 3 days
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Friends With Benefits 🖤
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N) 
Summary: Reader (Y/N) goes through a breakup and is feeling vulnerable so her FWB, Dean Winchester cheers her up in the best way. 
Inspired song: Get Mine, Get Yours by Christina Aguilera 
Bold Text: Song lyrics
Warnings: SMUT, p in v (wrap it up kids), oral (male receiving), mature and sexual language.
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Reader (Y/N’s) P.O.V 
“No Gabe, I can’t do this anymore..” you said on the phone. 
You were having yet another fight with this guy you were currently seeing. It really wasn’t an exclusive relationship but you still had feelings for him. But over the past week, there’s been nothing but fighting, the situation was toxic and it was  a waste of energy. 
“No, I don’t want to work this out anymore, we’ve tried and nothing has changed. I’m sorry but it’s over, goodbye.” 
You hung up the phone and placed it on the coffee table in front of you. 
“What a jerk….” You muttered to yourself. 
You placed your face in your hands and began to take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. 
You picked your phone back up again and deleted his number from your contact list. After that, you went through your contacts again hoping to call your friends to help cheer you up. 
Then you came across a contact name that you recognized: 
Dean Winchester….. your friend with benefits. That green eyed, hot as fuck, bad boy hunter. How could I forget him? He’s so perfect…. You thought to yourself. 
The line began to ring and he picked up right away. 
“Hello?” His deep masculine voice said.
“Dean, it’s (Y/N). I know this is so random but are you busy right now?”
“No, Sam and I just finished up a case…actually near where you live. Why what’s up?”
“Well, um, remember when we became friends with benefits and you said we can call each other whenever we needed to hook up?” 
“Yeah?”
“Well I’m feeling very lonely and vulnerable right now….and I need you Dean. Desperately.” 
“Say no more, sweetheart I’m on my way.” 
An Hour Later…. 
Before Dean arrived, you decided to freshen up. You touched up your hair and make up just a tad, and put on some sexy lingerie, with a silk robe to cover it up. 
Knock Knock. 
You raced to get the door, and there he was standing before you. Just as handsome as ever. 
He was wearing a dark green jacket (which complimented his eyes perfectly) with a black T-shirt underneath. And his regular jeans with boots. 
“Well hello there handsome.” You said in a seductive voice
“What’s cookin 'good lookin?” He said as he winked at me. 
You began to bite your lips as you pulled him in aggressively by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips on his. He immediately responded by melting into the kiss. His hands went around your waistline and began to grab your ass. 
Can you put your hands on my waistline?
Want your skin up against mine
Move my hips to the baseline
Let me get mine, you get yours
Smack. A red mark was left on your ass.
“Oh Dean, you are a very naughty boy.” You moaned softly to him. 
He looked at you grinning like a seductive devil, only wanting you more. 
He untied the silk robe from your body and let it pool by your feet. His eyes grew wide as he looked at your lingerie set, running them up and down your body.
It was a black lacy corset bra, with a thong to match, and some black stockings that went up to your thighs, and straps that linked up to them.  
You took his hand and led him to your room. 
You laid down on the bed and Dean crawled on top of you. 
He began kissing your neck, leaving love marks along it, he took a hand and started playing with your boobs. He pulled down your corset bra, exposing your breasts. Your nipples were hard already and Dean could tell. 
He sucked and flicked lightly on each nipple, causing you to moan in pleasure.
“Mmmmm, Dean…..” 
“Your tits are so perfect baby.” He groped each one, massaging them softly. 
You reached down at the hem of his shirt pulling it up off of him. You admired his strong chest and abs, you also noticed the pentagram tattoo and planted a kiss on it. 
You reached for the belt on his pants, undoing it and pushing them down revealing his boxers. 
He pushed them down and his thick cock sprang free, it was so big. Just like you remembered. 
“Lay back Dean, I need to taste you.” 
He did as he was told and you took a hold of his cock. Gliding your tongue along the slit licking the pre-cum that came out of him. 
“Oh fuck, that feels so good.” 
“Well it’s about to get even better.” You  teased, and you took all of him in your mouth and began sucking him like a lollipop. 
He groaned and moaned in pleasure, his cock twitching in your mouth. He grabbed a fist full of your hair, and yanked it as your head bobbed up and down.
“You’re so good for me, taking me all in your mouth like that baby.” He said in a husky voice. “Use that pretty little mouth.” Groaning his head back in pleasure.
You kept going sucking and groping faster and faster until he cummed in your mouth.
“Oh fuck, baby….” He breathed heavily. You swallowed every last drop of him, and he wiped some of it off your chin with his thumb, planting a kiss on your forehead. 
“That’s my good girl, now lay down for me, and take those panties off….I need to be inside of you.”
Put my back into a slow grind
Sending chills up and down my spine
Let me get mine, you get yours
You did as you were told and spread your legs open, and he admired your glistening pussy. 
He teased you a bit, going in and out at first rubbing the tip on your clit, “Dean, please don’t tease me.” 
He then pushed hard inside of your walls, hitting your g-spot with ease.
“I almost forgot how tight you are baby. Your pussy is so perfect.”
“You feel so fucking good Dean, keep going don't you dare stop.” 
He continued to grind against you, moans filled the room and you didn't care how loud you were. You dug your nails into his back, leaving marks, you clung onto him like he was your lifeline. His strong hands gripped your waist tight as he thrusted in and out of you. Your legs were getting weak, you could feel the moment come to you.
“I’m so close, ohh my god!”
“Me too, where do you want me to cum baby?”
“Inside me please, Dean. Fill up this tight little pussy."  
"Yes, ma'am." He said while growling.
And he did, as he pulled out he looked down at the glistening liquid that was coming out of your pussy. He bent down and sucked up all of your juices, as you moaned back in pleasure. 
He laid down next to you, as he took you in his arms.
"Wow, Dean that was so amazing, I need to call you more often." You said winking at him.
"I'll be honored to help you out sweetheart." He said as he smirked seductively.
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Authors Note:
Hope you enjoyed this story!
Feel free to let me know what you think!
Like & follow for more !! Xoxo
P.S. I wrote the smut parts by myself let me know how I did 😜
Check out my other stories!
Master list 📝
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above-degree-fast · 13 hours
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daughterofcain-67 · 2 days
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𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 (𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓁)
(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender! Female Reader)
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(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 1) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2)
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: An argument leads Dean into finally confessing the truth of his career but before you can make the choice on whether or not you believe Dean you find out some disturbing news which awakens you to a harsh reality.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: character death (oc) i think that’s it
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Things were about as tense as you thought they would be,. You had never felt this uncomfortable in your own home until this very moment as you stood here with Dean. But you supposed for the sake of your own sanity, you knew you would have to break the ice somehow.
“Make yourself at home I guess, agent.” You spoke and motioned for him to have a seat on the couch.
Dean walked further into your home and he straightened up the jacket from his suit, uncertain if he should bother with taking it off or not. But then something caught his eye. Dean started walking towards wine of your bookshelves, the one that had several sketchbooks you had from over the years.
“You mind if I have a look at one of these?” Dean asked.
You glanced over and saw he was looked it through your bookshelves. “Sure, have at it.”
Then you sat down on your windowsill and picked up your current sketchbook once more so you could get back to work on the cover art you were asked to do. Meanwhile, Dean pulled out a random book and he was slowly going through the pages.
As Dean looked at your work, he was amazed at the detail you put into it. You’ve definitely improved your skills over the years, though back in the day he didn’t know how you could have possibly gotten better. Obviously he was wrong.He continued to look through different sketchbooks but then there was one that he hadn’t expected to find.
This one had a photograph of the two of you glued to the first page. Then as Dean flipped through the pages he realized you had drawn pictures of him, each of them were dated and from what he could tell you often wondered what he would look like over the years or even what he did for a living, judging from the different uniforms you drew him in.
“I didn’t think you’re talents could get any better. You were already really good back then.” Dean finally spoke, but you ignored him.
Dean looked up at you and saw you were focused on your artwork. He closed the book he had in his palm before he put it back on the bookshelf and he walked over.
“What are you working on now?” He asked and started looking over your shoulder. He watched as you were drawing some sort of steampunk looking piece, as if it were some sort of Cinderella alternate reality.
“Cover ideas.” Your shortness didn’t surprise him but it still stung nonetheless. He let out a sigh before he tried to speak again.
“Look, at the bar I didn’t mean for you to misunderstand anything. I was really happy to see you there.”
“Dean, what was there to misunderstand? You’re an agent here to do a job and walk right out of my life all over again, leaving me with no clue as to where you’re going or if you even care to see me ever again. Danielle was right. And I should have forgotten about you decades ago.”
“It’s not as heartless as it sounds. I can’t afford to just catch up with anyone i want to, I can’t afford any kind of closeness with anybody. You have no idea how many enemies I’ve made with this job, how many innocent lives have been ruined, how many people have gotten hurt or worse just because they knew me.” Dean tried to explain but you scoffed and tossed your sketchbook to the side.
“That’s a coward’s answer. Lots of FBI agents have families. That means they’re brave enough to take the risk. But I get it, a simple conversation that isn’t work related isn’t worth the risk. I’m not worth the risk, I get it.”
“Y/N, that’s not what I’m saying!”
“Isn’t it though? It may not be your exact words but that’s the implication.” You got up from your spot and started walking to the kitchen.
Dean’s jaw tightened and his brows narrowed before he started to follow you into the kitchen.
“Alright, you want the truth?! This job sucks and I’ve gotten attached to people like you and the moment I let my guard down, ninety percent of the time those people die. Knowing me is a death sentence. My brother and I have lost too many people because of it. I can’t let you die like that because some monster takes it upon itself to break in and gut you up just because you know me.”
You, under the impression Dean was using the word ‘monster’ as some term for a serial killer or some sick sort of human being, scoffed. “Please, I’m plenty capable of protecting myself against some killer. You make it sound like the Boogyman’s after you.”
“The thing that killed your friend could easily kill you too and you can’t protect yourself from any of them, Y/N! You don’t know the kind of shit that’s out there. I didn’t expect you to be a part of this job and trust me if you weren’t involved I wouldn’t even be here.”
“Thanks, Dean. That makes me feel a thousand times better. And what kind of thing do you think will come after me, huh? Nothing could be that bad. Bad people do eventually get caught.” You said and you opened the refrigerator door to grab something to drink.
Dean rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face, wondering if he really needed to risk telling you the truth after all. You were being so difficult but you didn’t even understand the shit he’s ever seen.
“The think that’s killing your coworkers and your boss’ wife isn’t just any bad guy. You have no idea what we’re going up against.” Dean’s voice was a little calmer, yet still deadly serious. You turned around to see if he’d elaborate or if he’d keep you in the dark just as he always has.
“The business that I told you I was in with my brother and my dad… it’s sort of um.. a traveling extermination business. Sam isn’t my partner in the FBI. Neither of us are agents. He’s my brother, and we hunt monsters. Vampires, werewolves, demons, doppelgängers… every ugly ass creature you can think of, we’ve probably killed before.” Dean finally confessed.
Your brows arched upward with shock. This was the excuse Dean decided to give you? This was why he avoided you all these years and he really expected you to believe he was hunting monsters like Van Helsing? Yeah right.
“Monsters? Really? Dean if you aren’t going to tell me the truth I think you should just leave. I don’t want to see you around here anymore.” You said, growing angrier the more you saw him, hurting even more knowing he would lie to your face like this.
“Y/N, name someone in this town that would gut innocent people and steal their hearts. That’s something a werewolf has been known to do in my field and they are stronger than you can handle.” He was still insisting you believe these lies?!
“Dean, I’m serious. I’m not buying this story of yours, okay? Why don’t you just go with Sam to make sure Danielle and her boyfriend are alright.” You said and when you went to brush past him, you felt his strong grip on your upper arm and you looked up at him.
“This isn’t just a story, Y/N. It’s the ugly reality.” He told you and you searched his eyes.
What the hell had Dean seen over the years that made him so sincere about this? You swore he had to be crazy if he expected you to believe this whole monster thing like he believed it. But before you could ask any questions about it, Dean’s phone started ringing.
Dean sighed a little before he let go of your arm just to answer the phone, figuring it must’ve been Sam.
“Sam? What’s happening?”
“Dean, it was Danielle’s boyfriend. He was one of them. Danielle and I were safe and I took care of Chris but maybe one of his guys broke in and knocked me out or something. I can’t find Danielle anywhere. They took her belongings too. I don’t know where they could have taken her.” Sam said on the other line.
You must’ve heard bits and pieces of what Sam was saying because when Dean looked at you, he saw the stunned expression on your face and he watched as you started looking around to find your shoes to put on.
“Are you sure they took her? What if she had something to do with it? Did you do the test on her?” Dean asked.
“Test? What test? Dean what the hell is going on?!” You asked, wanting to know if your friend was alright. What test could they have possibly been talking about? None of this made any sense.
“I’ll explain in a second just hang on, alright? Sam, how fast can you get here?” Dan asked, turning his attention back to his brother.
“I couldn’t tell you. You and I may have to meet somewhere on foot. They took the car.” Sam said and Dean’s eyes went wide.
“You let them take the car?! What happened to you being the responsible brother, huh?” Dean asked and he ran a hand through his hair.
“Wait wait.. I found something. Dean it’s a notebook with all the workers’ addresses on them. Y/N’s name is circled. She’s bound to be next and I don’t see Danielle’s name anywhere on this list.” Sam explained and that was when Dean heard the familiar roar of the impala from outside.
“I think she’s here. Sam, You need to find Nelson and find out what the hell happened on that hunt.” Dean said sternly and your brows narrowed with confusion.
“Nelson? How can he be a part of this? What hunt are you talking about? He’s not a hunting kind of guy.” You said, thinking Dean meant hunting wildlife and you still refused to believe this whole monster killing story.
Dean hung up the phone before he looked over at you while shoving the phone in his pocket, “You need to go in your room. Lock the door and don’t you dare come out until I tell you it’s safe.”
“Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on, Winchester! What happened to my friend?”
Dean shook his head, “She stopped being your friend a long time ago. I need you to just trust me and stay out of the way until I tell you it’s safe. I promise I’ll explain everything when this is over.”
As much as you desperately wanted to argue with Dean, you could tell from the look on his face that he wasn’t going to argue because this was no longer up for any debate, let alone discussion. You bit your tongue to keep from saying anything else and you walked towards your bedroom and shut the door behind you. But you didn’t lock the door as Dean advised. If what Dean was saying was really true, then you had to see it for yourself.
Dean took the gun he had from behind his back and he made sure there was plenty of ammunition. Once he found he had plenty of silver bullets on him, he made sure to keep it on him so he’d be prepared for when Danielle would come in. No wonder she seemed hesitant to leave with Sam. She had a job to do and he was willing to bet she was the one that killed Callie. Some actress.
Before Dean could even think about anything else, the door was suddenly kicked down and not only was it Danielle that walked through the door but there were two guys that were about Sam’s height dressed in leather like they were a couple of bikers from the bar or something. Sort of matched the charisma, or lack of, that Callie’s former boyfriend was talking about.
“Well well… You were just gonna spend the night with your friend and when she least expected it, you’d kill her like you killed Callie, huh?” Dean said as he lifted the gun to aim at their direction.
“Oh what would you know. Nelson deserves what he’s got coming. But it serves him right to watch everything he worked for fall apart, just like he did with my father’s pack.” Danielle seethed.
You could faintly hear the conversation from behind your bedroom door and your heart sank. Danielle was going to kill you? That was why she asked if she could spend the night? Why would she do that? She was one of your good friends, or at least that’s what you hoped. Clearly you were wrong, but what was this talk about a pack?
You reached up and carefully turned the knob, doing your best to keep quiet and you slowly started to open the door so you could hear things a little bit better. You simply cracked it open, not wanting to give your location away completely.
“Come on, you know Y/N better than anyone and you knew Callie better than anyone. You know damned well neither of them deserve what you’re doing to them. They’re good people and you know it.” You could hear Dean say but Danielle scoffed.
“My father was a good man before your kind took it upon yourselves to massacre my family! We never hunted anyone, strictly animals because my father wanted to be civilized. Live under the radar and stay clear of hunters. But Nelson… Nelson decided all of us are the same ugly things that keep you up at night. When he killed my family there was anarchy. I took the lead and said to Hell with it, we’re going after Nelson in the most.. traditional.. way possible. Show him the monsters he wanted us to be.” You could hear Danielle say, but your heart sank down to your feet.
Dean was right, she must’ve never been your friend if this was her plan all along. You felt so naive, gullible and stupid.
“Come on, Danielle, don’t make me pull this trigger on you and your friends. You think this is what your family would have wanted you to become?” Dean retorted.
“Who cares how I avenge them. This is how I’m getting my payback against Nelson and I’m not letting you, Sam, or any other hunter stand in my way.” Danielle said and from what you heard a fight broke out after that.
You heard furniture get moved around, you flinched at the sound of a vase shattering to the floor. Slowly, you moved to where you could look through the crack in the door. You finally saw the truth of what was out there. Your friend and her two companions had fangs, their fingernails turned to claws, their eyes changed color. You couldn’t believe what you saw, and you didn’t think werewolves could possibly be real. All of it felt so unbelievable.
Your eyes widened when you saw Dean get knocked to the ground. You didn’t know what to do but you could tell that Dean was starting to lose the fight. Everything in your was screaming to help him but you didn’t know how to fight these things. What if you did something wrong and Dean died because of you?
Still, as Dean was wrestling with one of the werewolves on the floor you saw him drop the gun and the weapon slid on the ground towards your door. This was your chance to do something. You just hoped that things wouldn’t go wrong.
You took in a deep breath before you opened the door wider and stepped out of the room.
Dean heard the door creaking open and he saw you standing there. Were you nuts?! What the hell were you doing?!
“Y/N! Get back inside!” He called out but he watched as you ignored him and rushed to get to the gun and you picked it up.
You could feel your heart beating fast and before you could think, you realized one of the wolves was coming after you and you aired the gun and you closed your eyes before you took a shot. When you opened one of your eyes, you saw that the werewolf was on the ground with a gunshot wound to the chest.
The werewolf above Dean was distracted by the gunshot and when the creature looked over at you, Dean took the opportunity take a shot and kick the werewolf off of him. Then, Dean rushed over to you while you were stunned about what you’ve done.
“It’s okay, Y/N. You did what you needed to, now go back to the room and I’ll finish up.” Dean said and you hesitantly nodded as you backed away and stayed in your room but you couldn’t help but to keep watching everything unfold in front of you.
You watched as Dean was fighting both Danielle and the other man she came with and Dean managed to shoot the man Danielle was with and she knocked out your former friend. The next thing you knew, Dean stood over the unconscious creature and shot her in the heart so she’d never wake up again.
You didn’t know what you should be feeling in that moment. Should you be angry that Danielle was never your friend, but a monster? Should you be angry that Dean had knocked out the person you thought was your ally?
When you slowly walked out of your bedroom again you walked over to your friend. You saw the claws on her fingers and her fangs still showed. You wondered if this was just some sort of never-ending nightmare. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do and it felt like you had been blind to so many things your entire life. Your world was turning upside down.
Dean saw the look on your face as you looked down at the corpse. He could tell you were questioning so many things right now and he never wanted things to be this way. He never wanted you to get wrapped up in this horrific bullshit of a hunting life and he never wanted you to know what was out there.
“Do you believe me now?” He asked softly, but you gave him no response.
“Y/N… I never wanted you to find out about any of this. That’s why I never told you much about my family or what we did.” He said in a gentler tone and you ran your fingers though your hair.
“Well now I know, Dean. I can’t just unsee everything that just happened.” You said softly and you felt a soft hand on your shoulder. You looked up and saw Dean looking up at you.
“Is it at least over now?” You asked.
“I’m not sure. It should be over if Danielle was the leader of this new pack, but I have to check with Sam if there were any indications of any other members of the pack and if he got in contact with Nelson again.” Dean replied and you looked back down at the body.
“She was the sweet one out of the three of us. She seemed so concerned about Callie when we hadn’t heard from her for several days… I never would’ve seen the attack coming.”
Dean frowned a little when you spoke, knowing all of this had to be a lot to take in for you.
“Let me call Sam and see if he’s got everything squared away on his end, if he was able to talk to Nelson and everything.” He said and you nodded as you walked away from the bodies and went to your bedroom again.
Dean watched you walking away, knowing your life was forever altered at this point. He pulled out his phone again and he dialed up Sam’s number. Luckily he didn’t need to wait long for an answer.
“Dean? Are you guys okay?”
“Yeah… turns out Danielle wasn’t as innocent as she lead on. She and two other wolves are dead.”
“How did Y/N take all of it? She alright?”
“Honestly I don’t know, Sammy… It might take her a little time with Danielle specifically. You get in contact with Nelson?”
“Well… yes and no.” Sam replied and Dean lifted a brow.
“What do you mean?”
“Well when I tried calling him there was no answer. So I took a taxi to his house and when I walked in, it looked like another attack. I guess someone caught word that you were facing the new leader and they wanted to make sure the main goal was accomplished so it looks like they killed Nelson before I had the chance to talk to him.”
“Shit… so what does that mean? Do you think they’ll still go after people working in the bar?” Dean asked.
“I’m not so sure… I think we may need to stay a few days and lie low to see what happens. It’s better to be safe than sorry.” Sam insisted and Dean looked over at your bedroom and saw you sitting on the corner of your bed, disassociating because of everything that transpired.
“Yeah… That might the best option. You think you can swing by to help me take care of these bodies and get Y/N somewhere safe? You said the werewolves had addresses in that notebook right? I think she may need to stay with us for a few days just incase anyone tries to go after her again.” Dean insisted.
“Yeah, just give me about fifteen minutes and I’ll be there.”
When Sam and Dean hung up, Dean walked over to the bedroom and towards you. He knelt in front of you and saw you were just spacing out and thinking of so many different things, he could practically see it on your face how lost you were.
“Hey, you’re gonna be okay. I promise.” He said and he placed a hand on one of your knees, which broke your trance and you looked down at his hand then back at him.
“Dean… I’ve never even shot a gun at a person before… I just killed someone.” You said in such a timid little tone.
“Y/N, you’ve got to realize that wasn’t a person. None of them were. Not anymore. They would have killed you, your coworkers, and who knows who else they would have killed if you hadn’t helped stop them.”
“Danielle… was a person to me. I can’t believe she lied to me like that. Then again what the hell do I know about anything anymore. You must think I’m so stupid for not listening to you before.” You scoffed and your eyes started welling up with tears, one slipping from your face and you swiftly wiped it away.
“It’s natural to have doubts. I know what I was telling you is hard for a lot of people to believe. I wasn’t expecting you to believe me instantly. Stuff like this isn’t easy to take in.” he continued and you looked back at Dean again.
“What am I supposed to do now? Where do I go from here? Am I going to get in trouble with the police? Surely my neighbors heard the gunshots.” You started to ramble.
“The cops are bound to show, but they still think Sammy and I are FBI agents. We claim self defense which unfortunately ended in fatalities.” Dean answered.
“You make it sound so simple.”
“This isn’t my first rodeo, Sweetheart.” Dean said before he moved his hand from your knee and he held one of your hands.
“But as far as beyond the police are concerned… We don’t know if there are more werewolves. So after Sam and I handle the police when they come, I think it would be better if you stayed with me and Sam. Just for a few days until we know there won’t be anymore attacks against you or any of your other coworkers. They have your address so we don’t think you’ll be safe here right now.” He continued.
You bit down on your bottom lip before you nodded a little, deciding to go with Dean after all. You didn’t exactly want to be alone after tonight, but maybe you’d be alright after a few days.
“Okay… Let me pack some clothes before I go with you.”
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A few days went by and things seemed to settle down. You had found out Nelson passed away and the cops connected Danielle to the murders so they believed Dean’s claim of self defense. Not that you were really surprised. Dean seemed to be a pretty good liar when it came to the cops.
There weren’t anymore threats against you at least that you knew of, and now that it’s been a week of silence, Dean said it was safe for you to go back home and now you were riding with him in the impala.
The car ride was quiet, as if the both of you knew this week long journey was coming to a close and you weren’t sure if you would ever see him again. You wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t see him again, knowing he’d more than likely say the same things as he did in the argument before the attack. It was disheartening to know that Dean didn’t want to take a chance.
When the two of you made it to your apartment, it was like nothing had ever happened. Only because Sam and Dean went out of their way to clean up the bodies. Naturally some things did need some replacing like the vase, or the living room couch that had been splattered with blood, but you would get those things on your own since you had been looking into buying a new couch anyway. But it was sweet that Sam and Dean took it upon themselves to help as much as they could.
“Well… I guess this is the part where I take off.” Dean said and you looked over at him.
“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I’m a crummy cook but I can order something. My treat. It’s really the least I can do after you saved me and helped clean the place up after everything.” You insisted.
Lucky for you, Dean didn’t really put up much of a fight so he followed you into your home. Dean sat at one of the love seats since you no longer had a couch at the moment and you sat down on the recliner as you pulled out your laptop to see what you should order.
“Chinese sound alright to you?” You asked and Dean smiled a little.
“Whatever you want to order’s fine.” He replied and you pouted a little.
“Dean, this is supposed to be for you as a thank you. I need a little help here since I’m not exactly a mind reader.” You said and Dean let out a little chuckle before he tried to think.
“What about a burger and some fries?” He said then it was your turn to smirk.
“Diner food again? Sure.” You snickered, “Want anything else with that?”
“Maybe some pie.” Dean said and somehow you knew that was a must, considering he just went through a whole pie in three days during the week you stayed with them.
“Sure thing.” You insisted and you started placing the order online for delivery and a couple of minutes later, the order was completed.
“It should be here in thirty minutes or so.” You said, shutting your computer and you set it down on the coffee table.
“You know you didn’t have to order anything.” Dean replied and you smiled.
“Again, it’s the least I could do.” You insisted
You and Dean were watching a show just to think of how to kill some time but the two of you settled on some sort of cartoon. You and Dean couldn’t find anything decent so the Boomerang channel seemed to be a better option at least for the time being.
“Dean?”
“Hmm?”
“You don’t… have to hit the road after today, do you?” You asked and Dean looked at you.
“Well… I mean that’s what I normally do with cases. I never really stay in the same place for a long time. There’s a lot more than just werewolves to worry about and… and well it’s better if Sam and I kept on moving.” He said, looking away from you even though he could still feel your gaze on him.
“Don’t you ever just slow down? Catch a break? Surely there are other hunters out there that can handle the stuff you do.” You said and Dean shook his head.
“Not really… the stuff Sam and I see… they’re pretty much apocalyptic and we can’t put that on anyone else. It’s our responsibility, our burden to bare and it’s a death sentence to bring anyone else into it.” He said and you scoffed a little, causing him to look at you again.
“What?”
“You and your liking for the coward’s way out.” You said, recalling the argument again when he gave a shitty excuse as to why he didn’t get close to people.
“It’s not a coward’s way, Y/N. It’s reality. You saw yourself what’s out there. And I’m risking a lot just being here right now.” He said and you rolled your eyes before you got up and went to your room.
Dean lifted a brow before he got up and followed you. When he did he noticed you were looking for something and he couldn’t help but tilt his head as he leaned against the doorframe.
“What are you doing?” He asked.
“Looking for something.”
“I can see that.” He said and watched you pull out a box. He didn’t see a whole lot inside until you pushed it towards the end of the bed. That’s when he saw a few shirts and cassettes, mementos of that summer.
“You don’t realize how many lives you affect when you travel, Dean. I know I can’t possibly be the only girl you’ve come across just to leave behind. And from what I can tell, I’m not the only one that could have died but survived. But when you just leave people behind you take a piece of them with you and it’s like you don’t even realize it. You’re too blind with the whole idea of keeping your distance that you don’t realize the people you hurt along the way by not giving them a chance.”You began and Dean lifted a brow.
“Y/N, I’ve gave people chances and they still lose their lives. You’re right, you aren’t the only woman I’ve come across. But once I get too close they get killed. The last one got hurt severely so I had a friend erase her memory to forget everything about me. It’s to keep her safe and I can’t lose anyone else.” He told you.
���Do you realize how you’re making yourself sound, Dean?”
“What do you mean?”
“As far as hunting, you’re bound to be one of the strongest men that I know. Not that I know many- obviously. But what makes you a coward and what makes you selfish is the fact that you can’t allow yourself to be close to someone long enough to know if they’re willing to stay with you even if this life is tough. Hunting is scary shit, I know that now. But you don’t deserve to go through it alone. It’s unfair to you.” You said.
“I don’t deserve that sort of fairness. If you knew half the things I’ve done-“
“Do you think any of that matters to me, Dean?” You set the box down on the floor again before you walked towards him.
“I don’t know much of what you’ve done all these years, and I don’t know the pain you’ve gone through. But I know that no one should ever have to be alone like that. I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve been through a lot. You deserve to have someone by your side to at least give you some sort of relief from this life every once in a while, give you a break from your ‘apocalyptic’ stressors.” You said and took a bold move by taking one of his hands.
Dean looked down at your hand with his before lifting his gaze to meet your own.
“But what happens if you get hurt, or worse? I can’t stand that risk, not with someone like you.” He said gently and you sighed a little before you gave his hand a little squeeze.
“Didn’t you ever think about me accepting that risk? You can teach me a lot and I’m willing to learn. Obviously I won’t have as much experience as you and I never will, but you can teach me enough to defend myself so you won’t have to worry about me so much.” You were trying so hard to compromise and Dean could tell.
What seemed to surprise Dean the most was that you were actually willing to learn how to hunt. You were actually willing to be a part of this much shittier side of life. It was amazing that out of the choices you had, this was the one you were willing to make.
“What about your art? Or the bar?” He asked and you shrugged.
“I can still work on art. The bar was just to keep my lights on. And now that both my friends are dead… I don’t really have anything keeping me bartending.” You explained.
“But what if-“
“Stop with the what ifs and the hypotheticals. Please?” You said, practically begging him to stop trying to make excuses for you to not join him. You didn’t have anything left going for you here.
Dean looked down at the floor between both of you as he tried to think of his best options. So many things swirling through his head about how things could go wrong. How would be able to protect you? How quickly would you be able to learn everything he’d have to teach you? If anything they could always use the help with research while he and Sam were on the field. But what happens if you were researching while he and Sam were out on the field working and something happened to you while he wasn’t there?
You could practically see the gears turning in his mind with how so many things could go wrong and you reached up, touching his face gently.
“This is the kind of thing I’m talking about. You’re thinking about so much already. You have so much on your shoulders, I can see it.” You said softly and he started looking at you, gaze softening as he started to relax against your touch.
“You don’t deserve to carry that stress…” You whispered and leaned up and placed a kiss on his cheek, close to his mouth.
“Let me be at least some sort of distraction.” He listened to your voice barely above a whisper and he could barely feel your lips against his cheek.
Dean carefully moved his head and your faces were so close to each other. One small movement and he’d have his lips over yours if either of you simply leaned forward.
“Do you think you could handle everything you’d distract me from?” He asked, his mind slowly starting to open up to the idea of you coming along even if he still had an overwhelming reluctance within himself. Still, he felt your thumb lightly graze his cheekbone.
“I wouldn’t be asking to go with you if I wasn’t willing to try. I could never fathom everything. You’ve been through, but I can try to make it easier even if it’s for a moment.”
Dean tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as if he were still thinking about it before he lifted a hand and brought it to the back of your neck. He felt the way you seemed to melt into him but all he could think of was how he let Jo and Lisa down.
“Please… just give me a chance.” Your voice broke him from his thoughts, or at least a strand of them. Only to start a new strand.
Dean started to think of the two weeks he spent with you. Those two weeks he had never felt so normal, even happy because of you. It was like the hunting world hadn’t even existed for that amount of time when he was with you even if he was supposed to be working on a job. Seeing you happy and realizing he could make the world safe, make sure you were safe, that’s what gave him the reason to hunt that summer. He thought back to the drawing you had given him, knowing he had never forgotten you over the years and knew he never could. He remembered the way you made him feel and a part of him now was screaming not to let you go like that again. John wasn’t in the picture anymore to lecture him like a child about who he told about hunting. He was a grown man and you were a grown woman, and you were begging him to take you along. He knew you were capable after watching you kill one of the werewolves when you were attacked. So why shouldn’t you come along?
He remembered just how Jo passed, how so many others have passed and who he’s lost and his jaw tightened for a moment.
“You have to promise me that you’ll listen to everything I tell you on a hunt, swear that you’ll listen to every precaution Sam and I tell you. When there is a plan, you stick to the plan so you don’t get hurt.” He said, tone stern with a certain gentleness about it.
You softened, realizing that he’d likely be so cautious with you and you wondered just how many people he’s lost with this life. But you knew that’s something you might never know. You could tell it was taking a lot for him to even think about you coming along.
“Promise.” You swore.
Dean then leaned down and he was so close to pressing his lips on yours. Your noses barely brushed against each other with how close he was and eat somehow he was already at ease. He didn’t know exactly what made it so easy, but it had felt like ages since he was able to feel this calm, decades since his mind finally slowed down just because of a small action like this.
The abrupt sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted the moment and the both of you pulled away before you had the chance to kiss. The voice on the other side of the door alerted you that it was just the delivery guy. He heard the way you sighed with a little irritation and he cracked a small smile at the reaction.
He let go of you so you could tend to the guy at the door. After you paid the guy you set the food on the coffee table just as he was walking out of your bedroom. You were in the process of pulling everything out of the plastic bags but Dean kept his gaze on you.
“I’m not kidding, though.” Dean said, his mind going back to the roller coaster it always was, but you gazed up at him.
“I know you’re serious. I’m not a child, Dean. I’ll be careful, but you and Sam will still need to teach me a few things. Plans have to change sometimes and we have to adapt. Nothing in life is cut and dry so you’ll have to trust me to take care of myself too.” You said, and that was the part Dean may have the issue with at least for a while.
“That… may take me a little time to do.” He warned and you walked over and handed him the bag with his burger in it.
“Naturally.” You replied and he was surprised you were taking this so well.
“I’m not expecting things to be smooth right away and for you to be so nonchalant with me on a hunt. So long as you’ll eventually be able to trust me on these things, then it’ll be fine. I’m a bit of a fast learner so we’ll get there eventually.” You promised before you sat down.
Dean listened and smiled slightly. He knew you’d need that determination. It’d be a good thing to have especially when he and Sam were both so close to having enough when it came to facing demons and angels. But trust.. he knew that would be the biggest thing he’d need to work on.
Dean knew he could trust you with certain things. He could trust your willingness to learn, trust your ability to adapt to a changed plan quickly, but he didn’t trust other factors of a case and when things would inevitably go wrong. Maybe the more you’d be around, the more he’d get better at that.
Either way… it would be nice to have you around, at least to let him forget about his own personal hell once in a while.
“You gonna join me or am I going to have to eat and watch Scooby Doo by myself?” You asked, breaking Dean away again. He smiled before he walked over to join you in the living room where you moved the seats closer to the coffee table.
One day it will be easier to let his worries go, easier to let the weight on his shoulders get a little lighter, and Dean hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d be the one that could help him along that journey.
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Tag List:
@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @leigh70 @nk1023
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thatonewriter15 · 17 hours
Text
Concern
Relationship: Dean Winchester/Reader; Dean Winchester/Original Female Character
Rating: Teen and up
Word Count: 632
Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Reader, Fluff
Summary: Maybe she can hide her feelings for Dean, but she can't hide her (mild) injury from him.
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lokischickadee · 4 months
Text
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Dean's face🤣🤣
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skellyagogo · 6 months
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Dean- Uninterrupted
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Summary: You are hell-bent on giving him what he needs the most
Warnings: None just utter fluff
Dean Winchester, the world's hardest working unknown hero laid out stone cold asleep on his stomach. A tiny trail of drool slipped out of his parted lips. His freckled features caught somewhere between old and young. Overworked, overtired. Too stubborn to take a break, and even more unwilling to take care of himself at all. It was as if he was physically unable to put himself first for once.
'Do NOT Disturb Under Penalty of Humiliation! Unless the Bunker is on fire, Sam is dying or Led Zepplin is miraculously going back on tour DO NOT DISTURB!!'
That was what the hand-written sign said that she'd hung on the door before she'd gone to sleep. She marked the bedroom warding against witches, demons, angels, and everything else she could think of while he slept soundly. The door was locked and barricaded which was a feat itself to accomplish and not make a sound while he slumbered.
He needed the rest, his body had been screaming for days to recharge but childhood traumas had taught him to look out for others at the expense of himself. The tremendous amount of guilt flooded him every time he even thought about doing something for himself. He was the eldest, the protector, the one that had the weight of the world thrust upon him with no way of shaking it loose himself.
She decided for him that he was going to come first for once. That his needs would be of utmost importance, the only thing that needed attention. It was crazy the lengths she went to just to accomplish it too, but it'd be worth it in the end. Worth it to see some life in his eyes again, to see the exhausted lines disappear from his face. Maybe he'd even smile and actually mean it instead of the facade he wore, the mask to show that everything was alright despite the lie.
Curled behind him in their shared bed listening to a sleepy 'hmm' rumble in his throat. He'd never admit how much he loved it when she was the big spoon. Dean would never say aloud the safety he felt wrapped up in her arms. It killed him how vulnerable it made him feel yet so loved at the same time. He could only figure that it was how she felt when he held her.  
"Time is it baby?" Dean rasped in his sleepy voice while lacing his fingers through hers.
"Too early to be awake." Kissing his neck, nuzzling her face against his skin squeezing him tight until both were asleep.
Hours later when she'd awoken from her slumber she found herself still curled on her side holding onto Dean but he'd turned around in his sleep. Their limbs tangled together, her head resting on his bicep while his arms locked around her. Nose to nose.  
Dean appeared younger somehow as if the extra sleep had given him bits of his youth back. Sunkissed skin speckled with freckles. Teeny faint laugh lines around his eyes and mouth were the only signs of aging but he was aging like fine wine. Blessed with the chiseled features of a Greek god.  
Her eyes drifted down watching the slowed rise and fall of his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart in his rested state. He slept better when she was beside him, a little fact he let slip early on in their relationship.  
Dean had been slightly tipsy and feeling good after a night out at a local bar while on a hunt. Clumsily reaching for her while softly giggling. Mumbling through an exhausted yawn that felt her warmth while hugging him was better than a blanket straight from the dryer. That hugging her, holding her was the only time in ages that he'd been able to sleep peacefully, without nightmares. 
He'd never say it outloud but the way her fingers wound through his hair, nails scratching at the nape of his neck was a feeling almost better than sex. He couldn't explain how soothing it was. How a touch as soft as hers held the power to bring him to his knees and have him begging for more. 
Dean was unfairly naturally handsome but never more so than in moments like this fast asleep. She was lost in thought envying his long eyelashes she missed his groggy smile. 
"Not nice to stare darlin'." Rumbled out in his raspy morning voice as he blinked awake taking in the sight of her tender smile.
"Can't help myself."  
He pulled her atop him with ease. Hands on her hips, thumbs rubbing circles. Leaning up for greedy lazy kisses knowing it was her kryptonite.
"Gonna tell me bout the door & the sigils?" Quirking high a brow, kissing the tip of her nose. Not a hint of worry or anger just amusement.
"Just saving my ruggedly handsome but overly stubborn man from himself."
"Mhm." Skepticism kicked in as he furrowed his brows. The lines crinkled around his eyes.
"You... you needed sleep, lots of sleep." She avoided his gaze at all costs believing that this might have been the thing to finally cross a line with Dean.
"Okay."  
That was all he said and not what she expected either. He pulled her down on top of his chest, arms wrapped tightly around her back. The sigh he let loose was deep and heavy and unlike any sound, she'd heard from him. Dean tucked the blankets around them & kissed the top of her head. 
"Okay?" Peering at him with a cynical glare. "You're not gonna argue? No fuss, no pouting, stubbornness?"
"Nope." Fluffing his pillow getting comfortable again.
"No excuses to run off and do this and that and the other?"
"Nah uh." Chuckling low and gruff cupping her face. "If you're that worried about me to sleep then I guess I gotta listen."
"Where's my Dean?!"
"Shut up or I'm gonna go work on the car." Daring her through a smirk.
She nuzzled into his neck as comfortably as she could get.
"Love you," he professed quietly while dozing off. She was better than a weighted blanket. 
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 5 months
Text
ring ring
kinktober, day nineteen
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a/n: this idea wasn’t originally for these two, but damn if it doesn’t fit super well 
summary: “you know, Sam is gonna notice if I’m gone for too long…”
warnings: bf!dean winchester x reader x sam winchester, smut, dubcon, established relationship, love triangle, phone sex, mutual masturbation, toys, dirty talk, having a huge crush on your boyfriend's brother, cheating, kissing, pussyjob, allusion to sex, slight orgasm denial, slight edging
word count: 2483
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023
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“Dean,” you raised your phone up to your ear and peeled your eyes away from the heavy tome cracked open on the table before you, “hi!”
“Hey beautiful,” his deep timbre rumbled warmly, “how’s it going over there?”
“Oh, you know,” you peeked over at Sam who glanced from his similarly hefty book, “slow,” you watched his eyes flicker back down to the page as he got the gist of the casual call, “it’s a lot of research to get through…” shooting your chair back, you stood up, absentmindedly pushing it back into place as you asked, “how about you? Are you still on the road?”
“Nope, I just got here a few hours ago,” your vision lingered on Sam’s long fingers as they ghosted their way down the page he was reading, “I was just about to go over and check the place out,” your teeth tensely seized your bottom lip as you slowly whirled around and took a few paces away. Picking up on your silence, Dean gently poked, “what?”
Hand apprehensively tapping against your thigh, you lowered your voice to admit, “I just don’t like the idea of you being all the way up there on your own…”
“I’m barely a day’s drive away,” you heard him let out a soft sigh. 
“But what if something happens?” your feet carried you out into the hallway, the younger Winchester still visible to your wandering eye.  
“Babe, I can take care of myself,” he pointed out with a small chuckle. 
“I know that…”
“I’ve checked out hundreds of things by myself, this time is no different, it’s just a little ghost, I’ll be fine,” he reassured you. Spine melting against one of the cool walls, you watched as Sam’s hazel glare locked on you as it so often did, effectively causing goosebumps to erupt, ones that didn’t fade in the slightest as Dean then cheekily enquired, “is it because I can’t take care of you from all the way up here?”
Breathy chuckle rolling off your lips, you averted your gaze and humoured him, “well you said it, not me.”
“Who says that I can’t?” you could practically hear the smug smirk through the phone. 
“Dean,” your head shook lightly from side to side.
Letting out a groan that made your cunt clench, “love it when you say my name…”
“I am supposed to be doing research,” a laugh bubbled out through your groan. 
“So, take a break.”
Casting one last glance back at the tall man sitting at the long table, you couldn’t help but give in with a playful, “I hate you.”
“Sure, you do,” he chuckled sarcastically as you scurried into your room just on the right, “was that the sound of a door closing?”
“It was,” you then purposefully flopped down on the mattress loud enough for the frame to creak, “and that was the sound of me laying down on my bed.”
“Atta girl,” he practically purred, “what are you wearing?”
“You are so cliché,” you giggled, staring up at the ceiling. 
“Oh, come on, you love it.”
Exhaling slowly, you counted, “t-shirt and a pair of jeans.”
Humming contently, you then heard him suggest, “why don’t you take those pants off for me?”
“You know, Sam is gonna notice if I’m gone for too long…”
“So? He doesn’t need you to babysit him. Just stop thinking about the research for a bit, just be here with me, relax, you clearly need it.” 
Exhaling slowly, you unbuttoned your trousers and wiggled them down your legs, “alright,” you kicked them to the floor at the foot of the bed, “they’re off.” 
“Are you touching yourself?” his deep voice tickled your ear and shot straight down to your core. 
“Not yet,” your thighs instinctively squeezed together, hips rolling gently as your free hand began to drift south. 
“Good, don’t. Not until I tell you to, okay?” 
Halting your hand in its tracks, it clenched into a fist as you chuckled, “you’re such an ass.” 
“I know, but I’m an ass who can make you cum straight into next week,” he bragged as you reached up to readjust the pillows, mushing them perfectly under your head, “Y/n, relax, shut that beautiful brain of yours off a second and just do as I say, promise it’ll be worth it,” 
“Fine, I promise I won’t,” you exhaled with a light eye-roll, “are you touching yourself?” 
“Do you know how hard it is not to when listening to your voice?” you suddenly noticed how ragged his tone was, “I just have to think about you and I’m fucking throbbing, baby,” you heard him spit in his free palm before sloppy strokes began to echo through the receiver, a melody alone that made you note just how torturously the ache between your thighs was, “shit,” he groaned shamelessly, “I wish it was you touching me… you fucking playing with me, teasing the shit out of me like you do when you’re sitting on my face… leaking down on my tongue… creaming from just a little kiss…” 
Bottom lip trapped between your teeth, you breathed, “Dean…”
“You know what I was thinking about just before I called you?”
“What?” your airy answer rushed out quicker than you’d like. He certainly had you hooked now… 
“That time in the car…”
“Which one?” you let out a light laugh. 
“That first time in the car. You remember how impatient you were? Couldn’t even wait till we got back to the motel.”
“I wasn’t impatient,” you defended, “you were just a tease.” 
“I was a tease? You were the one who climbed into my seat.” 
“Well, you were the one who invited me into your seat.” 
“Yeah, I was,” you didn’t have to see his face to know the huge smirk that had bloomed, “but it worked, didn’t it? Your legs didn’t stop shaking till the next day…”
Eyes lightly rolling in your skull, you tried not to give him the satisfaction of knowing the immense power he had over you, “you will never let me down for that, will you?” 
“I still remember what it was like hearing you moan for the first time… shit,” he brazenly let you hear every last lavish jerk he let himself relish in, “it was so hard not to burst right then and there… I had never heard anything as hot as that before…”
“Dean…” you whined, hips gently rolling though not giving any relief whatsoever, “can I-… can I please touch myself?”
“Why?” he teased, not slowing his own pleasure down one bit, “is this turning you on? Are you getting wet for me?”
“Dean,” you sounded downright pathetic at this point. Yet another thing for the memory banks that he could mock you endlessly about. 
“You didn’t answer my question, sweetheart,” he croaked, “reach down and feel for me, but don’t play with yourself, just feel…”
“You are so mean…” you grumbled light-heartedly as you finally slipped your free fingers below the waist of your panties. 
“Is that a yes?” he challenged. 
“Yes, yes, I’m really fucking wet,” you admitted begrudgingly, nearly whimpering as you retracted your hand, a sinful sheen now glazing the skin. 
“Good,” he crooned conceitedly, “now lift up your shirt and play with those tits,” though it wasn’t the place you longed to caress, you still rushed to fulfil his request, “what I wouldn’t give to touch them right now…” your breathing grew more ragged as your hand switched from one to the other in a lewd little massage, “they’re so fucking perfect… so soft, so pretty,” you gave the pebbly nipple right above your heart a harsh pinch, just like how Dean’s greedy fingers liked to do it, “and when you’re lying on your back and I thrust up into you just right, the way that makes them jiggle?” your cunt clenched at the image, “fuck… hypnotize me, why don’t you? Call me your slave because I’ll follow you anywhere…” dizzying breathes flowing from your lips, your boyfriend was only silent a second, enjoying what little you gave him before he finally said, “hey, baby?” a fuzzy hum immediately rushing out of you, “be a good girl and play with that pretty little pussy for me, yeah? Make it feel real good…”
You might as well have been set aflame with turned on you were. It almost felt like you electrocuted yourself when you finally rubbed your aching clit. 
“Fuck, Dean!” your form thrashed atop the bed. 
“Lower the phone, sweetheart. Let me hear how wet that pussy is,” to which you briefly brought it down to catch more of the lewd soppy sounds echoing throughout the room with every needy caress, “christ, I wish I was there with you…”
Yanking your panties off completely, kicking them to the floor, you swiftly slid two fingers into your quivering hole, “I wish you were here too,” but the petiteness of your fingers caused you to let out a desperate whine, “fuck, Dean, I-…”
“What?” by the sound of his condescending tone it was obvious that he already knew the problem, “what’s wrong, baby?” 
“I feel so empty…” you nearly cried as your fingers pumped and pumped but just couldn’t get deep enough to scratch that itch. 
“Oh, are your pretty fingers not long enough? Not big enough to stretch that pussy out the way that she deserves, huh?”
“N-no.” 
Completely entranced by the melody his own efforts emitted, he promptly muttered, “do something for me then, yeah?”
“Huh?”
“Stop touching yourself.”
“What?” your movements slowed, but didn’t halt completely, “no, no!”
“Stop touching yourself and go get the toy in the bedside table,” painstakingly snatching your glistening digits back, you scurried over the mattress to the table on the right side. Ripping the drawer open, you couldn’t get your hands on the realistic-looking silicone fast enough, “you got it?”
“Yeah,” you crawled back to your previous spot and laid back down. 
“Good. Now give it a little kiss before letting your cunt feel it,” you brought the tip of the dildo up to your lips, giving it a gentle little lick before filling up your mouth more, “be nice, treat it like you’d treat me.” 
After releasing it from your peck with a pop, slobber clung to it as you lowered it down between your trembling thighs, “oh my god,” your eyes fluttered as you slid it inside, “Dean!” 
“That what you needed, babe?” you heard him chuckle. 
“Yes, fuck, it feels so good!” squeezing your eyes shut, you pumped it lavishly, “I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last with this.”
“Hold on, just a little bit longer, can you do that for me?” 
“Dean,” your plea came out as a moan. 
“Fuck, you sound so hot,” he panted, “don’t cum yet, baby, not yet,” obviously being painfully close himself, “shit, I wish I could see you right now, laying there, in your bed, fucking yourself for me, dripping all over those sheets,” your nails dug into the flared base of the toy, “I can’t wait to get home, baby. Feel that pussy clench around my cock again, maybe even keep that dildo close by to plug up your other holes… fucking hell, you wanna cum with me?”
“Yes!” you cried out. 
“Then go ahead, be a good girl and cum all over that toy,” removing your grip on the silicone, you briefly drifted your fingers up to give your clit the attention it was screaming for. 
But just before you were about to dance your digits back down to give the toy one last pump, it began to move on its own. Snapping your eyes open, you saw none other than Sam, grip firm on the base as he ploughed the dildo in and out of you, giving you exactly what you needed, “oh my god,” your eyes grew wide as they locked with his, though your fingers couldn’t seem to quit their needy circles over your puffy pearl, “oh my god,” holding his piercing gaze, you tumbled over the edge, “fuck!” 
Hearing your boyfriend swiftly follow suit, you just kept blinking back at his brother as he slowly pulled the toy out of your clenching cunt, “fuck, that was so good, baby, shit, I came so much over here.”
“Mhm…” you distantly hummed, chest heaving as you watched Sam swipe a finger over the toy, collecting some of your juices before swiftly letting his tongue have a taste.
“Fuck, I can’t wait to get back home to you.”
“Y-yeah,” Sam’s eyes stayed locked with yours as he popped his finger back out, “me neither…”
“Just a day or so more and I’m all yours,” your hazy gaze fluttered down to spot Sam’s girth, freed and throbbing. 
“See you then,” you distantly spoke before hanging up and letting your phone drop to the mattress. 
Like a crack of thunder, before you even had time to register what it was that you were doing, the two of you clawed the other closer and locked your lips in a fevered kiss. Nails nearly digging through his clothes, it didn’t take long before your fingers enveloped Sam’s cock, the weight making your knees wobbly. 
 But just as quickly as you had collided like magnets, that’s how fast you pulled back again, “Sam-, shit…” palms planted on his chest, you shook your head in an effort to clear it, “this is bad, we can’t do this…”
“Don’t say that,” he plucked up your chin, “don’t fucking deny what’s going on between us, what’s been there since the very beginning.”
“But, what about-”
“I don’t give a shit about that,” both his hands came up to cup your face, “do you want me? Do you want me as much as I want you?” 
Blinking back at him, all you could do was wistfully tilt your head instead of uttering the truth, “Sam…”
“Because if you don’t, if you really don’t, then tell me to walk away and I will,” he slowly inched closer, a hand drifting down to grasp his cock to tease you with the tip that was already so desperately nudging against your core and getting soaked in your want, “tell me that you don’t want this, that you don’t want me…” he parted your petals with his dick, “tell me and I’ll go away…”
Breathlessly, blinking back into his dark gaze, instead of finding the words, you simply pulled him back in and gave him a kiss as confirmation.
A string of saliva still connecting your lips, his nose ghosted against yours as his teasing grew more confident, “you want it, huh? Tell me that you want me.”
“I want you,” you finally uttered after ages of suppressing the fevered desire. 
“Tell me again,” he nearly growled, catching your weeping hole at every electric flick through your folds. 
“I want you, please fuck me.”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
1K notes · View notes
avanatural · 10 months
Text
The Talk
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Summary: Jack catches Dean and Y/N while they're being intimate. The Nephilim has a lot of questions about what he witnessed, and Dean takes it upon himself to answer at least the most important ones.
Pairing: Dean x female Reader
Category: Smut, fluff, some humor, 18+
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, mentions of non-con, getting caught during sex
A/N: This story contains smut! Do not proceed if you’re under the age of 18! Thank you to the lovely people who expressed their interest in this particular story. I hope you enjoy! Wanna be added to my Dean Winchester tag list? Send me an ask ❤️
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Y/N cried out in ecstasy. Her fingers curled around the headboard, holding on for dear life. Dean was ramming into her at a rapid pace, kneeling behind her. His skin was slapping against hers. Every push was forceful enough to take her breath away.
“How’s that feel?”, he checked in with her, bending forward, folding his body across hers, his lips grazing her cheek. His thrusts slowed down, but their force increased.
“So good,” she panted through the powerful sensations.
“You want me to keep goin’ like that?”
“Oh God, yes…”
She clenched around him, causing him to hiss loudly in pleasure. He could feel his body vibrate as a familiar intense sensation settled in his lower regions.   
Until…
“What are you doing?”
Dean and Y/N tensed violently at the sudden intrusion. Their souls took a leap out of their bodies, prompting them to abruptly still their movements. No one else was supposed to be in the bunker. Their heads snapped towards the open door of Dean’s bedroom.
None other than Lucifer’s son himself, Jack, was standing in the doorway, his hands clasped in front of him, his head tilted to the side. 
“Dammit, Jack!”, Dean roared, swiftly pulling out of Y/N and throwing his cream-colored sheets over her naked body.
Y/N’s eyes were wide, her breathing heavy. She gladly accepted the sheets to cover her body. A scorching heat lit up her cheeks. She felt like she’d just run a marathon, but with a mighty dose of embarrassment tossed into the mix.
“What are you doing?”, the Nephilim repeated, staring at the two hunters with a crease between his innocent eyes.
“Having sex!”, Dean snapped, snatching his pillow from the bed to hide his softening member.
Jack’s lips pursed as he mentally went through his vocabulary to find that particular word. When it didn’t ring a bell, he shook his head. “What does that mean?”
Y/N groaned internally and hid her burning face in her hands. This couldn’t be happening. What the hell was he doing back early? Jack and Sam were supposed to be out.
“It’s what adults do for fun,” Dean snarled, hoping that, by some miracle, Jack was going to take the hint and leave them alone.
Instead, the purest smile spread across Jack’s face. He looked even more interested in the subject now. “I like fun.”
Dean pushed his jaw forward. He was irritated, but he was also embarrassed. Y/N could tell by looking at his flushed freckled cheeks and the reddening tips of his ears. “You remember the talk we had about privacy?”, he demanded.
Lucifer’s son drew his eyebrows together. “Of course.”
“You wanna give us some of that?”, Dean barked, sarcasm dripping from his rough voice.
“Hey, Jack, I was wondering where you headed off to…”, Sam’s voice trailed off as he appeared in the doorframe. He took in the scene before him, quick to avert his gaze and clear his throat. “Jack, uh… Come on, we’ll give them some privacy.” Sam placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder and steered him away from the door.
Dean groaned and let his sweaty forehead drop to Y/N’s shoulder. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered.
“But the door was open,” they could hear Jack protest down the hall.
Y/N sighed deeply, hoping that it would somehow rid her of the uneasiness that tickled her limbs. When Dean lifted his head back up and met her gaze, she was almost amused by the obvious disappointment on his face. Almost. The smile didn’t break through, but her eyes reflected her bashful internal laughter.
“It’s not funny,” Dean grumbled, frowning as he spotted the beginning of the awkward smile on her face.
The mood had definitely been killed.
“Come on…” Y/N gently patted Dean’s bare thigh. “Let’s get dressed. It’s time for lunch, anyway.”
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“Dean?”, Jack asked.
The Nephilim, Dean and Sam were sat at the library table, their noses buried in books and newspapers. The earthy scent of paper wafted through the air.
“Hm?”, the older Winchester brother half-heartedly replied, raising his mug to his lips.
“Does… sex… hurt women?”
Sam gave the Nephilim a confused side-glance while Dean audibly gulped down the hot sip of coffee. “What?”
“I think you hurt Y/N,” Jack stated with an accusing tone in his voice.
Sam’s lips transformed into a tight, thin line to prevent him from laughing.
Dean sent a glare his brother’s way. He was not in the mood to give the son of Lucifer ‘the talk.’ “It’s none of your business what I do with Y/N. Capiche?”, he grumped. The hunter’s muscles tightened in his jaw as he took another sip of his coffee.
“But I don’t want you to hurt her.”
“I wasn’t hurting her,” Dean huffed, putting down his mug. He didn’t want to defend himself for what Jack had witnessed, but if someone claimed that he hurt Y/N, and that he hurt her on purpose, the hunter was bound to get offended. “Relax.”
Sam chimed in, showing mercy for his brother. “Jack, Dean would never hurt Y/N. You know that.”
“But it looked like he was.”
Dean sighed grumpily and clasped his hands on the table in front of him. “I was doin’ somethin’ she likes. Okay? That’s rule number one with sex,” he explained, lifting a single finger in the air for emphasis, “You both need to enjoy it.”
“So, it’s possible not to enjoy it?” Jack’s forehead furrowed, causing his brows to move closer together. “I thought adults do it for fun.”
“Yes, it’s possible, but that should never, ever happen,” Dean clarified, “You need to communicate, make sure you’re on the same page.”
Jack’s eyes squinted at the unfamiliar expression. “On… the same page?”
“Yeah. For example…” Dean briefly shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, unable to believe he was actually talking about this to Jack, of all people. “Uh… Y/N told me she doesn’t want me to leave hickeys on her body, so I can’t do that. Even though I’d like to.” At the thought of marking Y/N up as his, he ran his tongue across his lower lip. “I’d really, really like to…,” he muttered to himself dreamily.
Sam scoffed, chuckling slightly and shaking his head. Never in a million years could he have guessed that his older brother was going to give Satan’s son the talk one day.
Meanwhile, Jack nodded, clinging to Dean’s every word. “So, it’s about… permission,” he concluded.
“Exactly,” Dean responded, snapping his fingers and pointing one at Jack. He felt something dangerously close to pride swell in his chest as the boy drew the correct conclusion. “Bottom line is, you can only do what your partner allows you to.”
Jack nodded and let the information sink in for a second. Then, one of his eyebrows rose up and he inquired, “So, Y/N is your… partner?”
The question was a curveball to Dean, whose mouth puckered in reply. He was stunned into stammering, “Uhm, well…”
Curiously, Sam sat up straighter and watched his sibling’s reaction like a hawk.
“Yeah,” Dean said finally, shrugging his wide shoulders, which, to his surprise, suddenly felt a lot lighter.
Jack clasped his own hands on the table, copying Dean’s posture. “Are there any other rules?”
“Yeah. Like protection.” When Jack opened his mouth to ask further questions, Dean silenced him by lifting his pointer finger back in the air. “But I ain’t teachin’ you about that, kid. One lesson at a time.”
Dean got up, empty mug in hand, and headed toward the kitchen. As he entered the hallway, he almost bumped into Y/N, who was standing right there, resting against the wall. She smiled up at him, irises gleaming with joy and a little bit of mischief.  
“What’s gotten you all cheerful?”, he demanded playfully, eyebrows arching.
“Oh, nothing,” she said, grinning at him.
Dean narrowed his eyes at her. But he didn’t get to say another word when Jack’s bewildered voice suddenly rang through the library.
“Sam… What are hickeys?”
When Sam’s groan reached their ears, Dean and Y/N burst into quiet laughter, leaning forward, their heads almost bumping into each other.
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That night, Y/N listened to Dean’s calming heartbeat, cuddled up against his torso. He sighed with content when she pressed her lips to his anti-possession tattoo.
“You know… I really liked how you gave Jack the talk today,” she said.
Dean’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle. “So, you were eavesdroppin’.”
“Guilty.” Y/N laughed softly for a second, smiling at the green-eyed hunter who was holding her like she was the most delicate thing in the world. “But seriously... I liked how you taught him about consent.”
His fingers traced an affectionate pattern on her hip. “Well, that's sex 101, isn’t it?”
She nodded against his skin. “It should be.”
Dean slowly brushed his fingertips across her ribs and felt her muscles contract. When he realized she was ticklish, he dragged his fingers along the same spot again. He enjoyed the sweet sounds of laughter that spilled from her mouth. He loved having her in his arms, whether they were having sex or not. She made him feel good. About his life. About himself.
“So… I’m your partner, huh?”, Y/N asked, catching his hand in hers so he would stop tickling her. She proceeded to bite her bottom lip and sneak a peek at Dean’s face while she waited for his response. So far, neither of them had brought up the question of what exactly they were to each other.
At first, she was met with complete and utter silence. That was okay. Truth be told, she had no idea what to expect. She knew they each had their own difficulties when it came to relationships. But she needed to know if Dean had told Jack the truth, or if he’d just called her his partner to appease the young Nephilim.
Then, after a few seconds, Dean gave his silent reply. The way he clenched his arm around her, squeezed her against him, and firmly kissed the crown of her head told her more than words ever could. He then transformed his response into one single word, quietly whispering it into her hair. “Yeah.”
“Hmm,” she hummed and hid her smiling face in the crook of his neck. His embrace was the most comfortable place in the entire world. She felt his chest rise and fall steadily, heard the deep breaths coming from his nose, and shut her eyes. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt at peace. “Dean?”, she asked after a few minutes, wondering if he was dozing off.
“Hm?”
“I think you still owe me an orgasm or two.”
His sleepy, spiky-haired head rose up the second she finished her sentence. He rolled on top of her body, grinning like a Cheshire cat while she giggled her heart out.
“Just two?”
“Ohh, are we feeling ambitious tonight?”, she chuckled, circling her arms around his neck.
“It’s on, sweetheart,” he rasped, molding his lips against hers in a breathtaking kiss.
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zepskies · 7 months
Note
Hey could I please request headcanons for how Dean would react to reader texting him "she's busy" as a joke, yk kind of like
Dean: Hey baby
Reader: She's busy
I really hope this makes sense and isn't so confusing 😭😭
Ooh I think I know what you mean. 😏
Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader Word Count: 850
Imagine: Texting Dean when he's on a hunt.
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Once again, Dean sighed while he waited on his brother.
They were stopped at a 7-Eleven gas station after a hunt, but Dean had long ago filled up Baby's tank. Sam was inside, grabbing a few snacks for the road tomorrow. Supposedly.
Dean fished out his phone from his pocket and texted him.
Hey, Driving Miss Daisy. You good in there?
A couple of minutes later, Sam responded.
Yeah, just getting a few things.
Dean rolled his eyes. Right.
For half an hour? What, you taking a shit or something?
Sam's response was testy, just as Dean predicted.
Dean, give me a minute. Jesus.
Dean sighed, with a roll of his eyes. He scrolled back into his texts and found your name. He was a couple of states over from Lawrence, but still within the same timezone. You should still be awake back at the bunker.
He decided he wanted to hear your voice, let you know that he and Sam were going to catch one more night of rest here at the motel before they made the long drive back home.
But...you didn't answer when he called.
Weird. You were typically a night owl, either watching something or plugging away at your laptop. He tried texting you instead.
Hey, baby. You up?
He eventually saw the three gray dots pop up. You were typing...
She's busy.
Dean frowned. What the hell?
Had you invited someone over? Like Jody or Donna?
But neither of them would've replied like that...so he texted back.
Stop messing around.
Dean tried calling you again, but it went directly to voicemail this time. In came another text from "you."
She'll call you back, dude.
Dean's jaw ticked with annoyance. And despite himself, unease began to creep in and churn his stomach.
What the fuck is this?
She's in the shower. I'll tell her to call you back, no worries.
All right. WHO is this?
Ooh, are you the boyfriend? Yikes lol.
A deep, slow breath made it through Dean's nose. He closed his eyes, counted to ten, reminded himself that he did, in fact, love you.
Then he responded.
Babe, if you don't call me in the next 30 seconds, there's gonna be hell to pay when I get home.
Dean checked his watch and actually counted. About ten seconds passed before his phone rang with an incoming call...from you. He answered.
"Promise?" came your teasing voice. When it ended on a giggle, Dean rolled his eyes and rested his head back on the seat. He blew out a frustrated breath.
"Oh, trust and believe. You're gonna fuckin' get it this time," he said, though his lips curved on a reluctant smirk. You full on laughed at him then.
"You make it too easy," you replied.
He knew this. It wasn't the first time you'd teased him, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.
Still, he couldn't help being a bit irritated this time.
"You know, how would you like it if I did that to you?" he asked. "Wouldn't be so fucking funny then, would it?"
"...Okay. You're right. I'm sorry, baby," came your more contrite voice. But he could still hear your smile. Could imagine the way you might soothe a hand along his arm, if you were here.
"How about I make it up to you?" you offered.
That worked a slow smirk onto his face. "Yeah? What did you have in mind?"
For the next few minutes, you purred into his ear about all the things you'd been thinking of while he was gone. Daydreaming about the talents of his hands, lips, and tongue.
In particular, you reminded him about a certain birthday wish that he still hadn't claimed from a couple weeks ago, when he and Sam got wind of this hunt.
Two weeks really was too damn long, in your opinion. (He agreed with you.)
Now with a half-straining bulge in his jeans, Dean licked his lips and tightened his hand on the leather wheel of the car.
"All right. Sounds like a plan to me, sweetheart," he said, deceptively breezy. As if you'd just told him you planned to make tacos for dinner.
"When are you getting home?" you asked.
He heard the tone of your voice, like black silk. It sent a tendril of heat down his spine, raising the hairs on his forearms.
"Tonight," Dean said. Deeper, a note of gravel in his words. "I'll see you tonight."
"Good." Once again, he heard the smile in your voice. "I love you."
He sighed, and raised a hand to card through his hair.
"Love you too...even though you play too fucking much," he muttered the latter bit.
Your laughter once again reached his ears, reluctantly making him smile.
He hung up with you just before Sam finally opened the passenger seat door and climbed in with two hefty grocery bags. Did he do a whole damn shopping spree in there?
...Whatever. Dean shook his head and started the car.
"Change of plan," he said. "We're heading home."
"What? Thought we were gonna catch a few hours of sleep. It's a long drive, Dean," Sam said, earning his brother's gaze.
"Yeah, well, you'll live," Dean snarked. A more devious grin spread across his face. "I've got a date."
And she's about to get punished.
The Impala's tires screeched as Dean pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
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AN: Ha! This one was fun. 😘 Thanks for the prompt!
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strawberryscoop · 2 months
Text
after coffee
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader
Word Count: 294
Warnings: none!
Prompt: imagine stealing Dean's clothes
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Waking up in the dark motel room, you were freezing. The only light you could see with was from a streetlight outside. You sat up in bed next to Dean, just in your own t-shirt and shorts. You shivered, rubbing your hands up and down your arms. Why was it so damn cold in here?!
Looking around, you find one of Dean's hoodies and pull it over your head. You shiver a final time before shoving the blanket over yourself and huddling up next to Dean, still dead asleep. You rub your cold legs over his, desperately trying to warm up. He still doesn't move, thankfully. You don't want to bother him, he's had too long of a day with this case. You wrap an arm around his torso and slowly but surely fall back asleep.
You wake up feeling a kiss on your forehead.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," Dean coos, softly rubbing your shoulder.
You stir, snuggling your face deeper into the pillow. Dean settles in next to you and sets his steaming cup of fresh coffee on the motel's nightstand. He throws an arm over you, inviting you to cuddle with him. Barely opening your eyes, you groggily curl up next to him.
He looks you over, finally noticing you wearing his hoodie. "Comfortable?" He asks, his lip curling into a smirk.
"Huh?" You look down at yourself. "Oh, yeah. I was cold last night, was all I could find." You look up at him, your eyes barely able to stay open. "You want it back?"
He shakes his head and purses his lips, waving a hand. "Nah, you keep it. I can get more."
You smile and bury your head into his chest, "Good, I wasn't planning on giving it back."
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Text
Roadhouse
Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18 contains smut
Summary: You have had feelings for Dean Winchester for a while and never thought you guys would be more than friends but on a case Dean's jealousy gets the best of him and the truth comes out.
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You set your takeout box on the desk and sigh, putting a hand to your head to rub between your eyebrows looking for some kind of stress relief. Detective Bass eyes you and sets his takeout box on the table separating the two of you and leans in, setting one of his hands on the table. His gaze is intense and it puzzles you further.
“We will figure this out” he finally says
He was partially correct, he just had the wrong “We”. You and Dean would figure this out, you had been on this case for two days now and still hadn't pinpointed what exactly was attacking the women in this town. You were utterly exhausted, this cheap pencil skirt keeps riding up, the fluorescent lighting is giving you a headache, and the autopsy results are starting to blur.
“Hey you want to turn in” he says, reaching around the table to rest his hand on your thigh. Don't get it twisted, Detectives Bass’s sharp features, dark hair, and lean build could make any woman's head turn however you have had a certain hunter on your mind and had for a while now. As if on cue you hear a familiar voice say
“Hope i'm not interrupting” Bass’s hand flinches back as Dean stands in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. 
He tensely walks forwards and takes a seat on your side of the table. Straightening his suit out as he does. He sends a look laced with daggers into your profile and you tense. You know he's as annoyed about this case as you were and try to let it go.
“You're not, we were just finishing up actually” You reply. You stand up and start to gather the files on the table when you look over. Dean's eyes aren't on you but on the detective across the table, His jaw is locked and his hand is clenched in a fist so hard that his knuckles are turning white. You turn your attention back to the papers and then look up and make direct eye contact with the detective. He was looking directly at you with his hand running over his bottom lip and chin, if you didn't know better you'd say that was lust in his eyes.
“Well it's been a pleasure working with you tonight Agent Seager…” he says referring to you, “... it's just been wonderful” He reaches a hand out intended for you to take, and you do. You shake his hand and he looks so deeply into your eyes, he might be able to see through you.
The silence is interrupted by Dean clearing his throat and standing and reaching his hand out to shake the detective's “Pleasures all mine” their hand meets and the tension is palpable. Dean is intense right now and it makes Bass shift on his feet. Your confusion was probably written on your face. Dean drops his hand but not his gaze and you put your hand on his upper arm to break the match. Dean looks at you annoyed, rolls his eyes and starts making his way towards the door with you following behind. You try to match his pace as you two hastily head toward the exit.
The big exit doors open and as soon as they do Dean turns back and without saying anything grabs your hand and starts literally walking you to the car. You're struggling to keep his pace and your mind is racing at his touch, but also his demeanor and why it is the way it is. You both come upon the car. You open the door and get in and slam it behind you, fueled by Dean's attitude. He does the same and you finally cut the tension as the engine roars to life and he pulls out of the parking lot.
“What is your issue?” You say snarkily
He says nothing and stares at the road ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
“Whatever” you say after realizing from the length of his silence that he had no intention of answering your question. You sit and contemplate what you could've done to annoy him so much and anticipate seeing the motel come into vision. But it doesn't. A run down roadhouse does. Probably even the gnarliest bikers wouldn't even touch this place yet, here we are. You snap your head in his direction the second he parks and say
“What in the actual hell are we doing here?” He rolls his eyes and looks over in your direction in one swift motion. He looks down your entire body and back up again to meet your eyes. This isn't unusual. You have caught him doing it before but never so blatantly and certainly not while harboring such annoyance for you, or what you thought was annoyance. You had always wondered if it meant anything to Dean the way you hoped it had.
It was hard to care that he was annoyed with you when he looks as stunning as he does. His tie is now loose, his jaw is sharp, his hair is slightly tousled from running hand through it occasionally on the drive to the roadhouse. It was possible you were also giving him a subconscious once over and he must have noticed. He smirks and his eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes.
“I'll forget you let Detective Bass have the pleasure of undressing you with his eyes if you join me for a drink” he says still smirking and with a bluntness that stirs something inside of you but you're quick to retort 
“I didn-”
“Yes or no..” he says interrupting and without breaking eye contact, still smirking.
Your mind is racing with all the possibilities right now, swimming with all the endless ways this night could unfold. All you can say is
“Yes” with that he grins a jackpot smile and opens his door to get out you're too stunned to move when your door opening breaks you from your thoughts. You turn and see Dean's hand stretched out for you to take. You follow your eyes up and meet his green ones and they're a shade that you've never noticed before with an apparent sparkle. You take his hand and allow him to lift you out of the seat of the impala. He shuts the door behind and you and you take one last glance at each other before you both head hand in hand into the rundown roadhouse.
He opens the door for you and and you're confronted with a loudly playing “Night Moves’ by Bob Seager, rainbow strobe lights and the smell of cheap beer and cigarettes. You look over at Dean with a look that says really? and he says 
“Oh cmon, give it a chance” and with that he takes his hand that was previously holding yours and grabs your waist and pulls you to him. You're tucked firmly into his side and he walks the both of you over to the bar and orders a beer, a shot of whiskey for himself and a tequila cran for you. Your favorite, he noticed.
The first round comes and goes and so does a second and half of the third before you need a bathroom. You wait for Dean to finish a genuinely engaging story, all of them have been you love just talking and getting to know him without the thought of the world's doom on your shoulders. Right now it feels like only you two matter and every word that spills from his beautiful lips fuels this. You say you'll be right back and he smiles as you silently slightly struggle to lift yourself off the seat, It felt like you had been on for way too long.
You make your way to the bathroom and open it up and find it's not as gross as you were expecting. Shocked and pleased, you head to the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is slightly disheveled from running your hands through it while talking with Dean, your dress shirt had opened an extra button and your skirt was becoming a little too short. You looked kinda hot in a messy sort of way but you decided to straighten yourself out and splash some water on your face to hopefully offset the alcohol coursing through your system at the moment.
You rest your hands on either side of the sink and try to compose yourself with use of your reflection when the door you thought you locked behind you opens and shuts. You quickly turn around to face the intruder and are met with Dean. He's staring at you in a way that takes your breath away and urge to curse him out for barging in. He looks at you the way you've always wanted him to look at you. He’s breathless himself when he slowly reaches his hand behind him to turn the lock on the door.
His eyes don't leave yours. He takes a few steps forward until you can feel each other's breath fanning over each other's cheeks. You can't think of anything else other than the hue of his green eyes, the few freckles he has, and how kissable his lips look.
“You drive me crazy… and you have for a while now” he says as he lifts his hand to brush some hair from the sides of your face.
“What-” you say, feeling like you're gasping for air.
“I can't see you with anyone else… ever'' there's a brief silence and then he tilts his head and whispers against your neck  “i adore you… you have no idea what you do to me..” his hands slowly and tenderly grasp your waist and you’re having trouble deciphering if this is actually happening or if that third tequila cran has you hallucinating on the sidewalk somewhere. All you know is his hands feel really real on your waist and his breath on your neck travels all the way down to where you want him most, that also feels very real.
“Say anything..please… I'll take anything right now…” He pulls back without taking his hands away from your waist, thankfully, the feeling is electrifying. His face has a tinge of worry of doubt and you can't stand it.
“I feel the same…” You say taking the sides of his face into your hands. You watch as the doubt is erased from his face and that jackpot Dean Winchester grin creeps its way onto his face once again.
“...I have for a while now” you say with your own grin. Proud of stealing his line and finally admitting your feelings to the man you adore. He leans in, sealing your lips and in this moment it feels fate. His hands move from your waist to the sides of your face as if he can't possibly get enough of you. The kiss is passionate, tender, everything you both ever wanted. Your hands ignite wildfires across each other's bodies as you explore and feel what you had both wanted more than anything for a long time now.
He places his hands on the sink behind you, caging you in and breaks the kiss to look down and steady himself. He feels ravenous right now and it's taking everything in him to not rip your clothes off and take you right here. You're not making it any easier as that is exactly what you want right now, it's exactly what you need. He looks up with his mesmerizing green eyes and says
“You have no idea how bad I want you right now...”
“Nothings stopping you...” you say in a whisper hovered against his lips while you regather the sides of his face into your hands. He kisses you again but this time with no sign of an end or hesitation. You pull his tie with both hands until it's undone and throw it to the floor. The kiss is feverish and intense. You love the feeling of him and he feels the same.
You start to undo the many buttons on his dress shirt and he starts to do the same to you almost as if in a race. You fling it off his shoulders and pull it down his strong arms. You help him slide yours down your shoulders and sneak a quick glance as it falls to the floor. You're both panting, desperate for air but even more desperate for each other. He carefully moves his hand over your breasts through your bra and just like that you're a moaning mess. 
“I want to see you… all of you” he says as he puts his hands back to your waist and turns you so you're facing the mirror. He unclasps your bra while standing behind you and slides the straps off your shoulders and as you watch as it falls off your frame onto the floor. He's kissing your neck and has his hand on the other side. His free hand is trailing its way from your nipple, to your stomach, to the ends of your now very ridden up pencil skirt.
He pulls it up all the way to your stomach and starts rubbing you through your panties. Soft circles to match the soft wet kisses all over your neck, the other hand moves down your chest and cups your breast and massages. His touch is euphoric and all you want is him. You can feel that all he wants is you from his hardness pressed onto your backside.
“You'll never want another man after what I'm going to do to you… I can promise you that sweetheart…” he whispers against your neck, while continuing to place soft hypnotic kisses, and rub circles over your clothed clit. You can see yourself unraveling through what glimpses you can catch in the mirror. You're rested against his toned chest with your head thrown back and eyes screwed shut moaning and gasping out Dean's name. He has just found his new favorite song.
When he pulls away, you snap your head to look in the mirror just to catch his devious eyes before he turns you once again to face him. He leans down and simultaneously reconnects your lips and lifts you so you're resting on the edge of the sink. His hands are on your thighs and he's standing between them. You guys are kissing all over each other. It's heavenly. You're both grinding against each other and you start to undo his pants and tug them down. He helps and pulls them the rest of the way down.
He's already hard and he's big. Bigger than you'd ever had. You take him into your hands and start pumping him eliciting a string of moans and grunts that only fuels you more. He’s wanted this for so long and it was about to happen. He takes himself from you and looks at you with a question, are you sure? You nod wanting nothing more. He smiles and kisses you again. He hooks a single finger around your panties and moves them to the side. He slides himself along your slick folds, relishing the feeling.
He slightly pushes the tip in and moves in and out slowly giving you time to adjust. He's panting and gasping at the tightness. You're grasping at his shoulders and loving the sensation. He pushes in further and you're singing his name in praise. He starts to move and then moves feverishly. You both have wanted this for so long you can't get enough. Youre hand are running everywhere over eachothers bodies and hes holding you in his strong arms as he fucks you. You can feel yourself unraveling and judging by the slight sloppiness of his thrusts, he's almost there as well. You tighten around him and cum which seems to set him over the edge and the next thing you feel is him spilling out of you. 
You're both a mess and simultaneously rest your heads on each other's shoulders trying to catch your breath.
“That was-”
“Amazing” he cuts you off and picks himself off your shoulder still breathless and gives you a quick kiss. Neither of you move, unsure if you ever wanted to leave this bathroom, this moment. You just stay in eachothers eyes for a bit.
“We should get going” you say with a smile crossing your arms around his neck
“So eager for round two?” he replies with that signature smirk grabbing your waist and pulling you off the sink to stand. He holds you there.
“If that's what it takes to get us out of this place faster than absolutely” you say with a laugh and it earns one from him as well. You both redress yourselves, helping each other along the way. You’re both smiling and giddy and it's just comfortable.
You both go to walk hand and hand out of the roadhouse bathroom and as soon as the door opens you're both greeted with an embarrassingly long line of skeevy bar patrons, all shooting daggered stares you and Dean's way. 
“Worth it” he says while looking at you, dare you say lovingly.
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wearywinchester · 8 months
Text
Soft Touch
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Comforting Dean might seem like a hefty task, but all he needs is you.
Requested by Anonymous: “request!! can you write something where the reader comforts dean after a bad day, it doesn’t have to be major trauma or anything just dean needing physical touch and not knowing how to ask for it and the reader making sure he’s comfortable and okay and just a bunch of fluff and comfort”
Warnings: angst, language, injury, alcohol, fluff
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The bunker was fairly quiet, near completely. Sam was tucked away in his room, and if you had to guess, he was probably doing research. It’s what he’d been doing in the library for a little while, sitting there quietly with a few lore books and his laptop before he gathered his stuff with a polite goodnight and went to his room.
Sam Winchester is the only person you know that decompresses after a hunt by researching for the next.
You heard the sound of his tv when you walked by, muffled and soft. The sound of your footfalls accompanied it, a soft set of taps on the cold floor as you wandered about in search of your beau.
He hadn’t been in bed at all, his side still made. It wasn’t uncommon for him, not really, but he’d had a rough day.
It was a seven hour drive back to the bunker, and he was damn near running on fumes because he hadn’t slept well the night before. The motel bed was not doing any favors, stiff and thin enough to feel the springs dig into your muscles. The dip in the center made an uncomfortable pit, and he was just about ready to snag you and sleep in the Impala. He couldn’t sleep nearly as well without you.
He was sore from the hunt, muscles aching and begging for a bath, but he wasn’t the biggest fan of them. He’d obtained a myriad of injuries, none serious or major, but the combination was a melting pot of misery when you put them together. Not to mention the constant state of war he’s in with his own mind.
The halls still smelled like dinner, pizza and a mix of burgers, something quick and easy. None of you had the energy to do more than takeout.
You heard the quiet hum of the lights lining the hall, and your sigh upon seeing an empty library, and an empty map room. The bathroom was empty too, and the Dean cave he’d set up. There was no note on the desk by the bed, so that was an indication he was still there.
But your search wasn’t very lengthy much to your relief, a simple glance into the kitchen revealing just the one you were looking for.
His back was to you as he stood at the sink. He’d discarded his shirt after dinner, a habit he’d gotten into as of late. He got hot very easily, and it was a simple and more comfortable solution. Besides, you wouldn’t complain about that.
The muscles in his back tensed and moved as he washed the dishes in the sink, those damn hotdog pajama pants sitting on his hips.
His hair was a bit tangled and mussed, brushing against the nape of his neck and curling outward. He’d been growing it out, same for his beard, a mixture of not having as much time to handle it and wanting to try something new.
You saw a half drank glass of whiskey on the table as you passed it, the uncapped bottle sitting next to it.
He knew you were there, heard the soft pattern of your footfalls, not to mention he could sense your presence regardless of hearing you or not. But it was confirmed when you reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear.
He pulled his gaze from the plate in his hand, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Thought you’d run off for good,” you teased, your eyes meeting his.
His chuckle was soft and sweet, accompanied by a shake of his head. “Ain’t runnin’ off without taking you with me, sweetheart.”
“Well, ain’t that a relief?”
You notice the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth, tired but surely present.
He rinses off that last plate, sticking it in the drying rack on the counter before wiping his hands dry on the tea towel draped over the sink. He turns to you, hands settling on your hips before they glide forwards, snaking themselves around your waist and tugging you closer. They were warm and calloused, the perfect combination.
You rested your hands on his chest, his skin warm and radiating to you. Your gaze shifts to the scrape on his shoulder, fading into a cut. He hadn’t tended to it, not really, nor did his mess with the one on his bicep and just above his beard on his cheekbone.
“How about we get you cleaned up, then head to bed?” You say, tipping your head back to look at him.
He took one of his hands from where it rested around you to settle by your cheek and tangle with the hair at the nape of your neck.
“You sayin’ I didn’t do a good job?” He asks, and you just barely saw the raise of his brow under the hair that fell over his forehead.
“Pretty much,” you answer with a shrug, a smile tugging at your lips at the sight of his frown and crease between his brows.
He tugged you in closer abruptly and you made a delighted noise of surprise, moving your hands from his chest to wrap up around his shoulders. His nose bumped against yours, the brush of his lips gentle before he they pressed a kiss on your own. It was lingering and sweet, borderline steamy before he parted, only to press one, two, three more to your lips.
“Trying to distract me?” You ask, furrowing your brows with a soft smile as you look at him.
He chuckles as he shakes his head, brushing your hair out of your face. “Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t have to try to do that.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to hide your smile, instead rolling your eyes as you wriggle from his arms.
“Sit down, Winchester,” you say, walking towards the cupboard.
You hear his sigh as you grab the first aid kit, freshly replenished a few days ago. You hear that sigh but when you turn around, sure enough he’s taken his seat at the kitchen table, swirling his unfinished glass of whiskey in his hand before gulping it down and pouring another.
Now it’s your turn to sigh, head shaking softly and he most definitely heard it.
You open the lid to the kit, pondering over what you wanted before it came to mind. You snagged a package of an alcohol wipe, and the small bottle of antiseptic, grabbing a small stack of gauze.
None of his injuries were severe, but it’s no good for any wound, superficial or not, to have dirt trapped in it while it tries to heal.
Anyone knew that. Anyone except Dean Winchester.
Well, it’s not that he didn’t know, he very much did. He just lacked a certain caring when it came to himself. And by lacking, he didn’t care at all. He was always that way. He cared enough to eat and bathe, to brush his teeth and at least have you brush his hair, though that was purely because he secretly not so secretly enjoys how it feels. But in actuality, he didn’t care much for himself, didn’t see a reason to.
In fact, the only reason he cared even a little bit was so he could be around to protect you and Sam, didn’t have anything to do with himself.
“No more liquor, De,” you sigh, capping the bottle and pushing it away from his reach.
You didn’t fail to notice the way he looked at you for it, brows furrowed and gaze narrowed. And you didn’t fail to notice the way those dimples formed by the corners of his mouth, barely visible through his beard but you knew with one hundred percent certainty that they were there.
That was his form of self care. A bottle of whiskey or a six pack of beer. But that was no form of caring at all, no form of soothing.
You simply lift your hand and run it over his head, caressing over his hair, your thumb brushing over his cheek softly. Your hand drops to rest under his chin, tipping his head back to drop a soft kiss to his lips, something that made your words sound not so bad to him now. So much so that he made a noise of discontent when you pulled away to tend to those wounds of his.
He didn’t care about a damn scrape or two, he wanted you.
You sigh as you tear open a couple packets of alcohol wipes, plucking one from its package and unfolding it.
You started with his arm, holding his bicep in your hand, cumbersome at best because he’d become quite muscular as of late. You noticed the slight twitch he’d made in reaction to the cold alcohol stinging the open scrape, but it’d barely shown on his face, hard for anyone but you to tell.
You cleaned away the excess dirt and blood with gentle swipes. You set down the dirtied wipe on the table, reaching for the gauze and bottle of antiseptic. You squeezed a generous amount on, returning your grip on his arm as you dabbed it directly on the scrape this time.
He may think you were being dramatic, you knew it did. It was only a few scrapes, the most superficial of injuries you can get. The equivalent of a paper cut in the world of hunting. But you were all about caring for your big, strong tough guy even if he couldn’t give a damn about any of it when it came to himself.
“You should really take better care of yourself after hunts, De,” you say, beginning to repeat the process on his shoulder.
“I ain’t gonna die from a couple of scrapes and scratches, sweetheart,” he says, as careless as ever, his tone lighthearted.
You exhale a huff, tossing the second wipe down in a more obvious show of your frustration.
“Would you want me to say that about myself?” You ask, brow raised in challenge.
“Y/n,” he said sternly.
You could tell he was angry, or the beginnings of it. His jaw was tense, along with his shoulders. You could feel it under your palm, a noticeable difference. Not to mention the look on his face alone was enough of a giveaway.
That crease between his brows never left, only deepened by your words. Those dimples were still adorning the corners of his mouth unable to be masked by the beard that framed his jaw. Nor could it hide the subtle flush in his cheeks, tinged with anger and frustration.
To him, the comparison was incomparable. So ridiculously, unbelievably able to be compared because he was not in the same bracket as you. He’ll, he’d die for you, and has. He’s sold his damn soul to a low life demon just so you would be okay, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat. He’d rather get torn to shreds by a werewolf, become some wendigo’s dinner, be made into some monsters toy than have so much as a hand laid on you.
The comparison between you and him was one he could not make. Because you were the world, a radiant being and far better than the angels he’s seen in his lifetime and he knows it for a fact. You were his world and he was simply a fleck in it. He’s always felt that way, and the whole idea has been putting a strain on him for as long as he can remember.
He always hated that you were a hunter, because dammit it scared him more than anything. He’s seen what monsters do to people, innocent lives. He’s seen what the life does to those who enter it, how it changes them, he’s one of them. He’s seen the sheer trauma it’s put you through, the agony and pain. He sees it with every case, every hunt that’s added to the endless chart.
If he thinks about it for too long, it’ll drive him insane, push him over the edge of emotion and into a fit of rage. And that, that reaction alone only adds to the self hatred he feels. To be an angry person when you’re so delicate and everything he wishes he could be. It spirals into every avenue.
He couldn’t bring himself to put caring about a scrape on himself at the same level as an injury on you. He couldn’t do it. Even so much as a paper cut on you would have him furrowing his brows. It’d need something as simple as a bandaid and he’d be sure to put it on, giving you hell if you tried to brush it off.
No matter the severity, if you were hurt in any way, shape, or form, it mattered to him.
He didn’t give a damn about himself, he gave a damn about you.
He didn’t say anything else, and you sighed, softening your glare and settling your hand on his other cheek.
You noticed the way he leaned into your touch, however, his hair falling in the direction it so pleased as he tilted his head and tipped it back, his eyes falling closed.
Dean Winchester was rough, tough and rugged. There was no denying that. He was stereotypical, and put up every front he felt he needed to. But when everything is stripped away, when it came down to it, Dean was a man of comfort. That’s really all he’s ever wanted, no matter how much he refused to say it.
But it’s a trait that’s guarded with extra security, one he tries to keep on lock down from you even, but he can’t keep that from his source of comfort. He’d be foolish to think he’d be able to keep that from you.
The subtle flush in his cheeks had accentuated his freckles, soft flecks kissing along his skin, almost comically delicate in contrast to the tough persona he puts on. Especially the way his lashes curled over top of them when his eyes were closed.
You were gentler this time if that were possible, gentler in comparison to the other two you just tended to. His skin was angry and red around the uneven scrape, some of it smudged lightly with blood and some not.
His beard felt prickly and soft all the same against your palm, the longest he’s ever let it grow. His hair fell over his eyes, glimmers of green breaking through as he opened them to look at you.
He didn’t say anything, just looked. His gaze is softer than it was moments before, looking at every detail he can soak in as if he’d never see them again. Quiet as he admired. His expression was unreadable, yet so openly blatant all the same.
You knew he’d calmed down from a couple minutes ago. You knew it with the way his hands grasped your hips and pulled you closer. You sat down on his lap, a soft sigh exhaling past your lips.
“Well, I was all done anyway,” you say, tone lighthearted and teasing as you toss what was in your hand to the side.
“Oh good,” he says, pulling you all the more closer.
He tucks you into himself as tightly as possible, and you feel how deeply he inhaled as his face settled against the crook of your neck briefly, felt his exhale against your skin.
This. This was all he ever needed. All the comfort he’d known and cared for.
His warmth was unbeatable, his skin smooth and heated as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
“I could get used to this no shirt thing, you know,” you said, soft but mischievous, that smile of yours plenty proof of it.
You hear his chuckle, see that half grin of his as he looks at you with half open eyes, a chunk of hair dipped between his brows in a damn prince charming sort of way.
“Yeah?” He inquires, though he knows your answer already.
You simply respond with a nod and a soft laugh that sends a feeling of warmth through his chest like it’s the first time he’s heard it. Nearly sent over the edge when that laugh presses to his lips and dissolves into a kiss.
Damn was he ever lucky, any tension he’s carried having long since dissipated just from your mere presence.
He’d felt absolutely miserable, purely stuck below the surface of his thoughts that never fail to drown him. But in that moment, it didn’t seem to matter so much. They could be thoughts to worry about some other time.
Because right now he’s got you.
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little-diable · 1 month
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Not a Ghost - Dean Winchester (smut)
I feel like my Dean fics are always just pwp, but I always try to weave in some plot points, promise. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: For the past ten years, Dean had been forced to accept that she was dead – dead because John hadn't been able to rescue her in time. But what happens when he stumbles upon her in a bar? Not a ghost, but alive and breathing.
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, reunion, John is a dick as always
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.3k words)
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“You’re staring, it’s getting creepy man,” Sam murmured his words as he gulped down another sip of his beer, eyes following his brother’s line of sight. Dean didn’t reply, eyes fixated on a woman standing a few feet away. The bar was crowded, packed with people neither Sam nor Dean wanted to interact with, and yet Dean’s eyes had been following her around ever since they had stepped into the bar almost an hour ago. “Dean, c’mon man.”
Sam’s hand met his brother’s arm, hoping to finally gain his attention, but Dean barely reacted. The older Winchester brother had his eyebrows furrowed, hand wrapped around the beer bottle he had barely drank from. It wasn’t the first time Sam had caught his brother admiring a woman, god, Dean was famous for loving “frisky women” after all, and yet this was something new, something Sam couldn’t understand. 
“Excuse me.” Dean rose to his feet, leaving his confused brother behind without explaining a thing to him. Sam could only watch Dean move through the crowd, coming to a halt in front of the woman whose face Sam hadn’t seen just yet. It was too loud for Sam to pick up on the words Dean spoke, words that forced the woman to slowly turn towards him. 
“What the fuck?” With the words rolling off Sam’s tongue, he jumped to his feet, full of confusion, not understanding what was going on. But before Sam could reach the two, she had tugged on Dean’s hand, pulling the man out into the cold. 
“How is this possible?” Dean’s words dripped with confusion, arms crossed in front of his chest as if he was trying to protect himself from her. It was too dark for (y/n) to pick up on the tears welling up in his piercingly green eyes, overwhelmed by the sadness washing through him, the sadness he had tried to swallow for the past decade. 
She wasn’t supposed to be here, wasn’t supposed to be breathing, wasn’t supposed to be alive. 
“How is what possible? You have the fucking nerve to speak to me again after ten fucking years of silence? You packed up and left, Dean!” Her angry words left Dean choking, taking a step back as if she had pushed him. For a second neither of them spoke, engulfed in silence and the sound of Sam slowly stepping closer. The taller brother kept his distance, yet he found himself just as overwhelmed by his emotions, unsure how to react.  
“What are you talking about? You are supposed to be dead, I mourned you for ten years, and now I find you here, alive.” Dean’s words dripped with anger, but Sam could clearly pick up on the sadness that thumped through his brother’s veins. This was fucked up, another level of fucked up.
“Dead? Dean, why should I be dead?” No longer was (y/n) close to screaming, she took a step closer to Dean who struggled to keep standing still, body begging him to move away from her. If Sam hadn’t been with him, he would have been sure that this was just his mind fucking with him, hallucinating the woman he had once been engaged to, the woman he had mourned for a decade. But as much as Dean wanted to speak up, to explain what was going on, he couldn’t, too choked up. 
(Y/n)’s now glassy eyes flickered to Sam’s, desperate for an explanation as she watched the taller brother take another step closer to interfere. He kept his voice calm as he spoke up, eyes flickering between Dean, who kept staring at her, and (y/n), “It was a Tuesday evening, dad came home after his hunt with you and told us that you died that day, that he had burned your body because there wasn’t any time to lose. He explained every detail, how you had been torn to shreds, how he had tried to save you, but was too hurt himself to react quick enough. I stitched him up that evening, he looked horrible, littered with scars, so there was no doubt, he must have told the truth.”
The gasp that left (y/n) was almost louder than the sob that tried to leave Dean, reminded of the day that haunted him every single night. Tears dripped down both their cheeks, eyes now unable to break contact. 
“He, uhm,” she had to clear her throat, trying to wipe away her tears with her sleeves. “That day he told me that you no longer wanted the engagement, but didn’t know how to tell me and that you left that night with Sam. I was so angry, so I also packed up and left, I couldn’t stay. John was with me for a few weeks.” Both brothers could still remember how they had packed their things, how Dean had been driven on by the need to disappear from the house that reminded him of (y/n), and how Sam knew that he couldn’t stay away from Dean, not knowing if he’d try to hurt himself. They hadn’t tried to get in touch with John for a while, guided by the anger of him not being able to save (y/n). 
“I will kill him.” Goosebumps rose on Sam’s skin at the tone of Dean’s voice, an unfamiliar tone, full of hatred. But Sam couldn’t blame Dean for his anger, he had been right there, watching his brother suffer for years on end, trying to drown his hurt in alcohol and one-night stands, addicted to hunts and the distraction they offered. Before Sam could even try to speak up, (y/n) had slung her arms around Dean’s waist, nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck. 
……
“It’s alright, Dean, I won’t let you leave. I promise.” Her voice echoed through the apartment, eyes set on Dean’s face. Sam had made his way back to the motel he and Dean were staying in, while Dean had driven (y/n) and himself back to her place. Neither of them could stop touching one another, still not believing that they were reunited after all these years. 
“I don’t know what to believe if I’m being honest, sweetheart. Deep down I always knew he was fucked up, but this? All for what?” Only now did Dean pick up on the hesitation tugging on her features. He rose to his feet with a huff, hand combing through his hair as he growled a raspy “Unbelievable”. 
“In those few weeks, he stayed with me, he tried to convince me that he was the better choice, that you had nothing on him. Of course, I didn’t give in, I guess that’s why he eventually left. And I haven’t heard from him since.” She didn’t dare meet his angry gaze, fumbling with her shaking fingers. (Y/n) tried to stop herself from crying once again, knowing that as much as she had struggled the past years, Dean has had it much worse, mourning the person he had wanted to marry. 
“I should have known, he was always fascinated by you, some weird obsession I should have paid more attention to. I am sorry, sweetheart, so sorry.” Dean’s hand found her chin, forcing her to lift her gaze. She didn’t get a chance to reply, words stuck in her throat as Dean kissed her breathlessly. The moan clawing through her urged Dean on, pressing her against the kitchen island. 
(Y/n)’s fingers found their way to his hair, tugging on his roots with as much strength that forced a growl out of Dean. They couldn’t part, didn’t want to break the kiss, it had been too long since they had gotten the chance to communicate their emotions in a raw way like this. But as much as they wanted to keep on kissing one another, they were also desperate for more, for Dean to bury himself deep inside of her. 
“How do you want me?” (Y/n)’s hazy eyes found his piercing green ones, tongue running along her lower lip. She pondered over his words, not once in the past ten years had she believed that she’d get another chance to be loved by Dean Winchester, and now she didn’t know what she wanted. Too many things she needed, too many choices he offered her. His fingers worked on her shirt, tugging it over her head, groaning as his eyes found her chest. Within seconds he had ripped her bra from her frame, lips finding her hardening nipples. 
“Fast, rough, fuck, I don’t care. I just need you inside of me.” She had ached for that familiar stretch, had ached for the feeling of his cock filling her, something she had thought of for all these years. Dean hummed, letting the sound vibrate on her skin as he palmed her breasts, while he nudged his hardening cock against her clothed cunt. Curses ripped through (y/n), head rolling back to let go of another heavy moan. 
Without another warning, Dean pulled away, turned her around and pressed her front down against the cold surface of her kitchen island. With quick fingers he had pushed her jeans and panties down her legs before she heard him unzip his jeans, before she heard him fumble with a condom wrapper, knowing that as much as he wanted to feel every part of her, they couldn’t risk anything, not now at least. 
“I’ll give you fast and rough, baby, but after that I’ll take my sweet time with you.” Dean had pushed into her before she could reply, forcing a deep moan out of the both of them. Both their bodies needed to adjust to one another, even though she was dripping for him, folds covered in her arousal, her cunt still struggled to take all of him. Deep breaths left them both, minds torn between the sweet sensation and the overwhelming wave of emotions clashing through them.
“Move, please. Fuck me like you would have done all these years.” The growl leaving Dean made her breath hitch in her chest, fingers reaching for the edge of the kitchen island to hold on. He pulled out of her only to thrust into her with more force, set on leaving bruises on her hips with the ferocious pace he was about to build. 
(Y/n)’s walls clenched around him, fluttering with every thrust that had her seeing stars. No other man had ever fucked her like Dean. Dean, the one she had always loved. Dean, the man she had wanted to grow old with. Dean, the man who had mourned a woman who had waited for his return for all these years. If there was one thing (y/n) was determined about, it was making things right, making up for all these lost years. 
Their bodies met with every thrust, allowing Dean to fuck her deep, hard, fast. It was perfect, cheesy almost with their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces. Dean’s fingertips were buried in the flesh of her hips, set on leaving bruises that matched those the kitchen island would leave behind. He was focused on marking her up, claiming her like he had done over a decade ago. 
“Jesus, sweetheart, you feel so good. I dreamt of this almost every night.” Dean’s raspy voice left her groaning, eyes squeezed shut to try and hold on. She didn’t want to cum just yet, didn’t want to let go when Dean fucked her this ruthlessly. (Y/n) was too choked up to reply, wanted to tell him how she had always dreamt of him, of the way he touched her, but she couldn’t, she could only moan for him. 
“You’re still so fucking tight, squeezing me just right. You’re close, aren’t you, baby?” An almost silent “Yes” managed to leave (y/n), coaxing a chuckle out of Dean as he let his fingers find her clit, rubbing her bundle to push her over the edge. She loudly moaned for him, giving into the call of her arising high with her eyes squeezed shut, walls clamping down on his cock. 
Dean kept fucking her, forcing his cock deeper into her with every thrust. Moans kept clawing through the both of them as (y/n) came on his cock, allowing Dean to fuck her through her high in search of his own. He kept thrusting into her, head rolling back as his cock twitched, about to fill the condom. The curses leaving Dean made her walls flutter once again, knowing that he’d fuck her all through the night. 
With a huff, Dean pulled out of her, throwing away the condom as she slowly turned around, facing him. He moved back towards (y/n) with a smile glued to his lips, hands cupping her warm cheeks to pull her in for a slow kiss.
“You’re still wearing it.” (Y/n) murmured the words as she reached for his hand, looking at the ring she had pushed onto his finger as he had asked her to marry him, wanting Dean to also wear a ring. Tears welled up in (y/n)’s eyes, thinking of all these years they had lost, years they could have spent together rather than apart.
“Of course I do, I couldn’t take it off, I didn’t even try to.” (Y/n) gave him a soft push back, redressed herself quickly before disappearing in another room – only to reappear seconds later. His green eyes found the ring he had bought her over ten years ago, unable to bite down his smile as she came to a halt in front of him, eyes finding his. 
“If you will still have me, I’d like to start wearing it again.” A choked sound left Dean, lips finding hers as he took the ring from her, pushing it back onto the finger it had once rested on all too comfortably. 
“I’ll always have you, sweetheart.”
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