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dianawinchester03 · 1 day

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Season 1, Episode 19 - Provenance

Series Masterlist

Third Person POV

The trio was at a bar, Dean chatting up a random girl. "Seven, four, two, zero" A gorgeous girl who was flirting with Dean, was giving him her number while Y/N ventured off on her own. Taking in the hot guy that was checking her out earlier. "So if that Brandy with a Y or with an..." Dean trails off when he notices Y/N and the guy (who introduced himself as Carson to Y/N) chatting, he began gripping his beer bottle, seconds away from crushing it in his hands.

He lost focus on the woman that was flirting up a storm with him, she scoffs when she realizes he stopped paying attention and walked away. Dean takes in every ounce of their interaction, the way Y/N batted her beautiful (e/c) eyes at Carson, the way she would lean in and brush her hand on his biceps, giggling when he said something funny.

He scoffs, pretty sure the guy can't be that funny to have Y/N laughing. Because her smile didn't meet her eyes and she didn't scrunch her nose the way she usually does when she's genuinely happy or laughing hysterically.

Meanwhile Sam was canvassing the newspaper for some cases. He stumbled upon an article titled, 'Couples throats slashed in their own homes'. He calls Dean over who nods, and gestures for him to call Y/N over. Dean happily does so, feeling joy because he has to go and break up Y/N's flirting fest.

When he looks over in Y/N's direction at the couch she and Carson were lounging on, her lips were locked with the strangers. An anger flares in Deans chest at the sight of the woman he loves locking lips with another man, his nostrils flaring. Sam watches curiously as Dean walks over, his feet padding heavily. He chuckles to himself at Deans blatant jealousy. Dean approaches the two who are in a heavy make out session and clears his throat.

They don't hear him the first time so he clears his throat again, this time more louder and obnoxious. Y/N is startled, groaning as she unlocks lips with Carson, "What?!" She grumbles wiping her mouth, clearly mad at the fact that Dean cockblocked her. "Sam seems to have found something" He said, his jaw clenching. Her expression changes when he says this.

Carson looks confused, his eyebrows furrowing at the interaction between Dean and Y/N. Dean is clearly jealous as he can't look at either of them, "You know this guy?" Carson asks her. She sighs, "Yeah, I'm sorry. Can you give me a sec?" She says apologetically. He smiles, nodding understandably. "I'll be right here" He smiles. "Thanks, I'll be quick" She replies smiling, flashing him a wink.

She then gets up and follows behind a seething Dean. "Dude, did you have to be a cockblock?" She grumbles annoyed. He just smirks to cover up his burning internal wounds, "Don't blame me, blame Sam. He cockblocked me too" He retorts smirking. Y/N scoffs in annoyance as they make their way to Sam's table. "Alright, I think I got something" Sam begins as they approach.

"Yeah, me too. I think we need to take a little shore leave, just a little bit" Dean says, looking back at the hot girl he was talking to. "What do you think, huh? I'm so in the door with this one" He brags pointing to the women who are glaring his way. "So, what are we today, Dean? Are we rockstars? Are we Army Rangers?" Sam says sarcastically. Y/N snorts, "You have to lie to get girls?" She laughs while eating the peanuts in the basket.

Dean glares at her while she gives him an innocent look, "We're Reality-TV scouts, looking for people with special skills" He says smugly, making Sam and Y/N chuckle. "I mean, hey, it's not that far off" Y/N jokes. "Amen to that" Dean toasts his beer. "By the way, she's got a friend over there. Probably hook you up. What do you think?" Dean says to Sam suggestively.

Sam shakes his head, "Dean, no thanks. I can get my own dates" He says. "Yeah, you can, but you don't" Dean mumbles. Y/N chokes on a peanut at this, "Jesus dude, that's cold" She says to Dean who just shrugs. "What's that supposed to mean?" Sam narrows his eyes at his brother defensive. "Nothing, what do you got?" Dean diverges the subject.

"Mark and Ann Telesca of New Paltz, New York we're both found dead in their home a just few days ago" Sam begins to tell them about the case. "Mhm" Dean responds a bit uninterested because he turnt around to gawk at a girl walking by. "Throats were slit. There were no prints, no murder weapons, all-" Sam stops talking, rolling his eyes when he realized Dean wasn't paying attention.

"Dean!" Y/N knocks on the table to catch his attention when she realized his eyes were trailing. "What? Huh?" Dean turns back, a bit confused. Y/N and Sam roll their eyes as Sam continues, "No prints, no murder weapons, all doors and windows were locked from the inside" Sam finished his explanation as Dean sips on his beer.

"Could just be a garden variety murder, you know? Not our department" Dean suggests. "No. Dad says different" Sam says, opening Johns journal and turning it to them. "What do you mean?" Y/N asks him. "Look. Dad noted three murders in the same area of upstate New York" He points to Johns entry's of the murders.

"First one right here, 1912, the second one in 1945 and the third in 1970, the same M.O. as the Telescas. The throats were slit, the houses were locked from the inside" Sam reveals to them as they both sip their beers. "Now so much time passed between the murder. That nobody tracked the pattern except for Dad. And he always kept his eyes peeled for another one" Sam tries to justify.

"And now we got one?" Y/N says. "Exactly" Sam responds. "Alright, I'm with you. It's worth checking out" Dean says. Sam smiles happily at this, "We can't pick this up till first thing, though, right?" Dean asks them. "Yeah, I guess?" Y/N says. "Sure" Sam adds. "Good" Dean smiles smugly, making his way over to a new set of ladies to flirt his way into a wild night.

Y/N rolls her eyes scoffing, she grabs Sam's beer, gulping it down as she tries to mask her clear jealously. I mean, she shouldn't be jealous, right? Sam notices the way Y/N chugs the beer, a sly smirk on his face as he looks down into his book. "What?" Y/N asks him when she notices the look on his face. "Nothing" He feigns innocence. She cocks her eyebrow at this but decides to brush it off.

She looks over to the couch to see Carson still there, she flashes him a quick wink before, "Hey, I'll meet you guys back at the motel" She tells Sam quickly who just responds with a simple "Mhm", going back over to Carson who was waiting for her at the couch, allowing herself to indulge in her own wild night.

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Y/N's POV

New Paltz, New York

The next day, we hit the road. Me and Sam just finished investigating the Telesca house. Dean is fast asleep in the passenger side of the Impala, sunglasses over his eyes to shield the light due to his banging hangover. Me and Sam share a mischievous look when we see this, "Honk the horn" I whisper to him. He snickers lightly as we both lean down on the drivers side.

Sam presses the horn, the loud honk filling the silent neighborhood and Deans eardrums, causing him to jump awake. "AHH!" He exclaims loudly, causing me and Sam burst out laughing hysterically. Sam jumps in the back while I jump in the drivers seat laughing. "Man, that's so not cool" Dean groans holding his head.

"We just swept the Telesca house with EMF. It's clean." I tell him as he takes his sunglasses off, squinting from the harsh light. "And last night, while you and Y/N were....out" Sam says vaguely, making us both smile. "Good times" Dean grins proudly. "Indeed" I agree, smirking to myself as I reminisce about my night with Carson. Yet I feel angry over the fact that Dean got with someone else too.

God I'm a hypocrite. Get over it Y/N!. "How the hell are you not hungover? You drank just as much as me." Dean asks me, cocking his eyebrow. I shrug, "I don't usually get hungover. It's a blessing" I reply sassily, flipping my hair dramatically. Sam chuckles at this, "I checked the history of the house. No hauntings, no violent crimes. Nothing strange about the Telescas themselves either" Sam tells us.

"Alright, so if it's not the people and it's not the house and uh...." Dean tries to think. "Maybe it's the contents, a cursed object or something" He suggests but I shake my head. "Nope. House is clean" I tell him. "Yeah, I know, you said that" Dean responds. "No, she means it's empty. No furniture or nothing" Sam says. Dean looks confused at this, "Where's all their stuff?" He asks us. Me and Sam share a look at this.

Later we pull into an art auction, being held in a rather fancy house. The parking lot swarmed with luxurious cars. As we walk in I felt a tad bit underdressed, seeing all the men in suits, ties and three piece suits, while women wore almost ball like dresses. I felt a bit insecure not gonna lie but gosh were they gorgeous.

Dean immediately starts grabbing finger foods, chowing down on them as we walk in. He offers me one but I shake my head. "No thanks" I say. He shrugs, stuffing it into his mouth. "Consignment auctions, estate sales. Sounds like a garage sale for Wasps, if you ask me" Dean mutters, I snicker at this as he stuffs a pig in a blanket in his mouth. "Can I help you guys?" We hear a posh males voice behind us.

We turn around to see a ageable man, staring at us suspiciously as if we were scum on the bottom of his shoe. "I'd like some champagne, please" Dean responds back in a equally snooty tone, his mouth filled with the food. The man looks at him in disbelief as I shake my head, facepalming. "He's not a waiter" Sam points out to Dean.

"I'm sorry about that sir, I'm Y/N Salvatore" I put my hand out to shake the man's, but he looks down at it, not taking it. I clear my throat awkwardly. "I'm Sam Connors and this is my brother Dean and his girlfriend Y/N Salvatore. We are art dealers, with Connors Limited" Sam lies on spot. Dean and I look at him confused when he introduces as Deans girlfriend but I just roll with it.

"You're...art dealers?" The man asked us stunned. "That's right" I say sweetly, trying to not punch this man by his disgusted look on his face, his eyes scanning us up and down judgementally. Some rich people, I swear. "I'm Daniel Blake. This is my auction house" The man introduces himself as Dean looks around impressed, chewing on the food.

"Now, this is a private showing, and I don't remember seeing you on the guest list" Daniel says plainly. "We're there, Chuckles, just take another look" Dean scoffs cockily. Me and Sam look at him as if he's crazy, he then turns around to see a waiter with a tray of champagne. "Oh. Finally. Hmm" He exclaims in relief, taking two.

He hands one to me, "Here you go, Princess" He winks at me, I take it from him, shaking my head as he sniffs the glass before pumping his eyebrows smugly at Daniel. "Cheers" I say awkwardly to a clearly pissed off Daniel. Both me and Sam following behind Dean.

The boy and I begin to look around the items that had the Telescas name on it. My gaze then lands on a old painting of a family portrait, consisting of two young boys, a young girl and their parents. By just looking at it, I knew that had to be our cursed object because the second I laid eyes on it, I got that same feeling of chills behind my neck.

Hello old friend, how I've missed you (note the sarcasm) I hated that damn feeling.

"Fellas, look at this" I point to the painting. They both caught my attention, giving the painting a once over before, "A fine example of American primitive, wouldn't you say?" We hear a woman's voice behind us. We all look up the stairs to see a breathtakingly gorgeous dark haired young woman, no older than me and Sam, walking down the stairs dressed in a beautiful black dress paired with some stiletto heels.

"God damn" I whisper to myself, taken back by her beauty. Dean has a smirk on his face, we both then tap Sam on his shoulder for him to reply because she was clearly talking to him. "Well, I'd say it's more Grant Wood than Grandma Moses" Sam retorts intellectually. The girl looks down smiling.

"But you knew that. You just wanted to see if I did" Sam says in realization. She smiles coyly, "Guilty." She admits making Sam smile widely. "And clumsy. I apologize. I'm Sarah Blake" She introduces herself, putting her hand out to shake Sam's while Dean reaches to another waiters tray, taking up a mini quiche. He hands me one again but I shake my head. He shrugs, stuffing his mouth with more finger food.

"Im Sam. This is my brother Dean and his girlfriend Y/N" Sam introduces us. She puts her hand out to shake mine. I take hers gladly, shaking it. "By the way, loveee the heels. You are so gorgeous!" I compliment her smiling. "Thank you girl! You are stunning, love the leather jacket" She returns the compliment, which makes me feel so appreciated.

"Thank you" I smile gratefully. "Dean. Can we get you some more mini-quiche?" She then turns to Dean. "Mm-mm. I'm good. Thanks" Dean responds chewing on his food contently. "So can I help you with something?" She asks Sam with a bit of a flirtatious tone. "Yeah, actually. Um, what can you tell us about the Telesca estate?" Sam asks her.

"The whole things pretty grisly, if you ask me, selling their things this soon, but Dads right about one thing: Sensationalism brings out the crowds. Even the rich one" She admits, we all look at each other like, 'What the hell?' But cover it up with fake smiles. "Is it possible to see the provenances?" Sam asks hopefully. "I'm afraid there isn't any chance of that" Daniel chimes in.

"Why not?" I ask him confused. "You're not on the guest list" He says harshly then turning to Dean. "I think it's time to leave" He adds. "Well we don't have to be told twice" Dean retorts sassily. "Apparently you do" Daniel counters. "Okay, it's alright. We don't want any trouble sir" I say calmly, trying to de-escalate the situation. "We'll go" Sam adds.

Dean walks off first and I follow behind, when I look back I see Sam with an apologetic look on his face towards Sarah, which she returns. Awwww, Sammy has a crush. Hopefully he gets laid too. Not to sound like Dean, but the dude needs it, honestly.

"Grant Wood, Grandma Moses?" Dean asks Sam in a questioning tone about his conversation with Sarah as we make our way to our motel room. "Art History course." Sam responds. Me and Dean look at him confused "Art History?" I ask questionably. "It's good for meeting girls" He shrugs. Me and Dean look at him shocked, "Who are you and what have you done with my prude of a best friend?" I feign a mock surprised tone.

"It's like I don't even know you" Dean says ironically as Sam scoffs. When Dean opens the motel room door, it reveals a retro 70's themed area. Weirdly enough, it wasn't bad looking. "Huh" The boys and I say in unison before dumping our bags on the ground. Unfortunately the room only has two beds. "Dude, you said the room had three beds" I groan at Sam.

He shrugs innocently, "Huh? Really? I told them three. Maybe they got it mixed up" He said, his eyes not meeting mine. I cock my eyebrow at this, not convinced. "I'll just go book my own room then because I am not sleeping on that thing" I say, pointing to the metal chair, going to walk out the door. "Wait, no! I don't mind sharing" Dean says casually, stopping me. I turn back surprised.

"You sure?" I ask him. The thought of sharing a bed with Dean again is exciting. It's weird, usually I would've been chill about it but right now, I'm trying not act all giddy. "Yeah....you'd save money too" Dean says nonchalantly, clearing his throat. I just shrug, "You're right I guess. Thanks" I say gratefully, Dean smiles in return to me before turning to Sam. "Now, what was the providence?" He asks him.

"Provenance" Sam corrects him as Dean mouth the word mockingly. "It's a certificate of origin, like a biography, you know? We can use em to track the pieces history. See if any has got a freaky past" Sam explains. "That painting of that family...it gave me a weird feeling- if you ask me if it's my ESP feeling, Dean, I will slap you" I tell them, not before turning to Dean and shooting him a warning look.

He already had his mouth open to most likely ask me the same question, it snaps shut when I warn him, a smug look on his face. "We'll look into it." Sam says. "Well, we're not getting anything out of Chuckles, but, uh, Sarah..." Dean says to Sam suggestively. "Yeah, maybe you can get her to write it all down on a cocktail napkin" Sam retorts, this makes me chuckle.

"Good one" I commend, giving him a high five which he returns. Dean laughs shaking his head, "Not me" Dean says. "Oh, no, no, no" Sam laughs. "Pick ups are you guys' thing" Sam adds. "It wasn't our butts she was checking out" I snort as I unpack my bag, me and Dean giving Sam a suggestively look.

"In other words, you want me to use her to get information" Sam shakes his head. "Sometimes you gotta take one for the team." Dean smirks. I take my phone out and hand it to Sam, "Call her" I instruct him. He sighs, taking the phone.

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Third Person POV

After Sam called Sarah and asked her to dinner, Y/N and Dean decided to stay in, order take out and watch a movie. They settled for 2 Fast 2 Furious. Currently they're buckled over, laughing hysterically at a scene of Roman Pierce clowning some Latino guys, "Elian and Fidel. ¿Que pasa jota?" Roman pops up from the side of the car drivers side window before spraying the windshield.

They burst out in a fits of laughter. "This guy is hilarious" Y/N snorts in laughter. "Here I was thinking you were a Paul Walker kind of gal" Dean jokes, nudging her slightly as she munches on popcorn. "Oh I am, but Roman however, is sexy. Paul Walker can still get it though, god damn" She groans, wolf whistling, making Dean chuckle. "You really got a thing for guys nice eyes huh?" He smirks, leaning in closer to her on the bed.

She peers her head to look at him, his eyes piercing hers. She holds back a blush at the way Deans eyes settled on her lips. "You could say that" She whispers coyly, her eyes flickering down to his lips. Their faces just inches away from each other. "What else do you notice in a guy?" He asks her curiously. Y/N taps her pointer finger on her chin as if she's thinking deeply.

Dean chuckles, throwing some popcorn into his mouth, chewing as he waits for an answer. "I'd say, their lips. I got a thing for kissable lips." She answers flirtatiously, tugging the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. "Oh yeah?" Dean cocks his eyebrow at this, his tongue darting down to moisten his own lips. Y/N's tone alone is making him feel to just grab her and make love to her right there.

When Y/N catches herself staring, she quickly rebounds. "Yeah...what about you?" Y/N clears her throat looking back down at her popcorn. "I don't know. Maybe the way women walk. I love it when a girl knows how to sway her hips" Dean tone is low and husky. Y/N could feel herself get turnt on by the second the way Dean was talking. Her gazes snaps back up to his, Dean now invading her personal space, not that she minds.

"Oh yeah?" She asks lowly, a coy look in her eyes. Deans heart skips a beat at this. "Yeah" Dean responds, a primal look in his. "Hey guys, I got the- Woahh!" Sam enters the room, papers in hand. Y/N and Dean who were inching closer to each other, just seconds away from lips connecting. They pull back startled at the sound of Sams voice. Having almost gotten caught in the act.

"Crap, sorry, did I interrupt something?" Sam asks them sheepishly, stuttering as he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. Dean sends a harsh glare his brothers way while Y/N shakes her head. Her heart beating out of her chest rapidly. "Nono. It's fine." She says quickly. "What'd you find?" She asks him, handing Dean the bowl on popcorn. She pushes herself to sit at the edge of the bed.

While Dean seethes internally at the fact that Sam just barged.

Y/N's POV

HOLY CRAP. We almost kissed! Was he gonna kiss me? Did he want to kiss me? Maybe I'm just being delusional. Calm down y/n!

"What'd you find?" I ask Sam, trying to change the subject. "Sarah gave me the provenances" Sam tells us, taking a seat on the chair. Dean moves at the edge of the bed next to me, he pulls out his knife and begins sharpening it on a file. "So she just handed over the providences to you?" Dean cocks his eyebrow. "Provenances" I correct him. "Provenances?" Dean queries.

"Yes, and we went back to her place. I got a copy of the papers..." Sam explains, sorting through the papers. "And?" Me and Dean ask in unison. "And nothing. That's it. I left" Sam says firmly. "That's it?" I say surprised. "You didn't have to con her or do any special favors or anything like that?" Dean asks him suggestively. Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance, resting the papers harshly down on his lap.

I chuckle at this, getting up to take the papers from Sam. "Guys, would you get your minds out of the gutter, please?" Sam says annoyed. We chuckle at his reaction. "Hey, you know when this whole things done. We could stick around a little" Dean suggests. "Why?" Sam asks. "So you could take her out again. It's obvious you're into her" I say bluntly, my eyes still focused on the papers as I take a seat next to Sam.

"Even I see that" Dean adds. Sam looks at the both of us like we're crazy, "You know, for people who can see when others are into each other, you're really blind when it comes to yourselves" Sam mutters. "Huh?" Dean and I say in unison, confused. "Nothing" Sam sighs exasperatedly shaking his head.

My eyes scan a statement on the paper and I grin happily at the fact that I was right. "Hey, I think I got something here" I tell them. Dean puts his knife and sharpener aside and comes behind us. I hand them the papers as Dean reads aloud. "Portrait of Isaiah Merchants family, painted 1910" Dean reads aloud.

"Now compare the names of the owners with your dads journal" I point out to them. Realization dawns on Sam, he quickly grabs the journal on the table and opens it as Dean takes a seat across from us. "First purchased in 1912 to Peter Simms." Dean reads from the paper. "Peter Simms murdered in 1912" Sam reads from the journal.

The boys share looks of disbelief as they look through the book and papers. "Same thing in 1945. Oh, same thing in 1970" Dean reads aloud. "Then it was stored until it was donated to a charity auction last month, till the Telescas bought it" Sam tells us. "Damn, you were right, princess. screw the EMF. We're using Ms. ESP here for everything now" Dean smirks.

I snort, shaking my head. My heart skips a beat when he praised me. "Shut up charming" I chuckle. "Hey! I'm the one that did the digging" Sam exclaims defensively. A smirk takes my face over, "Oh how terrible of us for not giving you credit. Thank you Sammy for your service of going out with a hot girl who wants to jump your bones to a fancy restaurant. It was so brave of you." I say dramatically, placing a hand over my heart. This makes Dean belt out laughing.

Sam tosses a pillow at me jokingly, a tinge of pink on his face. I dodge the pillow quickly, laughing. "Bite me" He retorts, flipping me the bird. Me and Dean laugh loudly. "So what do you think? Is the painting haunted or cursed?" Sam asks us after we sober up. Dean shrugs, putting the pen in his hand down. "Either way, it's toast" He says with a smug grin.

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Later that night, the boys and I scale the large metal gate into the auction warehouse, running towards the entrance before the alarms go off. Sam expertly disarms, gloves on our hands, the alarm system so that when we break in, it doesn't go off. My lock pick in my hand, awaiting the signal to pick the lock. "Go ahead" Sam whispers. I nod and begin the pick the lock.

Within seconds we're in. We turn on our flash lights to guide our way into the dark house, gently locking the door behind us as we search the auction house for the painting. Dean flashes his light up the stairs, finding the painting. We all share a look before running up the spiral stairs, Dean holds the light up as I pull my new butterfly knife from out my boots, flicking it open to cut the painting out.

I rip it out of its frame and hand it to Dean, we then made our way out to the Impala. Driving a little further down the stretch, Dean then pulls into a empty lot. The three of us get out as Dean rests the painting on the ground. I go around to baby's trunk to get the light fluid, then drenching the painting with the accelerant.

"Ugly ass thing" I mutter grimacing as Sam shines the light on the painting. "If you ask me, we're doing the art world a favor" Dean mutters back snorting as I flick my lighter, the flame bursting through the mouth. "Ain't that the truth" Sam agrees, I toss the lit lighter onto the painting, the entire canvas bursts into flames.

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"We got a problem, I can't find my wallet" Dean says panicked as me and Sam pack our clothes the next morning, ready to leave town. "How is that our problem?" Sam asks him sarcastically. "Because I think I dropped it in the warehouse last night" Dean responds shakily. My eyes snap over to him, "You're kidding, right?" I ask him shocked, praying he's joking. Sams expression mirrors mine.

Dean shakes his head, putting on his jacket quickly. "No. I mean, it's got my prints and my ID- Well, my fake ID anyway" He points out. "But, we gotta get it before somebody else finds it. Come on" Dean adds urgently. Me and Sam share a look of disbelief as we throw our jackets on quickly, rushing out of the motel room.

Now back at the auction warehouse, the boys and I search around the areas we were last night. Making sure not to draw too much attention to ourselves. "How do you lose your wallet, Dean?" I grumble at him annoyed. Dean just shrugs as we look around. "Hey guys" We hear a familiar voice behind us, startling us all.

We turn around to see Sarah, Sam with a box in his hand, rests it down quickly. "Sarah, hey" Sam smiles as me and Dean try to act casual. I feel something below my right boot when I turn around, I look down to see it's Deans wallet. I kneel down and pretend I'm tying my shoelaces, picking it up in a swift motion.

"What are you doing here?" She asks us sweetly. "Oh. Uh-" Sam turns and looks at us when I stand back up, a pleading look on his face that says, 'Help me out here'. We just shrug, not knowing what to say. I nudge Dean with my elbow, his eyes snapping to me. I hand the wallet behind my back and he smirks. "We- We are leaving town. And, you know, we came to say goodbye." Sam lies terribly.

Me and Dean groan at this, "Oh. What're you talking about Sam? We're sticking around for at least another day or two" Dean chimes in, I nod agreeing. Sam looks at us confused. "Sam, by the way, I'm gonna go ahead and give you that 20 bucks I owe you" Dean pulls out his wallet and digging into it, indicating we found the wallet

"He always forgets, you know. He wouldn't know the difference between his head and his ass sometimes if it weren't for me" I add jokingly smiling, looping my arm through his, to aid into the whole act of us being a couple. Realization dawns on Sam's face as Dean pulls out the twenty dollar bill. "True that" Dean agrees chuckling. "There you go" He hands Sam the bill, which he snatches.

"Well, we'll leave you two crazy kids alone. We gotta do something...somewhere..." Dean tries to lie our way out of this lamely. I chuckle, flashing Sarah a wink, my eyes darting between her and Sam suggestively. She returns the wink, a blush prominent on her face. "Come on, sweetheart" Dean wraps his arm around my waist as we walk out of the room.

"You are so not slick" I whisper to Dean as we walk to Baby. "I can be, gotta make him feel awkward" He retorts smirking. I shake my head laughing, my eyes flicking down to his hand that's still around my waist and back up to his eyes. "Oh, sorry" He chuckles awkwardly, removing his arm from around my waist, scratching the back of his neck.

"It's fine" I assure him, smiling. He smiles back, clearing his throat. We both lean against Baby and my mind plays back to the other night when we almost kissed, my heart pounding through my chest. "So um...about the other n-" Dean goes to start talking about what I presume is about the night we almost kissed but Sam comes running out of the house, almost tripping over himself, "GUYS!" He yells urgently.

This makes Dean groan in annoyance, "What? What's wrong?" I ask him concerned at the way he sounded. "The painting, it's still in the building!" He says urgently. We all share a stunned look, jumping into baby so we can talk in private. "I don't understand, guys. We burned the damn thing" Sam says. "Yeah, thank you Captain Obvious" Dean huffs sarcastically, making Sam roll his eyes.

"Alright, we just need to figgier out another way to get rid of it....Any ideas fellas?" I try to defuse the panic. "Okay, alright. Well, I'm, in almost all the lore about haunted paintings, it's always the paintings subject that haunts them." Sam tells us. "Yeah? We need to figure out everything there is to know about that creepy ass family in that creepy ass painting" Dean says. "What were their names again?" I ask Sam.

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We decide to hit the local library and dig up any information we can find on the Merchant family. The librarian, an old balding man with Harry Potter like glasses, sets down a dusty old book on the table, "You said the Isaiah Merchant family, right?" He asks us to be sure. "Yeah, that's right" Sam confirms. "I dug up every scrap of local history I could find" He tells us excitedly as Dean walks towards us.

Reading a graphic novel, chuckling to himself. "So, uh, are you kids crime buffs?" He asks us curiously. "Kind of" I respond vaguely, looking at both of the boys. "Yeah, why do you ask?" Dean asks him. "Well..." The librarian begins, holding up an old news paper from 1904 with the Headline being,

'New Titanic Sinks. 1304 Persons Go To A Watery Grave' with a article next to it saying.

'Father Slaughters Family, Kills Self'.

"Yes. Yeah, that sounds about right" Dean says as squint my eyes to read the article. "The whole family was killed?" Sam asks him surprised. "It seems this Isaiah, he slits his kids' throats, then his wife, then himself. Now, he was a barber by trade. Used a straight razor" The man explains the case to us in a fascinated tone.

"Why'd he do it?" I ask him curiously. "Well, let's look" He says, turning the paper around to read the article. "People who knew him described Isaiah as having stern and harsh temperament." He begins to read, the boys and I share a look as he continues to read.

"Controlled his family with an iron fist. Wife, two sons, adopted daughter. There were whispers that the wife was gonna take the kids and leave. Uh, you know, which, of course, in that day and age- Um, so instead, old man Isaiah, well, he gave them all a shave" The man explains in a funny manner, laughing at his last comment.

Dean chuckles at his comment as me and Sam look at him blankly. His smile drops and he clears his throat, "Did he say what happened to the bodies?" Dean asks him. "Just that they were cremated" The librarian says. Well shit. The boys and I sigh disappointed because this is gonna be much harder than we I initially thought. "Anything else?" Sam asks him.

"Yeah, actually. I found a picture of the family. It's right here somewhere" He says, digging through the old book. "Right. Here it is." He says, opening the book to reveal the almost identical picture as the portrait. My breath hitches when I see the picture.

Me and Sam share a look when we stare at the picture.I'm pretty sure the painting back at the house, the dad was looking down at the little girl in it, but this one, the dad is looking out.

"Hey, could we get a copy of this, please?" I ask the old man kindly. "Hmm, sure" He says a bit confused but does so.

________________________________

Now back at the motel room, Sam sitting next to me at the table while Dean sits across from us. I turn to copy of the picture towards Dean. "I'm telling you, guys. I'm sure of it. Painting at the auction house. Dad is looking down. Painting here, Dads looking out. The painting has changed fellas" I try to convince Dean, Sam taking my side.

"I saw it too man. We're not crazy" Sam agrees. So you guys think Daddy Dearest is trapped in the painting and is handing out Colombian neckties like he did with his family?" Dean says questionable. "Yeah, it seems like it" Sam says as I nod. "But if his bones are already dusted, how are we gonna stop him?" I ask them.

Dean takes the picture up to look at it, "Alright, well if Isaiah's position changed, then maybe some other things in the painting changed as well. You know, it could give us some clues" Dean suggests. "What, like a Da Vinci Code deal?" Sam asks. Dean looks up at us confused.

"I don't know. I'm just still waiting for the movie on that one" He says sheepishly. We shake our heads. "Anyway, we gotta get back in tomorrow and see that painting" I say, getting up and going over to the bed. I plop myself on it, ready to hit the sack. Dean follows behind me, "Which is a good thing because you can get some more time to crush on your girlfriend" He teases his brother, plopping next to me.

I chuckle as he mocks Sam. "Dude, enough already" Sam groans exasperated. "What?" Dean says innocently, crossing his arms over his chest as I push myself up to brace against the headboard. "What? Ever since we got here, you two have been trying to pimp me out to Sarah" Sam says annoyed, his voice raising.

"Just back off, all right?" He huffs. "Well, you like her, don't you?" I ask him. He sighs, looking up at the ceiling in annoyance, not answering. "Alright, you like her, she likes you, you're consenting adults" I grin widely, nodding my head suggestively. "What's the point, Y/N? We'll just leave. We always leave" Sam snaps, becoming more agitated.

"We're not talking about marriage, Sam" Dean says, chuckling along with me at Sam's outburst. Dean closes his eyes and leans his head against the headboard. "You know what, I don't get it. Why do you guys care if I hook up?" Sam defends, his tone sounding a little sad. "Because then you wouldn't be so cranky all the time" Dean shoots back calmly, opening one eye to look at Sam.

Sam huffs in frustration and lets out a scoff. My mouth is agape when he says this, "Dude!" I smack his arm. "Ow! What?" Dean groans, clutching his arm. "Too far man" I grumble lowly, shooting him a warning look. Deans eyes flicker to Sam, he then sighs and gets up, leaning forward on the edge of the bed when he notices Sam's expression.

"You know, seriously Sam, this isn't about just hooking up, okay? I mean, I think that this Sarah girl could be good for you" Dean says. Sam shakes his head, scratching it. "And I don't mean any disrespect, but I'm sure that this is about Jessica, right?" Dean says calmly. Sams eyes snap over to us at the mention of Jessica.

"Now, I don't know what it's like to lose somebody like that...but I would think that she would want you to be happy" I say in a calm respectful genuine manner. Tears welling up in Sam's eyes. My heart pangs, knowing that he's holding back because of how he lost Jessica. I sigh sadly. "And god forbid, have fun once in a while, wouldn't she?" I say softly, resting my hand on his shoulder.

He smiles softly at what I assume is probably a memory of Jess, "Yeah, I know she would" He says softly. I offer him a small smile which he returns. Sighing he admits, "Yeah you guys are right, part of this is about Jessica. But not the main parts". Sam says. "What's it about?" Dean asks. Sam looks down and doesn't answer.

"Yeah, alright" Dean scoffs, laying back down on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest as he closes his eyes. "We still gotta get that painting, which means you still gotta call Sarah, so..." I say to Sam, he nods understandably, picking up his phone to dial Sarah's number.

He clears his throat as he puts the phone to his ear, "Sarah, hey, it's Sam." Sam begins awkwardly, Dean opens one of his eyes to look at Sam, keeping one closed. "Hey, Hi....Good. Good, yeah. Um, what about you?" He smiles. I chuckle at his stuttering, "Smooth" Dean whispers sarcastically to his brother. I shake my head smiling as Sam glares at Dean.

"So, uh...So listen, me, my brother and his girlfriend were, uh, thinking.." He stutters again, me and Dean roll our eyes at his awkwardness. "...that maybe we'd like to come back in and look at the painting again. I think maybe we are interested in buying it" Sam says, he then gets up from his chair suddenly.

Me and Dean push ourselves up when we see the urgency in his face, "Wait. What? Who'd you sell it to?" He asks her. "Sarah, I need an address right now" Sam says in a serious tone as we all look at each other panicked.

________________________________

We pull up across the street from the house that Sarah gave us the address to. All rushing out of the car, we see Sarah jump out of hers. "Sam, what's happening?" She asks Sam in a panicked tone. "I told you, you shouldn't have come" He said in a warning tone as we all run up the stairs to the porch, Sarah running behind.

"Hello. Anybody home?" I yell as I bang the door with my fist. "You said Evelyn might be in danger. What kind do danger?" Sarah asks us. Dean tries to kick the door down but it's too strong. "I can't knock this down" Dean groans. "You gotta pick it" He says turning to me. I nod, pulling my lock pick out of my wallet.

I kneel down and begin picking the door as Sam goes over to the window. "What are you guys, burglars?" Sarah says fearfully, going over to Sam. "I wish it's that simple. Look, you really should wait in the car. It's for your own good" Sam says to her. I finally get the door unlocked and push it in.

"The hell I will. Evelyn's a friend" Sarah growls running in behind us. In any other situation I would've laughed at this and cheered her on for standing her ground. But nows not the time. "Evelyn?" Sarah calls out for her. "Evelyn" Sam calls out. We walk in to see a woman sat at the couch in the large living room, her back to us.

She isn't moving and doesn't respond. "Evelyn?" Sarah calls for her again but no response. We look up to see the creepy ass portrait sat at the top of the fireplace, the father looking down at the daughter. The boys and I share a skeptical look as we walk towards her. "Evelyn? It's Sarah Blake. Are you alright?" Sarah goes to put her hand on her shoulder.

"Sarah, no. Sarah don't!" I try to warn her but it's too late. Evelyn's head comes rolling back, her throat slit to the point she's nearly decapitated. Sarah lets out a terrified scream as Sam hold her, trying to pull her out of the room. "Oh my god! Oh my god!" She screams, gasping in terror as Sam takes her out. I look back up at the painting to see the father move his head, now looking back out at us.

________________________________

The next morning, we're back at our motel room. Sam is pacing nervously as we wait for Sarah to get back from the police station. "She wont sell us out, Sam" I try to assure him. "How're you so sure?" He huffs. "Call it intuition" I shrug. We hear a knocking at the door. Sam quickly opens it and in walks a angry Sarah, "Hey, you alright?" Sam asks her concerned.

"No, actually. I just lied to the cops and told them I went to Evelyn's ALONE and found her like that" She says annoyed. "Thank you" Sam says gratefully. "Don't thank me. I'm about to call em right back if you don't tell me what the hells going on. Who's killing these people?" She threatens. Sam sighs, looking over at me and Dean, sat at the table.

We both give him a look that says, 'Give her the talk'. "What" Sam says plainly. "What?" Sarah asks confused. "It's not 'who'. It's 'what' is killing those people" Sam says vaguely. She looks still confused. "Sarah, you saw that painting move." Sam says. Sarah scoffs, shaking her head. "No. No. I was- I was seeing things. It's impossible" She denies.

"Yeah, well welcome to our world" Dean says to her, flashing her a small smug smile. Her face contorted with disbelief. "Sarah, I know this sounds crazy...but we think that that painting is haunted" Sam tells her honestly. Tears wells in her eyes but she cries to smile it away, "You're joking" She says to us.

The seriousness of the situation didn't leave our faces and her smile dropped. "You're not joking" She sighs, terrified. "God, the guys I go out with" She shakes her head. "I get it, hun." I snort, agreeing with her. Dean cocks his eyebrow at me and I shrug innocently. He smirks, shaking his head. "Sarah, think about it. Evelyn, the Telescas, they both had the painting. And there have been others before that. Where ever this thing goes, people die." Sam tries to reason with her, her gaze down at her shoes.

"We're just trying to stop it. And that's the truth" Sam adds genuinely. She nods, looking back up at Sam. "Well, then I guess you better show me. I'm coming with you" She insists, "What? No, Sarah. No. You should just go home. This stuff could get dangerous" Sam tries to warn her. "...and I don't want you to get hurt" He admits lowly, a awkward smile on his face.

Me and Dean share an amused look when he says this, small smirks on our faces. "Look, you guys are probably crazy, but I'd you're right about this. Well, me and my dad sold that painting. We might've gotten these people killed" She says. "I'm not saying I'm not scared because I am scared as hell, but I'm not gonna run and hide either" She admits determined, walking over to the door.

"So are we going or what?" Sarah asks us, walking out the door. Me and Dean smirk at her clap back to Sam. I smile a little at her fearlessness, admitting she's scared but willing to do whatever it takes to make sure other people don't get hurt. It's admirable. "Sam" Dean calls out to Sam. He turns to us.

"Marry that girl" He says firmly, pointing at the door, an amused look on his face. I chuckle, "If you don't, I will" I add jokingly, punching Sam lightly on his shoulder, making Dean laugh. He scoffs, rolling his eyes at our untimely humor.

________________________________

Now back at Evelyn's house, Sam begins picking the lock. "Uh, isn't this a crime scene?" Sarah asks us fearfully. "Well, you already lied to the cops. What's another infraction?" I say, giving her a smile. She smiles back mc shaking her head as Dean flicks his knife open and glides it along the door, cutting the police tape.

When we get into the house, Sam dismounts the painting from the fireplaces placing it on the couch infront of us to get a proper look at it as I compare the differences using the picture from the library. "Aren't you worried that it's gonna, you know, kill us?" Sarah asks us cautiously. "No, it seems to do it's thing at night. I think we're all right in the daylight" Sam tells her.

I notice that the razor in the picture is closed but in the portrait it's opened. I point to it to show Dean, "Fellas, check it out. The razor, it's, uh, it's closed but it's open in that one" I tell them, handing Dean the picture. Dean shows Sam, "What are you guys talking about?" Sarah asks us.

"Well if the spirit's changing aspects of the painting, maybe it's doing so for a reason" Dean explains. "Hey, hey. Look at this. The painting in the painting" Sam points out, holding up the picture to the painting. The painting in the picture from the library was a simple landscape but the portrait was different.

"It's like a crypt or a mausoleum or something" Dean says. I squint and take a closer look. "There's something written on the crypt" I say, taking up an ashtray from the table and using the bottom of it to magnify the painting of the painting in the portrait. "Merchant" I read aloud that's written on the crypt, looking up at the boys.

________________________________

Later that evening, we tried every cemetery in town looking for that crypt. "This is the third boneyard we've checked" Dean says annoyed. "Yeah. I think this ghost is jerking us around" I scoff as Dean nods in agreement. "So, this is what you guys do for a living?" I hear Sarah ask Sam.

"Not exactly. We don't get paid" He responds jokingly. "Well, mazel tov" She says back. As we walk through, I see a crypt like the one from the painting. "Over there" Dean notices it, we all walk towards the old crypt, 'Merchant' written on the top in capital letters. I hand Dean the bolt cutters and he gets to work.

He cuts the bolts and kicks the gate in, dust rattling off the gate. We all cough as we walk in, headstones on the wall with names from the Merchant family. "Okay, that right there is the creepiest thing I've seen" Sarah says, pointing to the doll and stuffed animal that's in a glass case in the wall. "It was, uh, sort of a tradition at the time" I point out to her.

"Yeah, whenever a child dies, sometimes they preserve the kids' favorite toy in a glass case. Put it next to the headstone or crypt" He further explains. I notice there's only four urns when there should be five. "You guys notice anything strange here?" I ask them. "Uhh, where do I start" Sarah says sarcastically, making Sam smile.

"I don't think that's what she means. Look at the urns" Dean says, realizing where I'm coming from. "Yeah, there are only four" Realization dawns on Sam, his smile dropping. "Yeah, mom and the three kids" I say nodding. "Daddy dearest isn't here" Dean adds. "So where is he?" Sam asks.

________________________________

"So what exactly is your boyfriend doing in there?" Sarah asks me as we wait outside of the police station for Dean to get back. "Searching county deaths certificates. To learn what happened to Isaiah's body" I tell her as I take a drag from my cigarette. "Dean's not my boyfriend by the way" I inform her. "Really?" She asks surprised. "Mhhhmm" I respond, blowing the smoke out the corner of my lip.

"Could've sworn he was by the way he looks at you" Sarah says still surprised. My heart skips a beat at this but I chuckle, shaking my head, "Ha, please. It was probably the food he was shoveling down his mouth" I joke. Sam rolls his eyes at my comment. "Yeah, right. 'The food' " He snorts air quoting, I flip him the bird glaring at him as he smirks.

Sarah laughs at this. "How'd he even get in the door?" She asks curiously, me and Sam share a amused look. "Lying and subterfuge, mostly" Sam jokes. He looks at her studying her face. "You have, a, um..." He says, pointing to his face. "You have an eyelash on your...." Her face drops as he tries to wipe her face. "Uh, no, your right- You know what?" He says awkwardly.

They both laugh, a genuine smile on Sams face. "Do you mind if I-?" He asks her gently. I chuckle and shake my head at their awkwardness. "No" She smiles as Sam takes the eyelash off her face. "Okay. Okay I got it" He says, smiling and laughing. He puts his finger infront of her lips and says, "Make a wish" She laughs, looking deeply into Sam's eyes before blowing the eyelash off his finger.

I smirk proudly at their cute interaction, my little Sammy is moving on slowly but surely. Their body language tells me that Sarah wants to talk to him privately. I clear my throat awkwardly, breaking their heated eye-contact, their gazes snapping to me. "I'm gonna, go wait in the car" I say, flicking my cigarette in the trash. I smile at Sarah, flashing her a wink and she gives me a grateful smile.

I jump in the drivers seat of the Impala, opening the glove compartment to look through Deans cassette tapes to play some tunes. "Jesus Dean, I love classic rock too but this is just the greatest hits of the mullet rock" I mutter to myself as I rummage through the tapes. My heart stops when I pull out a personalized cassette tape from the box with a crown doodled in on top, labeled, 'Princess' Hits".

I place the rest of the tapes back inside of the glove compartment and push the tape into the deck cassette player. I thought my cheeks were gonna burst from smiling when 'Livin On A Prayer' by Bon Jovi started to play on his tape.

'Once upon a time

Not so long ago'

'Tommy used to work on the docks'

'Unions been on strike'

'He's down on his luck... it's tough, so tough'

'Gina works the diner all day'

'Working for her man, she brings home her pay'

'For love - for love'

He hates Bon Jovi, sure there are some choice songs he doesn't mind from the band but I always loved Bon Jovi, which he constantly nagged me about. Always said I have 'Questionable taste in music'. Fuck, he made a tape with some of my favorite songs. Jesus, I think I'm gonna cry. I chuckle as I start singing along to the song,

'She says we've got to hold on to what we've got'

'Cause it doesn't make a difference'

'If we make it or not'

'We've got each other and that's a lot'

'For love - well give it a shot'

________________________________

Third Person POV

When Y/N walks off and makes her way to the Impala, Sarah turns back to Sam. "I like her. She's sweet" She chuckles as Sam nods smiling, "Yeah, Y/N's like my sister. She's a character by herself" He compliments in a good way, chuckling and shaking his head. Sarah sighs, "Sam, can I ask you something?" She asks him.

"Yeah, sure" Sam says. "I don't mean to be forward, but a girl could wait here forever" She says laughing. Sam looks down shyly, "Is there something here between us? Or am I delusional?" Sarah asks Sam. "You're not delusional" He assures her. "But there's a 'but' coming" She points out knowingly. "But...I don't think this would be a good idea" He says.

Sarah heart pangs, "Can I ask why?" She questions. "Because I like you" Sam sighs. Her face contorts in confusion at this. "Wait, you lost me" She says smiling. Sam chuckles, looking down, "Look, it's hard to explain. I-. It's just that when people are around me. I don't know, they get hurt" Sam says honestly.

"What do you mean?" She asks. "I mean, like, physically hurt. With what my brother, y/n and I do, it's....." He trails off, looking down before sighing, his mind flashing to Jessica. "Sarah...I had a girlfriend" He admits, his voice low. Sarah nods encouragingly, "But she died. And my mom died too. And y/n's mom" He opens up.

Sarah has sympathy in her eyes as Sam explains, "I don't know, it's like....It's like I'm cursed or something. Like death just follows me around" He sighs as Sarah listens, "Look, I'm not scared of much. But if I let myself have feelings for anybody-" He begins but Sarah cuts him off.

"You're scared they get hurt too" She finishes. Sam nods, "That's very sweet. And very archaic" She adds, Sams head snapping in her direction. "I'm sorry?" He asks confused. "Look, I'm a big girl, Sam. It's not your job to make decisions for me. There's always a chance of getting hurt" She says firmly.

"I'm not talking about a broken heart and a gun of Hagen Dazs. I'm talking life or death" Sam defends. "And tomorrow I can get hit by a bus. That's what life is" She counters. Sarah sighs, "Look, I know losing somebody you love, it's terrible. You shut yourself off. Believe me, I know." She says comfortingly.

"But when you shut out pain, you shut out everything else too" She adds. "Sarah, you don't understand, the pain that I went through..." Sam says scoffing, "I can't go through it again. I can't" He finishes, tears welling up in both of their eyes.

"Am I interrupting something?" Dean pops in. They didn't notice Dean walking out of the station in the midst of their deep conversation. "No" "Not at all" Sam and Sarah say in unison, trying to cover up their expressions. "Huh. Apparently." He says ironically, knowing they're full of crap.

"Where's Y/N?" He asks them, looking around for her. "She went to wait in the car." Sarah tells him, pointing to the Impala across the street where Y/N is currently listening to the cassette Dean made with her favorite songs. "So, what'd you get?" Sam asks him. "Pay dirt." Dean begins, holding up a paper with the information of Isaiah Merchants disposal.

"Apparently the surviving relatives of the Merchant Family were so ashamed of Isaiah that they didn't want him interred with the rest family. So they handed him over to the county. Counry gave him a paupers funeral. Economy style. Turns out he wasn't cremated. He was buried in a pine box" Dean explains smirking.

"So there are bones to burn" Sam says. "There are bones to burn" Dean repeats in confirmation. "Tell me you know where" Sam says, Dean smiles cheekily as he looks between them.

They all walk over to the Impala to see Y/N banging her head along to the beat of 'Dream On' by Aerosmith. Dean knocks on the window making her jump. She huffs, holding her hand over her chest and turns off the music. "Don't do that dude!" She exclaims rolling down the window as Dean laughs, jumping into the passenger seat while Sam and Sarah jump in the back.

________________________________

It's now nightfall. They explained everything to Y/N who was relieved at the fact. Sam, Dean and Y/N are digging up Isaiah Merchant grave as Sarah holds a flashlight down the hole for them to see. The trio grunting as they shovel out the dirt. Sam pants as he pushes himself out of the hall, back onto the ground next to Sarah.

"You guys seems to be uncomfortably comfortable with this" Sarah says as Sam lets out a breath. "Well, this isn't exactly the first grave we've dug" He admits as Sarah shakes her head. "Still think I'm a catch?" He asks her ironically. Y/N knocks her shovel into the dirt when she hits something hard, "I think I got something, fellas" She calls out to them.

"On three" Dean says panting, she nods. Both counting to three before striking their shovels into the pine box, breaking it open to reveal the skeleton of Isaiah Merchant. They push themselves up back above ground. Dean then grabs the salt, matches and accelerant from his duffel bag, handing Y/N the matches and Sam the accelerant.

He salts the corpse as Sam douses it in fluid. Sarah looks on in horror as they do this. "You been a real pain in the ass, Isaiah" Y/N says, sticking the match. "Good riddance" Dean adds. Y/N snorts as she throws the lit match onto the corpse, igniting it into flames. The four watch as the corpse burns in the dark cemetery.

________________________________

"Keep the motor running" Sam tells Dean as they pull up to Evelyn's house. "I thought the painting was harmless now" Sarah says when Sam moves to get out of the car. He turns to her in the backseat, "Better safe than sorry. We're gonna bury the sucker" He tells her, "I'm wanna come with you" She says, moving to get out with Sam. "You sure?" He asks her. "Yeah" She nods, jumping out and walking up the porch.

Dean and Y/N share a look, "Hey, hey, hey" Y/N calls out to Sam. "We'll stay here. You go make your move" She whispers to him. Sam scoffs, rolling his eyes and getting out of the car. "Sam. We're serious" Dean mutters but Sam ignores him. They chuckle as Dean puts on the music from the cassette tape that Y/N found, 'Dream On' by Aerosmith blurring from the deck.

Sam, who's up on the porch, turns with an annoyed expression in his face towards his brother. He opens his arms in a, 'What the hell man?!' motion. He makes a signal for Dean to cut the song off. Dean rolls his eyes, taking the tape out. He felt caught red handed when he realized that the tape Y/N was banging her head along to earlier was the one he made of her favorite songs.

"You found the tape" Dean turns to Y/N, a tinge of pink on his cheeks. Her heart skips a beat when he says this, a guilty look on her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop. I just wanted Sam and Sarah to have a moment alone and I-" She goes to explain but he laughs, cutting her off.

"Relax princess. I meant to show it to you. I thought maybe you'd think it was cheesy." He admits, looking down sheepishly at the tape in his hand. "It's a sweet gesture" She smiles, taking it from his hand and sliding the tape back into the deck. All of this really making Y/N wonder if Dean did reciprocate the feelings she had for him. Was it really possible? She couldn't fathom the fact of him feeling that way about her.

Meanwhile Dean was embarrassed that Y/N found his tape he made. Scared she'd think it was weird, not realizing that it actually touched her heart. No one has really done something so thoughtful for her, even though he didn't show it to her directly yet, he still had the intent but was too afraid of what she might think. Y/N suddenly begins to feel the familiar chills at the back of her neck.

"Oh no" She gasps, holding her neck. "What? What's wrong?" Dean turns to her concerned, resting a hand on her shoulder. Their gazes snap to the house when the front door was slammed shut in a loud manner, both sharing a panicked look before practically running out of the car and up the porch. They both try to knock the door down.

"Dean! Y/N! Hey, is that you?!" They hear Sam yell. "Sammy, you alright?!" Dean yells concerned through the door. Y/N's phone rings, she fishes it out of her pocket and answers it, putting it on speaker. "Tell us you slammed the front door" Y/N says fearfully into the phone. "It wasn't me. I think it was the little girl" Sam tells them, looking around inside in panic.

"Girl? What girl?" Dean asks confused. "Yeah, she's out of the painting. I think it might've been her all along" Sam tells them. "Wasn't the dad looking down at her?" Dean asks him as Y/N kneels down, beginning to pick the lock. "Maybe he was trying to warn us." Y/N suggests, jiggling the lock pick in the doorknob. "Hey hey hey, let's recap later, alright? J-just get us out of here" Sam says panicked.

"Well, I'm trying to pick the lock. The door won't budge" Y/N tells Dean fearfully. "The break it down!" Sam tells him. "Okay, genius. Let me grab my battering ram!" Dean retorts. "Guys, the damn thing is coming!" Sam yells. "Well, then you're gonna have to hold it off until we figure something out" Dean tells him. "Get some salt or iron" Y/N instructs him.

Back inside the house, Sam grabs Sarah, "Come on". They begin to search the house in a hurry, "What kind of house doesn't have salt? Low-sodium freaks!" Sam mutters, huffing in irritation. "Hey, you guys find any iron?" He asks Sarah who's rummaging through drawers. "No, what's it for?" She asks him fearfully. "Iron repels evil. But it's got to be pure. Hurry!" He explains, urging her to find something.

"Uh, guys. Give me a sec. Don't go anywhere" Sam says to Dean and Y/N over the phone who are still outside, trying to break any door or window down with no success. Sam rests the phone down and begins to rummage through drawers. "Look in the chair. Sometimes the seats" He instructs Sarah who does so. They hear a loud crash outside, both gasp in shock when the door begin slamming shut in their own.

The room begins to get windy, papers from the desk flying all about. Sarah's face drops when she notices a little girl in a white puffy dress, dragging a doll like the one in the crypt in one hand, a razor in the other. "Sam..." She says fearfully. Sam shields Sarah as the little girl walks closer and closer to them, the wind escalating.

"That is just so wrong" Sarah says, her voice cracking with fear when the little girl disapparates and apparates closer to them. They back into a fireplace, not noticing the hot iron poker sticks behind them. Sams foot knocks against it. When he realizes it's a poker stick, he quickly picks it up and goes charging to the ghost of the little girl who's roaring at them.

The second the iron hits her, she disapparates. Panting in relief, "Iron?" Sarah asks him, nodding towards the poker. "Yeah" He breaths out. Meanwhile, Dean and Y/N who are still unsuccessful at getting in. Y/N snatches the phone from Deans hand, "Sammy, you okay?" She asks Sam shakily, the call still running.

"Yeah, for now" Sam tells her, she and Dean sigh in relief. "How are we gonna waste her?" Dean asks. "I don't know, she was already cremated. There's nothing left to burn" Sam points out. "Then how's she still around?" Y/N asks frustrated. "There must be something else" Sam sighs. A thought runs across Sarah's mind.

"Sam, wait. We used to handle antique dolls at the auction" She tells Sam. "Well that's fascinating, Sarah, but important right now?" He mutters back sarcastically. She rolls her eyes, "Well, back then, they used to make the dolls in the kids image. I mean, everything. Like they use the kids real hair" She explains to him. Sams eyes goes wide.

"Guys, Sarah says the doll might have the girl's hair" Sam tells Dean and Y/N over the phone. "Human remains. Same as bones" He adds, Dean and Y/N share a look. "The mausoleum" The three hunters say in unison. Dean and Y/N jump in the Impala, racing to the mausoleum. Dean wastes no time in ramming Baby's headlights through the gate into the cemetery.

Meanwhile Sam yields the poker in hand, only to be knocked down by a wooden desk that comes charging from one side of the room. He grunts in pain when it does this, Sarah bolting into action. Shaking with fear, she kneels to Sam's side, "Sam! Come on, push! Come on!" She tries to pull the heavy desktop that's crushing him off, not seeing the little girl behind him.

Dean and Y/N pull up to the mausoleum, rushing out of the Impala they pry the doors open to the crypt. They trying banging on the glass case with their fists but it's no use. And idea flashes in Deans mind. "Guns!" He says, pulling out his pistol. Y/N does the same, using the butts on their weapons to knock the glass in but it doesn't work.

Huffing in frustration, Y/N looks down at her gun. Feeling idiotic that they didn't think of just shooting it, "Come on, Dean" She says exasperated, shaking her head. They shield their faces, both shooting a bullet into the glass case. Smiling in victory, they now use the butts of their guns to finish breaking the glass.

Back at the house, Sarah's is thrown across the room by the spirit, both her and Sam groaning in pain. The little girl moving eerily closer to her with the razor in hand as Sarah backs into a corner, terrified. Sam tries to move but a force is keeping him held down, he grunts in pain from the pressure of the force.

Dean is holding up the doll in the crypt as Y/N tries to flick her lighter on nervously. "Come on! Come on!" Dean bellows frustrated. Y/N finally gets the lighter lit, she begins to burn the doll from its hair, the whole doll lighting aflame. Dean tosses it aside the burning doll.

The spirit inches towards Sarah, ready to slash her throat. Sam finally breaks out of its hold, throwing himself onto Sarah to shield her. Before the little girl could slash either of them, she bursts into flames, disapparating into a ball of fire, reappearing back into the painting mounted on the fireplace. They both smile satisfied that Dean and Y/N were successful.

After the two hunters burn the doll, still in the crypt, Y/N pulls out her phone and quickly dials Sams number. Sam answers his phone back at the house, "Sam, you good?" Dean asks him through the speaker. Sam looks at Sarah who's heaving for breath, "Not bad" He responds, sighing he hangs up the phone.

________________________________

The next day, they're all back at the auction house. Looking on as two men put the painting into a box. "This was archived in the county records" Dean says, holding up a paper he and Y/N got from the county department. "The Merchants adopted daughter, Melanie" Dean states, reading from the paper. "You know why she was up for adoption? Because her real family was murdered in their beds" Y/N informs them.

Sam scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "She killed them?" Sarah asked stunned. "Yeah. Who's suspect her? Sweet little girl" Dean points out. "So then she kills Isaiah and his family. The old man takes the blame. His spirits been trying to warn people every since" Dean pieces the story together for them. "Where's this one go?" One of the men asks Sarah.

"Take it out back and burn it" She tells them plainly. The three hunters look her her surprised, a bit impressed. The men look at her confused, "I'm serious guys. Thanks" She adds, they both shrug, both lifted the painting in the box out of the room. "So why'd the girl do it?" She asks the hunters. "Killing others? Killing herself? Some people are just born tortured, so when they die, their spirits are just as dark" Sam explains.

"Maybe, I don't really care. It's over. We move on" Dean shrugs, Y/N shakes her head at this. "I guess this means you're leaving" Sarah turns to Sam who sighs nodding. He gives his brother and best friend a look that says, 'Beat it'. They both nod, smug smiles on their faces, "We'll go wait in the car." Dean says awkwardly, smiling sheepishly at Sarah. "See you, Sarah" Y/N says sweetly to her.

Sarah returns the smile, reaching over to hug her. Y/N returns the hug, "You stay stunning, Y/N" Sarah tells Y/N sincerely who's smile widens. "Stay gorgeous" She compliments back, giving her a wink. Dean and Y/N walk over to the car, "We're the ones who burnt the doll, destroyed the spirit. Don't thank us or anything" Dean mutters childishly. Y/N nudges him, chuckling. "Don't be a sourpuss, Winchester" She laughs.

As they walk out to the car, "You think he'll do it?" Dean asks Y/N. "What?" She responds cocking her eyebrow in confusion. "Make his move" He states. Y/N snorts, "As much as I'd like to think I know your brother well enough, sometimes he's a wild card" She chuckles, shaking her head as they lean back on the Impala.

Meanwhile, "There are a million things that I want to say to you but for the life of me, I can't think of one" Sarah blurts honestly, causing Sam to chuckle shyly. "Yeah, I'll miss you too" He responds sincerely. "You know, there's a lesson in all of this" Sarah points out. "What's that?" Sam asks curiously. "We all got through this in one piece" She shrugs smiling, he chuckles shaking his head.

"I didn't get hurt" She adds. Sam smiles nodding, "Yeah, I'm glad for that" He says genuinely. "So, maybe you're not cursed....Maybe...." Sarah says suggestively? Her smile dropping when she notices Sam's pitiful expression. Every fiber in Sam wants to be with Sarah, genuinely getting to like her.

But the logical part knows it can never happen with his line of work. He believes can't give her what she deserves. "Maybe you'll come back and see me" She sighs. He nods, "I will" He says genuinely, his tone soft.

Sam exits the auction house, looking a bit troubled. "Guess he didn't" Dean grumbles disappointed, they turn to jump in the Impala. They look back to see Sam hesitantly knocking on the door. Sarah opens the door, a smile on her face, Sam grabs her gently by the neck of her head, locking his lips with hers in a passionate kiss.

Grins spread across their faces as this happens, "That's our boy" Dean says proudly, looking over at Y/N, his mind swirling with remnants of the night they almost kissed recently. "Told you. Wild card" Y/N says, smiling proudly. She locks eyes with Dean, a slight blush rising to her face. Clearing their throats, they jump into the Impala.

________________________________

Authors Note: Happy Birthday Sam Winchester! I hurried up and finished this chapter in love of Sammy’s 41st birthday. RIP Sam Winchester, you would’ve loved Misha’s recent comment on Destiel XD. I absolutely LOVED writing this episode. Sarah has a place in my heart, I truly believe she and Sam would've been happy. Reminder that this chapter is unedited. Hope everyone enjoyed!🫶

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#dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #sam and dean #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #supernatural reader insert #supernatural fandom #supernatural tv show #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural series rewrite

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wildwestdean · 3 months

Text

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch.

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-”

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation.

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you.

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together.

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients.

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back.

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t.

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension.

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands?

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body?

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you.

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around.

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself.

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode.

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!”

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room.

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?”

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind.

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare.

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on.

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.”

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat.

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now.

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling.

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily.

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time.

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground.

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?”

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be.

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him.

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!”

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation.

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return.

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean.

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again.

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face.

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.”

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room.

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes.

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression.

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you.

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug.

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!”

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.”

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.”

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.”

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish.

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen.

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?”

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!”

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!”

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.”

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!”

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen.

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table.

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.”

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort.

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze.

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head.

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite.

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food.

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere.

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin.

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?”

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?”

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t.

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly.

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier.

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.”

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving.

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle.

“You alright?” you asked tentatively.

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one.

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.”

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better.

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation.

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.”

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word.

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table.

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration.

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.”

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return.

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.”

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation.

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.”

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.”

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk.

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously.

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.”

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you.

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively.

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.”

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.”

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically.

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.”

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.”

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly.

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.”

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off.

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.”

“Promise?” you asked meekly.

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further.

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears.

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly.

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on.

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously.

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question.

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this.

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter.

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you.

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake.

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day.

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there.

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam.

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything.

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore.

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out.

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either.

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs.

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat.

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.”

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion.

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?”

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?”

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave.

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you.

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards.

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?”

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.”

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.”

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words.

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward.

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response.

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.”

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.”

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name.

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.”

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you?

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.”

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps.

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker.

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently.

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly.

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated.

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.”

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation.

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?”

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her.

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation.

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly.

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?”

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around.

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!”

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room.

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief.

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar.

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying.

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-”

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room.

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by.

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car.

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him.

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door.

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time.

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?”

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward.

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly.

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.”

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.”

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you.

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him.

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet.

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work.

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.”

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him.

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-”

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more.

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.”

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat.

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.”

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked.

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly.

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?”

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?”

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.”

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess.

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?”

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?”

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down.

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him.

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?”

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more.

“You said-”

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin.

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low.

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks.

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips.

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.”

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

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supernaturalistthings · 2 months

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.

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.

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural headcanon #supernatural imagine #dean winchester headcannons #dean winchester moodboard #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester one shot #dean #dean winchester smut #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester x female!reader

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apocalypseornaw · 29 days

Text

What's Mine

Dean Winchester x Reader

You and Dean have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks until you run into your ex on a hunt and Dean makes it a point to let it be known he isn't giving up what's his..you

The breath was knocked out of you when your back hit the dirt, Dean's body on top of yours was a familiar weight and he'd somehow supported your head to keep your neck from slamming at a weird angle when the two of you landed.

“You ok?” He asked breathlessly and you managed a smile “Had worse” you felt the heat of the flame from the open grave hit your side and knew Sam had torched the bones. Good thing too that damn ghost had tossed you and Dean both like a frigging ragdoll.

“You two good?” Sam called out and Dean who was still currently on top of you smirked “Been in a lot worse positions” you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the chest “Shut up and get off me Winchester” he got to his feet and helped you to yours before grabbing his chest playfully “Oh come on sweetheart. You're killing me here. You know you want me”

You felt your face warm at his teasing. Did you want him? Hell yes, who wouldn't? Did you have no clue where he stood due to months of flirting, light touches and getting so comfortable with each other you regularly ended up in each other's beds if one of you had a bad night.

“Oh yes. Let me ravage you in the middle of this graveyard covered in dirt and ectoplasm” you shot back and he grinned “Oh I'd take ya anyway I could have ya” you rolled your eyes and walked over to the grave where Sam was already filling in the hole and picked up a shovel. Dean joined the two of you and in no time the grave was back covered.

You looked from Sam to Dean “I need a shower” you announced only to be met with Sam saying he needed food and Dean saying he needed a drink. You laughed “There's a bar not far from our hotel. Sign boasted the best wings as voted by some traveling foodie. Let's hit the showers then we can grab some food and a few drinks before we hit the hay”

Dean grinned “That's my girl” and Sam shook his head “You two need to get a room” Sam was sick of the little dance you and Dean were stuck in as much as you were but you refused to make the first move. You knew how Dean was when it came to commitment.

You'd known both brothers for years and had started hunting with them full time after Bobby died then moved into the bunker full time after your last breakup.Sam was your best friend. You loved them both and refused to let your feelings for Dean come between that. He'd eventually make his feelings known, wouldn't he?

You walked in the bar between Sam and Dean, feeling Dean's hand at your lower back. It was a habit he'd long since started doing. Whether it was when the three of you were on a hunt, you went to the grocery store with him or something as simple as walking in a bar. When you'd asked him about it hoping he'd use the opportunity to admit anything he'd instead told you that he just liked to keep a hand on you. Something about in public places it keeping any pervs from thinking about looking your way.

You tried to ignore the instinct to lean into his touch. Was it possible he didn't want you like you wanted him? Maybe he really did just see you as a good friend and you were reading too much into things.

—--------------

Dean felt your back tense under his hand as Sam cleared the way to a booth on the back wall. “You good sweetheart?” He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music. You nodded but didn't give a verbal response. He was sure he'd blocked your head from taking a blow but maybe your back or ribs had taken a hit you hadn't admitted to?

He'd make a point to ask you before all of you settled down for the night back at the hotel.

He watched as you sat down on one of the benches then looked between him and Sam “Who's going to the bar?” He raised his hand slightly “you want your usual?” You nodded “Yes please” when you gave him a small smile he felt one slip onto his face in return but didn't miss Sam rolling his eyes. His little brother had been on his ass for weeks. The last threat had been “If you don't make a move I'm gonna start hitting on her for you. It's pathetic man”

—-------------

After Sam had eaten an extraordinary amount of wings for his usual appetite and you and Dean had split an order of mozzarella sticks you had gotten up to go to the bathroom. Normally one or both of them would walk you and wait outside the door but this once you'd convinced them to let you go alone.

When you got back out of the bathroom you saw that both of them had gone to the bar so you headed that way. You were almost to them when you heard a voice call your name you froze dead in your tracks, you'd recognize that voice anywhere. Your ex boyfriend Dominic.

The same ex boyfriend who'd broken up with you because “Ain't no way you're not sleeping with one of the Winchesters. They've never made a habit of working with any other hunter with the exception of Bobby yet you're always welcome to join them”

You turned to see him walking towards you. He was a fairly good looking guy. He was about six foot, dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. You'd been hurt when he accused you but now there was a whole different level to that hurt considering it seemed the Winchester that you did now have feelings for would never want you.

“Hey Dom” you greeted with a smile. “How ya been?” He asked and you shrugged “You know the life, still breathing so I'd call it a win”

—------------

Sam knew you should be out of the bathroom by now. He had hoped Dean would use the night out to admit his feelings. He turned to look around for you and spotted you talking to someone, no not someone your ex. That was Dominic. This should be interesting.

He glanced at Dean, trying to consider if he wanted to do this or not but then he saw your shoulders tense and knew you well enough to know when you needed a rescue. “Isn't that Dom?” He asked if off handedly but Dean spun around fast enough a few people looked their way. “Yeah it is”

The muscle in Dean's jaw was clenched hard watching you talk to your ex and Sam knew it was now or never. “She doesn't look too comfortable. Maybe one of us should go over there?” He stood like he was going to but Dean grabbed his shoulder “Let me”

—-----------------

What had started off as friendly enough turned not so friendly the moment Dom noticed Sam and Dean at the bar “Which one is it?” “Which one is what?” You asked because you honestly had no idea what he meant. “Which Winchester are you fucking?”

Before you could open your mouth to respond you felt a strong set of arms slip around your waist and heard Dean's voice say “That would be me. Why? You got a problem with it?” You cut your eyes up at him so he used that moment to bring one hand up to cup your chin and when his lips met yours the entire bar could've caught fire for all you cared.

You'd thought of kissing Dean so many times, dreamt of it but good lord the real thing couldn't be described. He rolled his tongue against yours, exploring your mouth and letting you taste the bourbon he'd drank. His hand moved to the back of your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You felt heat roll through your stomach as he pulled away from you leaving another light kiss on your lips before turning his eyes back to Dom.

“What was the issue of who she's with? Didn't you break up with her?” You could hear the venom in Dean's voice and felt his arms tighten around you protectively. This was new.

Dom shrugged “Yeah I broke up with her because I figured either you or your brother was fucking her” his eyes slid down to you then back up to Dean before he added “Or both of ya”

You felt Dean tense and knew you needed to diffuse the situation. Dom was strong, yeah but Dean was on an entire different level. He could easily kill him and not break a sweat. You gripped Dean's arms to stop him from moving “Baby,let's get Sammy and leave” you hoped you using a pet name for him that you normally wouldn't might get through his head.

He nodded “Yeah. Let's get back to the hotel” he slipped his arms from around you and grabbed your hand instead, lacing his fingers with yours. You took a few steps away and thought that was it, that Dom would use what brain cells he had and let it go. Instead he said “Does she still make that little sound right before she…”

He didn't get a chance to finish the sentence. Dean had dropped your hand and landed a solid punch before you could blink. Fuck. “SAM!” You shouted over the quickly growing crowd.

You didn't want to get close enough to get caught in the crosshair. Dean would be careful of you but add in enough drunks and adrenaline and accidents happen. “I got him” You heard Sam's voice before you saw him grab Dean's shoulder, ducking the thrown punch “C'mon he ain't worth it”

Dean looked up and met your gaze. You saw him take a deep breath then nod. “Yeah let's go” he reached for your hand and you gave it to him. Sam handed the nearest waitress a few twenties but by that time some drunks had helped Dom to his feet. He was holding his broken nose “So i was right. She's been fucking you”

You squeezed Dean's hand, silently begging him to not be baited. He pulled you into his side then turned to face Dom. “If I would've had her in my bed back then she would've kicked you to the curb long before you split and for the record she doesn't make any small noise with me” you felt your face warm when a chorus of “Ooohhs” went through the bar.

You spotted the bouncer headed in your direction and Dean must have too because he waved towards the door “I'm leaving. I'm leaving. This asshole needed to learn some manners”

The short ride to the motel had been in silence. You followed Sam into the room and headed for the door adjoining your room to theirs.

—-------------

You felt Dean grab your hand before you made it to the door “Can we talk?” You cut your eyes at Sam then nodded “Yeah. Come on” you walked into your room and waited until you heard Dean close the door to turn and face him.

“I'm sorry you were put in that position to have to defend me” You blurted out and he looked stunned for a minute then shook his head “I'm not. That guy's a fucking asshole. He never deserved you” you smiled slightly “Helluva punch and helluva kiss”

He smirked “I meant it” “The punch?” You asked and he rolled his eyes “The kiss you brat” you grinned “Oh really? What about the she doesn't make any small sound with me part?”

He pushed off the door, walking towards you with almost a predatory look. The same thing that made demons run the opposite direction had the ability to make your knees weak in the best way. “That sounds like you're doubting my abilities sweetheart?” You shrugged nonchalantly despite your heart pounding in your throat “Not like you've made a move to show me your abilities”

—--------------

He stopped just shy of touching you “Let me make myself clear if we do this that's it. You're mine, I'm yours. I don't want one night or just sex. I want all of you” “Good” you replied and that was all it took. He closed the space between you and if you thought the kiss in the bar was something it had nothing compared to the way his lips crashed against yours in a bruising, hungry kiss.

He backed you up to the bed and the moment the back of your legs hit it he eased you back on it, never breaking the kiss even as he hovered over you. Once the need for air forced you apart his lips moved across your jaw then down your neck “I've wanted you for so long” he spoke against your skin and you practically melted on the spot. “I'm yours Dean. I've been yours” you whispered and he groaned “Gonna be the death of me”

His hands gripped your shirt and before you could protest he ripped it right down the middle bearing your covered breasts to him. He bit down on one of them and when you moaned and arched your back he slipped his hands under you to relieve you of the bra as well, throwing it across the room. He looked down at you and the look in his eyes made your heart flip “You're so damn beautiful” he murmured before crashing his lips against yours again.

Your hands found his shirt so he broke the kiss long enough to slip it off and throw it, giving you access to his skin. Your hands smoothed over his chest, tracing the tattoo and small scars littered around it that even angelic healing didn't get rid of.

“I need more of you, please” he begged and you fucking whimpered hearing Dean Winchester sound that wrecked. “You have all of me Dean” you whispered and he left another searing kiss against your lips before moving down your body.

He slipped your boots off along with your jeans then panties leaving you bare to him before settling between your legs. He didn't give you time to adjust before his mouth found your core. The first lick was tentative, testing but when your hips bucked up into him he damn near growled before pinning your lower body down with one arm and diving in like a man starved.

—--------------

You were quivering under Dean. He'd already worked one orgasm out of you with his tongue alone and now had added two fingers into you as well. You were so close to that edge again and damn him he knew just what you needed. He turned his wrist to find that spot deep inside of you, running his fingertips over it as he sucked your clit into his mouth and you came again with a scream of his name on your lips.

Once you came down from that high you shoved weakly at his head “Please Dean, too much” he left one final kiss against your clit before leaning back to grin up at you “Worth the wait?” You nodded weakly “Please take your pants off and get up here”

He stood and slipped his boots, jeans and boxers off before crawling up your body, kissing and licking every inch of skin he could on the way up. When he crashed his lips against yours you could taste yourself on him and felt yourself clench especially when he moved to your neck to work your pulse point with his tongue and teeth.

“Dean, I will return the favor next time but please get inside me” He grinned against your skin “Yes ma'am” you felt the head of his cock teasing at your entrance and rolled your hips up towards him. He slid in slowly, a low moan leaving you both at the feeling of him stretching you.

Once you adjusted to his size you tapped his shoulder “You can move” he gave a thrust and when your hands went to his shoulders, nails digging in, he groaned “That's my girl” before setting a punishing pace.

—------------

You were folded damn near in half, your legs on Dean's shoulders as he pounded into you. You felt tears forming in the corner of your eyes from being pushed to that delicious line between pleasure and pain.

Your legs were shaking, your whole body felt like it was made of liquid. You'd never had this many orgasms fucked out of you and it seemed like he was aiming for one more before he let himself come. “Dean please. I can't take any more” you begged and he kissed your cheek “One more baby. Please. You've got one more for me”

His fingers slipped between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit and you felt that pressure burst again,your vision going soft from the pleasure coursing through you. His thrusts started getting uneven and you knew he was close. “Fuck Dean. You feel so damn amazing. Please come for me, fill me up” you sobbed, fucked senseless.

He groaned,burying his face in your neck as he gave one final hard thrust and you felt when he came deep inside of you.

—----------------

He slowly eased your legs down but stayed inside of you as you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. When he pulled out he apologized at the low whine you gave before going to grab a warm rag to clean you both up.

After he was sure you were cleaned up and didn't need anything else he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you over on his chest. “No regrets on wanting me?” He asked and you felt your heart jump at the uncertainty in his voice despite having just fucked you senseless. You leaned up to look up at him “Why? You already sick of me?” You teased and his eyes narrowed “Don't even woman”

You laughed lightly “I'm sure Dean. You're who I want” “Good, because I'd hate to have to kill anyone who tried to take you from me” you shook your head “Not happening Winchester. You're stuck with me” He pulled you back on his chest and left a kiss on your head before saying “I've been stuck in a lot worse positions than having you in my arms”

#dean winchester smut #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #spn fanfiction

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moonlightspencie · 1 year

Text

This Ain’t for the Best

Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.

Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.

First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.

Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.

Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.

That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.

“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.

“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.

We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.

“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.

“Where?” Bobby asked.

“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.

“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.

“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.

They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.

I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”

“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”

“Huh?”

He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”

“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”

“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”

“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”

“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”

Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”

I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.

“If you keep denying all this…”

I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”

“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”

He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you blind?”

I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”

“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”

I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.

“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”

The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.

“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”

Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.

“So, no case, then?” I asked.

Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”

“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”

I looked at him.

“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”

“I am not,” I defended.

Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggested, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”

I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”

“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”

Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”

I took a moment.

“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.

The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victims with missing livers. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.

“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.

I shrugged, looking around the house.

“It seems… clean.”

“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”

“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”

I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.

“Clean. Not even dust.”

He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”

“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”

He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”

I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.

“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.

He smirked, placing a hand on my back.

“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”

We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.

“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”

I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.

“Same place.”

“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”

“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”

He looked up at me with a quirked brow.

“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.

I snorted. “Right. So not you.”

“Leave in ten?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.

We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.

I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.

“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.

He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.

“What?”

“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”

I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.

“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.

“It’s a human?”

He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”

He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.

“Can— How do we do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”

“We could still stab him.”

“But should we?”

He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.

“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”

He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”

“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”

“Then you feel free to shoot him.”

He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.

“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.

My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.

“You’re not cops,” he stated.

Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”

“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”

Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.

“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.

I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.

“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”

Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.

“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.

“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”

I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.

“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”

“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.

“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”

“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.

I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.

“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.

He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”

He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”

I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”

“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”

“You got that right.”

Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.

“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.

“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.

He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.

“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.

He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.

“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.

“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.

“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.

I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”

He smiled. “Go take a shower.”

“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.

“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”

I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.

“Movie tonight?” he asked.

I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.

“Sure.”

“Any requests?”

“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”

“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”

“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”

“Do you want one of mine?”

I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.

“That would be awesome.”

He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.

“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”

“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.

He sighed dramatically. I laughed.

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”

He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.

He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”

“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.

“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”

“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.

We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.

“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.

“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”

I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.

“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”

A pause.

“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”

He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.

“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”

I sighed. “That sucks.”

He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.

“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”

“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.

“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.

He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.

“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.

He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”

I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.

This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.

In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.

“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”

“Mm?”

I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.

“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”

“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”

“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”

“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.

“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.

He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.

“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”

“I know.”

He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dean.”

I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.

At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.

He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.

I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.

I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.

“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.

I smiled. “Morning.”

“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.

I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.

“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.

He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.

“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”

“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”

He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”

“Good point.”

I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.

Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.

“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.

He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.

“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”

Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”

“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.

I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.

“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.

Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”

“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”

I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.

“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”

“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.

“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”

“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”

“I’m okay.”

Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.

“You two actually fell asleep together?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.

��Making moves on her, now?”

Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.

“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”

Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”

He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.

“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”

“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”

“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.

“We talk plenty.”

“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”

Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”

I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”

“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.

The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.

I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.

“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.

“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.

He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.

“Taylor Swift?”

“You know it,” I replied.

He smiled, turning his head back.

“Stars are coming out,” he commented.

“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”

He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.

“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.

“Of course. Why?”

“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”

He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”

“You sound like me, now.”

He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.

“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”

I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.

“Thought you could use some company.”

I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.

“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”

“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”

“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.

“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”

He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.

“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”

“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.

He laughed. “Exactly my point.”

“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”

He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.

“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”

“It makes people feel that way?”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”

“I gathered that much.”

He laughed softly, as did I.

“How’d you know?”

“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”

His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”

“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.

“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”

“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.

“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”

“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”

I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”

“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”

“Well, when did you realize I might?”

He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”

I paused. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”

“You weren’t.”

He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…

“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.

I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.

I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.

“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”

Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.

We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.

“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”

His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.

“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”

“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.

He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

#i haven’t written a spn fic in years this felt good #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #delicate #reputation #taylor swift #gender neutral reader

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 7 months

Text

Showed Me (How I Fell In Love With You)

masterlist

summary: dean helps you up your flirting game, but there’s really only one set of eyes you want on you.

paring: dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.7k

warnings: language, implied sex/nudity, strands of hair falls on reader’s face

author’s note: you probably already know this but sideblogs (like this one) can now answer comments!! super excited about this update and fingers crossed the next one is for sending asks lol 🤞💞

music: showed me (how i fell in love with you) by madison beer — i was listening to this song and kept imagining dean, idk

Dean always had incredible luck with women. He could go into a bar crowded with guys and walk out with the only woman—the bartender who’d been dodging men all night.

You, on the other hand, could go into that same bar and end up going back to the motel alone. It bothered you; what in the hell were you doing wrong?

So, you did the unthinkable—you asked Dean to help you get better at flirting.

That’s how you ended up here at the bar with Dean; he was showing you how to play pool. You had protested the idea of him “teaching you” something you already knew, but he claimed it was important.

“You’re standing wrong,” he told you when you were about to break.

“Uh, no I’m not?”

“If you’re trying to win the game, you’re doing great. If you’re trying to get your opponent to fuck you, you’re failing miserably.”

“Thanks,” you grumbled.

“Hey, you were the one who asked me for help!” He shrugged. “If you want to back out now-”

“No, I don’t want to back out,” you sighed. “I’m fucking desperate at this point.”

“So, are you gonna do what I say, then?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest.

“Yeah,” you mumbled. “How am I supposed to stand?”

He walked up behind you and put his hands on your hips.

“Stick your butt out a little,” he instructed and you did as he asked. “Alright, now when you bend over,” he moved his hands up and forward, resting them on your lower chest, “you’ll want to point your breasts in the direction of the person you want to attract.”

“What if he’s standing behind me?” you asked.

“Then his eyes are gonna be glued to your ass,” he replied, not getting the message. “If he’s standing behind you then focus more on the actual game, and less on where you’re pointing your boobs. Trust me, though, if he’s standing in front of you, he’s gonna be trying to see down your shirt, now…” he walked back around to the other side of the table. “Bend over, and before you hit the ball, make eye contact with him.”

“Okay…” You bent down and lined up your shot before looking up and into Dean’s eyes.

“Perfect! If you look at him kinda like through your eyelashes, there’s exactly one thing that’s suddenly stuck front and center in his mind.”

“And this works on…all guys?” you asked, still looking at him through your lashes.

“If he was standing where I am and didn’t want to fuck you, he’s either related to you or just not into chicks.”

“Good to know,” you mumbled, mostly to yourself. You were about to start the game but a few strands of hair fell on your face.

“Don’t move,” Dean said before he hurried back to where he had been before and tucked the hair behind your ear for you. “Now, since he’s already thinking about that one thing, is that something you want him to think about even more?”

“Um, yeah,” you said quietly.

“Alright, pout your lips,” he instructed. He moved his hand down from your ear and tugged your lip out a bit. “Perfect, that’s gonna draw his attention to your lips.”

“So, now I start actually playing the game?” you asked, not sure if he had any more pointers for you.

“If you want. Or we can go over to the bar where there are three different guys that have been eyeing you the past ten minutes.”

“Really?” you stood up straight, whipping your head around. You saw the guys he was talking about and they all quickly looked down at the drinks in front of them. “Let’s go to the bar, then.”

“So, now that you know all those guys are interested,” Dean said as you both took your seats at the bar, several stools away from the other people already there, “you need to pick one.”

“Isn’t that the easy part?” you laughed a little.

“Oh no, most guys are monsters.” Dean shook his head, motioning the bartender over with his hand. “What’re you drinking?” he asked, looking at you.

“Just a beer’s fine,” you said, a little confused. Usually when you, Sam, and Dean went out drinking you each ordered your own drinks. Dean took initiative and ordered two beers. “And I know before taking someone back to my room I have to do the usual tests; holy water, iron, and silver.”

“Not those kinda monsters, sweetheart,” Dean said. “The guy on the far right has a little motor home keychain attached to his keys. Given the fact there’s a dilapidated RV parked outside that looks like a serial killer’s lair, I’d say he’s a creep.”

“Well, what about the guy in the middle?” you asked.

“I heard him talking with someone on the phone in the bathroom earlier about the fact his ex-girlfriend doesn’t know she got the clap from him.”

“Dear lord,” you groaned, making a disgusted face. “What’s wrong with the guy on the left?”

“Well, uh…” Dean started, looking at the man you were talking about and trying to find something wrong with him. “Nothing. If he comes over here, I’d say it’s worth a shot.”

“Shouldn’t I go and talk to him?” you asked.

“Oh no! No, no, no! Bar like this, pretty girl like you; he’ll think you’re a hooker.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, unless you wanna make a couple hundred bucks tonight?” he teased, earning a smack to his upper arm. “I’ll take that as a no,” he laughed.

“I’d make at least four-hundred,” you scoffed.

“Look, you’re cute and sweet and guys tend to turn their heads when you walk by them. Now, for your next lesson, take a look around the bar and tell me how many women you see.”

You looked around, counting in your head. “Five, including me and the bartender,” you said.

“And how many guys?”

“I’d say like twenty at least?” you estimated.

“Exactly,” he said. “See, at least half of those guys have their eyes on you. When we were playing pool earlier I guarantee you they’d have done anything to be where I was.”

“So…what’s your point?”

“You’re way above any of these guys’ leagues.” He shrugged. “Which is okay, but you need to know that you’re too good for them, just a fact. They’re spending their Wednesday night in a bar looking for a hookup, you came here to get a drink with your friend. So, like I said, you are in fact way out of their leagues.”

“You really think so?”

“Please tell me you’re joking,” he laughed a little then looked at you and realized you were serious. “Oh dear god, yes! Not only are you fucking gorgeous, you’re smart, funny and a total badass! I mean you killed two vampires this morning!”

“Thanks, Dean.” You smiled.

“Of course,” he replied. “Now, before we head back to the motel is there anything else? You know how to kiss someone, right?”

“Ha, ha!” You smiled sarcastically. “I know how to kiss, Dean. But, I actually do have a question.”

“Shoot!”

“What about…the friend zone?”

“You wanna know how to friend zone a guy?” He furrowed his brows.

“No, how do I get out of the friend zone?”

“Oh.” He nodded. “That’s, um, I’m actually not sure. And I didn’t think you had friends?”

“Again, very funny Dean,” you laughed somewhat sarcastically. “What if I’m good friends with a guy and I really like him, but I’m scared to tell him because I don’t want to lose the friendship?”

“Look, Sam loves you but he doesn’t see you…that way,” he said.

“It’s not Sam, dumbass,” you said. “I have plenty of friends! And there’s this one friend, who’s a guy that I really like. I don’t think he feels the same way, but it’s driving me absolutely crazy that I can’t just tell him.”

“I, uh, I don’t know. I mean, I always think the guy has more to lose if that situation goes south, cause he’ll always be attracted to the girl but she might…get bored with him.”

“But what if the guy doesn’t like me back? What if I tell him and he says ‘gross, you’re like a sister to me’?”

“If he does see you as a sister, he’s not gonna say ‘gross’ when you tell him how you feel?”

“How do you know?”

“Cause I know Sam and he’d be lucky to have a girl like you.”

“It’s not Sam, you moron!” you exclaimed, a little louder than intended.

“…Garth?”

“What if the guy I really like is also really dumb?” you asked.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say Garth is dumb…”

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Yeah, never mind.” You put your face in your hands for a moment before starting to drink the beer Dean had ordered for you. He watched you with furrowed brows and it felt like an eternity (really it was about sixty seconds) before he suddenly broke the silence.

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed. “Is it…me?”

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking over at him. “I didn’t plan on letting that slip tonight, I swear.”

“But, it is me? You like me?” Dean asked, you nodded. “Oh my fucking god!”

You couldn’t tell if he was happy and you were beginning to really worry.

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. You turned on your chair to leave but he gripped your upper arm and kept you in place.

“No, don’t—fuck! I feel like I just won the fucking lottery and I just need a second to catch up.”

“Wait, you’re happy? You…You like me too?”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded, “I may be stupid but I’m not an idiot.”

“Well…” you teased.

He rolled his eyes, still smiling; “Just let me kiss you, already,” Dean muttered. He put his hands on your cheeks, stood up off his chair, leaned toward you, and kissed you deeply. His hands moved to your shoulders then down to your lower back as you put your hands on his cheeks.

“Wait,” you mumbled, pulling back slightly.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, you’re incredible! I’m just now realizing how many creepy guys are staring at me.”

“Told ya,” he said, taking a look around the bar.

“Could we, maybe…head to your motel room?” you asked somewhat nervously.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Hundred percent.” You nodded vigorously, looking at his lips then up and into his bright green eyes. “Unless…you don’t want to?”

“Oh I definitely want to, I’ve wanted to since Sam and I picked you up after he left Stanford,” he said.

“And you didn’t say anything? Dean, it’s been like ten years?” You furrowed your brows then noticed he actually seemed a little embarrassed. “For the record, I’ve wanted to kiss you for about twelve.” His eyes widened.

“What? Wow, I guess we’re both a little stupid,” he laughed a little before leaning in for another kiss.

“Excuse me, Winchester?” You quirked a brow, looking at him.

“I mean, you’re smart, so smart,” he rambled a little. “And sexy, so fucking sexy.” He kissed you and you kissed him back, smiling against his mouth. “Let’s get the hell outta here, sweetheart.”

“Mmh, just another minute,” you mumbled, not wanting to stop kissing him.

He pulled away after a moment, both of you smiling.

“My god you’re beautiful.” He smiled, putting a hand on your cheek.

You hopped off the stool but stayed looking into his eyes; “You’re so fuckin’ hot, Dean Winchester,” you mumbled and kissed him again, pulling him down by the collar of his jacket.

He pulled out his wallet and was about to pay for both drinks but you stopped him.

“What’s wrong?”

“If you pay for my drink then this would count as our first date,” you said.

“Huh, I didn’t think of it like that,” he replied. “Alright, we each pay for our own drinks.”

“Exactly.” You nodded and took out your own wallet, each of you leaving a ten on the counter. “Now, shall we go to your motel room?”

“I’m sharing a room with Sammy,” he said.

“My motel room it is.” You pulled him down again and kissed him.

“Lead the way.”

You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring lightly behind you and a smile formed on your lips as you recalled what had happened only a few hours ago. You felt Dean’s arm snake around your waist and he pulled you closer to him.

You assumed he was awake now and you turned to kiss him but he was actually still snoring. The thought that he wanted you closer to him even when he was sleeping made your smile deepen.

A wave of calmness washed over you, followed by an unnerving idea; how serious was Dean when he said he liked you?

Did he think this was a one-and-done situation? Were he and Sam just gonna drive off in that beautiful Impala and leave you to start hunting alone?

You hadn’t hunted alone since re-connecting with the Winchesters back in ‘05. Before that you’d been hunting alone or with Dean while Sam was in college. Before that you’d hunted with your dad, who occasionally worked with John.

You honestly didn’t really remember the first time you met Dean. You were both just kids and you blocked out a lot of your childhood due to the fact you’d been hunting your whole life. (It was actually a similar story to Dean’s—after a monster killed your mom, your dad became obsessed with hunting and seemed to forget he was a father with a four-year-old in the back seat of his pickup truck.)

What you did remember was the first time hunting alone with Dean. You were twenty-two and (finally) not hunting with your dad when you ran into Dean who was also hunting alone. He had recently had some kind of falling out with Sam, who had been at Stanford a couple years already. You remembered how Dean reacted to the fact you were hunting alone.

He was genuinely worried for your safety and insisted he hunt with you for a while. You took him up on the offer and spent a couple months together before parting ways but still staying in touch.

You were drawn back to the present when Dean let out a breath of air as he stirred awake.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, a smile on his full lips when he opened his eyes. He sat up on his elbow and tilted your chin up with his finger. “My god, how are you so beautiful?” You giggled a little before he bent down and kissed you.

He sat up further and slipped an arm under you, bringing you to the center of the bed. He caged you beneath him by putting his hands on either side of you as your hands went into his already ruffled hair. You brought him back down and kissed him again, his left hand moving again and trailing down your side, bringing your bare thigh up to graze his own.

You could tell where things were going so you stopped him, “Dean.”

“Y/n,” he mumbled back.

“Dean, wait,” you said quietly.

“What is it?” he asked, looking down at you.

“How, um, how serious is this?” you asked.

“What?” He furrowed his brows a little.

“Is this a one-night thing?”

“Oh,” he realized. “Um, it can be, if that’s what you want.”

“Is that…what you want?” you asked.

He looked into your eyes and slowly shook his head negatively, your smile returning to your flushed face.

“I was kinda thinking this would be at least a two-night thing,” he said, showing off his adorable smirk and making you roll your eyes a little. He bent down and kissed you. “Maybe a three-night thing.”

“A four-night thing?” you teased.

“I think you’re gonna be stuck with me for a lot longer than that, sweetheart,” he mumbled into your mouth.

“You really think?” you asked, smiling.

“Hate to break it to you, but I’m kinda in love with you.” He stopped kissing you, realizing what he said. “I, uh, I mean, not—fuck, I really am. I’m sorry.”

“Dean,” you interrupted his spiraling, “I’m kinda in love with you too.”

“Oh thank goodness,” he whispered and kissed you again.

#spn #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #by mind empty just fictional people #by mind empty just fictional people #<- still no clue why these are two different tags #by jean

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fics-and-quotes-andthelike · 7 months

Text

Better Late Than Never

Title: Better Late Than Never

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female reader

Word Count: ~2,143

In which the reader’s love language is physical touch, but has never touched Dean…in public.

A/N: I really hope you guys like this one! Thanks so much for reading and for your support. If you have any requests for a fic, feel free to give me a character and a prompt/explanation for what you’d like!

Your love language has always been physical touch. A quick brush of hands here, an innocent kiss to the cheek there. Whether it was your friend or your significant other, touch was just something you used to show that you cared.

So it meant a lot to you when, after you moved in with the Winchesters, Sam had quickly picked up on your love language and allowed you to give him occasional hugs. He’d also gone out of his way to hug you, or even just put a reassuring hand on your shoulder once in a while.

But even though you felt more than comfortable with Sam, you were the first to admit that you’d never so much as given Dean a high five.

In front of others.

In the privacy of an empty bunker or motel room, you and Dean had no problem brushing against each other and exchanging brief touches. Eventually, the brief touches had turned into longer ones, and hands drifted from your shoulder to the small of your back. Then those touches turned into sitting right beside each other, your head resting on his shoulder as he peppered kisses on the top of your head. And after that, kisses on your head turned to kisses on your lips, while hands on your back turned into hands grasping your hips.

But as soon as Sam, Cas, Charlie, or anyone else walked through the door, you would revert back to no touches at all.

It’s not that you didn’t want to. He truly meant the world to you. But every time someone would walk into the room, he would pull away. And you never wanted to make Dean feel uncomfortable, even if it was killing you inside. So, to respect his space, you’d never so much as given Dean a high five in front of other people.

Until today.

A hunt had gone sideways when a djinn had outsmarted the three of you and gotten its hands on Dean while you and Sam had been out getting dinner.

When you got back to the motel room to see that Dean was gone and not answering his phone, you and Sam had come up with a plan. A questionable plan, for sure, but it was all that you could come up with in the limited time that you were allowed.

Now, the two of you sat in Baby, reviewing the plan before you burst into the abandoned warehouse where Dean was being kept.

“Whatever you do, don’t engage with the djinn, got it? I’ll take care of him, you take care of Dean.”

You nodded stiffly, your eyes on the building ahead. “I hear you, I got it. But if you’re in any trouble-”

Sam sighed in exasperation. “Would you just listen to me for a second-”

You looked up at him, fury in your gaze. “I will not let that djinn take you, too.”

Sam’s gaze softened. For all of the sweet touches that you passed around, you were still a hunter, willing to hurt anything that came between you and your family.

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and leaned towards you. “Hey. We’re going to be okay, alright? Us and Dean, we’re getting out of here. And that djinn isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

He kept his hand on your shoulder until you finally nodded in agreement, a half smile taking shape on your lips. You took a deep breath and checked the bullets in your gun and the knife hidden in your jacket as Sam checked the knife dipped in lamb’s blood and the colt in his holster one last time.

As you went through your mental checklist, you couldn’t help the bolt of fear that shot through you when you realized that the djinn could have easily killed Dean hours ago.

You shook your head at the thought. Dean was tough, and if the djinn was probably desperate to make his life force last as long as possible.

You shook out your nerves one last time before you straightened up and looked towards Sam. “Alright,” you muttered. “Let’s get this thing.”

The two of you got out of the car quietly before making your way to the door of the warehouse. Sam put a finger to his lips as he tried the door. You both made a face of surprise when the door gave way easily. Sam led the way as you crept inside, hoping against all odds that the rest of the revue would go this smoothly.

But of course, it wouldn’t really be a Winchester hunt if nothing went wrong.

As soon as you and Sam entered the building, you were ambushed by the waiting djinn. With the advantage of surprise on its side, it quickly overpowered Sam and tossed him to the side before it turned its attention toward you.

You cursed under your breath and raised your gun, knowing full well that it and your knife would do nothing to save you, since the plan had been that you would never have to face the djinn. The djinn smiled at your panic, pacing towards you swiftly.

Suddenly, Sam appeared once again behind the djinn. The djinn whirled around and just barely managed to dodge the knife that Sam swung its way.

Sam risked a glance over to you. “Go! Get Dean!”

You nodded, though he had already turned back to face the djinn.

You looked around wildly, hoping for some kind of sign as to where Dean could be. You startled when you heard faint gasping coming from one of the rooms to your right.

Dean. You sighed in relief as you followed the sound. He had probably saved himself from his fantasy world. You shuddered as you remembered what he’d had to do to escape his dream, and started moving faster.

You entered the room cautiously, gun in hand. From your left, a weak voice croaked out your name.

You whirled around to find Dean weak and bound, but utterly alive. You felt tears well up in your eyes as you ran over to him, shoving your gun back in its holster so that you could grab your knife and cut through his bindings.

Dean looked up at you and smiled weakly. “Hey, sweetheart.”

You ignored him, focused solely on setting him free. Your hands were shaking, making it harder to cut through the ropes. Finally, with an extra push, your knife cut through. You dropped it so that you could catch Dean, who slumped forward as soon as he was able to move again.

You slowly lowered the two of you to the ground, allowing him to catch his breath. “Are you okay?” you asked, a slight tremor in your voice.

Dean looked up at you, his eyes soft as he searched your face. “I’m alright.”

His gaze sharpened suddenly, and he looked around the room. “Where’s Sammy?”

Your head snapped over to the door, through which you could hear sounds of a fight. You cursed lightly under your breath as you stood.

Dean moved to stand as well, but you placed your hands on his shoulders and pushed him back lightly. “Stay here,” you ordered. “I’ll help Sam.”

“I’m not gonna-”

“Stay. Here.”

Dean eyed you stubbornly, but seemed to think better of himself, and nodded once for you to go on. He watched as you picked up your knife and handed it to him before you exited the room, jumping straight into the fight.

He sighed and leaned back against the wall behind him. Normally, he wouldn’t have stayed behind, regardless of what you or Sam said. But as he lay still against the wall, he couldn’t help but remember the dream that he’d been forced into.

You, him, and Sam. There’d been no more monsters. No fighting, no war. Just the three of you, living peacefully.

Jess had been there. She and Sam had gotten married, and Sam was the happiest man around. Or maybe not the happiest. Dean himself had been pretty happy too, with you by his side, through sickness and health. Finally free to hug and love each other freely, regardless of who was around.

He smiled as he looked back on it, but immediately broke out of his memory and jerked to attention as he heard footsteps enter the room.

Panic filled his body. Was it the djinn? Had he gotten to you and Sam? He clutched the knife you had given him in his hand, ready to make good use of it.

He heard Sam call out his name, relief filling his body. Dean opened his eyes and stood slowly, smiling at the two hunters watching him with concerned eyes. “Hey, Sammy.”

You heard Sam laugh breathlessly in relief while your eyes raked over Dean’s body, making sure that he wasn’t hiding an injury.

Dean tilted his head slightly, meeting your eyes. “I’m fine. Honest.”

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. You were aware of Sam saying something next to you, but you couldn’t focus on his words, your attention solely on Dean.

When Dean looked over at you again, a small smile on his lips and concern in his eyes, you couldn’t help yourself. You threw down your weapon and ran over, throwing yourself into his arms.

You’d never been hugged like that before.

His arms wound themselves around your body and tightened, pressing you against him. His hands were open, one resting on your shoulder and one on your side, both tugging you closer than you thought possible. His head rested on top of yours, and he murmured reassurances into your ear as he slowly rocked you side to side.

Through it all, you could faintly hear the sound of Sam leaving the room, giving the two of you some space.

When you finally pulled back, Dean’s hands didn’t leave you, instead resting on your hips as he pressed his forehead to yours.

Your hands fluttered between his shoulders, his neck, and his face as you closed your eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. “I thought you were dead.”

Dean chuckled and gave the barest shake of his head, bringing his hands up to rest them on yours where they sat cradling his face. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”

You laughed. “Because my life revolves around you?”

“Because then we’d never be able to tell Sam about us.”

You felt your face change, your smile dropping as you stepped away from Dean.

He looked back at you as his arms dropped down to his sides, hurt evident on his face. “What did I do? Are we not…?”

“No!” You exclaimed, shaking your head quickly.

You saw disappointment and shame flit across his features. You shook your head again. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant…I just…I wasn’t sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“It’s just…” You steeled yourself. “You always pull away from me. I thought maybe you were embarrassed or something. Or maybe you just wanted me to help you feel better-”

Dean’s whole body jerked with surprise and he stepped towards you, arms outstretched. “No, sweetheart, that’s not it at all. I’m just…” He hesitated, only a step away from you as his arms dropped. “I’m not good with mushy gushy crap. You know that.”

You smiled cautiously. “I know. Nothing wrong with that.”

He nodded, unmoving.

You took a step towards him. “Maybe we could…work on it together?”

A smirk crossed his face as he reached an arm around your back and pulled you closer. “Oh, yeah?”

A laugh crossed your lips. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Dean leaned his head down to softly brush his lips against yours. “I know.”

You felt him stiffen as you both heard footsteps re-enter the room, with Sam loudly complaining, “You guys good to go?”

You moved to pull away, muscle memory taking over, when Dean suddenly cupped your face with one hand and pressed his other hand against your back. His eyes searched yours. “Is this okay?”

Your heart was hammering against your chest, the knowledge that what you said could determine your whole relationship with both Winchesters weighing on your brain.

You heard Sam’s footsteps moving closer and smiled breathlessly. “Yeah,” you managed to say before he connected his lips to yours.

“Guys,” Sam repeated as he stepped into the room. His eyes landed on the two of you, your hands cupping Dean’s face as he pulled you closer still. He chuckled and turned away, but not before shouting, “It’s about time!”

He could hear Dean telling him where to shove it as he walked away, and he couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that the two of you genuinely believed that nobody had noticed your secret relationship these past two years.

Oh well, he thought to himself. Better late than never.

#supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x reader #supernatural fluff #dean x reader fluff #sam and dean #fanfic #fic #castiel #supernatural charlie #supernatural imagines #incorrect supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #fem reader #fluff

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flow33didontsmoke · 26 days

Text

You’re dating early seasons Dean Winchester.

divider: @cafekitsune

reblogs are appreciated, asks open

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #x reader #moodboard #dean winchester moodboard #dating moodboard #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x gn!reader #dean winchester comfort

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deanbrainrotwritings · 2 months

Text

— A GUIDEBOOK FOR SINNERS TURNED SAINTS

SUMMARY : dean uses the sexiest seduction methods to get laid when he keeps getting cockblocked by his gaming girlfriend

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : smut, fluff, angst?, dean being cute, gamer girlfriend problems, unprotected sex (dean wears condoms in the show, you should too), oral sex (f. receiving), filth, dean being really horny, reader being really horny, cowboy dean = cowboy kink, squirting, slow and possibly over-descriptive?, two people being insane for each other? >:)

WORD COUNT : 8.8k

A/N : title from a jamie’s elsewhere album. this fills the square for “first one to make a noise loses” on my @jacklesversebingo card.

Today was a lazy day. In fact, the whole week was eventless in terms of monsters going out to eat people. Sam took the time to meet with Eileen, staying with her in a much nicer hotel than they were used to sleeping in. Dean and Y/n choose to stay in and enjoy having the Bunker all to themselves.

For Dean, it meant eating junk food, sleeping in and sleeping late, binge watching shows and having movie marathons, checking up on the cars in the garage, cleaning everything but messing up Sam’s room. For Y/n that meant catching up on the latest season of her favourite video game, playing with and talking to random people to complete group missions and challenges, reading books she’s been meaning to finish, hanging out with Dean and doing whatever he wanted, trying new recipes, and reading the nerdiest articles just to know things.

It was the fourth day of their ‘vacation’, Y/n decided to play while Dean cooked as soon as she cleaned up the Bunker with him. Dean went to her room with a plate of food, the place where she once slept in became an activity room where she worked on her hobbies. Now having Dean’s room to sleep in, his drawers were filled with her socks, underwear, and bras. She wore his shirts as dresses instead of completely taking over his room, having to walk a short distance to get to her room where her clothes, trinkets, souvenirs, and more of her items remained.

“Hey, darlin’,” Dean smiled cutely at her.

“Hey, baby,” Y/n smiled up at him, turning her attention away from her game despite her screen turning red from the damage she was taking. “Oh, yummy,” she murmured, ogling him entering her room in just a pair of black boxers. He snorted at her. “Oh, yummy,” she repeated, this time eyeing the plate of waffles, whipped cream, and fruit--some of it cut into hearts. “Dean,” she giggled, accepting a slow kiss from him when he leaned down with puckered lips.

“What?” he murmured against her lips, smiling as he pulled away. “You died.” She turned away from him and shrugged when she saw the ‘revive’ button on her screen.

“Thanks.” She smiled ignoring her game to admire him, kissing his cheek appreciatively.

“For gettin’ you killed?” She laughed, raising a brow at him.

“Getting shy about the heart-shaped fruits?” She asked, turning away from her computer by spinning her chair slightly to face him completely, and crossing her arms over her chest, staring at him dead in the eyes with a smirk.

“Pff,” he sputtered, staring at the plate in his hands to avoid the cutely decorated plate in front of her and her teasing gaze, but an unmistakable blush brought colour to his ears and neck. She squinted her eyes at him when he turned back to her, her grin widening because she already knew he was bashful for having done something so cheesy. “Shuddup,” he said meekly, smiling with embarrassment.

“Uh-huh.”

He turned away from her, avoiding her. She let him walk away, waiting for him to place his plate on her night stand before getting up to hug him from behind. “Hey,” she laughed, squeezing his waist with her arms.

“Leave me alone,” he laughed, wiggling in her arms until she let him go.

She squeezed his ass playfully, and he stiffened, grabbing her hand--still laughing--and turned to face her. She was faster than him, tugging her arm towards herself so he’d stumble towards her, like a dance, she moved in a circle so his back faced the bed. “Hey!” He protested playfully, the breath getting knocked out of him from surprise when he fell into her bouncy bed.

“Why’d you take off your clothes?” She asked, climbing up on top of him before he could even think about sitting up. His stomach clenched delightfully at the sight of her on top of him, holding his wrists above his head with her small hands. He bit his lip when her bare thighs brushed against the skin of his waist, his cock stirring in the soft cotton of his boxer briefs.

“I… Uh, it was hot in the kitchen,” he lied, his voice deeper than before, coated in desire. She tilted her head, a knowing smirk stretching across her lips.

“Because the kitchen started to heat up from your cooking? Or because you’ve got the nastiest, sluttiest imagination?” She murmured, leaning forward, brushing her lips against his.

“Uh,” he paused, closing his eyes, waiting for a kiss that never came. He opened his eyes to look at what she was doing, flushing with embarrassment when she giggled at him. She released his wrists, resting her hands flat on his chest so she wouldn’t fall on top of him from her laughing fit. He grumbled friskily, large hands grasping her soft thighs to flip her over onto her back. She squealed, clinging to him as best as she could while laughing hard.

“Whoa,” she chuckled, wiping tears from her eyes.

He was busy nibbling her ear, one of his hands pressing against the small of her back as she arched into him, their hips slotting together perfectly for her to feel how hard he was with only the flimsy material of their underwear. He held himself above her with one of his arms resting beside her head, tangling her hair in his fingers. She squirmed at the sensation of his hot breath against her neck and his teeth gently tickling her earlobe, both sensations distracting her from everything around her, including her game that had now kicked her off the map for inactivity.

“Dean,” she whispered quietly, loosening her grip on the sheets to tease the waistband of his boxer briefs.

He began to kiss her jaw instead, brushing his lips teasingly, slowly down her throat until she moved her head to the side to give him more access to her neck, to let him lick gently at the sensitive flesh behind her ear. He breathed her in, the softness of her perfume and the sweetness of her shampoo making him dizzy and weak.

She rolled her hips up against his, encouraging him, her pussy tingling with lust, aching to be touched by him. An exhale shakily slipped past her parted lips. She could easily feel how hard he was through the thin layer of clothes between them, warmth spreading across her skin, her heart thumping loudly, the blood rushing through her body increasing the pleasure he was making her feel.

She continued to move her hips against his, legs parted needily, her grip on his hips keeping her movements hard and steady. He grunted her name against her skin, the feeling of her rubbing herself against him making him needier. He moved his hand from her back to her hip, squeezing roughly. He could feel her sneaky hands slowly lowering his underwear, but he continued to lick at her skin, teeth sinking into her soft flesh, mouth suctioning hard until marks adorned her smooth skin.

“You’re so soft, baby,” he murmured, moving away from her neck to venture down her body, lifting the black shirt up her body. “So warm,” he whispered, kissing the flesh above the waistband of her underwear. “I need you so bad,” he mumbled against her stomach.

“Then fuck me, Dean,” she replied breathily.

He chuckled, trailing open mouthed kisses up her torso, biting and sucking to embellish her skin with possessive marks. He lifted the shirt higher, revealed the soft flesh of her breasts and her hardened nipples. She shivered, her skin prickling from the contrast of his warm breath and the cool air in the room.

“How bad do you want it, baby?” He asked with a smug smile, but he interrupted her by sucking her nipple into his mouth when she was going to speak; instead a strangled moan replaced her words. He grabbed her other breast in his large hand, squeezing it slowly, teasing the sensitive skin of her nipple with his thumb.

“Please,” she moaned, arching her back and slipping her fingers through his soft hair. He only moaned in response, swiping his tongue over her nipple, teeth scraping her flesh, almost painfully pinching her nipple in hopes that it would make her pull his hair. “Fuck, baby, I love your mouth,” she praised, tugging at his hair to bring him up for a kiss.

“Want it?” He asked with a grin, blowing air over her saliva-coated nipple. “Want it on yours?” He teased, kissing his way across to her other breast, giving it the same attention as the other. “Or do you want me to keep it here?” He murmured, circling her nipple with the tip of his tongue, then sucked on it gently. With both of her hands on him, she pulled the hair at the top of his head and dug her fingernails into his bicep, whining. “Want it somewhere else?” He asked, sliding both of his hands down her sides until he was holding her impatient hips still against the bed. His pinkies moved underneath her panties. “Like right here?”

“Fuck, yes,” she whispered.

A loud blaring alarm from Y/n’s phone interrupted him from pulling her underwear off. He looked back at the source with a scowl, but otherwise began to tug her underwear down. She slowly sat up anyway, confused by the alarm she had no memory of setting. Dean ignored the alarm, slapping her thigh so she’d part her legs again and lay down, but she was deep in thought, attempting to remember the reason she’d set the alarm, her face pinched in concentration.

“Oh… shit,” she scrambled up off the bed suddenly, lifting her underwear back in place. Just like that, the need for him to take her dissipated. His mouth fell open in disbelief, perceiving her sudden regained interest in returning to her game.

“Babe,” he scoffed, “seriously?” She looked back at him, immediately apologetic.

“I’m… sorry, D,” she chuckled, “I forgot I’d promised to help with this raid. Raincheck?” She bit her lip, shaking her leg even as she stood.

“How ‘bout you put a raincheck on that and come back to bed with me?” He suggested, but there wasn’t much confidence in his voice or his words.

“Dean,” she started, turning away from him to set up her mic and headset. He groaned, falling back into the bed. “Eat your breakfast and I swear I’ll make it up to you,” she offered, still with her back facing him. He sat up and glared at her, then smiled innocently when she turned back to raise a brow at his silence. “Don’t look at me like that!” She pouted, his lips parted and he was ready to argue. “Don’t lie to me! I know you,” she cut him off, turning away and sitting back in her seat with an exaggerated huff.

“Cockblock,” he murmured, playfully.

“Shut up,” she retorted, smiling.

Dean groaned, long and childish, before doing as she told him to do. He peeked over her chair to watch her play and grumbled begrudging words under his breath when she laughed at something one of her teammates said. He whined loudly again and she turned back just to raise a brow at him.

“I’m gonna make you pay,” he mouthed to her. She squinted her eyes and shook her head, turning her attention back on the game. Dean opened the laptop on the bed and dug into his food halfheartedly, looking for something to watch with no interest in actually finding something.

Occasionally, Dean would glance up from his plate to see that Y/n’s character was standing still behind a building while she ate, then she’d stop eating to move her character or to shoot at someone that was about to kill her. He wondered how long it would take for her to get the raid done, hell, he even considered learning how to play just to be with her.

Dean waited for half an hour before shutting his laptop and placing it on the nightstand. He stared boredly as Y/n planned out the next encounter and what each person had to do to succeed. He sighed and took his plate, checking Y/n’s desk for hers, which was also empty. Dean pressed a kiss to the top of her head before making his way out of her room.

Dean busied himself with washing the dishes, making sure to do it slowly, but it only gave his mind the chance to go to the gutter.

He remembered a few times when he’d licked whipped cream off her naked body, or when she’d licked honey off his. It was like his mind was working against him, forcing him to relive the way she tasted, the way she felt so soft beneath him, how hot she looked when she rode him, all of their trysts swam around his head, even the daring things they’d done suddenly came to the front of his mind.

Like that time Sam went on a hunt with Eileen and Dean had decided to walk around naked for the whole week. The amount of times he fucked Y/n was legendary, especially the locations they chose. Including right where he was currently washing the dishes. It was the first day he’d decided to go nude, she was washing the dishes from the previous night and he snuck up behind her with his face buried in her neck.

She’d reached behind to playfully smack his ass the way she always did, but was stunned by the feeling of skin. She’d laughed for while and he joked back before grasping her hips, tugging her pink underwear down her legs to stop at her knees, and fucking her. It was domestic, that turned him on the most, remembering her with her hair messy morning hair--sex-hair, really, because they’d fucked the previous night. She was just in his flannel and she looked hot, the way she always did, beautiful. He vividly remembers the way his cum had dripped down her thighs when he pulled out of her.

He moaned softly at the memory, the sound coming out almost whiny.

What was that sex they had the previous night? Well, it was the reason she was washing dishes that morning. He’d gotten up in the middle of the night to snack on something because he got hungry and as he cleaned up, using only a small lamp to see the kitchen, she’d snuck up on him.

He got scared, when she stood still at the entrance of the kitchen just in his robe. Then he laughed when she moved and came into the light, and just like the next morning, she joked back, then he lifted her up on the metal counter, opening the robe to see her wearing nothing, and he fucked her while staring deeply into her sleepy eyes as she clung to him. His robe caught all the cum that spilled out of her and she put it in the washing machine, despite his protests.

He licked his lips at these memories, feeling uncomfortably hot, with his cock hard again.

Sam always scolded Dean for his seemingly high libido, and Dean usually brushed it off because he didn’t always get laid. When they went on hunts, it was hard to find someone willing to have sex with no strings attached. Even before Y/n, it was just an occasional thing, when he saved the girl--if the occasion happened to arise, which it rarely did because he had to be safe about who he was taking to bed.

It was all very complicated. Sex and hunting.

It wasn’t complicated now.

Dean had what he liked to call ‘a healthy appetite for his woman’. It made Y/n laugh, but Sam would grimace, and Cas would squint his eyes and tilt his head in confusion.

Finding the Bunker only intensified his ‘appetite’. And being alone with her in the Bunker made his appetite more intense, all-consuming.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered, finishing up with the dishes a little faster. He wanted to find something to do that would take his mind off things. He made a list in his head of things he could do: clean the inside of the Impala, change the oil, shower or take a bath, organise his room.

All that sounded boring enough to him, distracting enough to at least get rid of the raging boner he was sporting. He felt like a teenager again. He shook his head, drying his wet hands with a towel, double checking that the dishes were dry and clean. He grabbed the towel, letting a bit of water trickle over it to dampen it, before walking to his room.

He organised the dozens of papers he had strewn across his desk, fixed the photo of him with his mom, and cleaned away the dust trapped in the crooks and crannies with a partially wet towel he brought from the kitchen. He organised the contents inside the draws, placing the phones neatly in the back, making sure everything was in its own spot so it was evenly levelled.

He went around his room, cleaning the wooden surfaces, organising papers and books into their correct spots. For some reason, Y/n was looking at his porn last night, she mostly giggled while flipping through the magazines. She left that on the green couch.

They’d christened that, too, when he first dragged it to his room. It was pretty small, but perfect for when she was on top and he had his face buried in her chest, leaving her skin warm and damp with his breath, moaning as she bounced on his lap. He should’ve known better than to expect cleaning his room to get his mind off sex.

He picked up the flannel he’d left on the chairs and over the couch, smelling them to check if they needed to be washed. He smiled when he picked up her scent instead of his in the warm cotton of his clothes. He put some of their coats on the little hooks on the wall, checking that they were clear of stains and adding them to the pile of dirty clothes that was growing on the floor by his bed.

He checked every drawer for unnecessary items, like old candy wrappers and receipts, only throwing out the ones that weren’t associated with some good memories. Then, he fixed the contents that did belong there.

He checked under the tables, the chairs, the couch, and his bed for lost items. He found some of Y/n’s underwear and some boring black socks. He unfortunately came across the two large boxes, one filled with sex toys and the other filled with pornographic photos of him and Y/n. He was so tempted to look through them, but resisted and decided to throw out the mouldy burger he kept in his room.

He cleaned out the cupboard over the sink in his room, throwing out expired medication.

He had so much stuff in his room, but he got it all cleaned up and organised eventually.

He grabbed the dirty clothes off the floor and walked to where the washing machine and dryer were, shoving the matching clothes together into the washer and separating everything into piles along the floor. As it washed, he went to the garage to clean up his Baby and change the oil.

He went back and forth, between taking the clothes in and out of the washer, in and out of the dryer, and then to the garage until the Impala was completely clean inside, the weaponry was organised in the trunk, and the changed the oil, which got him a bit dirty. But it was his plan to shower or bathe eventually before heading back to check if Y/n had finished the raid yet.

He knew Baby would lead to some lewd memories, too. Old memories of when they had to make do in his car because they were impatient, but mostly to avoid Sam’s disgust in the times before they found the Bunker. All three of them had to share and it was a hassle having to be quick when Sam went out, while they showered, or when Sam finally fell asleep, having to be quiet. It was hard for Dean to be quiet.

Dean glared down at his erection for appearing again and cleaned up the mess he left behind to finally get cleaned. A cold shower was overdue to shock his body and to get his brain to focus on something else, literally, anything else besides how badly he wanted to sink into his girlfriend’s warmth, with her smooth legs wrapped around his waist, listening to the glorious sounds she makes, and watching how utterly enraptured she looks.

He groaned with annoyance and quickly washed his hands when he got to his room to get some clean clothes without staining it. He was about to walk out, but stopped at the door, considering one method of seduction that he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist.

He grinned and searched his room for the cowboy get-up she loved for him to wear--especially when they roleplayed. It was bound to make her forget all about that game she was so obsessed with. He chuckled and immediately wasted no time to get to the shower, cleaning and scrubbing off grease from his hands and chest, washing his hair and imagining what technique he’d use once he entered her room.

He dried himself off quickly once he stepped out of the shower, messily moving the towel over his hair until it was sticking up in all directions, almost completely dry. He changed first, very neatly flattened the white dress shirt over his chest, tucking it into his black slacks, neatly arranging the bolo tie, and stepping into some cowboy boots. He styled his hair neatly now that it was dryer, using gel to hold some of it in place, and finally--dorkily, he grabbed the beige cowboy hat and placed it gently on his head.

He checked the time on his watch, amazed to see just how much time it took for him to get everything cleaned up properly.

He hoped going back to his room to brush his teeth would give her enough time to finish up the raid. He was just stalling. He had no idea why he was getting nervous all of the sudden. They’d done things like this a thousand times before, sometimes he’d do it shamelessly with people around.

He started to second-guess everything once he got to the hallway leading up to her room. He stopped a few feet away from her door with his hands on his hips, he mumbled reassurances to himself. His heart excitedly thudded in his chest and he was already feeling a blush crawl up his face, bruning his ears and neck.

He steeled himself up, trying to be casual as he got closer and closer, letting out a heavy, shaky breath that puffed up his pink cheeks. He stepped into the room as if a gust of cold wind would greet him, but she was still focused on the game, the headset was abandoned on her desk, and she was in the strangest position ever.

She was lazily slouched in her seat, but looked amused as her fingers expertly moved across the keyboard, her wrist snapping sharply over the mouse to aim perfectly at her target. Had he not been impatient and irritatingly aroused, Dean would praise her skills and maybe stare for a bit longer because it was really hot.

“Wh…” She paused, when she saw him in her peripheral vision, now dressed, but not in the usual flannel and jeans. “What’s… up?” She asked slowly, bewildered, once she turned her head to get a good look at him.

“Nothin’,” Dean replied quickly, shrugging nonchalantly and stepping closer to her. She smiled deviously and his stomach flipped watching her lean back in the chair, completely abandoning her game.

“Nothin’?” She repeated with a chuckle, “then why are you dressed up?” She blinked up at him expectantly, even turning her whole chair in his direction, rolling forward until she was half a foot away from him.

“Uh, I’m bored,” he shrugged again, then reached behind his neck to rub it.

“Uh-huh,” she smirked, eyeing him from head to toe. His blush deepened, his confidence faltering when she bit her lip libidinously at the sight of him.

“So, it’s got nothin’ to do with this?” She asked, but before he could ask her what she was talking about, she hooked her fingers into his belt loops and tugged him forward. He swallowed to bring moisture back into his dry throat, staring into her eyes, captivated by her boldness when she brushed two of her fingers down the seam of his zipper where his cock was straining against.

“Fuck,” he rasped, breath hitching, staring into her eyes while she continued to tease him. She smirked at the stuttered breaths he took. She could clearly feel how hard he was beneath her small hand, making her pussy clench around nothing. Wetness began to dampen her underwear when his breaths came out heavy and aroused, her name slipping from his lips breathlessly. She cupped him in her hand, gently and apologetically squeezing him through the soft material of his black slacks. “Please, baby,” he begged breathily, closing his eyes. He bit his lip, felt his face and entire body flare up with desire to be fucked.

“I gotta finish this first,” she laughed playfully. His eyes snapped open and he whined, a sound that bubbled up his throat involuntarily, but it sounded so hot, Y/n nearly considered abandoning her game--mid-mission. Instead, she cleared her throat and squeezed her thighs together to stop the pulsing of her clit, giving his ass a proper smack that made him jerk forward slightly, knees hitting her chair.

“You’ve been playin’ for hours,” he whined.

She automatically smirked when he pouted, his bottom lip swollen from having been bitten by his sharp teeth. She was about to argue that she hadn’t as she checked her phone for the time, but was shocked to see it had already been four hours since she’d started playing. Somehow, it felt like she barely got anything done in the game.

Interrupting her thoughts and excuses, he leaned forward with his hand flat on her desk to hover over her. Her head snapped back in his direction and she swallowed at his proximity, her eyes immediately drawn to his pillowy pink lips, her legs practically spreading apart involuntarily when he teased the inside of her warm, bare thigh with his knuckles.

She straightened up in her seat, tightly holding the arm rests of her gaming chair when he cupped her pussy the same way she had cupped him just minutes before.

“Fuck me,” he whispered enticingly, sliding his fingers up her covered pussy, teasingly pressing his fingers into her soaked entrance and her throbbing clit. She clenched her thighs together, stopping him from repeating that manoeuvre, but he still managed to brush one of his fingers over her clit repeatedly.

“Later,” she moaned, grasping his wrist and tugging it out from between her legs.

“But you’re so wet,” he complained, dropping down to his knees between her legs. She squirmed in her seat, blushing with lust, letting him grab the back of her knees to place her legs over his shoulders. He gripped her hips and moved her forward until her cunt was right in front of his face and he kissed her pelvis, then quickly licked her clit over her underwear.

“Oh… shit,” she whispered, feeling a new wave of wetness that left her more soaked than she was seconds before. He hooked his forefinger under her underwear, pulling upwards to tease her clit with the soft fabric. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, missing the triumphant sparkle in his eyes.

“Please,” he whispered, loving the way she pulled him forward with her calves against his back, her toes curling in the teal and yellow giraffe socks he got for her two weeks ago. “Is that a ‘yes’?” He asked smugly when she brought her hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, his breath fanning over her soaked underwear, his mouth salivating at the sight of her wetness darkening the cotton.

“Yes, Dean,” she laughed softly.

He hummed softly, moving her underwear to the side to flick her clit teasingly with the tip of his tongue. Holding her underwear to the side with his thumb, he looked up at her through his thick lashes as he started to go down on her, catching her clouded gaze.

She played with the short hairs at the back of his head, biting her lip in amusement.

“What?” He asked, leaning forward to flatten his tongue over her clit, coating it in his saliva. She waited for a while, appreciating the sight of his pretty face shoved between her legs and the way he licked at her clit.

“I love you,” she murmured. He hummed softly in response, gently sucking on her clit, circling an arm around her hips when she arched her back and moaned.

“I know,” he teased, pulling away momentarily to lap at her dripping entrance. “You love my mouth,” he quipped, his tongue pushing through the spasming walls of her pussy. He pushed his face completely against her cunt, his nose teasing her clit, moaning softly when she squeezed his tongue once it slipped as deep as he could push it inside her.

“That too,” she agreed with laughter in her otherwise breathless voice. She tipped the hat on his head back slightly, exposing him to her again. “Among other things,” she added quietly. Another hum moved through her and her thighs twitched in response to the vibrations it created on her pussy.

He closed his eyes, wiggling his tongue inside her before pulling out and tracing her labia, leaving traces of his saliva behind. He left open mouthed kisses on her sex, his eyes fluttering open attractively, gazing up at her to see how she was doing.

“G.... Dean…” she gasped, longing for more, “please.”

“You made me wait,” he countered, leaning back to pull her legs off his shoulders.

“What? Are you mad?” She teased with a stunned laugh as he grabbed the seam of her socks to slide them off her feet. He gave her a deadpan look in response, but tugged her underwear off nonetheless.

“No,” he replied eventually, dangling her ruined underwear in front of her. “I’ve got my face buried in this sweet pussy of yours,” he smirked. Her stomach clenched with desire and her breath got caught in her chest the way the words sounded so hot coming out of his mouth. She snatched her underwear away from him, blushing, and threw them across the room.

He ignored it, eyes fixed between her legs.

“Look at how wet you are for me, darlin’, practically dripping,” he chuckled deeply, slapping her clit with three fingers.

She jolted in surprise, “fuck.”

“I’ve got other stuff in mind,” he dismissed, standing up to twirl her chair slightly, so the back of it hit her desk, stopping it from moving around too much. He grabbed the hem of the shirt she was wearing and tugged it upwards, letting her take it off the rest of the way, just for her to throw it behind her. It ended up draped over her monitor.

“Like what?” She asked curiously, eyes glued on him as he walked towards the bed to grab the pillow to place it in front of her. He dropped down on it, shifting on his knees to test the way it felt beneath him. She regained his attention by tapping his nose with her forefinger. He scrunched it up adorably, took her hand in his and gave her fingertips a little kiss. She smiled down at him and watched him stand on his knees, leaning forward with two fingers under her chin.

“Have I fucked you in this chair?” He wondered out loud, pecking her lips as she replied with a ‘no’. She smiled, closing her eyes, holding onto the lapels of his black suit to steady herself. His nose brushed against hers, teasing her lips with his soft breath. “Have I fingered you in it? Or eaten you out?” He kissed her in between each question, dropping his hand from her chin to knead her thighs.

“No,” she whispered, her body tingling pleasantly, vibrating with longing.

He hummed softly, easily pushing his tongue past her lips, and lifted her thighs to position them over the armrests of her chair. She moaned softly, tasting the fresh mint of toothpaste on his tongue. She slid her hands up his chest, into his soft hair to carefully tug at the short strands without disturbing the hat at the top of his head. She tilted her head to deepen the kiss, vaguely aware of his fingertips brushing along the inside of her thigh.

He popped his thumb into his mouth, covering it in spit before pressing his fingers against her skin as he reached to find her clit between her damp folds with his thumb. Her stomach twisted, aching for more, but she accepted what he gave her, relishing in the gentle touches to her cunt, in the way he kissed her breath away, slowly sucking her tongue, and heatedly licking into her mouth.

His wet thumb moved over her clit, rubbing up and down languidly, then in circles while her walls squeezed around nothing. She moaned into his mouth needily, withdrawing her tongue from within his mouth to suck and bite at his plump, bottom lip. He smiled and circled two fingers around her entrance, gathering the wetness that made her folds glisten.

“Holy--” she gasped suddenly, pulling away from his mouth when he subsequently pushed a finger into her. He used one of his arms to push her thigh against the armrest, keeping her fairly still.

“There ain’t nothin’ holy ‘bout what I wanna do to you, sweetheart,” he murmured, dropping wet kisses over her chest. He smirked against her cleavage when her pussy squeezed his finger in return, so he pushed another one into her. Slowly, he stretched her open, the burn of his thick fingers, the way he pushed them deeper and deeper until his knuckles stopped him turned her on more and more.

He stopped kissing her breasts, licking his lips when he gave her a quick glance from under the rim of his cowboy hat. He tipped his chin downward to watch her stretch around his fingers, his cock now painfully hard. When he brought his fingers out slightly, they reappeared drenched in her arousal, making it easier for him to scissor them back into her. He bit his lip roughly, listening only to her broken breaths, faintly aware of her rigid grip on his forearms.

She squirmed restlessly in the chair, her clit aching for attention.

He curled his fingers inside her, pressing into her and stroking her inner walls so she could feel the sparks of her impending orgasm. He shifted his arm against her thigh to hold her hip in a rather harsh squeeze that she found more pleasurable than uncomfortable.

“Touch your tits, babe,” he instructed, leaning forward so the edge of his cowboy hat teased her skin, depositing little kisses down her stomach to take her clit between his lips once again. She cried out softly, hands cupping her breasts, on her way to pinch her nipples and roll them between her fingers. Her hips bucked against Dean’s strong hold so he gave her the freedom to move as much as she wanted.

He licked ravenously at her clit, drawing circles on and around it, and simultaneously, he pushed a third finger into her. He let her roll her hips up, following her lead as he sucked and expertly caressed her clit with his tongue.

“Dean,” she mewled. He grinned against her pussy, moaning in acknowledgment, speeding up the thrust of his fingers, delighting in the obscene squelch of her cunt each time he pushed them into her.

Her back arched further and her head fell back against the chair as her orgasm approached. He continued sucking her clit earnestly, his nose pressed against her silky skin, grunting the instant her pussy throbbed around all three of his fingers. He moved his arm to wrap around her hips, pressing her closer to his mouth, covetously squeezing her flesh to enhance the pleasure she felt from her orgasm.

“Oh… fuck… yes,” she gasped, pushing her hips closer to his drooling mouth, teetering on the edge of never ending pleasure. One of her hands released her breast to press against the back of his neck, holding his face impossibly close to her pussy. Her free thigh found its way back over his shoulder as powerful pulses of pleasure made her body shake and shudder.

“Dean,” she praised passionately, followed by a few, more desperate whispers of his name and drawn-out curse words that ended only when she was coming down her high.

Dean carefully pulled his fingers out of her, abandoning her sensitive clit to look up at her whilst she caught her breath, her heartbeat slowing down. He licked his swollen, wet lips, smiling at the sight of her glowing and blissed out semblance.

He murmured her name and kissed her across her hips, massaging the thigh she had placed over his shoulder. He splayed his hand across her back and kissed his way back down to lick her clean, murmuring adorations against her skin. She hummed fondly, eyes slowly fluttering open to gaze at her lover.

“Are you gonna remember how I made you cum in this chair?” He jested quietly, then rubbed his fingers together, playing with her cum. He popped his fingers into his watering mouth, pretty, green eyes now staring up into hers.

She laughed and nodded, biting her lip.

“Awesome,” he grinned, standing up weakly to stretch.

She straightened up in her chair, beholding him and all the effort he put into seducing her. She nibbled on her lip, letting him stretch and relax before getting up and practically jumping him.

“You’re awesome,” she murmured, bringing him down for a passionate kiss. He moaned in surprise, brows rising before he relaxed into the rapturous kiss. Her nimble fingers worked on quickly unbuttoning his shirt, moving forward with him so he got closer to the bed.

She pulled away, tongue sliding along her wet lip to watch him sit down and work on getting the belt off. She climbed into his lap, nibbling on his jaw, moving his hands away to finish unbuckling his belt herself, rolling her hips against his throbbing erection before he could get his hands on her.

“Fuck, babe,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around her so tight she couldn’t even move. “Lets play a game,” he suggested suddenly, releasing her when she pulled back and tilted her head at him, perplexed. “First one to make a noise loses.”

“Loses?”

“The right to cum,” he added.

“When you’re this hard?” She asked, making her point by grinding her hips roughly against his. He groaned out a laugh, deep and hot.

“I’m not the one who’s ovulating,” he pointed out matter-of-factly. She gasped dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest. He held her hips securely to keep her balanced on his lap as she bantered with him, a grin on his face.

“Rude,” she accused playfully, “how dare you use that against me?” She giggled, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down and over to the side so he laid on top of her. He let her manoeuvre him and chuckled. “You’re gonna keep this on, right?” She asked, lightly flicking the beige hat on his head so it moved slightly, but didn’t come off.

“If you really want me to.” He kissed her cheek tenderly.

“I dunno,” she pondered, “I kinda like you naked, too.”

“Kinda?” He pouted, biting her jaw.

She took the hat on his head and threw it over to her chair, “I really like it when you’re naked, too,” she corrected herself with a loving smile, eyes sparkling.

“I like it when you’re naked,” he murmured, rocking his hips against hers. She bit her lip hard, trapping a gasp. “We were right about here earlier, weren’t we?” He asked seductively, dropping a quick kiss on her lips.

The smirk stretching across his face gave away that he knew what he was doing to her. She only nodded in response, focusing on shoving the suit jacket and white dress shirt over his shoulders at the same time. He chuckled at her urgency, standing on his knees between her parted legs to shrug them off calmly.

She narrowed her eyes at him, shimmying down to begin unbuttoning his pants, zipping them down with one hand and pulling the belt out of the loops with the other before he even got the either article off his arms.

“Baby,” he laughed, grabbing her thighs and pulling them above his, “slow down.”

She frowned playfully, “I don’t wanna slow down.” She put her hands on his hips and under his shirt, thumbs tantalisingly brushing against the warm skin of his hip bones.

“Oh, so, now you want me really bad,” he teased, voice heavy with lust. He leaned back slightly to take her in with her legs spread open over his thighs, soft hair haloing her head, a blush glowing across her cheeks. As he admired her silently, she bit her lip at the way his t-shirt stretched across his chest and broad shoulders.

“I always want you really bad,” she rebutted lustfully, slowly lifting the white t-shirt up his torso.

“Don’t worry, beautiful, Imma fill you up real good,” he promised in a hushed voice, pulling the shirt over his head, then getting off the bed to pull his slacks and boxer briefs down his legs. “Don’t forget… you can’t make a sound,” he reminded her, crawling back up her body.

“As long as you play fair….” She murmured, bringing him down for a kiss with a hand behind his head. Fingers threaded through his hair and he laughed deeply, dipping down to kiss her.

“I never play fair,” he mumbled against her mouth.

Before she could react, he bit her lip and shoved his tongue into her mouth, licking and sucking fervently, hoping to draw sounds from her that would make her lose the game he proposed before he even got started.

She squirmed underneath him, a whimper of pleasure bubbling up her throat, but poking his ribs made him pull away from her swiftly, “asshole!”

He laughed breathlessly, leaning on his side, still laying between her legs with his cock leaking and hard against her tummy. He held himself up with his arm resting beside her head and brought his freehand to her face, brushing soft strands away from her grumpy face.

“I had to try,” he chuckled, tracing the side of her face.

“I should.. just… get up and walk away,” she threatened playfully, putting a finger on his lips when he tried to dip down to kiss her again.

“Hey, come on, babe,” he whined.

She laughed at him, “just fuck me, pretty boy.”

He pretended to consider her words, slowly sliding the two fingers on her jaw down to her neck, between her breasts, and along her stomach. Her heart jumped and she clenched her jaw while she watched his eyes follow the path of his fingers moving over her body. “I can do that,” he smirked, captivating her in his alluring gaze.

She grabbed his chin, angling his face towards the light of the lamp, her eyes soft and tracing over the beautiful features of his face, from the gorgeous curl of his golden eyelashes, to the now-pink background where his freckles were splattered along artfully across his nose and cheeks, to the edges of his utterly breathtaking face. His brows pinched together curiously and his swollen, soft, pink lips parted momentarily before closing, his green eyes shyly shifting away from her face.

“Not like this, though,” he murmured, breaking her trance. She hummed mindlessly, eyes flickering up to his, his words confounding her.

He looked at her again and then grinned mischievously, standing up just to manhandle her until she was laying on her stomach. She laughed and squirmed, looking at him from over her shoulder, but just as she was about to get on all fours, he pressed his large hand to the small of back, keeping her in place.

“Wait,” she said quickly, eyes widening in realisation when he started to angle himself between her legs. “No! You cheater,” she laughed. He snickered playfully, gripping her thigh and sliding it up to the side with her knee bent to have more access.

“I aim to please,” he jested, taking his cock and teasing her dripping entrance with the soft head.

“Yeah, yourself,” she quipped. He snorted, observing the smear of his precum over her clit and inner labia. She didn’t move away or stop him, so he continued to tease her, sliding his cock down to tap her throbbing clit, but she bit down on her lip painfully, sounds straining to escape her throat.

She screwed her eyes shut as if it would help her concentrate on anything other than the way he teased her and gripped the sheets beneath her hands tightly. After gathering enough of her slick, he started to jerk himself off, coating his throbbing cock—and subsequently his hand—in her arousal.

He panted heavily and draped himself over her back, depositing loving kisses along her shoulders and neck. Still, nothing could prepare her for the way he thrusted into her. She was so wet, he didn’t even meet any resistance, and he could feel every inch of his cock stroke along the inside of her tightening walls, deeply penetrating her.

“Jesus Christ,” she moaned involuntarily.

“Uh, no, it’s Dean, actually,” he chuckled, then slowly started to pull out of her, and paused. “By the way, I, uhhh, think you just lost.” He thrusted back into her roughly and she moaned again, cutting off her sentence before it even began, but he knew it was probably gonna be ‘fuck you’ or something else along those lines.

He muffled a deep groan against her shoulder and roughly grabbed her hip to keep her still as she squirmed and whined for more. Blunt nails dug into her flesh and she whimpered with each thrust, toes curling every time the soft head of his cock brushed and pressed against her cervix.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, nuzzling his face into her neck. Her stomach clenched at his words, his low groan causing a flutter to grow in her lower abdomen, all the while her heart skipped a beat and her breath swirled around her chest ecstatically when his lips brushed softly against her pulse.

“Please,” she whimpered, reaching down to place her hand over the one he had on her hip, holding on tightly. He angled her hips up slightly, picking up the pace, his teeth sinking roughly into the skin between her shoulder and neck.

He grunted softly, skilfully pulling out so only the head of his cock remained inside her and pushing back into her swiftly, over and over. He fucked into her with enough force to knock the wooden headboard into the concrete walls, hard enough to create an erotic symphony with the sound of her soppy pussy taking him and her skin being impacted by his.

His throbbing cock brushed continuously along the inside of her walls and collided deliciously with her cervix, pulling quiet gasps and low moans from her. Neither of them could stand it. The way she felt wrapped around every inch of him made him so dizzy, he felt like exploding. His muscles ached and burned with effort and he couldn’t stop vocalising his pleasure right into her ear or against her damp skin.

He could feel his orgasm bubbling over and he inhaled sharply to keep it at bay just to keep enjoying the sensation of her body being this close to his, to remain in between the moment of overwhelming pleasure and exquisite torture forever.

Still, he couldn’t resist the temptation of letting go and spilled into her with a long groan of her name. He deliriously praised and worshipped her as he pressed deeper, the warmth of his semen filling her insides.

Her walls clamped down on him, her own orgasm looming over her, but even this mindlessly blissed out, she denied herself pleasure for the sake of their game. The heat of his cum resting inside her made her moan, a sensation she began to enjoy since they became ‘serious’.

He had stilled temporarily, waiting to empty himself into her as profoundly as their bodies permitted before slowly rocking his hips into her again. Once again, he venerated her quietly before pulling out and collapsing breathlessly beside her, his rapidly beating heart returning to its original rhythm.

He gave her ass a playful smack and smiled lazily when she giggled. “You didn’t come,” he murmured, watching dreamily as she turned to face him, and scooted into his side to drop kisses along his collarbone.

“I lost the right to,” she chuckled, her lips brushing against his neck to suck a mark on his pulse point.

He moaned softly, snaking his arms under her waist, wrapping around to hold her closer. She lifted her thigh over his hip, pressing herself against him completely, ignoring the warmth of his cum as it dripped out of her. She kissed across his jawline, nibbling gently, and finally claimed his soft lips.

“I can’t get enough of you,” she murmured, straddling him. She pressed her chest against his and his hands held onto the sides of her knees fleetingly, then slowly slid upwards. His fingers pressed into her flesh, blunt nails scraping along her silky skin. He squeezed her hips and moved his lips against hers, tongues meeting languidly past parted lips, licking and tasting.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re ovulating,” he mumbled against her mouth, his hands smoothing up her back to pull her closer. “You usually can’t stand me,” he teased between kisses, chasing her mouth when she pulled back with a playful frown.

“Right,” she started, a laugh bubbling up her throat. “Between.. loving you more insanely and profoundly than literally anyone else in the entire multiverse… and the possibility of a time ever coming in which I’d destroy every universe for you… where’d me ‘not being able to stand’ you come from?” His eyes flickered across her face, the furrow of her brows, the frown that tugged at her lips.

He enjoyed the weight of her loaded words, the unspoken words and meaningfulness in between the long stretch of silence between them. More than anything, Dean wanted to establish that she meant every word, but his tongue lay heavy in his mouth and his heart palpitated with a resurgence of desire. She waited for him as a million words hung in the air, but Dean remained speechless, elated—even aroused by her explicit and very intense expression.

She closed her eyes when he reached up to play with her hair. “You’re so selfish,” he murmured, pulling her down for a passionate kiss, cupping the back of her head in his large hand. The other hand snuck between their bodies, parting her from him just to reach between her thighs where she was drenched and needy.

Mercilessly, he plunged his fingers into her, moaning loudly as his digits brutally slid in and out of her. His palm slapped against her swollen clit and she cried out against his mouth, burying her face next to his to muffle her moans.

He tugged her hair roughly, forcing her back up and stared rapaciously at her face with parted lips, his cum pooling in his hand and down his knuckles. She fucked herself eagerly on his fingers, brows furrowing in gratification, her nails nearly cutting into the skin of his bicep.

“So fucking greedy for me. Aren’t you, baby?” He asked breathlessly, his gaze moving down between their bodies as she sank down onto his fingers.

“Yes! Fuck,” she shouted resolutely. Her pussy clamped down around his fingers, signalling the proximity of her release, she wanted to collapse on him, weak. His green eyes flickered back up to look deeply into her own eyes.

“Come for me,” he ordered softly, grinding his palm against her clit. “Come on, beautiful… I fucking love you.”

She cried out his name, squirting around his adept fingers. He let her bury her face in his neck this time, astonished and smug as he fingered her through a clearly intense orgasm. He turned slightly to kiss her temple and her head, his fingers gently massaging her scalp while she attempted to calm her stuttering breaths and wild heart.

He removed his fingers from inside her, and grinned at the ceiling, “I love when that happens.”

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