#jays3kcelebration

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Run To You ~ Chapter Eleven

Chapter Summary: Lack of sleep, shared insecurities, and emotions in overdrive lead to words and actions that can’t be taken back. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Kasey Belmont (OFC)

Warnings: Language-Kasey’s potty mouth makes a vehement appearance(seriously!); Here, there be smut; Angst; Feeeellings; Verbal argument; A little fluff for fun

Rating: Mature 18+ NSFW

Word Count: 13,457

Betas: @princessmisery666 and @wayward-and-worn

Movie Reference/Quote: Gone With the Wind

Author’s Notes: This is an AU. While there are several SPN characters mentioned, basically no one has the same connections as they did in the show, and Dean and Sam are not related.

Series Master Post

Written for: @jay-and-dean -Jay’s 3K Celebration and @spnaubingo. Prompt used: Quote with 3 ~ “I have nothing to offer, 3 dollars and a bad bottle of whiskey, nothing more.”

SPNAUBingo Square Filled: Fugitive AU

SPNQUOTEBingo Square Filled: “You should be kissed—and often—and by someone who knows how.” - Gone with the Wind

**ETA - Updated title card and format 3/14/23**

“Hey, sweetheart, did you miss me?”—the words of endearment Dean had spoken swirl almost reverently around Kasey’s mind as they both pant for breath, and though he was talking to Baby, she wants to answer.

Yes. Yes, I did miss you.

Which is certifiably crazy. How can she miss something she never had? 

She says his name softly, pulling away, but he holds her hands against his chest. Eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t. Please don’t say that we shouldn’t or that it’s… a mistake.”

We shouldn’t? No. We most assuredly shouldn’t. But a mistake? 

Kasey can’t imagine one circumstance where she would ever consider that kiss a mistake. However, there’s too much at stake to start an entanglement they may not be able to pursue. She knows that kiss was mainly brought on by the surge of emotions from the last few days and seeing his beloved car again. 

Dean releases her hands when she flexes her fingers, and she gently slips her arms around his waist, laying her head on his chest. The strong beat of his heart resonates in her ear like a lullaby. If she weren’t so conflicted, she’d remain in his arms and let it quell the burgeoning turmoil inside her, but she needs time to think, weigh the pros and cons, sort through the emotions, and make a level-headed decision.

Spying their reflection in the polished metal of the car, her heart jolts. To an outsider, they would look like a couple entwined in a lovers’ embrace. Pulling away before he can tighten his hold, she whispers, “I’m glad you found her.” His wistful expression prompts her to cup his cheek, and he closes his eyes, leaning into her touch. Her bottom lip quivers with an unexpected rush of emotion, and she drops her hand, clearing her throat as she turns. “Make sure to lock up,” she blurts before walking away.

Once at the porch, she hesitates on the top tread, debating the direction of her next step. It would be so easy to let the remaining threads of logic and common sense drift away on the breeze, race back out there, and throw herself at him.

Lips pressed together to contain the sob rising in her throat, a forced footfall followed by another carries her toward the small lantern. Extinguishing the flame, she grabs the quilt and heads inside, not daring to look over her shoulder. 

Until that kiss, she’d been trying to tamp the feelings back down, re-bury them under the guise of helping someone in need. She could tell herself that what she was feeling was simply a thrilling titillation, something she’d feel seeing a handsome actor or a sexy model, nothing more. Now that she knows what he tastes like, what his lips feel like, it’s not so easy to deny.

She makes it to her bedroom, locking the door behind her before losing control. Dean’s lips had unleashed a hurricane of restrained emotions. Like a levee breaking, guilt, anger, fear, shame, loneliness, and heartbreak surge upward, and the tears rain down. Kasey slumps to the floor, back pressed against the footboard of her bed. Pulling them up close to her chest, she wraps her arms tightly around her legs and rests her forehead on her knees, rocking in place, trying to dispel the ache she already feels at not holding him. 

How did all this happen? One day, she’s blissfully enjoying a lazy afternoon of peaceful seclusion. Two days later, that carefully crafted isolation was shattered with the force of a crowbar smashing a car window. Dean’s touch made her realize how starved for human interaction she truly is, making her feel a desire only depicted in movies and cheesy romance novels.

The pressure of his lips lingers on hers, and her tongue slides over them, tasting the remnants of toasted oak and caramel from the bourbon they’d been drinking earlier. Heat surges through her veins, remembering how rough-skinned hands that nearly encompassed her head tenderly cradled her face while his beard deliciously chafed at her soft flesh. Her breath hitches, reliving the warmth of his skin beneath her fingers, the smooth silkiness of his hair. Goosebumps dance across her skin as she recalls the shiver of his body when her nails scraped across his neck, pulse rapid and strong beneath her thumb. The thud of his heart beating with hers echoes in her ears, sending her pulse racing. If she’d remained pressed against him for two more seconds, she would have been trapped in his embrace—protected, content, and, as insane as it sounded, loved.

Christ fuck! I am a sensible grown-ass woman, not some starry-eyed Disney princess. This, whatever this is, is not love!

The sting accompanying the hard slap of her palms against the solid floor is a welcome jolt back to reality. Angrily pushing herself up, Kasey begins pacing the room. Dean’s presence has shown how utterly foolish she’s been, unarguably naive, lying to herself that she could make it alone. That somehow, she would be perfectly happy living as a recluse. She had made the choice under duress, a spur-of-the-moment decision. The farm had been a safe haven, a place to escape the cruelties of the world and the mistakes of the past, but, as the saying goes, all actions have consequences. Hers had come barreling at her in the form of a tough-skinned, soft-hearted fugitive.

Kasey leans against her window frame, staring out at the night sky. She can’t see the barn’s door from this angle, but the warm glow of the light still shines over the yard. Her lips curl upward as she pictures him sweet-talking his car. His face had lit up like a 5-year-old given free rein in a toy store. Just as she wonders if he’s thought about climbing into his Baby and just taking off, the rev of the engine can be heard. Momentary panic rocks her back on her heels, fingers twisting into the curtains, but the thought disappears as quickly as it came. 

She wouldn’t have left the keys with him if she genuinely thought he would leave—disappear from her life as hastily as he’d materialized in it. Where would he go? The farm is one of the safest places for him to be at the moment, and she’s pretty sure he knows it too.

Besides, if his plea about that kiss is any indication, Dean is wrestling with similar questions regarding their predicament. Well, a predicament for her anyway. After all, sleeping with a client is generally frowned upon in the legal community—conflict of interest and that whole ethics thing. 

It feels like an eternity before the night falls silent again, and moments later, the view outside her window darkens as the light in the yard disappears. Several minutes pass before she hears him moving about in the room below her, and she lets the final bit of fear fade away. Tightening her grip on the curtain, she wills herself to stay put, to not run to him, the consequences be damned.

With a heavy eye roll, Kasey goes back to pacing. She needs to be rational here. She’s already walking a thin line by harboring him. Sex would throw a wrench the size of Thor’s ax into an already complicated situation. But, damn, she desperately wants to feel his solidness against her again, feel those hands caress her bare skin.

Kasey’s fingers trace a path down her neck and across her decolletage, drifting down her body. “Hoooo.” The sigh is long and drawn out as she closes her eyes, envisioning Dean’s hands and thick fingers ghosting over skin that he has yet to see or feel.

Stop it!

Throwing herself onto her bed, she rolls to her back and stares at the ceiling, fingers clenched in the sheets as she desperately tries to banish the images now racing through her mind. 

Affidavits. Burden of proof. Conviction. Depositions. Evidence…

An hour later, she has filtered through an extensive list of legal terms multiple times, trying to squelch the wayward thoughts of what she wants to do to Dean and have him do to her. However, sleep eludes her, and she still hasn’t come to a decision about whether to remain a legal advisor for him or give in to her desires. 

At one point, she’d heard the water pipes rattle, signaling that Dean was taking a shower, which had triggered another round of images that she’d had to quash without much success. Rolling to her side again, she punches her pillow and sits up in a huff.

Sam is going to be furious with her no matter what she decides. She can’t keep her feelings for Dean hidden from him. Sam and Charlie can handle the case without her, but she wants, no, needs to be a part of the process to help secure Dean’s freedom.

Adult enough to admit that she has selfish reasons for getting the charges against him reversed, she prays that Sam won’t follow through on his threat of pulling the plug if it all starts going sideways. She shoves the dread of making that phone call to the back of her mind. Right now, she needs to do something, anything to distract her over-stimulated brain. 

The sky is still dark, the predawn light a couple of hours away, but the rising humidity can already be felt. Kasey takes a leisurely shower, puts her hair up in a loose ponytail, then fishes out one of her mother’s old halter-style dresses from the closet. The less material against her skin during the day’s sticky heat, the better. Once dressed, she quietly makes her way down to the kitchen, starting the first of many rounds of coffee.

Dean tried to sleep. He honestly did, he may have dozed off for an hour or two, but it was fitful. Rubbing the backs of his hands over his eyes, he chuckles. The absurdity that he’s gotten less sleep in this big comfortable bed than he did sleeping on cold hard surfaces the last couple of weeks is not lost on him. Turning his head to the side, the small clock in his room reads a little after six in the morning.

He couldn’t get that kiss or the hug she’d given him afterward out of his mind. When she'd placed her hand on his cheek, a flood of unexplainable emotion surged through him, and he’d had to close his eyes to try and keep himself in check. The loss of her touch had left him feeling bereft, and he’d almost run after her—torn between the desire to see where another kiss might lead and knowing he’s not the type of man Kasey needs. He’s not an idiot, he knows there’s an attraction between them, but it’s clearly just sexual tension, lust, nothing more, so best to leave it alone. 

Each time they open up to one another and share a little more of themselves, there’s an immediate hesitancy, a guarded cautiousness, from her afterward. He gets it; he does. They’re strangers. He’s a convicted felon, a man most people would fear. She’s a woman that’s been pitted against men for the majority of her life and has been hurt to such a degree that she shut herself away. 

Concerned that he had screwed things up with that impromptu kiss, he’d contemplated going after her to make sure things were okay between them, but he also wanted to respect her feelings and apparent need for space. In the end, he’d decided to stay with Baby; she was a known entity. There was no need to fear rejection from her or worry that he would somehow ruin everything good about her, unlike with Kasey.

He’d honestly been surprised that Kasey had left the keys with him and briefly wondered if she had simply forgotten about them. He had a fleeting thought about taking off, not to run away—where would he go anyway? He feels safer here than he has anywhere else in a long time. He doesn’t want to leave the farm… or Kasey. He just wanted to hear the purr of Baby’s engine and feel the thrum of the open road beneath her tires.

As much as he had been jonesing to take the Impala for a drive, he settled for checking her over, ensuring that all her fluid levels were where they should be, that the tire pressure was good, and that there wasn’t any damage on her beautiful body. With everything meeting his satisfaction, he’d started her up, letting the sound and vibrations of the rumbling engine wash over him for a few precious moments while losing himself in memories of more carefree days. 

He’d stood at the bottom of the stairs for several minutes, hand on the railing and one foot resting on the bottom tread, when he came back in, contemplating, debating, churning scenarios over in his mind. Ultimately deciding it was best to let things be until the morning, he made his way to the bedroom. After spotting the streak of grease on his forehead in the dresser’s mirror, he decided to take a shower before crawling into bed. Even though he knew the likelihood of getting any sleep would probably prove futile.

Sitting up, he buries his head in his hands, clearing his mind, listening for any movement from the room above him, but no sound is forthcoming. Well, at least one of them is able to sleep.

The air in the room is thick, heavy with heat already—the fan Kasey had given him, not yielding much relief. He looks over at the plastic-covered window, wishing he could open it to let in some fresh air. Deciding that he will offer to finish painting the room for her, maybe do some other repairs around the place as a form of payment for helping him, he slips from the bed. 

Opting out of wearing a shirt, he pulls on the pajama bottoms he'd discarded on the end of the mattress. Now that the sun is up, it will get even hotter, and it’s not like she hadn’t seen him shirtless before when she’d stitched him up. Of which she’d done an excellent job.

The skin around the wound is a healthy pink and no longer leaking blood now that it’s properly sealed. Although still tender to the touch, a sharp twinge reminding him of the injury if he turns the wrong way, it is no longer a throbbing, angry red, and thankfully, not infected. He hadn’t had time to stitch the wound before almost getting caught at the clinic he’d broken into and had tried to at least keep it clean and minimize the bleeding.

He’s grateful that Kasey was able to take care of it and that he won’t have a gaping scar. Yeah, he definitely needs to do something to show her his appreciation for saving him. That is, if she doesn’t kick him out after last night.

Opening the bedroom door, his senses are engulfed by the combined scent of coffee, bacon, and something cinnamony sweet. Quickening his pace, he is entirely taken off guard by the sight that greets him as he enters the kitchen. Every inch of counter space is covered in a myriad of ingredients, pans, mixing bowls, baking dishes, and what appears to be a mound of dough. Kasey is nowhere in sight, though. The house is silent except for the whir of the ceiling fan above the table.

His eyes land on the coffee press sitting on the far counter, and he makes his way over to pour a cup of the divine nectar. After the first couple of reviving sips, he roams around the space, peering into bowls and lifting the lids of the pots on the stove, trying to discern what she’s making. From the looks of things, she’s been at it for quite a while, meaning she hadn’t slept much either.

Lifting a corner of a towel draped over a bowl, he immediately drops it back in place, startled by her growl. 

“Don’t touch anything.”

Lost in thought about whether they would have slept better if they were in the same bed, he hadn’t heard her come in. “Sorry.” He smiles and raises a hand in mock surrender while taking a step back from the counter, but she isn’t looking at him. Kasey makes her way over to the stove, setting the basket she collected eggs in on the counter next to it.

The dress she’s wearing reminds him of another era, and if he didn’t know better, this would be the second time he would have thought he’d been zapped into some Twilight Zone time warp. The bright turquoise and green print is a stark contrast to the worn, dust-covered boots she just kicked off.

“Hope you like Eggs Benedict,” she says, still not looking at him. “It’ll be ready in about fifteen. I had to go out and get some more eggs.” 

He stares at the sun-kissed skin of her back, imagining the arch and twist of her body, the softness of her flesh beneath his fingertips as he trails them down her spine. He huffs out a breath, expelling the images along with it. He’s caught between the need to say something and waiting for a cue from her. Her tone, while not mean, is definitely on the cool side. 

Son of a bitch! I knew I fucked it up.

“Uhm, can I help?” If she hears the desperation laced in his words, he doesn’t care. He’d do almost anything to get back to the comfortable camaraderie of last night… before the kiss. 

Throwing a glance over her left shoulder, she replies, “You could make more coffee.”

“Awesome.” He nods happily and rubs his hands together, pleased she didn’t shut him out. At least not entirely. Dean sets about emptying and cleaning the press as Kasey gently whisks the hollandaise, moving it to the back burner. By the time she’s done poaching the eggs, the new batch of coffee is ready, and Dean mentally high-fives himself for getting the timing right. 

Seeing Kasey’s mug sitting amongst the array of dishes on the island, he quickly rinses it out and makes her a fresh cup, carefully adding the same ratio of cream to coffee she’d taken yesterday. Humming the Eagles tune that’s been stuck in his head since that first day he woke up in her home, he places her cup and the press on the table, then rocks on his heels, waiting for her to join him.

Dean sips his coffee, silently watching as she removes a tray of Canadian Bacon and English muffins from one of the ovens and assembles all of the food on a large cloth-covered tray along with a single plate and set of silverware.

“Take a seat.” She glances up as she nears the table but quickly looks away, waving a hand over the tray she just set down. “There’s plenty, so eat up.” 

Not waiting for a response, she picks up her coffee cup, “thanks for this,” and turns on her heel, heading for the second stove. After a quick sip, she sets her cup on the island counter, cracks the oven door, and peeks inside. Slipping on an oven mitt, she reaches in, and Dean’s jaw nearly comes unhinged when she pulls out a pie heaping with apple filling. Placing it on a cooling rack, she then pulls out a cake pan. She heads back to the table, grabbing a small metal bowl and butter knife on the way. Sliding her hand out of the oven mitt, she leaves it beneath the hot pan of what he can now see is full of cinnamon rolls and sets the bowl of frosting next to it along with the knife.

Dean closes his eyes and inhales deeply. “Those smell amazing. Did you make them from scratch?”

“Yes,” is her quick, concise reply. It sounds muffled, and Dean opens his eyes to find that she’s already walked away, and he’s again left staring at her back as she enters the pantry. 

Seconds later, she returns with two small jars of what appear to be spices in hand. She lightly drops them on the island and reaches for the rolling pin. 

“Kasey.”

“Hmmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Baking”

“I can see that,” he chuckles. “Uh, I know I’m a big guy and all,” hearing the self-assurance in his tone, she doesn’t dare to look in his direction for fear of being knocked on her ass by the blue-steel swagger that’s most likely plastered on his face, “but there’s a ton of food here. Are you going to sit down and eat with me?”

“I need to finish this.” The heel of her palm lands heavily on the dough round, denting one side. She quickly turns it and slams her palm into it again.

Dean takes a sip of coffee and hums with pleasure. Hoping to prevent the tense silence from encroaching on them again, he says, “I don’t know about you, but I barely slept last night.”

Kasey whirls around, bits of dough skittering to her feet, brandishing the rolling pin before pointing it at him. “DOES THIS KITCHEN LOOK LIKE IT’S BEING MANNED BY SOMEONE THAT IS WELL-RESTED?!”

Wide-eyed and slightly disconcerted, he mumbles into his coffee cup, “Okaaay. Just tryin’ to make conversation here.” He hesitates momentarily before pressing, “We need to talk.”

Ignoring his comment, she grips the rolling pin with both hands and forces it down into the semi-flattened dough, then flicks some flour over the surface before picking up and turning it. The small, thick disc hits the surface with a loud slap, followed by the thud of the wooden pin as she aggressively thins what he assumes is a second pie crust. Between each slap and thud, she huffs out a breath.

Dean takes a bite of the eggs benedict and grunts in approval. Pulling a cinnamon roll from the pan, he immediately drops the hot bun on his plate, shaking his singed fingers in the air. After slathering the roll in frosting, he sinks his teeth into the warm, fluffy dough and takes a large chunk out of the confection. The spicy-sweet concoction literally melts in his mouth, and he can’t hold back the moan of satisfaction. The thunk of the rolling pin is loud, echoing around the kitchen. Sneaking a glance at her, he frowns, watching her take out whatever emotions she’s working through on the innocent pastry.

When the dough is the size of a large pizza crust, he taunts, “If you were making another pie crust, it’s going to be tough as hell now.”

Kasey stops the forward roll of the pin and looks down, seemingly in shock at seeing the almost paper-thin sheet of dough. “Son of a bitch.” Grabbing a spatula, she scrapes the mess into a small pile near the corner of the countertop.

She still has yet to make any meaningful eye contact with him or say anything other than clipped comments. Worried and frustrated, he blurts out, “Are we going to talk about it, or are you going to continue trying to ignore me?”

“Dean.” She tucks her chin, placing her hands flat on the counter as she leans forward. “We’ve only known each other for a little over two days-“

“Almost three,” he interjects, glad she didn’t try and pretend she doesn’t know what he’s talking about.

Paying no heed to the comment, she shoves off the counter and turns away. “I’m your legal advisor.”

Well, damn, got stiff-armed with that one. It’s all good; I get it. At least she’s still willing to help. She’s settin’ boundaries, and obviously, one of us needs to. Wish I was inside those boundaries, though. Deep inside. I mean, look at those legs, that ass, and those hands. Would love to have those hands… oh, for fuck’s sake.

I’ve already screwed this up enough. I need to keep this professional. Stow the personal crap. Bury it like always. Besides, someone like her deserves so much more than I have to offer, which is nothing but a broken heart and a screwed-up life. It doesn’t matter that it feels like we’re perfect for each other. She deserves someone better—better than me.

She opens a cupboard next to the stove and reaches for a dish on the top shelf. Pressing up on her toes, it looks like she’s about to grasp the base but only succeeds in pushing the glassware further back into the cabinet.

When it looks like she’s going to try climbing up on the counter, he shakes his head at her stubbornness. Reticently pushing away from the table, he makes his way over to her. “Here, let me.” Reaching over her head, he draws out the dish, setting it on the counter in front of her. A rush of dopamine sends his pulse skittering when she rocks back into him, making him realize that ‘stowing his personal crap’ will be much more challenging than he imagined.

Entering the house, Kasey nearly drops the basket of eggs she’s carrying upon seeing a bare-chested Dean standing in her kitchen. He’s about to peer into one of the dough-filled covered bowls, tongue peeking out between his lips like a kid getting ready to steal a cookie from the cookie jar. Except he’s not a kid. He’s an Adonis. DaVinci’s divine proportions incarnate. The backdrop of faded wallpaper on her kitchen walls appears even bleaker compared to his stunning vibrance. 

She takes a step forward, drawn to him like a tide in the moon’s pull. The rush of blood redistributing itself in her body makes her light-headed, and she presses a hand against the wall to steady herself. In a matter of seconds, she shifts her distress into disgruntlement, annoyed that he has such an immediate effect on her. Kicking off her boots, she growls, “Don’t touch anything.” 

How the hell is she supposed to remain professional and rational with him walking around practically naked? To protect her sanity, she decides to avoid looking at him and makes a beeline for the stove to finish preparing breakfast.

Dean tries to engage with her, offering to help. In contrast, she tries to remain unaffected by his presence, offering clipped responses while still trying to sound friendly as she finishes preparing breakfast. Once he’s settled at the table, she returns to her baking tasks, wanting to make one more pie before cleaning up the mess she created.

Baking has always been a soothing pastime, and after her little outburst when he mentioned his lack of sleep, she distinctly needs some soothing. Some of her favorite childhood memories revolve around helping her grandmother bake the multitude of sweet treats they supplied for the harvest festival held at the farm every year. 

While reliving memories of her past in an attempt to ignore her indecent thoughts of the man currently making obscene noises while eating her food, she loses focus on the tender dough in front of her. That is until the molasses laced gravel of his voice cuts into her thoughts, and she finds a thin sheet of dough worthy of a strudel layer beneath the wooden pin. Frustrated, she scrapes it all into the garbage.

He had asked her about the kiss without asking her about the kiss. She’s not ready to talk about it, though. 

Is it too early in the day for whiskey?

Yeah, it probably is, and she feels like she’ll need some whiskey before talking about it, and they do need to talk. A decision needs to be made about whether to push the feelings aside and get on with business or get on with business. 

Ugh. I am so not funny.

Deciding that it’s too early to deal with it, she reminds him that she’s part of his defense team and turns away. Looking for another excuse to continue avoiding him, she decides to pull out her grandmother’s favorite glass-topped cake stand to store the pie on.

Seriously. What the hell does he think he’s doing, walking around looking like that?

Kasey pushes up on her toes to try and reach the dish but only succeeds in pushing it further out of reach. Debating whether to get the step stool or climb onto the counter, she feels the air shift when he steps up behind her.

“Here, let me.” Dean effortlessly reaches above her head to grab the serving dish from the shelf. 

Her entire body feels like it’s been set ablaze. Muscles stretch and harden beneath the slide of his bare skin against hers. He places the dish on the counter, and Kasey sighs, flesh skimming over flesh as she flattens her feet back onto the floor. His sharp intake of breath pushes his chest closer to her.

The small scrap of objective reasoning she has left causes her to tense. When he doesn’t move away, she relaxes into him. The solid strength of him pressed against her is ecstasy and torture at the same time. 

She’s been starving, depriving herself, and the hunger for human touch is no longer bearable. A moment of tense silence stretches between them, and then Dean whispers, “May I?”

Kasey knows that his touch could break her, that she probably won’t be able to come back from it, but right now, at that moment, she doesn’t care. She’s tried to take a logical approach and argue her feelings away, but it’s no use. It’s more than just the feeling of a warm body or needing that quick high of pleasure. She can’t suppress the way every molecule in her body reacts to him any more than she can stop the sun rising and replies with a breathy, “Yes.”

A hand smooths over her abdomen, pulling her flush to his body. He lifts a stray lock of hair from her shoulder and presses it against his nose, “you smell like ginger and honey,” before tucking it behind her ear. A tilt of his head and his tongue traces the shell of her ear, warm breath skimming over her cheek. Deft fingers chart a path through the dip in her clavicle, “your skin’s so soft,” then glide down her arm to intertwine with hers. Lifting their clasped hands, he kisses the tips of her fingers, “delicate fingers,” her palm, “strong hands,” then her wrist, “you taste like crisp green apples,” soft lips lingering on her pulse. 

She closes her eyes and lets her head fall back against his shoulder. He’s trimmed his beard even closer, and the scruff scrapes deliciously against her skin as he lowers their hands, placing a kiss on her temple. She can feel the rapid bassline harmony of his heart, and her pulse picks up the melody, creating a rhythm that will forever be tattooed on her soul. 

Like a lit fuse, quick, fervid kisses down the side of her face and across her collarbone leave a trail of smoldering heat. Slapping her palm over the hand on her stomach, she slips her fingers between his, bringing it up to cup her breast, and murmurs, “Fuck, that feels-”

A burst of heat burns the words away and threatens to send her to her knees when sharp teeth graze the curve of her shoulder and deft fingers knead her flesh through the fabric. Never in her life has she been so turned on by a few kisses and a simple touch. 

Silken strands tickle her fingers as she snags a fistful of hair, tugging his head down. The pressure of his grip tightens, bordering on pain. Her body bows, forcing her breast further into his grasp and her ass against the hard line of him. Her whine meets his growl, captured between the crush of their lips.

She cranes her neck, fingers still clutching the handful of his hair, body squirming, trying to get a better angle and prolong the kiss. Cool fingers brush along her side, sending ripples of pleasure through her. When they slip beneath the material of her dress to pinch her other nipple, the sensation makes her jolt, a tiny squeak sounding in her throat.

Dean immediately releases her and steps away, leaving her gripping the counter to keep from falling. “I’m sorry.” His voice is low and gruff, filled with regret.

“You-” Struggling to catch her breath, she waves a hand behind her in an attempt to assure him it’s alright, “no-” Kasey brings her hand back to fan herself as she turns and leans her ass against the counter, smile fading as soon as she sees him.

He’s further away than expected, leaning on a fisted hand on the corner of the island, the other rubbing along the side of his thigh, a poker face etched on his features. She tries to catch his eye, but he looks over her shoulder. “I was out of line. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”

“Hmmm.” She nods, turning to pull a glass from the open shelf. Filling it with water, she faces Dean again, sizing him up over the rim as she slowly quenches her parched throat with the cooling liquid. “Do you want it to?” Her eyes never leave him as she places the empty glass on the counter behind her.

“It doesn’t matter what I want.”

Pursing her lips, she bobs her head. “Huh.” Kasey tugs at the straps of her dress, putting the material back in place. Dean’s eyes flick down, watching as she smooths the fabric over the front of her body, quickly looking away when she arches a brow. “Well, do you think I don’t want it?” She walks her fingers along the countertop and takes a couple of steps toward him. “Because, if that’s what you think, then maybe you’re not as good at this as I imagined you to be.” 

“Y-You imagined this?” His eyes snap to hers, brows shooting up, and the pink tip of his tantalizing tongue presses against the backs of his teeth.

“Uh, huh,” she murmurs, tilting her head and smiling, stopping about a foot from him, flattening her hand on the counter. “I imagined it all night. And this morning. Hell, I can’t NOT imagine it.”

Fingers tapping against his thigh, Dean’s eyes narrow; a few tension-filled moments pass, then he clears his throat. “Listen, Kase,” her mouth quirks at the shortening of her name. She likes the sound of it, though, and remains silent as he continues. “I know I asked you not to say that the kiss last night was a mistake, but maybe it was. I mean, I don’t think it was… but maybe… under the circumstances… it was. It’s like you said, you're part of my legal team. You’ve already put yourself at risk by letting me stay here and helping me. You’re an amazing woman. Smart… so smart… it’s fucking hot how intelligent you are. Funny… kind… beautiful… inside and out… seriously. Sexy… fuck… I mean, look at you.” He waves his hand, indicating her entire body. “Uh… sorry.” 

He drags a hand over his face. “I have nothing to offer you, well, unless you count three dollars and a bad bottle of whiskey that I found in Baby’s secret compartment, nothing more. Hell, I don’t even own her anymore. I just… I don’t want to endanger you or cause you more trouble.”  He opens his fist on the counter, tips of his fingers barely touching hers like he craves the connection but is afraid to make it. “I’m a convicted felon, for christ’s sake. You don’t want or need someone like me around. You deserve better. If I drag you any further into my life… my mess… you'll get hurt…” His shoulders slump, and he slides his hand away from hers.

Well, fuck. How did we get from a steamy make-out session to this? 

Dean takes a step back, his hand almost off the edge of the counter, but she reaches out and grasps his wrist, denting her fingers into his skin in hopes of keeping him from pulling away. “Don’t.” Dean stills, but his face remains blank. “‘Please don’t say we shouldn’t or that it’s a mistake.’” She can’t quite tell if the flicker in his eyes is pain, anger, or fear, maybe all of the above. “That’s what you said to me last night. Why did you say that if you were planning on running away? Because when you said that, it sounded like you enjoyed the kiss and wanted to take whatever is going on between us to the next level.” 

He remains silent, jaw rippling as he clenches it. He takes another step back, and she moves with him keeping her grip tight.

“No.” She digs her nails into his flesh, it has to hurt, but he doesn’t even flinch. “You are not leaving. I’m not letting you run. We agreed, remember? No more talk of running. Besides, it’s not up to you to decide what I want. It’s certainly not your responsibility to protect me.” Throwing her hand up, she exclaims. “The things you said to me a few moments ago, the way you touched me, what was that? You heard and felt the way I responded to you. What happened? I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone freeze up so fast.” Kasey stops, inhaling sharply.

Why am I pushing this? If he wants to leave, then it’s for the best. Let him leave. I didn’t ask for my life to be thrown into this maelstrom. Once he’s gone, I can get back to my normal, peaceful routine. 

Yeah, it might be for the best, but it hurts like hell thinking about it. Fueled by fear, she lets the anger begin to rise. “I call bullshit. You know something is happening. There’s chemistry between us, and you’re scared. You use witty sarcasm and flirty smiles to hide behind and keep everyone at arm’s length so that it’s easier to leave when things get too complicated for you. I’ve seen it before, and I see it in you."

Cocking her head to the side, she sneers, "You think I don’t have the same war going on in my head? You think I don’t know that it’s insane to have these desires that make me question my morality? That I’m not trying to figure out how to deal with your case and my feelings at the same time? It’s fucking overwhelming, but I’m not running.”

The muscles in his arm flex, and he shifts on his feet. Dean’s initial look of shock is quickly overshadowed by what she can only assume to be outrage. The cold intensity of his glare rocks her back a step, and for the first time, she’s afraid of him and what he could do to her, but the controlled composure in his tone takes her completely off guard.

“But you did.”

“What?” Releasing her hold, she crosses her arms over her chest, an instinctive urge to protect herself, taking control. 

“You ran. You shut yourself off in this time capsule hideaway with no cell, no television, no computer,” he advances on her, and she takes a couple of steps back, “cut off from the world. You ran because things got too complicated.”

“It- it’s not the same,” she stammers weakly, eyes going wide when the truth of what he’s saying settles in her mind.

Dean is the mirror. He’s the catalyst, the beginning, the end, and every damn thing in between.

“Oh, yes, it is! You-“ He slams his fist on the counter, making Kasey flinch. Apparently noticing her reaction, he sucks in a breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Never mind. I knew this would happen. That somehow, I would screw everything up.” Stepping away from her, he puts the island between them. “I would never physically hurt you, Kasey, but you will get hurt if I stay. I will cause you pain, and I’m not worth it.”

The acute anguish and sorrow swimming in his eyes are gut-wrenching. It pisses her off and breaks her heart in the same breath. What happened to him, beyond what she already knows, to make him feel so inconsequential? Adrenaline still running high, the anger retains its precedence. 

“I’m not a saint, Dean. You,” she points a finger in his direction, “don’t know shit about me, so don’t put me on some goddamn pedestal and then use it as an excuse to justify that somehow I’m better than you. If you genuinely think I am, then fuck you,” she scoffs, “because I’m not. Your life is worth so much more than you evidently believe. You deserve to have a good life, someone to take care of you, love you,” 

Well, he does deserve someone to love him. Honestly, why can’t it be me? Oh, for fuck’s sake, you idiot, because he's your client, well, sort of… It would be unprofessional… wrong.

“and… and you certainly deserve to be free.”

Dean remains silent but shakes his head and backs away when she moves toward him. 

Frustrated with everything that’s transpired, she shouts, “You know what?! Go! I won’t, can’t, force you to stay! If you believe you deserve to spend the rest of your life in a six-by-eight cell or living in the shadows, the door is right behind you. You still have the keys to the Impala. Take her and FUCKING go! I won’t tell anyone about you.”

She turns her back on him, leaning against the kitchen sink and staring out the window, hand clasping into a towel nearby. Tears burn a trail down her cheeks. All she wanted to do was help a man that had been wrongly accused, but she can’t force him to see his own worth. He doesn’t know her, not really. She shouldn’t expect him to have blind faith in her, trust that she can help overturn his conviction, and believe that she can genuinely care about him.

Three days. Three goddamn days and her heart feels like it’s been put through the harvester, reaped and threshed until all that remains is the raw kernel, stripped clean of any defenses. The only person who can sustain it is Dean.

What have I done?

The epiphany wracks her body with sobs. She doesn’t want to go back—can’t go back—to the life she had before he stumbled into it. She doesn’t care that it’s only been three days, the obstacles they’ll have to overcome, or what Sam or anyone else might say. Ready to turn and run after him, beg him to stay, she jumps when a heavy hand rests gently on her arm. Dean offers her a weak smile when she looks over her shoulder. Whimpering, she buries her face in his chest, arms wrapping tightly around him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he says, stroking her hair and kissing the top of her head, arm snug against her back, holding her close. “I’m sorry I scared you.” His voice wavers with the apology. “We’ll figure it out, okay?”

She sniffs and nods, clinging to him like ivy to a tree, unable to speak yet. He continues to run a gentle hand over her head, cheek resting against her temple. His heart's strong, steady beat is soothing and helps to quell the flurry of residual agitation. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she whispers after the hiccups pass. 

“It’s alright.” He squeezes her tighter. “I had no right to get so angry.”

“No,” she pulls away, grimacing at the wet slide of her cheek against his chest. Reaching for the towel next to the sink, she wipes away the salty dampness her tears left on him, “it’s not. I had no right to talk to you like that. I don’t know you any better than you know me.”

Dean takes the towel from her. With one arm still loosely wrapped around her waist, he squats to her eye level and gently dries her face and neck. “Well, you’re wrong about that. You seem to know me pretty damn well for someone that just met me. Your grandpa was clearly right about that gift of yours.” 

Tossing the towel onto the counter, his hands frame her face. “You were wrong about something else, though.” He tilts his head to make sure she sees him. “I’m not afraid of the feelings. I’m genuinely afraid you’ll get hurt somehow. Worse than me making you cry, and I never want to do that again. It felt like Baby was sitting on my chest, listening to you break like that.”

He slides a thumb over her lips to silence her when she opens her mouth. “I’m afraid that the crazy, wonderful,” he pauses, “feelings I’ve been feeling will be ripped away if we start something. So, yeah, I understand why you feel like you’re getting mixed messages. ‘Cause I’m having a really hard time wrapping my head around what’s going on.” 

Kasey’s eyes widen. She honestly hadn’t expected him to fully admit his feelings, assuming, correctly, that his first instinct is to shut down, but listening to him openly express his fears and explain why he reacted the way he did, fills her with a sense of relief.

“I feel that, for whatever reason, I don’t understand right now, this—this farm, this house, this time—it’s where I’m supposed to be.” He taps a hand over his heart, and the other drops to cradle her neck. “That I belong here, with you. I have this sense of knowing you forever, yet it’s only been a little over seventy-two hours. And that freaks the hell out of me. What? Why are you grinning at me like that?“

She steps closer to him, wrapping her fingers around his forearm at her shoulder. “That’s exactly how I feel. You know… what you said about being afraid to start something and then having it torn away. But I don’t want to let this slip through my fingers and always wonder… What if? I told you before that I don’t believe in soulmates, fate… or any of that crap, but I don’t know what else to call this. I just know, with absolute certainty, that I’m afraid to lose you, and you're not even mine.”  

Kasey’s not certain if Dean’s eyes have glossed over or if the tears welling in hers are distorting the view, but either way, his soft smile sends hers spilling over her lashes. He pulls her against him, cradling her head against his chest and arm holding her firm. Her heart swells with the awareness that it makes her feel exactly how she imagined it would—protected, content, and loved.

Seconds later, she feels his tears dampen her head as he mumbles, “It’d be really awesome if I could shut off the damn waterworks for a while.”

Chuckling, she kisses his chest just above his heart as he places a kiss on the top of her head. As happy as she could be staying just as they are now, she irrefutably knows what she wants and isn’t going to waste another minute stressing over the repercussions. She turns out of his embrace and takes his hand, pulling him with her. After only a moment’s hesitation, Dean lets her lead him down the hall to his bedroom. 

Dean pushes the door closed behind them with his foot as she walks backward, drawing him along by the hands. Stopping when she reaches the end of the bed, she cradles his neck, fingers massaging at his nape. “I want you, Dean, but more than anything, I want you to take what you need. I’ll give you everything if you will just kiss me again.”

“Shit, Kasey, I-“

“Shh.” She pushes up on her toes, pulling him down toward her.

Resting his hands on her hips, he presses his forehead to hers, a glimmer in his eye. “Well, you should be kissed—and often—and by someone who knows how.”

“Oh, and I suppose, Mr. Butler, you think you’re the proper person?” she teases in her best southern drawl.

“Yes, I do.” Dean slides his hands up to encircle her ribcage and lifts her from the floor.

Maneuvering her legs beneath her to kneel on the edge of the bed, hands on his shoulders, Kasey stares at him in deference, willing to do almost anything to feel those supple lips roaming her flesh again.

Once she’s settled, his fingers lightly graze over her bare skin, thumbs slipping beneath the material of her dress to caress the underside of her breasts. The glimmer of humor in his eyes shifts, and she gasps, captured in their smoldering depths. 

Like a moth drawn to a flame, she tilts forward as Dean sets a hand at her hip, the other cradling the back of her head, thumb caressing her jaw. Kasey sighs against his mouth, eyes drifting closed when their lips finally meet. 

It starts sweet and gentle, soft-lip open-mouthed kisses, almost tentative, like each is expecting the other to pull away. They give in to the kiss when neither does, lips moving in sync like a well-choreographed dance they’ve been practicing for years. He claims her mouth, hungry and demanding, steals her breath only to replace it with his own, fueling the fire blooming deep in her center. Her lips part of their own volition, and the first slide of his tongue against hers is electric and delicious. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon, and she whines into his mouth, begging for more. 

Thick fingers tangle into her hair, loosening more strands. Reaching back, she frees her hair from the elastic band, letting the loose waves cascade down her back. Weaving a few tendrils through his fingers, he closes his hand and gently tugs, breaking the kiss. He doesn’t go far, scruff scratching over her skin as he trails kisses down her neck. “So beautiful,” he whispers, his breath hot and damp, making her body twist and shiver with pleasure.

Kasey’s fingers slip over the silky strands of his hair on the back of his head, holding him in place as he continues the assault on her neck, nipping and sucking marks into her skin. The muscles of his arm twitch beneath the fingers of her other hand as she traces a path along the dip in his forearm and over the ridge of his tricep, coming to rest at his shoulder. When he hits the sweet spot near the back of her neck, they flutter against him before seizing into his skin.

Continuing to play with his hair, she lightly scrapes her nails over his scalp, waiting for his reaction, and is rewarded with a low moan that vibrates over her skin. The sensation shoots straight through her to pool low and warm in her belly. 

Plump lips find hers again, teasing her with quick pecks at the corners of her mouth, a slow slide of his tongue over her top lip, the sharp nip and release of her bottom lip. By the time he presses his full mouth to hers again, she’s wound tight as a guitar string. Ready to snap at the slightest pluck. Ready to fall apart, needy and wet, and all he’s done is kiss her. It’s so not fair. He briefly pulls away, tilting his head in the other direction, rolling a taut nipple between his thumb and index finger with the motion. Blood rushing, heart pounding, she inhales what might be her last breath as his lips seal over hers again.

I’m going to die. I’m going to die from this kiss.

The thought plays on a loop in her head, and just as she’s about to relinquish her soul to whatever entity gifted him with those lips and the knowledge of how to use them, he breaks away. She greedily sucks in a breath along with his bottom lip, roughly grazing her teeth over the sensitive flesh as she slowly releases it. Dean hisses, digging his fingers into her. He looks slightly dazed, eyes stunningly dark, lips swollen and glossy with spit.

His beard is damp with sweat, the short hairs tickling her palm when she cups his jaw. She brushes a thumb over the lush, reddened skin of his mouth, and he grins a cheeky little smirk, tongue slipping between his parted lips to lick the pad before sucking the digit between his lips and gently biting down. 

Nope, not a kiss. His mouth. My death certificate will read, Cause of Death: ‘Dean Winchester’s mouth’.

“What a filthy mouth,” she teases. Dean wiggles his eyebrows at her, still holding her thumb captive between his lips. “No… sinful. You’re a wicked little incubus, aren’t you.” She licks at the corner of his mouth, scraping the nails of her free hand down the skin of his side. His body jerks violently, and he releases her thumb with a grunt. 

She nearly falls off the bed, hands slapping against his chest to steady herself. “Oh. Someone’s ticklish,” she laughs. Wriggling her fingers, she prepares to dig in, but Dean’s quicker. Grabbing her wrists, he pins her arms behind her back, forcing her closer to him, a smug smile and sparkling eyes meeting her startled expression.

“I don’t think s-” Dean chokes on the words when she nips at the base of his throat, then licks up the underside of his chin and across his jaw.

He smells divine, a scent that’s distinctly him rising over body wash and shampoo, and she inhales deeply, nudging her nose behind his earlobe. She kisses the salt off his skin from ear to chin, his pulse skipping when she lingers over the vein in his neck, giving it a quick bite. “You taste yummy,” she purrs, licking her lips as she straightens up. She kisses a corner of his mouth, “So,” a kiss to the other corner, “Winchester,” looking up through her eyelashes, their lips brushing against each other’s like butterfly wings as she whispers, “what else can you do with this mouth?” 

The deep growl rumbles from his chest to echo in hers, making her heart pound faster. Releasing her wrists, large hands encircle her upper arms, and he lifts her from the bed, holding her steady until her feet settle on the floor. She’s always been a sucker for someone big enough to manhandle her yet be gentle too. Her walls clench at the thought of whether he’s big all over. The bulge she felt against her ass earlier seemed pretty impressive, but she’s eager to have a look, feel the weight of him in her hand. Eyes flicking downward, she reaches out to palm him through the loose cotton pants, but Dean stops her once again.

He lightly grips her hand, kissing his way up her arm as he pulls it around the back of his neck. “I want to enjoy this for as long as possible. Besides, you wanted to know what I could do with my mouth, right?”

Kasey brings her other arm up, hands meeting behind his head, twirling a lock of hair through her fingers. “You know, I’ve wanted to tell you since that first day you walked into the kitchen, showered, shaved, hair falling in soft waves, that I thought your hair was the perfect tuggable length.” She snares a handful, “Do you like your hair pulled, Dean?” and yanks his head back. The fingers sliding over her arms dig into her triceps, a gruff croak slipping from his lips as his hips pitch forward. “Oooh, yes… you do,” Angling her hips, she rocks against him, the feeling of how hard he is, inciting a gasp from her.

“Aww, shit,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “I- I can’t wait-”

“Then don’t.”

A hand at the nape of her neck prevents her from stumbling back when his lips crash into hers. Crossing her arms behind his head, pulling him closer, her body arches to meet him. He breaks the kiss all too soon, and just like that, she’s left breathless again. Panting, she presses her forehead against his chest as he unties the knot holding her dress in place. She swirls her tongue over his nipple, alternating between soft kitten licks and sharp flicks of her tongue. The sounds she draws from him make her panties moist with slick. She drops her hands and works the material of his pants down over his ass.

The knot falls loose, and Dean holds her at arm’s length letting the dress slip from her body to pool on the floor. Tilting his head, his mouth falls open as if in awe, eyes raking over her from tip to toe and back again. “Damn, you're gorgeous,” he husks, teeth scraping over his lower lip.

Eyes locked with his, she palms over his hard length before loosely fisting around him. “So thick, just like the rest of you.” Wetting her lips, she slowly strokes him, slipping her thumb over the small V just below the head. Dean sputters and moans, and she kisses the tip of his chin. “Fuck, me.”

Dean tugs the garment down his thighs, and Kasey drops with a heavy bounce as he steps out of the material, pushing her back onto the bed. Keeping him in hand, she strokes the length of him. Pre-cum leaks enticingly from his slit, and the need to taste him, feel that weight of him on her tongue, is overpowering. Pinching her chin between thumb and forefinger, he tilts her head back when she leans forward to lick at him, preventing her from reaching her goal.

Brows pulled together, she flicks her eyes upward and pouts, “I want to show you what I can do with my mouth.” She constricts her grip and tugs. Dean thrusts into her fist, fingers denting into her cheeks, other hand grasping around her wrist to halt any further movement from her.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you.”

“I want everything, your mouth, your fingers, those hands, that dick.”

He hisses through clenched teeth, looking down at the hand still holding him. “I knew these fingers, this hand,” his thumb strokes over her skin, “would feel good wrapped around me. I didn’t realize just how good it would feel.” He loosens the hold on her face but tightens the one on her wrist. “I need you to stop, or this will be over way too soon.”

She unfurls her fingers and pushes her bottom lip out a little further, whining, “But I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten breakfast yet.”

“Fuuuuucking, hell.” Dean looks like his dick isn’t the only thing about to explode. Releasing her hand, he leans into her, forcing her to lie back. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Kasey smiles as she watches him struggle to regain control, silently reveling in the knowledge that she can rile him up as much as he had done to her. The moment his demeanor shifts, she tries to move up the bed, steeling herself for his next move, but he quickly grips her knee holding her in place as he straightens. “Where do you think you’re going?” His long, lean body is now on full display in all its glory, and she nearly melts into the mattress. The air leaves her lungs in a whoosh, making her dizzy, and she grips the bedding to ground herself. There’s so much to take in that she’s unsure where to look, so she briefly closes her eyes.

No one has a right to look that good. If he were to be arrested for anything, this should have been it. It’s cruel and unusual punishment. Oh! I wonder what kind of punishment he would dish out?

When she finally peels her lids open, her eyes immediately land on his beefy thighs, and an image of her straddling one as large hands guide her over those taut muscles makes her chest heave. The air around her sizzles with heat, or maybe it’s her skin; it could be both. She swallows hard and brushes her tongue over her lips, futilely attempting to slake the thirst of her parched mouth.

“You okay, there?”

The deep bass of his voice is a shock to her already overloaded system, and her shoulders twitch. “Just kill me now.”

“Kase?”

She hadn’t meant to say it aloud. The concern laced in the word brings her frazzled brain into a semi-focused awareness. She manages a smile as she lifts her eyes to his face, all sense of intelligent thought once again fleeing when she’s greeted with a cheeky smile and a knowing gaze. “I, uh, I said, I- I’m fine.”

The arch of a single brow accompanied by the nod of his head ignites a spark of defiance. Dean’s eyes darken and shift, intently watching as she brings a hand up to tweak her nipple. Focused on the hungry glint in his eyes, she’s startled by the feel of her underwear being slipped from beneath her ass and over her ankles.

“Time to let me see.” With a wink and a wicked smile, she brings her knees up and lets her legs fall open. He brings the scrap of fabric to his nose and tugs on his shaft as he inhales deeply. “Who knew you’d be such a tease,” he smirks, tossing the white cotton to the floor.

Kasey gulps, feeling her cunt dripping onto the sheets. She hurriedly scoots up the bed, but Dean moves like a jungle cat, pinning her down before she can reach the pillows, mouth immediately latching onto a breast. She yelps in surprise, the slap of her hands against his shoulder blades echoing through the room. Her back instinctively arches, but she has nowhere to go, his weight hard and heavy on top of her.

“Shit, shit, shit. Give a girl some warning,” she huffs.

He smiles against her skin, tongue flicking across the hardened nub trapped between his teeth before releasing it. “Why? It’s more fun this way.” He turns his attention to the other breast, fingers drifting featherlight down her body, making her leg twitch when he brushes over the crease of her leg and hip. “Huh, seems like someone else might be ticklish,” he murmurs, chuckling softly, the sound vibrating through her body.

Whining his name, she squirms beneath him when he ghosts his fingers over the area again, then gasps as he shifts his body, giving himself room to run a finger through her folds. He sinks his finger in to the first knuckle while his thumb circles her clit. 

“You’re so wet,” he taunts, pushing in further before pulling out. “Is that all for me?” Kissing the valley between her breasts, he adds a second finger and starts a slow slide in and out… in and out...

Kasey’s brain short circuits.

Not a kiss. Not his mouth. Him. I’m going to die from all of him.

“Who- who the h- hell else would it be for, you ass.” she manages to splutter. “Just fuck me already.”

“Whoa, no need to get mean. But I do love the sound of nasty words coming from such a pretty mouth.” He sucks a mark into the top of her breast, his fingers picking up the pace as he continues to pump them into her slick heat. “You gonna talk dirty to me? Make me lick that filthy mouth clean?”

She can’t reach what she wants to grab, so she settles for grabbing a handful of hair and pulling his face up to hers. He looks fucking giddy, a shit-eating grin plastered on his lips. She narrows her eyes and snarls, “I’ll spew every fucking filthy word I know.  Hell, I’ll even swear in fucking Latin if it helps. All the fucking filth you can goddamn fucking STAND from this pretty mouth; talk so motherfucking dirty to you, you’ll need to shower twice to feel clean if you. will. just. fuck. me.” She’d laugh at the unmitigated shock that adorns his face, but the coil is wound so tight it’s almost painful. “Please,” she sweetly begs. 

His eyes hold an ardent enthusiasm, but his smile softens, and he kisses the tip of her nose. “That’s why I need you to come for me, honey. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She keens his name when he scissors his fingers and grinds onto his hand when he adds a third, making her walls convulse. “That’s it,” he whispers in her ear, “I can feel you getting closer.” 

“Shit… feels good.” Curling in on herself, she breathes, “p- please.”

He places a peck on her cheek, “I want you to come hard for me, okay?” presses a kiss to her temple, “I want to feel you dripping down my arm,” taps his thumb over her clit, riling her up, enticing her to the edge. “Can you do that?”

“Y- yes…” Slipping a hand around the back of his neck, she thrusts against his hand, “fuck… feels so good,” as the other grips the arm working her over, “right there… right there.” Each thrust of his hand buries those long thick fingers deep, deeper than she could ever get on her own. She writhes next to him, yearning for release but not wanting it to end.

“Good girl.” Dean nips sharply at her earlobe and curls his fingers, thumb pressing into her clit. 

Hips canting off the bed, back bowed, her body seizes, breath stalled, sound trapped in her throat, and walls clamped firmly around his fingers. 

“That’s my girl,” he coos. “Fuck, that’s tight.” He tries to wiggle his fingers, and she cries out.

It’s all too much—his fingers, his voice, the weight and heat of him, the wave of euphoria that rolls through her. She collapses back onto the bed, her nails digging into his flesh, walls spasming around the fingers still fucking her. “Christ… fuck…” She twists her hips and clenches her thighs together, trying to stop the overstimulation, chest heaving, and heart threatening to burst.

“Nuh, uh.” Dean wedges a leg between hers, keeping them separated, his hand slowing as he eases her down. “Deep breaths.” 

Kasey tries to do as he says, sucking in lungfuls of air, slowly exhaling in time with the rhythm of his fingers… in and out… in and out… she dissolves into the mattress, dazed and blissful.

“There you go.” He kisses her deeply, tongue slipping in as he frees his fingers completely.

Hips jerking, she whines, already missing the feeling of fullness he’d provided. Damn, he was right. He needed to prepare her. If she felt that full with just his fingers, that cock of his will split her open. She can’t wait. 

Dean bites her bottom lip, bringing her focus back to him. Leaning up on his elbow, he brings his hand up from between her legs, “Look at the mess you made.” Kasey looks down her body to find his entire hand glistening as he wiggles his fingers, her juices dripping from his wrist. “Such a good girl, doing exactly as you were told.”

She can’t lie; the praise makes her feel warm and fuzzy, tightening the coil again a notch or two. He swipes his wrist across her thigh, then scoots down to lick it from her skin. “Tastes so good.” He breathes over the wet trail his tongue left behind, laughing as the goosebumps rise on her flesh, making her whine. Flicking his tongue out, he laps at his palm before shoving a finger into his mouth and moans, then proceeds to suck each finger clean in turn, releasing his thumb with a loud pop when he’s finished.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his thick fingers. Fuck his sinful mouth and talented tongue. Fuck his dreamy eyes and sexy voice, broad shoulders, and ripped arms. Fuck his bowed legs and meaty thighs. Fuck him.

And she categorically does want to… fuck him, that is. Dean rolls over the top of her, resting his weight on his forearms on either side of her shoulders, their noses nearly touching. 

“Ever taste yourself?” 

The question sounds obscene, depraved, the rasp of whiskey and smoke-filled barrooms pervading the words. It makes her stomach flip and her toes curl. He could be the devil incarnate, and she’d willingly follow him to hell and back if he promised to talk to her like that every day. She shakes her head. She can smell her arousal on his breath, and it turns her on more than she ever thought it would, making her squirm beneath him, wanting nothing more than to taste the tang of her release. 

“Seriously?” Eyes dark and hungry, he smiles wide and bright. “Do you want to?” 

Nodding eagerly, she unconsciously licks her lips in anticipation.

Dean’s smile is wicked as he breathes, “Go ahead.” 

Tilting her chin up, she gives him a tentative peck on the lips, which reveals little in the way of taste. He patiently watches as she bites her lip, then licks along his top lip.

She scrunches her nose at first, and he chuckles, brushing back the strands of hair sticking to her cheek. “Try again.”

He parts his lips further, letting her sweep her tongue in to explore his mouth with the next kiss. Kasey moans, and he pulls away, kissing the tip of her nose, the corners of his eyes crinkling with his smile. “Exactly.” His cock lies heavy against her thigh, and he ruts into her, mouth capturing hers, letting her lick his mouth clean. She pants when they break apart, “I want to taste you now.”

Wincing, he groans, “Later. I want to fuck you hard. Like you’ll feel me for days hard. I almost blew my load watching you fall apart. I can’t hold back much longer, and I really, really want to feel that tight cunt squeeze around my dick as you come.”

“Well, well, look who’s got the filthy mouth now.” she giggles. “Unfortunately, I think we will have to wait for that.”

“Wait? Why?” He looks terror-stricken. “I can’t wait. I mean… if you need to… don’t want to… then, yeah, we can wait. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… assume… anything. I just thought… with everything you said… what we just did… “

She lets him ramble on a bit more before kissing him to shut him up. Dean blinks down at her, confusion written into every gorgeous angle of his face. Sliding a hand down his side, she traces the edge of the bandage. “I meant the rough sex, but-”

“Ah, phfft.” He cuts her off, rolling his eyes like she’s a crazy person. “I can barely feel it. It’ll be fine.” 

Pinning him with a stern glare, she huffs, “May I finish?”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I have an idea that I think will make you just as happy.”

“Does it involve me feeling that sweet pussy around my dick?”

“Jesus.” It’s her turn to roll her eyes. “Yes.”

“Awesome, what’s the idea?”

“Get off me and lie on your back.” 

Dean’s eyes immediately light up, quickly catching on, and he rolls off her, situating himself in a semi-reclining position against the pillows. Kasey sits up on her haunches, then moves to straddle him, only to jerk back when he slaps his palms against the sheets and angrily shouts, “Son of a bitch.”

“What?” Not sure what’s happening, she quickly scans his body paying close attention to the bandage on his injured side. “You okay? What’s wrong?”

Scrubbing a hand down his face, he laments, “Uhm… condoms?”

She blinks rapidly, comprehension taking a moment to set in. “Oh! Well, I’m sure there are a couple around here somewhere, but they won’t be any good.” The forlorn-little-boy look on his face nearly sends her into a fit of laughter, and she bites her lip until she can swallow it back down. “I have an implant,” she tentatively states. Resting her hand, palm up, on his thigh, she taps the skin over the tiny bar. 

Dean tilts his head curiously, eyes narrowing a bit. He wraps his fingers around her arm, thumb resting about an inch from the device, and eyes her quizzically.

“You can touch it,” she nods.

Lightly running his thumb over the area, he grimaces. “That feels weird. Does it hurt?”

“No, I don’t even feel it anymore. I got it right before I moved.” Smiling, she carefully watches his face. “So, we’re covered on that front. We good?”

“I’m good,” he nods eagerly.

Dean continues to hold her arm, helping her to balance as she throws a leg over his thighs, settling her ass just above his knees. “What are you doing so far away?” He holds his other hand up, and she flattens her palm against his, forcing their intertwined fingers onto the pillow above his head, moaning in unison with him when her still wet folds slide over his shaft.

She leans in and gives him a short, sweet kiss, sliding her hips back as she bears down on him. Dean grunts and releases the hold on her arm to cup the side of her face. His gaze is intense, but his eyes are soft and apologetic as he brushes his thumb over the apple of her cheek, and for a second, she worries that he might ask her to stop. Instead, he kisses her, sensual and slow. The rush to get where they are is gone, and now he clearly wants to savor the moment. Fingers slipping into her hair, he lifts his chin and pulls her closer. Nose pressed alongside hers, he hesitates, sharing a breath, looking at her with something akin to wonder. Kasey softly wraps her fingers around his wrist and whispers his name. Eyelids fluttering closed, he tilts his head to slot his lips with hers. The emotions he imparts in the kiss are startling. It’s passionate yet tender, intoxicating and exhilarating, loving and sweet. She swears she could come again just from this kiss.

She swirls her hips, his cock slipping through her folds, and he growls into her mouth. The smile it elicits causes him to pull back, smirking at her. “I want you so bad it hurts. But feeling you raw, I think this might end quicker than either of us would like.” 

The sincerity in his tone warms her heart, and she responds in kind. Squeezing the hand she’s holding, she turns her head and kisses his palm. “We have all day. I’m sure we will have ample opportunity to find ways of enjoying each other.”

He visibly relaxes under her gaze. 

“So let me take care of you.” She rocks her hips, sliding him through her wet heat. After her second pass, he drops his hand to her waist and thrusts against her, and she immediately stills. Lightly smacking his chest, she growls, “You don’t move. I’m in charge now.”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

The smug smirk falls from his lips when her fingers grip his cock and squeeze. “I mean it. You, don’t move.”

“Got it.” She runs her thumb through his slit and strokes him a couple of times to make sure he’s fully covered in her slick. “N-No moving.” Lifting, she notches his tip at her entrance. “I’ll just…” She slowly eases down an inch or so. “lie h- here and take-”

Grunting, he slams his head back into the pillows, fingers denting into the top of her ass cheeks as she drops, impaling herself on his shaft. Falling forward, she presses her hand into his pec and tucks her chin, taking a moment to let the burn of the stretch dissipate. She knew he’d feel good, but damn, this… this is illusory. The stuff fantasies are made of. He’s broad and long, just like the rest of him, and he fills her so completely.

“Kasey?”

“Yeah, one more sec.” She clenches around him, feeling every thick ridge and throbbing vein. 

“Kase, I need you to move.” Voice strained, he begs, “Please.”

Chuckling, she lifts her head to watch him as she slowly rises, then eases back onto him, setting a slow, steady pace. She releases his hand and kisses the tip of his chin as she brushes her knuckles over his cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

Dean scrunches his face at the word, and she smiles sweetly. “You are.” She tucks a section of hair back at his temple, “you’re smart.” Her index finger traces an eyebrow, “your eyes are kind, filled with emotion.” She trails the finger down his nose, tapping the end. “An adorable freckled nose.” Leaning forward, she rubs the tip of her nose against his, continuing to thrust shallow and slow. Her finger slides through the dip of his Cupid’s bow and drags over his bottom lip to his chin. She lets her tongue take over, placing her hand to rest on the bed above his shoulder. Keeping his gaze, she licks along his lower lip and whispers, “This deliciously sinful mouth.” The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, cock twitching inside her, fingers flexing into her flesh. “Such a gorgeous smile.”

Kasey sits back, and he slips in deeper, stretching her snug walls around him. The sense of fullness and the drag over her g-spot makes her tremble in anticipation. Despite his reservations, she has no doubt that he’ll make her come again. 

Dean regards her with rapt attention as she undulates over him, her body slowly twisting and curving, building momentum. “Do you know what I think the sexiest thing is about you?” Perfect white teeth rake over his bottom lip as he shakes his head. She snakes a finger down his chest before tapping two fingers over his heart. “This heart. It’s a good heart.” Her other hand slips between them. “Strong and steady.”

“Fuck… oh… shit…” Dean’s body jerks, and his cock swells when her fingers brush against his shaft as she circles her clit. “Kasey…”  His big hands squeeze the globes of her ass, then drop to grip around her ankles, forcing her knees forward and drawing her legs closer to his body.

Fingers curling into his chest, she pitches forward, her other hand landing on his shoulder as she grinds down onto him. Mouth pressed to his ear, she breathes, “Come for me.” And he does, spurting hot and deep inside her with a strangled shout. 

Dean’s hands encircle her waist, helping her move as she continues to bounce on him while he throbs inside her. Seconds later, she bites into the skin of his collarbone, clenching around him while he holds her flush against his pelvic bone, the wave of pleasure washing over her even stronger than before.  

He wraps her up in his arms when she collapses on top of him, chests heaving against each other and hearts pounding. His skin slips against hers, where the sweat has pooled between them as he flips them over. Brushing damp stray hairs off her forehead, he places quick, tender kisses over her face, then slides down between her legs, laying his head over her heart, using her breasts as a makeshift pillow.

“Damn, that was awesome.” His warm breath tickles her cooling skin.

“It was,” she chuckles, fingers drawing random patterns on his shoulder. “I can’t wait to do it again.” She hooks her heels over his thighs as his laughter shakes the mattress beneath them. 

He dips his head to kiss her skin before replying, “Give me a minute to catch my breath.”

She smiles, looking down at him; the weight of his body grounds her. Dean hums, breaths slowing as she cards her fingers through his hair. He slides his arms closer to her body, hands resting against her sides, not quite cupping her breasts, and relaxes further into her, pressing her deeper into the bedding. It’s hot and sticky, but she doesn’t care and has no intention of moving. She closes her eyes, letting the bliss-filled silence stretch between them. She’s on the edge of sleep when he murmurs against her.

“There was one more thing you were wrong about.”

“Sheesh. Is this going to become a thing now? Are you going to start keeping a list?” 

He chuckles as he lifts his head, resting his chin in the cleft below her breasts, and she peels her lids up just enough to see him. “Earlier when you said that… that I wasn’t yours. You were wrong. I’ve been yours from the moment I stepped onto your porch.”

Previous // Next

Love Me Some Pie taglist: @akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deanwanddamons // @flamencodiva // @idreamofplaid // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @michellethetvaddict // @mvdeanw // @shawnie74 // @siospins2 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix

@muchamusedaboutnothing

#jays3kcelebration #spnaubingo #fugitive au #dean wincheseter #dean x ofc #au series #long chapter #run to you chapter eleven

[eevvvaa]

The Challenge

Summary : Dean offers you a new challenge and you can’t say no.

Pairing : Dean x reader

Words : 3 776

Warnings : Drunk!reader, drunk!Dean, language, smut, handkink ;) (I always have a hard time writing the warnings so tell me if I did it wrong. And if you think of something else to be mentionned, don’t hesitate to tell me please)

A/N : This was written for the amazing writer @jay-and-dean​ and the 3K followers celebration she organized. I chose Sam as my third character, someone being drunk and “Can you take 3 fingers ?” as a prompt. I hope you’ll like it and once again : congratulations !

My masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His face was so close.

It had never been so close to yours before, even if you had wished for it plenty of times. But tonight it was.

You could feel his hot breath landing on your wet lips and flushed cheeks, making them burn instead of cooling them down.

Thanks to this proximity you could clearly see how long his eyelashes were, the shadow of them darkening his light skin when he blinked. You could also spot every freckle on his perfect face : on his cheeks, forehead, the bridge of his nose, his chin, even his lips.

God, those lips… the plump and pink pillows were begging to be kissed over and over again. A dream you had since he had come into your life. Ever since you had helped both of the brothers on a case two years ago.

And now you were happily celebrating a successful hunt with the greatest hunter of them all. And him being this close to you was making you anxious yet so eager. His warmth was slowly engulfing you, creating a warm bubble, heating even your inside. His scent : a mix of leather, dirt from the previous hunt and something manly that was just so Dean was infiltrating your nostrils and making your mind dizzy.

Your mind, soul and body were in total harmony. And his own acted as though they wanted to join yours, creating a whole new being.

Almost lost in your thoughts, and in him, you were brought back to reality when he chuckled, his killing smirk plastered on his gorgeous face.

"So Sweetheart, what do you say?" He asked in a low voice, the deep and hoarse sound making you shiver, creating goosebumps on your already warm and sweaty skin.

"Can you take three fingers?"

You shuddered slightly at the question. Dean Winchester was really trying to kill you.

You thought about it for a second. Three fingers wasn’t a little thing to take, especially Dean’s ones. You lowered your head, your eyes falling on his hot left hand resting on your naked tight. Your breath got stuck in your throat for a second.

Looking at his hands for too long could do that to you.

You had fantasized about his hands and fingers almost more than his lips. Those long and thick fingers at the end of his calloused yet soft palms. The short fingernails that could so easily and deliciously scratch your smooth skin. The freckles on them turning those deadly weapons into beautiful pieces of art.

You could look at them for hours, your mind always drifting away and creating unchaste daydreams. Sometimes they even came to your mind unconsciously, usually wetting your sheets.

And now that he was raising one of his strong and big hands to show you those three fingers he was asking you to take, your whole body shivered in impatience and apprehension.

Wetting your lips, you looked from the fingers begging to be taken to his intense green orbs almost covered by his dilated pupils. But, maybe unfortunately for you, you always loved a challenge so you decided to give him his smirk back.

“Who do you think I am? Of course I can.” You told him with confidence, staring into his eyes.

A smile appeared on his lips, opening them and his right hand came back on your leg, the warmth of it spreading out again on your thigh.

“Alright then, let’s see.” He answered, his eyebrows arching in expectation.

At his face, you reconsidered your words, not sure if after all you could. But before you could add anything, the broad hunter slowly moved back, to your great displeasure. After his body, disappeared his warmth and scent, leaving you cold and inodorous.

Then the air in the room came back to hit your face, the humid atmosphere surrounding you again. And the alcohol’s scent slowly started to replace his, even if you were holding on to it. The more he moved away from you, the more the thin bubble you were both in was deteriorating. You tried to keep it unscathed as much as you could but eventually the pop music burst it, the drops of this moment with Dean slowly falling on the sticky floor.

“Bartender! Three fingers of your strongest whiskey for the lady, please!” Dean yelled to be heard over the music blazing inside the bar.

The man froze an instant, looking at you to get your approval but you had a hard time looking at him when the most handsome man on the planet was grinning at you. Your eyes stayed focused on Dean and a movement of his head, he indicated to you to answer the bartender and keep your words.

You swallowed with difficulties before the redhead man spoke directly to you.

“Ma’am?”

Taking an assured breath, you simply nodded at him, letting him know you were in for it. So he turned around, grabbed a whiskey glass and a half-drunk bottle high on the shelf. Then he faced you again and put the glass on the counter. Dean immediately placed three of his fingers to show where the bartender needed to stop when he would pour the whiskey and you took a deep breath, preparing yourself.

Once it was served, Dean took the glass and handed it to you, a proud smile on his face. You took the glass and your fingers brushed his, sending an electric signal through your body.

You brought the alcohol closer to you and decided to take your time with it, smelling it. It was definitely a strong one. But even though you knew it was going to burn your throat and warm up your stomach, from the smell of it you knew it was a good one too, the peaty and woody spice of it reaching your nose. Then you raised the glass, admiring the amber color enlightened by the lights above the counter.

But Dean must have felt you stalling and decided to stop it by putting back his warm palm against your cooled down skin.

“Are you gonna keep your words or not?” He asked, leaning towards you to make sure you had heard him.

And you had.

You glanced at him, studying his smirk for a second before raising the full glass to your lips. Looking straight into his eyes, you took a first and large gulp. The alcohol burned your throat but you tried to keep your composure and remained a calm face. But once it was all down, you let a satisfied sigh out.

Dean gave you a pleased smile and you raised your eyebrows, showing him you weren’t a coward. He nodded, approving your action and wet his lips before speaking again.

“So, is it a good one?” He asked and you smiled.

You leaned closer to him too and handed him your glass.

“Wanna taste?” You offered.

The hunter took it but immediately put it down the counter with a chuckle. You frowned and he raised his defined brows at you.

“You really thought you would be able to make me drink your glass? You’re the one who accepted the challenge, Sweetheart. Don’t try and palm it off on me.” He declared, tilting his head a little.

You scoffed and shook your head, feigning any intention of getting rid of some of your drink with his help.

“Your lost.” You told him, hiding your hint of disappointment.

You reached out for the alcohol, figuring out that Dean wasn’t going to drink any drop of the amber liquor. But before you could take another sip, the older brother grabbed the back of your knee and brought you closer to him. The sudden movement made you drop some beats of the strong spirit and a short yelp escaped your lips.

Dean took the glass and put it back on the counter. Then his now free hand landed on your left cheek. His index tickled the lob of your ear and your whole body shivered.

One hand under your knee and the other on the side of your face, you could almost die a happy woman.

Then he caught a lock of your hair between his thumb and index and played with it, tugging at it after intertwining it between his thick fingers, keeping it locked around his digits. But he stopped and offered you a new smile, one you had only seen him give to waitresses, women at the grocery store, one night stands.

The very charming one.

But this grin had something else too, something more than just an alluring one. It also seemed genuine, honest.

You had never seen that one before and now that you knew what it looked like, you didn’t want to stop seeing it.

“I know another way to taste it.” He declared, his words breaking your daydream again. But the thing you really noticed was how deeper his voice was and, when you raised your head, how dilated his pupils had become.

Dean moved his hand behind your head and slowly brought your face closer to his, taking his sweet time to torture you while his other hand started to go up your leg. Your heart sped and you stared at the thin layer of green still present around his pupils, before closing your eyes and finally feeling his lips crashing on yours.

Your body felt warm with this contact, the feeling of those dreamy lips against yours. You enjoyed this first kiss and hummed as you felt the tip of his tongue asking for permission to enter.

And you gladly let him.

You opened your mouth and he mimicked your movements, making your tongues meet. Your passive hands became active and quickly found their way to his strong and muscular arms. You ran your soft hands on the fabric of his jacket before going up and passing them between his soft and short locks. His hair tickled the inside of your fingers and before you could stop yourself, you tightened your grip on them, his growl resonating in your mouth.

Loving the sound of it, you tugged at them again and Dean squeezed the skin of your thigh before slipping his hands under the hem of your skirt. You let a moan out yourself, feeling dizzy both by the alcohol you had drank all night and his intoxicating kiss.

The hunter stood up from his stool and forced your legs to open with his hips, placing himself between them. You freed one of your hands to guide him higher on your thigh and under your cloth. Your breath quickened and he brought your head closer to deepen the kiss, pressing harder his lips on yours. You let out another moan when you felt the tip of his fingers reaching for your panties and he smiled against your lips.

Then you felt a hand pushing against your chest and suddenly you were separated from the strong man kissing you. You whimpered at the loss of his lips and hands and opened your eyes to understand what had caused this sudden break. But when you met Dean’s eyes, they were as confused as yours. So your eyes traveled from the hand on your chest to the person it belonged to.

Sam.

“What the hell are you two doing?!” He yelled above the music, his eyes widened open.

“Kissing.” Dean simply answered, a smirk on his face.

You looked back at him and he winked at you, making you blush.

“No, this is not kissing. This is making out. And you can’t put your hand… there, in a public place!” The younger hunter whispered yelled at his brother who rolled his eyes and sat back on his stool. Sam awkwardly gestured at your raised skirt so you quickly lowered it before grabbing your glass like nothing had happened.

“How much whiskey do you have in this?!” He asked, his voice raised again.

You let a long sigh out and took a sip before turning to the agitated man on your right.

“Samuel, I’m a grown woman. I can handle a hand under my skirt and a huge glass of whiskey.” You declared, earning a laugh from Dean. You smiled, proud of this.

Sam, on the other hand, didn’t seem to agree and crossed his huge arms.

“First of all, stop calling me that. Second, you two are completely wasted. I think we should go back to the motel now.” He said with a serious voice but you decided to ignore it and took another sip of the strong liquor. But this time it didn’t burn as much as the first time.

“Come on Sam, we’re just having fun. We killed the bad guy and saved the ladies. Let’s celebrate for once. And we made a bet.” Dean argued with his brother, pointing at you when he mentioned the bet. Sam came closer to you two so you could properly hear him without him having to yell anymore.

“Listen, I’m not against having a good time because it was indeed a successful hunt. But the bartender over there was about to throw you two out for the public display. I stopped him before he could make a scene but I think it would be wise to leave on our own initiative, the bet will have to wait.” He explained and you could feel Dean rolling his eyes again.

But despite his annoyance, Dean stood up and searched his jacket for his wallet. Once he found it, he took a few bills and put them on the counter next to your glass. The bartender walked closer to all of you and Dean offered him a huge fake smile. The man glared at him but the hunter completely ignored him and turned to you.

“Come on, let’s move the party somewhere else.” He told you loud enough for the bartender to hear and offered you his hand to stand up.

Without hesitating a second, you grabbed it and used it to lift yourself up. But once you were standing, your legs felt like jello and you gripped Dean’s jacket to keep yourself from falling on the floor. He quickly grabbed your waist to keep you up and you heard a laugh next to you.

“‘I can handle a huge glass of whiskey’ my ass.” Sam mocked you and you turned your head to glare at him. But it didn’t make him stop laughing.

“Come on Sweetheart, let’s go.” Dean gently told you and you raised your head, mesmerized by the beauty of his face for a second, and finally nodded at him.

Once you felt like you weren’t going to slump like an inanimate doll, you started to walk towards the door, feeling the warm hand of Dean on the small of your back. Sam led the way and you tried to follow him despite your zigzags. Dean wasn’t walking really straight either, having to put his hands on several chairs or tables on his way to the door.

Maybe you weren’t as sober as you thought you were and that glass of whiskey was one too many.

With some effort and some laughs and head shakes from Sam, you finally reached the outside. The fresh air crashed on your face and you took a deep breath, hoping it would clear your mind and magically make you sober.

You raised your head and look at the dark sky. The night was clear from clouds, allowing you to see the milky way and all the constellations in the sky. But the only thing you could think of was the constellations of Dean’s freckles on his face.

Breaking your thoughts, the said man pushed on your back, leading you to the beautiful black impala.

“Aaaaaah, my Baby.” Dean cheered when he saw his beloved car, his voice a little higher this time.

Sam walked to the driver side of the vehicle and turned to the two of you.

“Give me the keys.” Sam told his brother who scoffed.

“What?! No! I can drive.” Dean refused, crossing his arms and frowning like a child.

“Dude, you can’t. You could barely walk straight in the bar. I’m sober, just give me the keys.” Sam insisted and the older man turned to you, probably asking for support.

But instead of waiting for a response from you, he slowly eyed you up and down, scanning your whole body and wet his lips. You felt something warm in your stomach when you spotted the look on his face and he smiled.

“Ok.” He said without even looking at his brother and threw the keys at him, surprising both you and Sam.

From the corner of your eyes you saw him struggle to catch the keys, mumbling something when he opened the driver’s door. Dean was still looking at you when he opened the backseat door and let you climb in first. Once you were settled, he joined you and Sam started the car.

The heating system wasn’t on already so you brought yourself closer to the only source of warmth around you : Dean. He gladly let you, putting a hand behind you on the back of the seat and the other on one of your legs. You felt him lean closer to you and his lips brushed your ear.

“The taste was amazing.” He whispered and you shivered when you felt his breath on your neck.

“You should have taken a glass too.” You replied and he let a little laugh out, shaking his head.

“I was talking about you Baby.” He said, drawing some circles on your skin with his thumb.

You bit your lip at his words and let your fingers go higher and higher on his pants. He let a growl out when you reach the bulge at his crotch.

“You want another taste?” You murmured back and his eyes were darker than you had ever seen them.

“Fuck yeah.” He immediately replied and grabbed the back of your neck to crash his lips on yours for the second time of the night.

This kiss was harder than the first, his tongue urgently entered your mouth and you moaned. His movements were quick, so quick. You didn’t have time to think and you didn’t want to. His hand left you neck and grabbed you waist before the other one tugged at your leg, bringing you closer to him. You almost fell on the seat but the hunter was there to catch you, wrapping his arm around you.

Your hand found his hair and you replayed the actions who had caused those sweet sounds from him, so you pulled at them. His huge palm squeezed your flesh and quickly went up your leg. You brought him closer to you, sitting half on him, his legs between yours and his side against your chest.

“Come on guys! Can’t you wait ten minutes?!” You heard Sam shouted from the front of the car but you didn’t care at all, too hypnotized by the man kissing you.

You heard the younger man curse and the car sped up.

You lowered your hands and let them caress his torso, your nails scratching the fabric of his t-shirt. He grunted in your mouth and you smiled, loving this sound. Then his hand reached your panties and tried to pull it off. But before he could, the car suddenly stopped, making you both almost fall from the backseat. Your lips parted and you looked at each other, both of you out of breath.

“Unbelievable! I leave you the keys, you can stay in the car, I don’t need to hear or see more.” Sam angrily said and you let a chuckle out when he slammed the door shut, storming out of the car. Dean didn’t even protest, too focused on your eyes and your laugh, even joining you.

“I think he didn’t like our ‘public display’.” You said and he leaned on you, laying you down on the bench seat.

“I don’t care.” Dean simply said and attacked your lips again.

His hand finally got a grab at the thin fabric of your panties. He tried to put it down your legs but not wanting to move away from between them, he decided to tear the fabric apart. You gasped at the sudden action and he chuckled.

After throwing the ripped panties behind him, his hand took its place back under your skirt, his eyes focused on yours.

“I wanna taste something else.” He said and you felt the tip of his index slowly caressing between your already wet folds, damping it.

You moaned and threw your head back, earning a chuckle from him. You quickly stood yourself back up and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, kissing and licking his neck making him growl in return.

“Y/N…” He moaned and you sucked at his soft skin in response.

Then the hunter withdrew his hands, making you whimper, and brought his finger to his mouth. He hummed at the action, closing his eyes, enjoying it and you could have come at this right moment. Looking at him sucking his own finger.

“You taste so, so good.” He declared and you moved your head away from his neck to look at him.

He smiled and leaned on you again, spreading your legs a bit wider. You grabbed his biceps before sliding your hands on his back. He wet his lips before kissing you again, making you taste yourself.

One hand holding your back and the other one going back between your thighs, you felt overwhelmed. Then his fingers reached your folds again, slowly spreading them. His thumb gently stroked your clit, sending electric discharges through your whole body. You shivered at the sensation but you weren’t cold.

His lips left yours to attack your neck, letting your moans and sighs out.

“Dean…” You sighed in pleasure.

He kissed higher and higher on your neck until he reached the shell of your ear. His index teased your entrance and you threw your head back a little in pleasure.

“What do you say Sweetheart? Can you take three fingers?” He murmured, his voice deep and aroused.

You opened your eyes, not even realizing you had closed them, and grabbed the sides of his face to make him look at you. He let you and stared at you, waiting for your answer.

“Who do you think I am? Of course I can.” You answered back and he smirked before he covered your mouth with his as he entered one finger, swallowing your moan.

This time your were going to keep your words and win this challenge.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags : @emilielbls​ @roonyxx​ @awkward-and-indecisive​ @avanatural​ @waynes-multiverse​ @akshi8278​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @siospins2​ @deanwithscissors​ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​ 

#jays3kcelebration #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #spn fan fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #drunk!reader #drunk!dean #handkink

[smellingofpoetry]

Frequency

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Crowley, Sam Winchester (mentioned)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: An old ham radio connects Dean and Y/N through time.

Warnings: character death, angst, fluff, a bit of swearing

Words count: 3489

A/N: Hi there! First of all, congratulation again to @jay-and-dean for her 3k celebration for which this story is been written. I really hope that you're going to like it. My third character is Crowley because I loved the man and it was an absolute pleasure to write about him even if for just a bit. I also had "someone is in the wrong year" and this prompt here: "I have waited for 3 years, I won’t wait one more minute." That being said, I loved to write this story. I took the idea from this movie called "Frequency". They also did a show with the same name. I loved both the movie and the tv show, I always thought it was based on a good concept so I decided to try it Supernatural style. Of course, I changed a few things but still. I really hope you guys are going to like it. Please, let me know what you think about it. Feedback is always appreciated!

Dean Winchester Masterlist - Masterlist

It was 3 in the morning and for some reason, she couldn’t sleep. She got up slowly, and quietly exited the room. She walked aimless, rubbing at her tired eyes. She was almost at the end of the corridor when she heard a strange sound coming from one of the rooms. She wasn’t even sure to have ever been in that room at all, but she could still hear the faint sound of some sort of a machine. She tilted her head to the side, frowning at the orange light coming from under the doorway. Y/N slowly opened the door peeking inside. In the middle of the room, on top of a wooden table, it was what looked like a ham radio. She walked inside the room, closing the door behind herself.

She remembered her dad having one of those radios. He spent a lot of his free time teaching her how to use it. She thought it was something silly, but now that she was standing in front of it, she was glad to her dad. She set down in front of it, starting to slowly turn the knob. The loud crackle of the radio filled the room for a few seconds. She felt a little bit stupid at that moment. She wasn’t even sure if it would work, but she pushed the microphone’s button, nonetheless.

“Hello? Is anybody there?”

They had been back for a few hours now. They managed to get back with just a few scratches and so much exhaustion. Still, he couldn’t sleep. His brain couldn’t let him rest or maybe was his soul. So, he opted to make himself busy with food and movies. It worked until it didn’t anymore. The clock read 3 am when he gave up. He was slowly going back to his room, a half-empty bottle of beer in hand when he heard it.

“Hello?”

He froze at the sound of that voice. He must have been so tired to start imagining things. At least that was what he thought until he heard it again.

“Is anybody there?”

He turned around so fast that he felt dizzy for a minute. He moved along the corridor, following the voice until he found himself in front of a door, he barely knew existed, let alone knew what was behind it. He noticed the light coming from under the doorframe before ever so slowly he opened it. He could feel his heart beating a bit faster not knowing exactly what he was going to find. He looked around the four walls, feeling disappointed to find the room empty, except for the old dusty ham radio. He sighed, shaking his head slightly. Yeah, he needed to sleep. He turned around, ready to leave the radio and the room behind.

“If you’re there, push the button on the microphone so we can talk a bit.”

He heard that voice again coming out from the machine on the table. Dean’s hand closed tightly around the bottle of beer. His knuckles turned white.

“If you want, that is.”

He glanced back at the radio trying to figure out what was happening. It couldn’t have dreamt it, right? Maybe he was so exhausted that he fell asleep without even realizing it.

“Shit, this is so stupid.”

Her words made him smile. Dean headed back towards the table. One finger brushed the button of the microphone, before pushing it.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

She waited for an answer, nervously tapping with her fingertips on the wooden table ready to give up. What was she thinking? Like someone could answer back. She sighed, getting up from the chair when the croak of the radio stopped her in her tracks.

“Y/N?”

She looked at the machine. Confusion was written all over her face.

“Is that you?”

She set down again frowning. With all the voices she would expect to hear, he was the least expected.

“Uhm… Dean?”

She asked even though she would recognize that voice anywhere.

“Yeah, yeah. It’s… it’s me.”

“Well, this is weird.”

“No, shit.”

“I wasn’t expecting you, no offense.”

Dean quickly grabbed the chair behind him, sitting down. His eyes were glued to the radio. What the hell was happening? Maybe he was finally going crazy. Whatever it was he couldn’t find the strength to walk away from that room. Not now that he had heard her voice.

“I wasn’t expecting you, no offense.”

“None taken.”

He answered back, chuckling. He stared at the radio for a few seconds, debating on what to say to her. God, there were so many things that he wanted to tell her, but he ended up settling for something easy.

“I wasn’t expecting you either, but it’s nice to hear your voice.”

Dean could hear her laugh at his words. Damn, her laugh.

“It’s not like we haven’t spoken in so long, you dork.”

He frowned, taken aback by her answer. What was supposed to answer to that? He cleared his throat, trying to think of something to say when she beat him to it.

“I’m sorry if I wake you. I thought I was being quiet enough.”

Dean swallowed hard at her words. Something wasn’t adding up and he knew that he should have left and called Sam to try to figure out what was happening. He should have, yeah, but that was easier said than done.

“Are you still there?”

He sighed, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes before answering her.

“Yeah, I’m still here, sweetheart.”

“I thought I lost you there for a minute.”

A small smile graced his lips at her words.

“You’ll never lose me, Y/N.”

He had fallen silent for a minute there and she thought that the radio had stopped working. A sigh of relief left her lips when she heard his voice again.

“You’ll never lose me, Y/N.”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words. And still, some weird feeling at the pit of her stomach told her that there was something there in his voice, but she couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Whatever it was he would have told her when he was ready to, like he always did. Thus, she decided to change the subject.

“So, exactly where are you located right now?”

“Uhm… I’ve no idea. I didn’t even know that this room existed until two minutes ago.”

“The one at the end of the corridor?”

“That’s the one. I bet Sammy knew about it.”

She frowned at that, glancing around the four walls that were housing her at that moment.

“Are you sure that you’re there?”

“Yes, why?”

She could feel the hesitation in his voice. She bit on her bottom lip, before pushing the microphone’s button and answering him.

“Because is where I’m right now.”

That was when she started to question herself and her choices. What was she thinking? Was it even Dean the person she was talking with? The last time she saw him, he was sleeping. At first, she thought he was communicating with her from somewhere near her, but now? She needed to end that, whatever that was.

“Uhm… you know what? I think I should go now.”

She told him, ready to turn down the radio.

“Because is where I’m right now.”

Dean straightened himself on the chair the moment he heard her words. What the fuck? He glanced around, but sure as hell he was the only one in the room. Was it someone trying to fuck with him? He snapped out of his thoughts at her next words. He hastily pushed the button before pleading with her.

“No, wait. Please, wait.”

He wasn’t sure of a lot of things, except once: he wasn’t ready to let her go. He scratched at the back of his head, trying to find a good excuse to keep her there for a few more minutes until it came to him.

“So, it seems that we are both in the same room, right? But clearly, I’m the only one in here or else I could see you. The same goes for you?”

He waited for her answer, nervously shaking up and down his leg.

“That’s correct.”

He sighed in relief when he heard her response.

“Y/N, what year are you on?”

She glanced at the door at her side, ready to bolt out of there at any given moment.

“Y/N, what year are you on?”

She froze at that. Could it be? She debated for a while on what to do, when against her better judgment she decided to answer him. It was like she couldn’t quite walk away when it came to Dean. Damn, him.

“2018.”

“I’m in 2021.”

She raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

“That’s… how… what’s going on?”

“I don’t know. The only thing I know is that we are in the same place at the same time, but in the wrong year.”

She sighed, nodding her head fully aware that he couldn’t see her.

“So, you’re not my Dean.”

“I’m still your Dean, just with a few more bruises.”

She smiled at that, trying to picture him in the future. She had so many questions at that moment, but she didn’t know where to start so she opted for the logical one.

“Are you and Sam doing okay?”

“We’re good, saving the world one monster at the time.”

She giggled at his choice of words. She lowered her eyes after that, nervously playing with one lock of her hair. Among all the things she was curious about, there was one thing she wanted to know the most but, somehow, she was afraid to ask him.

“Y/N?”

Dean’s voice brought her back from her thoughts and she decided to take a risk. That man was still Dean. The same man with whom she was used to sharing her secrets, fears, joys.

“Are we… me and you… are we still together?”

Her heart started to beat so fast in her ribcage that she was afraid he would have spilled out at any given moment. There was a moment of silence and she started to regret her question.

“I love you like the first day and some more.”

Y/N smiled at his words. Ha was still her Dean, and yet he wasn’t. It was a subtle shade in his voice that gave it away. Someone else wouldn’t even have noticed, but she knew him like the back of her hand. That strange feeling at the pit of her stomach was suddenly back, making her smile falter. The way he spoke to her earlier; the way he pleaded her to stay; the way he deflected her last question.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gone, isn’t it?”

He forgot how easy was to talk to her, which made him miss her even more than it was possible. He also forgot how smart she was and how she could read him like an open book.

“I’m gone, isn’t it?”

That was all it took for the dam to break. Tears slid down his cheeks and he felt it: his heart broke all over again.

“It’s been three years now.”

He whispered slowly with misty eyes and a heavy heart.

“I always thought that it was going to be me the first one to go, mostly because I didn’t want to imagine a world without you in it.”

He nervously nibbed the inside of his cheek before having the courage to continue.

“Now I know how the world without you looks like: darker and less warm.”

Dean told her, his hand scrubbing at his face trying to get rid of those stubborn tears.

“Empty. The world without you feel empty.”

He knew that he shouldn’t have said all of that to her. The problem was that when he lost her, he lost her lover, best friend, and partner all at once. She was the one he relies on and without her there he was lost.

“Empty. The world without you feel empty.”

That was all it took for her heart to break. To break for him. She knew that soon or later her time would have come, she made peace with that. Sure, she hoped to have a little more time, but it was what it was. What she wasn’t ready for was the pain in Dean’s voice. If she could only take his pain away.

“I lose you enough time to know what it means, but Dean even if I’m not there by your side my love is.”

She felt the tears wetting her cheeks. Damn, if that wasn’t hard.

“My love for you will never die.”

Y/N whispered to him, trying to dry her stained cheeks. She had no idea of why that radio give them the chance to talk to each other, but she was starting to think that maybe that happened because Dean needed it. He needed her. At least it was what she liked to think. If their talk could make easy his existence, then she would have been happy. She couldn’t bear the idea of him suffering.

“I don’t want to be the reason behind your tears. I want you to think of me with a smile on your face. Can you do that for me?”

She hopefully asked him.

She always knew the right thing to say to him and Dean already knew that he couldn’t deny her anything. Not even a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll do that for you, but Y/N you have to promise me something.”

He told her nervously tapping with his fingers on his right knee.

“Promise me that three days from now…”

“No, Dean. No.”

She interrupted him mid-sentence, but that didn’t even surprise him.

“No, listen to me, please.”

He heard her sigh and that was all it took to spur him to keep going.

“Three days from now you’re going on a hunt with some old friend of yours. I know… I know that I can’t tell you to not go because I already tried that with my mom, remember? We both know that didn’t work; it didn’t bring her back. Just promise me you’ll wait for me to come back. I went to help Garth with a case. I was just three minutes away. Just give me three more minutes to say goodbye; to kiss you, please.”

He pleaded with her, holding his breath while waiting for her answer.

“Three more minutes.”

He sighed in relief at her words, but the moment was suddenly broken by the croak of the radio. Dean jumped back from his seat in surprise. The radio kept on making weird noises before the light went off and everything fell silent.

“Y/N?”

Dean hastily pushed at the button trying to make it work again.

“Sweetheart, you still there? Please, keep working. Come on.”

He tried a few more times with different buttons before giving up.

“Goddamnit!”

He yelled slamming his palms on the table. She was gone again. Dean let himself fall on the chair behind him. His eyes were full of tears. He thought he had run out of tears a while ago, and yet here he was mourning for the second time the better part of him. He leaned with the elbows on his knees, his fingertips running through his hair. Why is life had to be that fucked up? Why did he have to give up on the only good thing he had? Twice now.

Why?

He sniffled rubbing at his eyes hoping that would help him with the tears.

“Hello, Dean.”

A sudden voice booming through the room made him jump. Standing in front of him was a smiling Crowley. Dean frowned, not caring how he must have looked at that moment.

“Now is not the moment Crowley.”

“I would have expected for you to be more accommodating after my little gift.”

Crowley stated hands tacked in his pockets. Frowning, Dean got up slowly.

“That was you?”

Crowley smiled at that kind of pride of himself, eyebrow raised.

“You sick bastard…”

Dean barely whispered before launching himself towards the demon. Crowley effortlessly managed to avoid him.

“Really? After everything I have done for you?”

He told him a little disappointed, head tilted to the left. Dean slowly turned around, facing him again.

“For me? No one asked you anything. You had no right to do that!”

“A bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

The shorter man asked pacing along with the room. Dean took a deep breath, too close to snap at him. The hunter shook his head, a bitter smile on his lips.

“You know what? I’m not doing this. You had your fun, now get the fuck out of here.”

He was already at the door when Crowley’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“She’s back.”

Dean closed his eyes trying to control the rage that was starting to rise inside him. He was sure to be one step closer to ripping him apart, consequences were damned.

“What are you talking about?”

He asked without even turning around too afraid of what would happen if he did.

“A soul for a soul. Let’s just say that something came up and I manage to get a deal out of it.”

His words peaked at Dean’s interest and the hunter slowly turned around to face the demon.

“A deal?”

Crowley nodded in confirmation, staring at Dean’s confused expression.

“And you wasted a deal to bring her back. Why?”

“Despite what you might think, you weren’t the only one who missed her. Among all of you dumbass, she was my favorite. She was… she was always kind to me.”

He whispered with a fond smile on his face. Eyebrow raised, Dean stared at him shocked. He was ready to say something when Crowley pointed a finger in his direction shutting him up.

“Let this information slip out of this room and I will personally torture you to death.”

Dean quickly closed his mouth. He took a few steps back just as a precaution, glaring at the man in front of him. Who knew Crowley was such a softy?

“Then, what was all of that?”

“Oh, well, I did say that I made a deal but of course, there was a catch.”

“Of course.”

“She’ll only come back if you didn’t’ try to take a shortcut and warned her to not go on that hunt. You got me worried there for a minute, I have to tell you.”

“You son of a…”

Dean whispered ready to punch him in the face. Crowley chuckled at that, before taking a step back and half raising his hands. Against his better judgment, Dean loosened up his fist.

“How do I know that you’re not lying?”

“Go check it out.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s waiting in your room.”

Dean didn’t waste any more time, heading to the door to get out of that damn room and go back to his.

“A thank you would have been appreciated.”

“I’ve waited for three years, I won’t wait one more minute.”

Crowley dropped his arms in annoyance, rolling his eyes. Freaking Winchesters, he thought before disappearing. Dean all but ran along the corridor and stopped only when he finally reached his door. He took a deep breath trying to calm down his wild heart. One hand in the wooden and the other on the doorknob, too scared to open that door because of what it could find in there or rather don’t find.

“Please, please, please.”

Eyes closed, he prayed that she was there. Turning the knob to the side, he slowly opened the door. She was right there sitting on the edge of their bed. Her hands-on her knees, she looked up and their eyes meet. At that moment his breath caught in his throat. She got up as soon as her eyes were on his, a small smile on her lips. Dean moved on instinct and in a few strides he had her in his arms.

“This is all real?”

He whispered in her hair. She smiled against his chest, holding him a bit tighter.

“Yeah, it’s real.”

Dean then took a step back. His hands cradled her face, while his eyes kept looking at her feature to convince himself that she was there with him. They smiled at each other before his lips found their way to hers. The kiss tasted of something familiar and new at the same time.

It felt like coming home after a long time.

They stepped back a little just enough so they could breathe again. Their foreheads touching, his hands on her neck and hers around his wrists. She smiled at him, the same smile he watched on her face so many times before. He missed it like crazy. He missed her.

“You kept your promise.”

“Yeah, three more minutes just like you asked me to.”

And just like that, his world was less empty.

*

Forevers Tags:

@440mxs-wife @cosicas-cuquis @foxyjwls007 @morganaah

Supernatural Tags:

@flamencodiva @hobby27 @keep-beating-my-dear-heart @littlewhiterose @pastelpeaxch @snowlovespie

Dean/Jensen Tags:

@akshi8278 @awkward-and-indecisive @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @siospins2 @stitchintimefan @universallyraylangivens

#jays3kcelebration #frequency #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fan fiction #ham radio

[holylulusworld]

Heavy

This was written for @jay-and-dean​​​‘s 3k celebration.

My prompts were: I had Sam (3rd char) + Someone is hurt + Prompt #11 (“You said that 3 times already, I get it.”)

Summary: It’s Dean’s birthday and everything goes wrong. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Characters: Sam Winchester, an unnamed boy

Warnings: angst, language, bad luck, birthday blues, it’s Dean’s birthday, getting old, grumpy Dean, hurt Dean, fun, a hint of crack, written in Dean’s pov ;)

Words: 1,7 k

Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics​

 Dean’s PoV

“Son of a bitch,” I grunt, groaning a little too loud as I step out of the grocery store only to drop the bag full of my favorite sins. “No, not the bottle.”

Pathetic, I know. But I want to shed a tear for the wasted booze. It was my favorite and now, it lies abandoned on the sidewalk, broken like me.

It’s my birthday and I wanted to do something nice for myself. I bought pie, booze, beer, and the latest issue of Busty Asian Beauties. Damnit, now I got no money left and my booze is already gone.

My pie swims in a sea of beer and booze and, of course, my Asian beauties didn’t make it out alive. In other words, it's a usual day in my life.

“Fuck this,” I close my eyes, inhaling deeply. “One,” I grunt. “Two.” Fuck, this doesn’t work. “Three.” Whoever dares to even look at me the wrong way will feel my wrath. “Four,” Y/N said this will help me control my anger. “Five.” Yeah, it’s not working at all.

“I need to find something to kill,” I abandon my ruined bag full of goods and walk back toward my beloved car, empty-handed. Now I will spend my birthday alone at the bunker as my brother and Y/N decided it’s time to buy more ancient books. “I love books.”

Boy, I’m still pissed when I open the door to the driver’s seat. I bend down to throw my wallet onto the passenger seat only to hear something crack in my back. I grunt in pain, trying to straighten my back but it hurts so bad I can only crawl onto the seat.

Now I lie with my upper body over the seat while my ass and legs are still hanging out of the car. “Fuck’s sake. You fucking son of a bitch! Today out of all days you want to piss me off?”

“Dude, what happened?” someone snickers behind my back. I know that voice. It’s the annoying kid working at the post office in town. I hate him. He always looks at Y/N as if she’s his latest meal. Fucking creep.

“I love to hang over the seat,” I say, sarcastically. “What else do you want to know?”

“I can see the crack of your ass,” he giggles like a schoolgirl. “Dude…that’s so funny…”

“Fuck’s sake, call Y/N or my brother and tell them I got hurt!” I snarl in the boy's direction, hoping he’ll have enough sense of decency to call someone to help me. “Now!”

“Uh, Y/N is such a sexy minx,” I’d like to strangle the boy, but right now, I can barely move. “Lemme call her. I bet she will love to see me before the weekend. Maybe she’ll agree to go out with me.”

“Damnit, call her,” he steps closer to poke my ass with a stick, at least I hope it’s a stick. “What?”

“I don’t have her number. Can you give it to me?” I hate to give Y/N’s number to that boy, but I got no choice. Fucking life.

“Fine, it’s…” I wiggle on the seat, grunting in pain as the boy dials Y/N’s number. I only hope she won’t strangle me for ruining her shopping trip with Sam.

“She’ll be here in ten,” I sigh, relieved my brother and Y/N didn’t already leave the bunker. At least someone will come for my aid. “Damn, she will see your ass too. I bet she’ll take a picture.”

“I swear, if you take a picture, you are dead by the end of the day,” I threaten. “Y/N will never talk to you too. She will hate you for the rest of her life.”

“Fine, gramps. No pictures of your misery,” the boy chuckles, running off as I lie there on my seat, cursing my back.

“DEAN! Fuck, what happened?” I can hear Y/N’s panicked voice not ten minutes after the boy left my side. “Shit, where does it hurt?”

“My back,” I whine as Y/N moves her hands over my back, fingertips digging into my muscles. “I can’t get up, sweetheart.”

“Dude, what did you do?” the boy is back, and I already look for my gun to shoot him. “You’re really old, huh?”

“I’m forty-two,” I retort. “Forty is the new twenty.” Y/N moves her hands to my pants to tug at the fabric, helping to cover my ass.

“He’s turning forty-three today,” she tuts, hands now moving to my waistline. “Damn, you put a number on your back, huh?” Y/N muses, hands wandering back to my ass to feel me up. “He’s getting old.”

I yelp, hissing in pain seconds later as I moved a little too fast. “Sweetheart do not take advantage of me! And I’m not getting old. I’m like fine wine. Well-aged.”

“Well-aged?” the boy laughs behind my back and boy; do I hate that brat. “You’re an old man, not able to get up. I bet you can’t—”

“Don’t end that line,” Y/N grunts. “Thanks for calling, but now leave us alone, and lose my number. Fucking kids these days…”

“Kids?” I tilt my head to look at Y/N who seems to be lost in thoughts. “Y/N, what are you doing? I need to get back up.”

“Nah, you won’t move, Winchester. You’re hurt, and your back will get worse if you move. Now lie there and wait for Sam and Castiel to come around.”

“You called them too?” I bury my face in the leather seat, sighing deeply. “Great. Sammy won’t stop teasing me. He’ll laugh about his old brother.”

“Just wait here. Lie still and lemme handle this,” Y/N says as she moves her hands back to my ass, squeezing my cheeks. “Hmm…your ass is fine, I guess. Must be the back.”

“What happened?” Sam snorts as I lie on the seat, defeated by my own body. “Dude, you—” he laughs loudly, and I bet he will take a picture too.

“Stop laughing and help me, asshat,” Y/N mutters, pushing my brother toward my car. “Where’s Cas? I need him to heal Dean!”

“He’s unavailable or something. Angel business, ya know,” my brother says, and I fear that I’ll spend my birthday like that, unable to move. “We can handle this, Y/N. We only need to get him into the backseat.”

“Oh, yeah. And how do you want to get that tall guy onto the backseat, genius,” she undoubtedly has her hands on her hips and cocks her head. “I had the same idea, but he’s too heavy.”

“I’m not heavy,” I complain. “Do not call me heavy!” first they call me old and now I’m heavy too? I will kick their asses when I feel better. That’s a matter of fact!

“Aw, you’re cute when grumpy,” Y/N coos in my ear as she leans over me. I feel her hands wander to my waist, and I yelp again as she drags me out of the car. “Sam, his upper body!”

Right in time, my brother grasps for my shoulders, or I would’ve ended up face first in the dirt. “I hate both of you,” I grumble as they carry me toward the backseat of my car. “Hey, careful with the goods.”

“Shut up, you’re heavy,” Y/N pants as Sam tries to shove me onto the backseat. Y/N holds my legs in a tight grip as my brother simply shoves me onto the leather seat, snickering as I whine in pain. “Now, all is good. Heavy man landed on the seat.”

“You said that 3 times already, I get it,” Y/N rounds the car to carefully put her jacket under my head. “Stop saying I'm heavy,” I whine, hating she thinks I’m fat. “I’m not heavy.”

“Aw, you’re so cute,” at least she pecks my head before Sam and her try to get the rest of me into the car, making me cry out in pain as I end up in an odd position. “Fuck, almost done.” She pants while Sam and her work in sync to stuff me into the backseat. I don’t know how, but they made it.

“Done,” I hear my brother grunt. “Happy birthday. You’re getting old…jerk.”

“Bitch,” I snarl in his direction. “I swear, if you scratch my car hippie, you are done for…”

“There, all good now,” I smile up at Y/N, nodding as I feel like I’m walking on air. She gave me the good stuff. Thanks to the pills, my pain is gone.

She and Sam tugged me in bed, and now Y/N is hovering over me like a mother hen, she stuffs pillows behind my back, fluffing them before she covers me with a warm blanket.

“Happy birthday, my heavy hero,” I hope the face I give her is a bitchface, but I’m not sure right now. “You know, I like you are heavy. I can imagine it feels good to have your weight on top of me.

“Sonofabitch,” I slur, looking up at Y/N as she pecks my cheek. “You smell like pie,” I groan as Y/N holds a slice of pie in her hands. “Uh—it’s burning.”

“That’s a candle, Dean,” she laughs wholeheartedly. “Castiel will be back soon. Until then, I’ll nurse you back to life. We will start with eating the pie I baked for your birthday and later, you’ll get some greasy food. If you need more pain meds, I’m your girl.”

“You’ve got the good stuff, huh?,” I look at her, making Y/N chuckle. “What else do you have?” she smirks as I slur the words.

“We prepared a birthday party for you, Dean. I had hoped to celebrate your birthday with you,” she sits next to me to lean her head against my shoulder. “Blow it out and make a wish. But don’t tell me.”

I look at the pie, smirking as I got something dirty in my mind. Of course, I can’t move right now. But when I’m healthy again, I let Y/N feel my weight on top of her with pleasure.

“Dirty old man,” she whispers in my ear after I blow out the candle. I chuckle as Y/N seems to read my mind. “I wouldn’t mind, though. Just don’t hurt your back again while going at it…”

“Sonofabitch…!”

Tags in reblog.

#jays3kcelebration #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fanfic #Sam Winchester #dean winchester SPN #dean winchester fanfiction

[snowlovespie]

More Than Words

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Arthur Ketch(mentioned), Jody Mills(mentioned)

Summary: Sometimes, when you don't know how to say it, you let actions be your voice.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, implied sexy stuff, blood and gore (?) I don't know, let me know if I’m forgetting something.

Words count: 3.8k (Sorry *sigh* I-I can explain)

A/N: This was written for @jay-and-dean Jay’s 3k Celebration. Congratulations again Jay, you're simply amazing, and you really deserve all the love!!! I chose Sam as my third character, and my prompts were "Someone is naked" - “You said that 3 times already, I get it.” I hope you'll like it!! So, here's the thing. This is my first FanFic in 10 years (super long hiatus) and the very first one in English, so, please have mercy 😅 I'm not gonna lie, that was hard, and I thought several times "I'm insane or what?", but I consider this one my 'out-of-the-comfort-zone fiction', so it was really worth a try. A special thank you to the amazing @libre1rose8 for being my beta, and a costant and incredible support for my insecure a*s.

Please tell me what you think about it.

It was supposed to be an easy work, just an ordinary case of Shifters in a small town in South Dakota, and they planned to get it done in no more than two days, 3 at most. Get over there, take those fuckers out, go home. Easy and quick.

But in the hunting life, especially the Winchesters’, nothing has ever been easy and quick, so why should it have been an exception that time?

Two new hunts popped up in the same town, a Wraith' case, and cherry on top, Ghouls. And those suckers were the toughest ones.

Everything had required 3 more intense days of interrogations, research, lack of sleep and an inevitable increase in stress level.

3 hunts in a row, and to say it was a massacre is an understatement.

Heading to the Impala, to finally drive back to the motel, Dean checked that no one was seriously injured.

Sam reassured him that aside from a few bruises and a couple of scratches, he was fine "Extremely tired, but happy it's all over" he stated before getting into the car. Y/N though, didn't say a word, heavy breathing due to the adrenaline still pumping through her system.

But as soon as Dean approached Y/N, he couldn't help but notice her clothes were soaked in blood, so he reached for her hand, cocking his head to get her attention.

"Hey, are you okay?" his voice firm and full of concern.She snorted, biting her lips, trying to avoid his gaze.

Worried, Dean placed a finger under her chin, slightly lowering himself . "Hey, Y/N, look at me, are you hurt?" he asked, not missing how she looked everywhere but him.

"I-I'm fine" she said with a trembling voice, pulling her face away from his grip.

He shook his head, not convinced from her words. He knew her well enough by now to know when she was lying. "No, you’re not fine, you’re sure far from being fine, you're covered in blood, you’re shaking, an-" he tried, increasing a little his hold on her hand.

"Not my blood, ok? You happy? let's go now" she spat, finally looking at him straight in the face.

Dean flinched at her words, eyes widening in astonishment by her unexpected reaction. "Happy? What's that supposed to mean? What the hell are you talking about?" he tried once more, frowning in confusion.

"Forget it! I'm fine, now let's get the hell out of here" she released herself from his grip, stepping away from him.

He grabbed Y/N' arm, turning her to face him, preventing her from getting into the car “We're not leaving until you tell me what's wrong” he stated firmly.

Before she could argue back, Sam called them, his voice coming from the front seat, trying to catch their attention "Guys, are we going or what?”

Dean didn't even give a glance in his brother's direction, his eyes fixed on Y/N's "We're not done yet." he stated, finally loosening his grip.

She tugged her arm away from him "Yes, we are" she said, climbing into the back seat, slamming the door behind her.

Sam gave them a brief look as they both took their place into the car "You guys okay?" he asked, not missing the obvious tension between them.

"Yeah, I’m fine, peachy! What about you, Y/N?" Dean asked sarcastically, giving her a quick look through the rearview mirror as starting the car.

Y/N huffed, closing her eyes for a moment "Dean please, stop it. Don't go there" she warned him.

Sam frowned "Uhm, ok, could someone just tell me what's going on? What did I miss?" he asked.

"No clue, man, just ask her...and good luck!" Dean shrugged, shaking his head, looking at the road ahead.

Y/N sighed in exhaustion "You really want to talk about it? Fine, let's talk then." she said before Sam have time to say anything. “I told you something was wrong, but as always you go with your plan, not giving a damn shit on what others say.”

Dean scoffed in disbelief, "Oh, wow, are you even serious? So now it’s my fault if this hunt didn't go as expected?” hands tightening more and more on the steering wheel.

"Of course not, I’m not saying that, but I asked you to wait and don't go on with your martyr complex." she sighed, looking at him.

His eyebrows twitched into a frown "Wait? Wait for what? I saw a chance and I took it as I always do" he shrugged.

"A chance? A chance to die faster? Jesus, Dean, we were outnumbered and could’ve ended up really bad. You were reckless, and of course you just couldn't wait to use the new 'toy' Ketch lent us, without even know how to use it a-" she said, air quoting, trying to make a point.

Dean sighed, cutting her off "Oh my God, there she goes. I knew it. Still with that thing. You just can't drop it, huh, Y/N? "

"Guys, please, can we just- " Sam tried, seeing that the mood in the car was heating up, but they didn't even listened to him, completely ignoring his attempt.

"No, I can't, because you hurried in that damn house, using a strange gun without even know how it works. What if you'd been hurt? That thing could have blown up in your face. Do you even think about yourself once in a while, Dean?" she swallowed hard, only thinking about that possibility.

Dean’s eyes widened in disbelief "Geez! I swear, sometimes you’re so overdramatic. A strange gun? Really? C’mon Y/N, it's a fucking rifle, an awesome one I'd say, it blew those freaks heads off. We were caught off guard and that thing saved our asses, so what's the matter?”

"Guys, please stop!" Sam tried, hoping this time to stop them before things got worse.

Y/N shook her head in disbelief "An awesome one?!? Are you serious? A weapon is not a toy, especially a new one you don't know anything about and yo-" she tried to say, before Dean cut her off, roaring.

"Jesus Christ, you said that 3 times already, I get it! And before you say anything, NO, I had no idea that thing' impact would end in a ghoul shower. You may think I was thoughtless all you want, but I did what I had to do, and I won't apologize because all I could think of was getting this fucking hunt done and get our asses home safe and sound. We're fine and that's all that matter, so now stop making me feel like I don't know how to do my job." he shouted out.

"DEAN!" Sam scolded looking at his brother "Stop! Both of you! Please guys, we’re all exhausted, this hunt kicked us right in the ass. And Dean, Y/N was just worried, I was too. Everything went wrong, but” he sighed “The worst is passed and we're fine, so let's just try to relax now." Dean quickly glanced at his brother, clenching his jaw he brought his gaze back to the road, deciding it was best not to add more.

Y/N opened her mouth a couple of times, trying to say something, but tiredness and all those emotions she was overwhelmed with, kept her silent. Shifting on the seat a little, she passed a finger over the misted glass, fixing her eyes on the road. The sun had long set, the road barely brightened by the dim glow of the streetlights that lined it, which increased as they got closer to the downtown area. Sam's words echoed in her mind, and they were what kept her mind away from the worst, different scenarios.

As the time passed by, the silence inside the Impala became almost deafening.

When Dean dared to briefly look through the rearview mirror, he saw Y/N chewing her bottom lip, probably an attempt to hold back the tears that, no matter how much she tried, run down her cheeks. His heart ached at the sight.

He knew her long enough to know there was way more behind those tears. He knew she wasn't crying because of his words or a stupid weapon, and at the source of those tears there was another feeling. He knew what it was because he had experienced himself first. Fear.

He swallowed the big lump in his throat, hating to see her like that. Hating ever more having let the stress of the last few days take over his nerves.

Patting on Sam's shoulder, he pointed at his tapes box under the dash. It didn't take him long to find what he was looking for. He turned the radio on and as soon as the melody began to fill the silence, Y/Nbegan sniffing.

All the emotions she was trying to hold back were released, and a muffled sob came out of her.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw that Sam was about to say something, and stopped him with a hand. "No" he said, shaking his head.

Dean wanted to say something himself. Anything. Maybe put his hand on her knee, even for a brief moment, just to letting her know he was there. Or even stop the car in the middle of the road, reaching her into the back seat and holding her tightly in his arms, making her feel safe. But he didn't. Because it wasn't how she worked, so he did the one thing he knew she needed. He gave her time.

When they finally got to their motel room, Y/N couldn't wait another minute and turning around, she faced Dean, who was right behind her. "Dean, I'm sorry, I-I just-" she said with a trembling voice.

Not giving her time to finish the sentence, he pulled her into his arms.

"Dean, no, I have pieces of stuff I've never seen before, everywhere. I'm gross." she said, trying to push him away.

He smiled, hugging her tighter "I don't care, let's be gross together.”

As his arms wrapped her, the well- known feeling of warmth and protection that only Dean could make her feel, overwhelmed her.

"I'm sorry, I know I've been a pain in the ass in the past few days, but..." she squeezed him tightly, pulling up with her nose.

Dean rested his chin on top of her head, slowly running a hand up and down her back "Shh that’s okay sweetheart, I'm right here. I got you!”

"I'm so, so sorry I reacted like that, it's just-" she said without looking into his eyes, slowly shaking her head and swallowing the big lump in her throat "I know how hunting dynamic works, but when we were caught off guard I-"

Dean cupped her face, slightly lifting her chin "Hey, hey, shh look at me, pretty girl"

Y/N did as told, sniffing, her eyes still teary.

"There's she is, my beautiful girl" he gave her the sweetest of smiles, brushing some tears away from her face. "Now listen to me, I know why you reacted that way, I know you baby, and I get it! I was scared too, trust me, sweetheart. I really was. And you know what? I'm also pissed, I mean, this hunt has been a living hell. C’mon, this town turning into a freaks’ magnet just on these days? Just our luck!” he scoffed. “You were right, maybe I acted without thinking, but I just wanted to end it quickly and get home in time, because that’s not how I had planned spending our anniversary. But we're fine and that's all that matters." he sighed.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat and then start to pound so hard in her chest, she thought he could hear it. She smiled as new tears streamed down her face "Oh, Dean, I l-" she paused, swallowing "I thought with all the chaos of these last few days you-"

He leaned his forehead on hers, looking into her eyes "That I'd forgotten about it? Nah, no way! 3 years and counting"

Sam smiled, clearing his throat to get their attention “Uhm, I'll let you guys taking a shower or whatever, I'm gonna grab us dinner."

"The diner is a few minutes down the road, let's g-" said Dean, looking at his brother, pulling the car keys out of his pocket.

"No, no, no Dean, wait!" Sam stopped him "You’re both covered in blood and gore, I mean, you've bits of ghouls still hanging out of your hair."

Dean shrugged, removing a piece of something from Y/N's hair "We can use the baby wipes I've in the car" he said nonchalantly, but Y/N slapped his arm.

"Seriously guys, please just get in the shower, you smell like roadkill" Sam stated, crinkling his nose.

Rolling his eyes, Dean tossed him the keys, watching him leaving the room.

He turned to look at Y/N with a mischievous smile "Well, he's probably right" shrugging he lifted her up on his shoulder, lightly smacking her butt cheek, causing a small yelp from her.

She giggled holding onto his shirt "Dean, what the hell?". He smirked, heading to the bathroom.

Under the warm and steamy shower, they immediately felt relief flow through every fiber of their bodies, soothing their sore muscles, letting the water wash away all dirt and the tension.

"So tell me about our anniversary" said Y/N, her back pressed against his chest, a hand resting on his stubbled jaw.

Dean smiled, spreading soft kisses on her temple "I had planned to take you on a date, a winter drive-in night staged not too far from home" he explained "Burgers and fries, a couple of beers" his hands traveled to reach every inch of her wet, velvety skin, savoring every curve of that body he would've never ceased to cherish with his fingers, his mouth, his own soul, and with everything in him.

A soft moan escaped Y/N's lips as Dean's hands gently cupped her breasts, slowly circling his fingertips around her nipples. "What movie would've we watched?" she whispered, arching her back at the feeling.

"No idea, who cares? We were going to make out the whole time, anyway" he murmured, gently taking her earlobe between his teeth.

Y/N bit her lips, feeling his growing erection against her lower back "Sounds good, so romantic."

He slipped an arm around her waist, his big, warm hand, flat on her lower belly "Yeah? Do you like it? Just me and you, food, a movie, ending the night with me balls deep inside you for hours?"

Y/N couldn't help but giggle at his words “Aww yeah, like I said, so romantic. Such a poet my handsome man is."

“I know, right? You're pretty lucky, girl” he chuckled.

She turned to face him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her breasts pressed into his broad chest "Oh, I really am." she smiled hearing him humming. They kept losing themselves in each other's arms, sharing kisses, touches and every kind of attentions they needed, till they were satisfied... and till the water got cold.

"Finally, I thought you'd been kidnapped," Dean growled as Sam entered the room, an hour later, holding a plastic bag that his older brother was quick to snatch from his hand.

Dean placed the takeout bag on the nightstand, pulling the small white boxes out of it, frowning when he saw nothing but salad and healthy stuff in there. "Sam, there's only rabbit food here, I'm not eating this crap, what the hel-"

Lifting his head to look at his brother, he noticed that the door was open and Y/N was gone.

He was so focused on digging into the bag’ content, he didn't see Y/N smile at Sam, lightly squeezing his arm, gaining a little smirk in return, before leaving the room.

“Where is she?” he asked his brother, approaching the doorway. Sam shrugged, holding a smile "I don't know, man, why don't you go find out?" Dean looked at him, lifting his eyebrows, "What the fu-" "Dude, just go out there" his little brother interrupted him, smirking.

Shaking his head in confusion, Dean reached the Impala.

He frowned, noticing both of baby' front doors open, Y/N on the passenger seat, settling something.

"Babe, what are you doi-" he asked, getting closer.

He didn't quite end his sentence, what he saw gave him all the answer he needed.

On baby's front bench were boxes of food, two beers and a blanket, Y/N's laptop placed on the dashboard.

"Oh, sweetheart," he scratched the back of his head, sighing.

"I know it's not the same thing, but we won't give up our date" Y/N explained, smiling at him.

Dean shook his head, sitting into the car "That’s perfect. God, I lo-" he paused, swallowing "I-Iove it. I was supposed to be the one doing something special for you, on our day, but..."

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She cupped his face, gently rubbing his bone cheeks with her thumbs "Dean, you do special things for me every day, for three years now. You've given me a home, a family, you make me breakfast almost every day, never miss to put extra bacon on my plate, I mean, bacon!" Seeing him blush, she leaned, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead "You give me the late night rides, just me, you and baby, on those nights full of bad dreams or bad thoughts. You put on 'Patience' in the car earlier, just to make me feel better, and these are just some of the special things you do for me, and I-"

Not waiting any longer, Dean kissed her, softly at first and then deepening the kiss by pushing his tongue into her mouth, searching for hers. He let that kiss be the voice to all the love he felt for her, but couldn't put into words.

"Happy 3 years of us, sweetheart" he whispered, slowly breaking the kiss. He cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks growing warmer "So, what are we watching?"

"No idea, who cares? We're going to make out the whole time, anyway." she shrugged.

He chuckled, taking a huge bite of his own burger "Interesting. So, if we go with the original plan, that means we're going to end up with me bal-"

"No Dean, you're not banging me in the same room where Sam is sleeping" she stated chewing some fries.

He nodded, tilting his head to one side, pouting, "Oh, you'll change your mind”

They spent the night enjoying their special date, both aware in the life they led, that moments like that, were never to be taken for granted. But they were lucky after all, because from time to time they managed to have something normal. Nights with no monsters, no hunts, no deaths. Just the two of them talking, laughing... and making out.

It was early afternoon when they were ready to leave. Standing in the motel parking lot with their back resting against one side of the Impala, the boys were waiting for Y/N to join them, so they could finally go home.

"Yeah, we'll be there in about three hours. Are you sure it-" she smiled nodding "Ok, thanks. Bye!"

Hearing her voice, Dean turned, seeing her closing the door of the room that had hosted them the last few days. He watched her hang up the phone, putting it back in her pocket, her bag in her other hand, one eye barely closed because of the sunlight. When their gazes met, she gave him that smile. The one smile that caused his heart to beat erratically.

"Everything okay?" he leaned in, gently pecking her lips, taking her bag, putting it in the trunk.

"Yeah, that was Jody asking about the case. She said sorry, but work got her stuck, and she couldn't come over to backing us up. I told her about the hunt, about how rough it was, how exhausted we are aand…” she paused looking at them both.

Dean lightly shook his head, raising an eyebrow "And?" encouraging her to continue.

"And since Sioux Falls is on our way home, AND, since she wouldn't mind having some company” she shrugged ”Well, we're dining at Jody's"

Sam smiled softly, patting his brother's shoulder "Thanks Y/N, tonight we're finally eating something that is gonna tastes like real food"

"Oh, I also told her we're going to stop by to get two extra chickens and if she could make her special recipe" she added.

Dean' eyes sparkled with happiness at her words, and a smile brightened his entire face "Wait, chicken? Th-the one with beans and potatoes? That chicken?”

It was that priceless look on their faces, one of the things she loved most about them. They were always so excited and so grateful about the little things. The thought of how something like a homemade meal could make two warriors, two heroes, her heroes, happy as little kids ready to unwrap their presents on Christmas' day, would never cease to melt her heart.

“Yeah baby, that chicken” she said, giggling.

Dean cupped her face, crushing his lips to hers, smiling into the kiss “Sweetheart, you’re amazing, I l-“ he swallowed, giving her another quick kiss, stopping himself from saying more.

Y/N couldn't help but shiver. "You're welcome, babe" she hummed against his lips, feeling goosebumps covering her skin at his words, doing her best to keep her heart at bay.

Sam chuckled at his brother enthusiastic reaction. "Ok, let's go, then"

"Sammy could you..." Dean nodded towards the backseats. His little brother gave him a thumbs up "Got it"

Dean handed Baby's keys to Y/N, winking at her, heading to the passenger seat.

Y/N looked at the keys, then at him, lifting an eyebrow "W-what does it mean?"

"You drive," he winked at her.

Her eyes widened, jaw almost fell to the ground "I'm sorry, w-what?" she asked, sure of having misheard.

Dean opened the car door without getting in "Yes, you drive!" he smirked.

She looked at him, swallowing, her eyes shining with emotions. Dean never let anyone drive his beloved Impala, not even Sam was allowed to get behind the wheel.

And yet… To all the silent 'I love yous' he had ever said to her, that one was the loudest.

"Hey, Dean?" she called out before opening the car door. He looked up, waiting for her to speak.

She smiled, biting her lips " Me too!" "I didn't say anything!" he shook his head, looking at her in confusion.

"Yes, you did" she nodded, grinning. He blushed, clearing his throat as getting into the car.

Three years and still no I love you, well not verbally. For a lot of people, it might seem weird. Someone might even think there wasn't enough love there. Truth is, they loved each other so damn much. They just had other ways to say it. Because sometimes actions, even the simple ones, means more than words.

#jays3kcelebration #morethanwords #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean x reader #dean x yn #spn fanfic #spn one shot #supernatural fanfiction

[little-diable]

Third Time Lucky - Winchesters (smut)

Written for @jay-and-dean 3k celebration, congrats again, lovey. This was so much fun to write. The prompt is written in bold. A big thank you to @negans-lucille-tblr for inspiring this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is possessed by a demon, but before the Winchesters can save their friend, she spills a few secrets that push Dean to his limits.

Warnings: 18+, sex, voyeurism, possessed reader, possessed Dean, degrading, knife, cutting skin, smut with Dean, mentions the reader having sex with John and Sam in the past (no wincest)

Pairing: John, Sam, Dean x fem!reader (1.3k)

“Dean?” Her voice wavered, whispering his name as his eyes found Sam’s, raising his hand to silence his rambling brother. “Dean, I need help, I'm hurt.”

His body tensed, turning away from Sam and John, walking out of the bar with hurried steps. Dean felt his heart racing, threatening to jump out of his chest as worries began to clash upon him like a nightmare plaguing his dreams.

“What happened, sweetheart? We’ll be there in no time.” John and Sam wordlessly followed Dean outside, only parting ways as John unlocked his truck, waiting for the boys to hop in. But Dean was already on the road, running down the dark street towards their motel. He didn’t hear John calling his name, cursing his son for being this blinded by his crush on the woman. She struggled to form her words, whimpers of pain left her, chanting his name over and over again, as if he could take her pain away - just like that.

“I, just hurry, please.” (Y/n) had hung up the phone before Dean could say another word, eyes focused on the road ahead as he cursed, speeding through the town to reach their friend. She had been with them for years, following them around the states, finding comfort in shared beds and pressed together lips.

The motel came into view as another silent curse left Dean, blinded by his worries. John had parked the truck in front of their cabin, leaving the door open for Dean to step inside. He had expected his brother and father to help her, to take care of her, but both men were standing near the entrance, eyes not daring to let go of her frame.

“I ran three miles to get here and you’re just standing around, doing nothing?” He pushed past the two, kneeling in front of the bed (y/n) was sitting on. A smile tugged on her lips, hand reaching out to cup Dean’s cheek, pulling him closer to her.

“I’m here, sweetheart. What’s going on?” His worries kept him blindsided, not paying any attention to the laugh that rumbled through her, eyes turning black.

“Dean!” John’s voice boomed through the room, forcing his son to snap out of his trance, eyes finding her dark ones before he ripped himself free, taking a step back. (Y/n) kept on laughing, head thrown back as the demon inside her began to take control over her whole body, hand reaching for Dean’s wrist to pull him in once again.

“Oh, Dean. It’s so easy to toy with you. I wonder how long it will take me to break you.” Her other hand found its way to his stomach, wandering down to his crotch, trying to squeeze him through his jeans. The growl that rumbled through Dean forced John to step in, pushing his son aside with his eyes burning down on (y/n).

“We should get her out of here.” She singsang his name, eyes finding John’s darker ones, tongue running along her lip as she took in his tall frame.

“We both know that you want to fuck me, John. Don’t tell me you don’t remember Nashville.” Her teasing shut the hunter up, lips pressed together as he clenched his jaw. Dean and Sam could only stare, not understanding what she was talking about.

“I can still feel your cock buried inside my tight cunt, John. Don’t you want to fuck me again? Here’s your chance, let your boys watch.”

“You fucked her?” Dean’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, staring at his father with disappointment laced in his gaze. Of course - he should have known that John would grasp the chance to fuck the woman his son was in love with, proving to Dean that he would always have the upper hand, that he would always get what he wants.

“He did, just like lovely Sammy.” The “fuck” that left Sam coaxed a huff out of Dean, eyes finding his brother’s dilated pupils.

“So, you both fucked her?” Dean’s voice dripped with anger, eyes finding (y/n)’s chuckling frame. “It’s only fair that I get my shot now.” The moan that rumbled through (y/n) forced all eyes back to her, silently begging Dean to give in, to fuck her with Sam and John watching the two.

“On all fours.” Dean’s every step was guided by his cock, pulsing in his jeans, begging to be freed. John took a step away from Dean, plopping down on one of the chairs, forcing Sam to bite down the words that threatened to claw through him. Toying with a demon had never ended successfully, and would always end with more troubles.

“Look at you, a slut for all our cocks. I promise you, doll, at the end of the night you will only remember my name, demon or not.” The sound of Dean undoing his belt drowned out the silent groan that left Sam, all three men were too aroused to think straight, minds fogged up by the sight in front of them, her trembling frame and the black eyes that would haunt them all through the next days. He shrugged out of his shirt, undressing with shaking hands.

Dean reached for a condom, ripped it open with his teeth before he pushed her skirt up to her waist, groaning as his eyes found her naked ass. His hand met her behind, spanking her as another teasing word threatened to rumble through the possessed woman. Before he could push into her, his eyes flickered back to John and Sam, smirking at the two as he pounded into her, ripping her open.

Sam couldn’t help but touch himself through his trousers, too aroused to give a fuck about what was going on, lured in by the darkness. John was just as stiff, hands holding onto the armrests of his chair, not daring to let go. He’d lose his patience all too soon, eyes focused on his son and (y/n), listening to the sweetest moans that kept rumbling through her.

(Y/n) struggled to support her weight, black eyes rolling back into her head. Her walls kept clamping down on Dean’s cock, wanting to feel him closer, hoping that he’d stay buried inside of her till morning would come. Without another warning he pulled out of (y/n) and flipped her onto her back, pounding into her with his eyes staring into her dark ones.

Their orgasms were about to rock through them, coil tightening inside (y/n). Dean was too focused on her to pay attention to her wandering hands, not noticing how she grasped the knife she had placed beneath the covers, running the silvery blade up Dean’s chest.

Everything moved in slow motion, Sam wasn’t quick enough to reach Dean, stumbling as his body collided with John’s, who wanted to pull Dean off (y/n). But they were too slow, forced to watch how the blade cut his tattoo open, breaking the spell with a pained groan rumbling through the hunter.

“Fuck you, Dean Winchester.” And with her head thrown back, the demon left her body, slipping into Dean’s fleshcage as their orgasms rocked through them, shaking through Dean with a cry echoing through the night.

#dean winchester smut #jays3kcelebration #chi’s lemon #sam winchester imagine

[acklesterritory]

Hunters at night

Hey guys, after months I'm back with a new fanfic for @jay-and-dean 's 3k Celebration #jays3kcelebration . With:

Prompt: "Someone on horny" And "You said that 3 times already, I got it. 

Dean x Reader one shot

Summary: What would you do after a heavy hunt? Maybe tasting some pizza?

Word count: ~1200 words

Warning: Smut, Hand kink, unprotected sex. Fluff

I hope you like it. Feedbacks are appreciated as always

You were tired. The hunt was so damn heavy and complicated that after returning to the bunker, no one had any energy left to even talk. So you just cleaned up and waited in the kitchen til the pizza delivery came. Sam left to bring the pizza and you sat across Dean, who was already sipping on his beer. But what your eyes had catched this time weren't his lips, this time when he rubbed his eyes, you couldn't fight the need to watch his around nails, thick fingers, his glistening knuckles and the prominent veins.

"Veins" 

You could feel how the blood started to run wildly in yours.

"You know? I like that." Out of nowhere he said bluntly, taking a deep breath after stretching his muscles. And if you weren't already lost thinking about his hands all over your body, you would ask "What?".

However for your surprise and for the first ever time in the century, he didn't need any question, pressure or insistence to let the truth of his feeling out of his chest. He'd said it like it was something very normal. Like you two had never been creeps around eachother for the last 7 months.

"I like the smell of your shampoo."

"Uhum" You replied, not having any clue what he'd just said.

You were already high on your live sex dream. Couldn't stop the imagine of his fingers inside of you while your nipples started to get hard under your thin white crop top.

"It's soothing. Like … I don't know. You mostly smell like danger."

"Danger?" You mumbled, but not thinking about "How your smell could make a hunter like Dean Winchester feel in danger?!"

You just couldn't focus on anything but those fingers around the sweaty beer bottle.

"Yeah, but not in a bad way. You know? More like …"

"Dinner is here." Sam announced as he rushed in, carrying pizza boxes in his hands.

"Oh, yeah! Love me some pepperoni." Dean greeted him sweetly, like the child he actually was in his heart but used to mostly bury him under his serious Winchester face.

 "This smells like heaven!" Sam said, smelling on his slice, as soon as he put the box on the table and flip the lid.

"I was about to say the same thing, Sammy."

The smirk in his voice didn't help you. Not when out of nowhere his longing look shifted from the pizza to you. Actually it made every thing get worse. Now you have to uncomfortablly shifted in your seat, being terrified in case anyone could notice how your sex was already on fire!

"Hmmm, you know? Sometimes I wish I was a pizza man."

Sam rolled his eyes in response to his brother's comment, chewing on his pizza.

"No, you would never do that, Dean."

"Why not?" Dean asked, licking on his fingers with such a sloppy sound that made your knees go weak under the table.

"Cause …" Sam drank from his bottle. " … you would try all the pizzas before delivering them."

"Nah, at least not when the babysitter ordered one." He winked and you bit hard on your lip, preventing a whine from scaping your lips. 

This was not good. You stole your eyes. It was already so hard to think about anything but him … him and his charisma, or his capturing scent,his tempting mouth … his dirty mind … and his skilled fingers.

"Fingers"

Once more he licked on them and this time you had to press your tights against eachother cause now you could hear those sloppy voices not only with your ears but also with your sex! 

"Is something wrong?" Sammy's question shook you out of your head. You gave him a strange look, making him explain more:

"Why you don't eat? I thought you like pizza too …"

"I do." You stole your eyes, looking down at the food you always loved but now had no interest in.

"I just … I think I need a nap more." With that you stood up, focusing on contracting you muscles enough to support your weight now that your knees seemed almost melted under you with the sexy imaginations of Dean.

"Gosh …" 

This time you couldn't stopped yourself, not when Dean casually licked his lips, looking up at you.

"What?" He asked. A frown slightly forming on his face.

You thanked God that they couldn't read your mind. More specifically right now.

"I hate the sounds you make when you …" For a brief of moment your brain got blank with his eyes locking in yours in an awkward silent.

"… when you're eating something!" You completed your saying in a hurry, feeling a wave of red shade spreading on your cheeks and nose tip.

"Why?" He asked, first raising his brows in wonder, then narrowing his eyes at you.

"Like it matters"

He didn't hear your low voice and you didn't wait for him to ask again. Instead with a "goodnight boys" you turned on your heels to run to your personal shelter: room 32.

"Thank God."

Closing the door behind yourself, you took a shaky breath and closed your eyes to concentrate … to stop the images of Dean giving you what your thirsty body always wanted: 

His warm breath on your skin, his skilled tongue in your mouth and his thick digits inside of you.

"Gosh!"

Another shaky breath and this time you decided that maybe another quick cold shower could ease the situation up.but even when you stopped under the coldest possible flow for a few minutes, nothing had changed. Actually with every cold drops that would hit your sensitive skin, the pain got worse.

"Please!" You bit on your lip, terrified of the slightest possibility that the boys could hear your moans. And that was the reason you had to change the plan. You couldn't risk touching yourself there. The bathroom was too big and the bunker was too quite. Your voice could easily resonated in the night.

"God damn it!" 

You stepped out of bathroom and dried your skin. Then you wore the bathrobe Dean had bought for you after losing a bet. It was soft. And thick enough to warm your body.

"Just like Dean himself, right?" You asked yourself, already regretting wearing the robe. Cause now all you could think of was him again: the way his bare skin could feel against yours … the things he could do with those strong hands of him …

You sighed and lied on your bed, letting the towelling fabric tickle your breasts as you were taking deep breaths to calm yourself.

"Oh Dean."

You called him in another sigh, shutting your eyes to force the sleep in. Just as you were getting close to fall asleep, thr mattress deepened beside of you and then someone whispered in the room:

"Did you call me?"

As you opened your eyes in a sudden surprise, a hand appeared to push on your mouth, preventing you from making any loud voices.

"DEAN?!!"

You heard your own muffled voice in your head, looking up at the hunter who was bending on you.

"Sshhhh." He said, replacing his hand with his mouth on your lips as soon as you recognized him. Now the thin wall between dreams and reality was vanished and you couldn't understand if you were simply having a dream or …

"I thought you already had a shower, why you had another one again?"

He smiled. One of his hands in your hair, the other lightly tracing down on your skin, from your neck down to your chest.

"Dean!" His name fell like a prayer from your lips and you had to blink to beliece he was really there with you.

"Me, right? You had to shower again because of me?" He questioned, smirking, biting on the tip of his tongue.

"Hmm … looks like someone is horny." When his tracing hand reached to your breast under the robe, he skillfully pulled the garment away on his fingertips and looked down at your hardened nipple.

"Ahhh." You couldn't suppress your moans or stop your hips from jerking up to seek any attention from him anymore. He was there. He was too close and you just …

"It's okay. I got you." He reassured you, getting on the bed, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, making your body go delirious under his heated touch.

"Please!"

You had to cling to his shoulders to stop 

Yourself from falling apart as his hand find your core between you two.

"What's it, sweetheart? You like it when I touch you here?" He asked, still rocking the same proud smirk on his ridiculously sexy lips.

"Oh God!" Your threw your head back on the pillow as he pushed his index and middle fingers inside of you while his thumb was rubbing your clit in circles.

You whimpered, feeling the pleasurable flames spread through your body from where he was teasing you.

It took just a minute for your body to react, your back almost arched if it wasn't for his strong hand pushing you down.

"No!" He said, pulling his fingers out.

"Please!" You whined, gasping, looking down at see his handsome face. But he was holding his hand in your sight line, forming a victory sign with the fingers he just had inside of you. They were glistening.

"You see? I already have you dripping on my fingers." He said, putting them in his mouth, licking on your juice while looking back in your eyes

"Dear Goood!"

Your hips jerked up again and your tights started to shake so violatly that he had to hold them.

"I said no. You're gonna come on my cock, not on my fingers. I didn't even use my tongue yet."

You fisted the sheets, curving your toes in pain.

"Dean!" Your weak moan was so pleading that even if he would, Dean couldn't stop the pride and the joy you already made him feel. It was reflecting in his eyes.

"I'm here, Y/n. Just let me take care of you." He said and you heard the click sound his belt made when he threw it somewhere across the room.

 "Ahhhhh" Now you were unable to even form a comprehended word.  All you could think of was just him. Only him.

His hot mouth leaving marks on your neck, his strong arms locked around your waist, his bare chest against you breasts, his thick length sinking inside of you …

"Come!" He whispered the commend on your ear after biting on it. 

So you did! You always wondered how people could scream while having their climax? It never happened to you. Til that night … til you came like you had never did before. Your back arched and you felt how hard your throbbing walls were sucking on his length as he was speeding up the rhythm, working you through your orgasm.

"Son of a bitch! You're so damn hot." He said, sucking the air out of your lungs in another sensual kiss. His curious dominant tongue explored your mouth and made the loving torture get even worse. To the point as he withdrew and spreaded his come on your body, you were completely limp, unable to stop yourself from shaking in ecstasy.

"Y/n? … sweetheart? … are you ok?" He asked as soon as the peak of his climax passed, looking down at you a little worried.

"Not … done … please …"

"*please*? Oh, sweetheart … You said that 3 times, already …" He smirked, again with a pair of shiny eyes. Like he was the happiest human being on the earth. But when you whimpered, he had to stop looking down at you as like you were a galaxy or something! He whispered:

"I got it"

It was promising. Dean was always the man of his words. So he reached down again to massage your core, as his tongue was teasingly drawing circles around your nipple, his sticking up hairs brushing your skin, making your hormones shoot up again.

"I'm … so …"

You couldn't complete your warning, just as he bit on your nipple, you screamed again, this time so much louder that you were sure not just Sam but also every other living things within the two-mile radius of bunker could hear you. However you couldn't care less. Your hips jerked up while your vision was completely gone.

"Deeeaaaaannn"

That was intense and long. Longest pleasure that you've ever had during sex. And the most memorable one. Cause while you were almost out, he held you tight in his arms, whispering sweet words, kissing and worshiping you like … 

"You're my dream that's coming true!" He laughed at his own joke and you can hear the pure happiness in it.

"I love you." Although your low mindlessly confession faded in the night but Dean didn't miss it but you were already out before he could respond

"I love you too. With all I've got." He whispered on your sweaty face, then he pecked on your lips as your eyes flattered shut. After months you finally fell asleep in peace …

#spn dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x ofc #dean x you #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fic #jensen ackles #acklesterritory #deanwinchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #jays3kcelebration

[jay-and-dean]

Jay’s 3k Celebration

You guys, thank you SO MUCH !

Okay so not only 3k is freaking awesome, but it also happens to be a number I love, so I decided to celebrate with a writing challenge in its honor !

How does it work ?

1. If you are going to write a fic, you probably already have a pairing in mind (Dean x reader, Sam x Donna, Castiel x Garth… Whatever, go crazy). 

     But this is a celebration of 3. So I will now ask you to choose a side character, so there will be 3 people involved in your story. You can choose if your side character is important or a quick apparition, you can choose if he joins the pairing or joins the plot.

2.  In the second group of propositions, you will choose something happening to any of your 3 characters. It can be the center of the plot, but you can totally play with it and make it secondary too.

3. The third thing you have to pick is a prompt implying the number 3.

If you want me to chose randomly for you, it’s also possible !

Read the rules after the tag, and if you want to join, send me an ASK.

The rules

This is a followers celebration so it would be nice to follow me.

My blog is hate free so you can write for ships (as long as they are not against my other rules), make your story about LGBTQI+, create OFC of any kind, talk about racism or ableism problems all you want...

I will make the Masterlist for Dean’s birthday (what ? I really have to remind you of the day ?!) so it would be nice to submit your story before January 24 2022. Now of course, if you need more time, just send me a message.

Your fic can be from 300 words to 3000 (I’m not going to count of course, but around this would be nice). If you are not usually a writer, but want to try something short please try something even if it is a very short try, that could be so much fun.

Your fic can answer to other celebrations you join as long as the rules are compatible.

If your fic is above 500 words, please use a “keep reading” or I won’t reblog it.

There are things I’m not comfortable reading, so know I won’t reblog them : Non-con, underage of any kind, incest. For the rest you can involve dark subjects in your fic, even the subjects I talked about, if one of your characters has trauma or anything for example, I just won’t reblog it as smut or described.

Please use proper warnings.

Tag me in your story, and use the tag jays3kcelebration and if I didn’t reblog it after 3 days, in case tags didn’t work, please send me a message.

Have fun !

1.     First step : A third character

You can choose any supernatural character, of any season, you can choose any member of the cast. And in case you want to pick a character from any other fandom, have fun too !

I am not going to list them because I could forget some, and it is basically open to any character anyway.

2.    Second step : Someone is…

Someone is insecure @jawritter​

Someone is angry @deanwanddamons​

Someone is hurt @holylulusworld​

Someone is lonely

Someone is missing

Someone is an enemy @msmarvelouswinchester​

Someone is horny @acklesterritory​

Someone is gay

Someone is sad @awkward-and-indecisive​

Someone is naked @snowlovespie​

Someone is dead

Someone is amnesic @wonder-cole​

Someone is drunk @eevvvaa​

Someone is lost @anathewierdo​

Someone married

Someone is in the wrong body

Someone is possessed @little-diable​

Someone in the wrong year @smellingofpoetry​

Someone is enchanted @roonyxx​

Someone is pregnant @libre1rose8​ @deanwinchesterswitch​​

3. Third step : A Prompt with 3 

 “We are going to be 3 from now on.”

“Breath, count to 3, I’m not going anywhere.” @jawritter

 “Can you take 3 fingers ?” @eevvvaa

“I have waited for 3 years, I won’t wait one more minute.” @smellingofpoetry

 “There are 3 rules, listen carefully.”

 “I only have only 3 days left”

“I give you 3 minutes to explain.” @msmarvelouswinchester

“What am I going to do with 3 sex toys !”

“Wait… Why are there 3 of you ?” @anathewierdo

“I took 3 showers, the smell isn’t gone !” @roonyxx

 “You said that 3 times already, I get it.” @holylulusworld​ @acklesterritory @snowlovespie​

“I ran 3 miles to get here !” @little-diable​

“It’s been 3 years, get over it.” @wonder-cole

“3 of us against 30 of them, I like those odds.

“You seriously took 3 of them all by yourself ?”

“You know I’m a professional at this, I have done it 3 times already.”

“I am going to give you 3 orgasms in a row.”

“You left me alone for 3 hours, I improvised.” @libre1rose8 @awkward-and-indecisive

“I have nothing to offer, 3 dollars and a bad bottle of whiskey, nothing more.” @deanwinchesterswitch

“Fool me once, blah blah, fool me twice, not cool, fool me 3 times, am I fucking dumb ?” @deanwanddamons

You picked 3 ? You’re ready ! A little ASK HERE now.

Beautiful text divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics​ 

Forevers

@parinarain​ @mogaruke​ @masterof-agony​ @tftumblin​ @deans-baby-momma​ @roonyxx​ @holylulusworld​ @vicariouslythruspn​ @daryldixonandfrogs​ @sandlee44​ @donnaintx​ @akshi8278​ @magssteenkamp​ @neii3n​ @lyss-dw79​

@i-love-superhero​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @deanwanddamons​ @jawritter​ @peridottea91​ @chocolateheart​ @vicmc624​ @teresa-67​

@jessie-michael​ @doctor-hp-mcu @hawkerz12​ @mariaenchanted​ @hobby27​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @suramyaa @brilovesdeanwinchester​ @waywardsisterandpie @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @starryeyeseunbyul​ @kaitieskidmore1​ @krazykelly​ @foxyjwls007​ @anaelsbrunette​ @jensengirl83​

@flamencodiva @couldabeenamermaid @onethirstyunicorn @agalliasi @b-i-t-c-h-i-e @apple-piie-life @jc-winchester @lyarr24 @verytoadpapersoul @awkward-and-indecisive @mimaria420  @msmarvelouswinchester @iceythelostwinchester @libre1rose8 @waywardbaby @snowlovespie @eevvvaa​ @jensendreamland​

DEAN

@ophelialoveshandsomemen​​ @summonthequeen-13​​  @hollymac79​​ @deandreamernp​​ @hewhohesitates-disintegrates​​ @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart​​

@py-ivy​ @cockslut-padalecki​

#jays3kcelebration #milestone #jay and dean #thank you so much #writing challenge #supernatural

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Run to You {Master Post}

Summary: Disillusioned by the world around her, Kasey has chosen to live a life of solitude. Accused of a crime he didn't commit, Dean escapes custody. On the run from the law and out to prove his innocence, he stumbles headlong into Kasey's life. The fateful encounter sets them on a winding path of desire, heartbreak, and perhaps the most incredible love they've ever known. However, time and the law are not on their side.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Kasey Belmont (OFC)

Rating: Mature 18+ (due to later chapters) NSFW

Series Warnings: Angst; Fluff; Long lead up to smut; Smut (oodles); Language (galore); Flirty Dean; Intrigue; SPN canon typical violence and injuries; Heightened emotional stress. Each chapter will have its own warnings.

Betas: @princessmisery666; @wayward-and-worn

Author’s Notes: This is an AU. While there are several SPN characters mentioned, basically no one has the same connections as they did in the show, and Dean and Sam are not related.

Written for: @jay-and-dean -Jay’s 3K Celebration and @spnaubingo. Future chapters will include prompts from @spnquotebingo and @spndeanbingo.

Jay's Prompts: Third Character ~ Victor Henriksen; Someone is ~ pregnant; Quote with 3 ~ “I have nothing to offer, 3 dollars and a bad bottle of whiskey, nothing more.” It was also inspired by the movie Labor Day with a hint of The Fugitive thrown in for good measure.

SPNAUBingo Square Filled: Fugitive AU

**ETA - Updated title card and format 3/10/23**

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

#jays3kcelebration #spnaubingo #spnquotebingo #fugitive au #dean winchester #dean x ofc #au series #run to you masterpost #spndeanbingo

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Run To You ~ Chapter Ten

Chapter Summary: Kasey and Dean grow closer as they each come to a realization about their current feelings.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Kasey Belmont (OFC)

Warnings: Language; FLUFF; Dean’s internal monologue; A bit of angst, and self-analysis

Rating: Mature 18+ (due to later chapters) NSFW

Word Count: 6127

Series Master Post

Beta: @princessmisery666

Movie Reference/Quote: None

Author’s Notes: This is an AU. While there are several SPN characters mentioned, basically no one has the same connections as they did in the show, and Dean and Sam are not related.

Written for: @jay-and-dean -Jay’s 3K Celebration and @spnaubingo.

SPNAUBingo Square Filled: Fugitive AU

**ETA - Updated title card and format 3/14/23**

Kasey can't sleep, frustrated that she can’t dive in headfirst. Patience and time are not her friends. She’s limited in what she can do until the computer and documents that Sam will be sending are delivered.

Rolling to her side, she pulls a notepad and pen from the drawer of her nightstand before shifting up to lean back against the headboard. Chewing on the cap of the pen, between making notes, she finds her mind drifting to thoughts of Dean and the meltdown she had in front of him. It certainly wasn't a display of professionalism, and she hopes it won’t mar his opinion regarding her legal prowess. 

What the hell was that about anyway? He’s the one going through a traumatic experience. He doesn’t need someone who will get emotional at the drop of a hat. He needs someone strong, someone, who’s willing to stand up and fight for him.

The air around her suddenly seems oppressive. Tossing the pen and paper to the side, she slips from the bed to open her window. The cool breeze that flutters the curtains and whispers over her skin is refreshing after the sultry heat of the day. The night is clear, stars twinkling brightly in the midnight indigo sky. Still restless and now fully awake, Kasey decides to sit out on the porch for a while. She carefully avoids the squeaky floorboard near her door, not wanting to disturb Dean, whom she heard enter the bedroom below about an hour ago. 

She doesn’t need it for warmth, but she drags her favorite hand-stitched comforter onto the porch, wrapping it around her shoulders as she sits on the swing. It always makes her feel like her grandmother is hugging her, and she needs that right now. Kasey tucks a leg beneath her; the other dangles over the edge, toes pushing off the boards to set the swing in motion.

Staring out at the stars, she breathes deeply, silently seeking advice from the two most influential people in her life, finding comfort in her memories of them and the lessons they taught her. 

Eventually, her thoughts wander again to Dean. She can’t seem to escape him. Has it truly only been two and a half days since she last sat here, lazily enjoying the afternoon before Dean staggered out of the field? Mind shifting through the events of the past sixty-odd hours, she searches for the strand of thought that has been weaving itself through her subconscious. The one she hasn’t been able to find the end of yet. 

She’s been feeling like her life has jumped the rail and is careening out of control down the side of a cliff. She is so far away from the person she had been and even further from the person she wants to be, and not in a good way. 

Talking to Sam appeared to have unlocked the door to the memories and emotions she had buried deep inside her. But why now? It wasn’t like they had a heart-to-heart. She contacted him to call in a favor. A favor she was more than entitled to. So why had she become so unexpectedly emotional?  She was desperate to convince him to help her, to help Dean.

Sam’s right. There are experienced and capable lawyers locally who could handle this matter. Still, Sam is the only person she can truly trust with a case that is rapidly becoming a personal crusade. He had every right to caution her about the Fremont case. It had been at the forefront of her mind since she decided to take this on. She had turned that case into a crusade for a different reason, and an innocent man had been killed, leaving behind a wife and baby girl. 

Dean’s case is different, though. It doesn’t have anything to do with the mafia. He’s just a man mired in a bad situation, not unlike most of her previous clients. So why is this turning into more for her than simply correcting an injustice of the legal system? The obvious answer is Dean, but she senses there’s something else frustratingly out of her reach. Like a shadow in the peripheral of her eye that she can’t quite see—a harbinger.

It seems like everything that has happened the past couple of days has triggered a need to redirect her course. Precipitated her arrival at a proverbial crossroads, and this time, her gut tells her that no matter which direction is chosen, the path will profoundly affect her life. There will be no u-turns, no going back to the rut she had been stuck in the past two years.

Sam is her closest friend and has been for nearly half of her life. He’d always been the safety net at the bottom of the chaotic free fall of her existence until she finally crash-landed two years ago. It stands to reason that she would want him to know that she is finally coming to terms with the events of her past. However, it still doesn’t explain the wave of overwhelming emotion in that moment. 

Growling in frustration, she pushes off the seat, nearly tripping on the comforter as she begins to pace. Moments later, she flops back onto the swing, leaning back with both feet planted on the floor stopping the swing’s motion mid-sway. 

It had been fear—unmitigated, unequivocal fear—that Sam wouldn’t help, of the changes that are hitting hard and fast, the worry that they might not win, concern that Dean may spend the rest of his life in jail, or worse. Kasey’s no stranger to dread and apprehension, but this is different. It isn’t just about herself; it concerns Dean too.

But what of Dean? He is, after all, a stranger. What does he have to do with your emotional upheaval? 

While technically not her client, she had agreed to assist with his case through Sam; decided to be a part of his defense team. So, in a roundabout way, he is her client. This is a business arrangement, nothing more. So why doesn’t it feel like one? The problem is that she’s crossed lines that should never have been crossed and done more for him than she would for any client. 

Reflecting on the past two days, she knows she felt him out there. Felt him before she’d laid eyes on him, like an itch under her skin, the ghost of a shiver down her spine, a premonition. Could he honestly be the catalyst? Or is he just the mirror being held up to show her what she already knew?

Closing her eyes, she seeks out the thread she knows will lead her to the answer. Kasey replays the conversation with Sam in her mind. The joking, the nervousness about telling him, the anticipation of his response, reaching for Dean, needing that connection and seeking the comfort she knew she would find in his touch.

If Dean had asked her why she sought solace from him, she wouldn’t have been able to put it into words, not then, but everything has been so unexacting with him. The amiable communication, the casual flirting, and the natural way they accommodate each other. All of it so new and yet so familiar. That same sense of familiarity had been reflected back to her tonight when he didn’t let go, silently offering support in the soft smile he’d given her.

Holy shit!

She bolts upright, eyes opening wide in surprise at seeing a shooting star. While not all that uncommon, especially in the dark, clear skies away from the city, it’s been a long time since she’s seen one. Maybe Dean has a point. Perhaps the universe is trying to tell them something. They were both running away from a life that had betrayed them. Maybe now they have something… someone to run to. 

The hard thump of her heart against her rib cage makes her gasp. In that single beat, like the click of a gear aligning itself, the reason for the wild swing in her emotions falls into place. In two short days, this man—a man she should have dismissed upon his arrival—has managed to strip away layers of pain and loneliness and effortlessly slotted himself into her small world. Not only has he given her a new sense of purpose, but he’s also managed to reawaken feelings that she had locked down in the deepest part of her heart.

No. It’s not possible. I don’t know anything about him. Except that he’s charming, intelligent, considerate, funny, can cook, and a fucking male model. Stop! He’s a convicted felon accused of murdering his wife. What if I can’t prove his innocence? What if he really did commit the crime? What if he actually is like Bundy, and now I’m trapped in this scenario with him?

Kasey vehemently shakes her head. “No. The universe can’t possibly be that cruel. You wouldn’t let that happen, would you, Grandpa?” she breathes into the inky stillness around her. 

Yes, there’s an aura of danger about Dean, exuberant energy simmering just below the skin, like a barely contained live wire. Yet, there’s a stillness that comes from being comfortable in his own skin, from accepting who he is and not being ashamed to show his truth. As much as she hates to admit it, she knew who he was and what he’d be to her the moment she laid eyes on him. It was like she’d known him for decades.  

Whether providence or happenstance, what they are about to face will undoubtedly be a challenge, but she’s been overcoming challenges her entire life, even making a living out of it. This one may take every tear, drop of sweat, and ounce of blood, but she will gladly give it all to ensure that Dean is safe and, above all, free. 

A sense of calm swells inside her with that awareness. Her heart and soul are more at peace than they have ever been. Pulling the quilt tighter around her, she snuggles further into the swing’s cushions and sends a silent thank you to her grandparents.  

Dean can’t sleep, frustrated that there doesn’t seem to be anything he can do to help Kasey. He’s never had much patience, and time is definitely not on his side. He hopes that whatever that guy, Sam, is sending gets here quickly. 

Dean rolls to his back and stares up at the ceiling, trying to focus on the details of his defense and where things went wrong, but it doesn’t take long before his thoughts drift to Kasey. She was happy, excited about her friend taking on the case but had been in tears by the end of the call. 

She had run out of the room without an explanation as soon as she could. He had tried to decipher what the last part of their conversation had meant. Kasey had told Sam that it wasn’t ‘just for him’, which Dean took to suggest there was something in it for her. He’s pretty sure it has something to do with why she ran away from her previous life, but it could be anything. It’s not like he knows that much about her. There’s part of herself she keeps hidden, he can sense it, but he doesn’t take it personally. She keeps those parts locked away, even from herself.  

He had wanted to go after her, find out why she was so upset, and offer her a shoulder or an ear, but it didn’t feel right to intrude. After all, he’s only known her for two and a half days. Why would she want comfort from him? Kasey had reached out for him, though. She had clung to his hand as she gave an impassioned speech defending him to her friend. 

At first, he thought it was to reassure him, but the way she had held onto him and looked into his eyes, searching, like she was trying to read his soul while pleading with the man on the other end of the line to help her help a man she doesn’t even know, made him think that she needed the reassurance just as badly. He had clutched her hand tighter, hoping to convey the gratitude he felt while trying to keep his feelings in check. The way she had spoken about him made his chest tighten around his wildly beating heart; he knew his eyes had misted over more than once while he listened to her.

His emotions have been all over the place, and he wonders if she thinks he’s nothing but a sniveling idiot. It’s just that he’s never had anyone stand up for him like she did or made him feel like his life matters, that he deserves a place in this god-awful unforgiving world. She gave that to him the second she allowed him to step onto her porch. He also knows that finally having a chance to slow down has partially been the catalyst for the emotional meltdowns. After being bottled up for so long, all the pent-up rage, stress, and fear are finding a release.

Dean throws off his covers, the air in the room suddenly stifling. Slipping on a t-shirt and the pajama pants Kasey had loaned him, he makes his way out of the room as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake her.

He’d memorized which floorboards needed to be fixed while she was out doing chores earlier and deftly avoids them as he quietly slips outside, careful not to let the screen door slam shut behind him. Standing in the middle of the porch, he inhales a lungful of the refreshing night air, letting it out slowly.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Dean nearly jumps out of his skin. Placing a hand on his chest, he turns toward the sound of her voice, growling, “Fucking, hell! You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Kasey laughs and scoots to the side, patting the space beside her. “Come on, take a load off.”

Dean shuffles over, mindful not to jostle the seat too much as he sits. She tucks her other leg, letting him take over the rhythmic sway of the suspended bench. The silence stretches between them, but it’s not uncomfortable. If anything, it’s soothing, a relief to his overloaded senses. Quieting his mind still seems to be an issue, though, so after a few minutes, he clears his throat. “Uh, listen, I, uh, I’m usually not such a wuss. I’m sorry for all the blubbering I’ve been doing.”

“It’s okay; I get it.” She leans away from him, and he hears a match strike. Seconds later, a dim golden glow from a lantern on the table illuminates the area around them. Shaking out the match, she places it in a small tin on the floor. “Honestly, I’d be worried if you weren’t showing any emotion.”

Dean remains silent, staring out into the night. She lays a hand on his thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze. Without thought, he rests a hand on top of hers, fingers slipping around her palm.

“You’ve had to deal with the death of your wife, a very public and very stressful trial, being locked up in a jail cell, and on the run for about two weeks now. I doubt you’ve had the chance to process any emotions other than anger and fear. Your body is just finally catching up.” 

Dean briefly tightens his hold on her, relieved that she understands. It all seems so effortless and straightforward with her. It’s like she’s known him for years, can sense what he needs, what he’s feeling, without him saying a word. He’s never seen the altruism and decency that she radiates, never had that empathy directed at him, and he worries that he may taint her in some way—that all the ugliness of his life will bleed into hers and ravage the beauty and integrity he sees in her.  

Kasey shifts, dropping her feet to the floor. “If anyone should apologize, it should be me. That comment about you allegedly only killing one person was indelicate.”

“Nah, it was funny. Just caught me off-guard.” Smiling, he admits, “Honestly, if the situation were reversed, I would have said the same thing.”

“Yeah, well,” she smiles back, “it still wasn’t the most appropriate thing to say, and I’m sorry. I didn't mean any disrespect.”

For the sake of his sanity and to ward off another potential bout of waterworks at how thoughtful she is, he changes the subject. “There are so many stars. Little pinholes of light.”

“It’s beautiful. Isn’t it? Did you know this is one of the darkest parts of the country? Every year the state holds a Star Party in a reservoir a few hundred miles from here. People come from all over to gaze at the stars each night, maybe even catch a meteor shower.”

Kasey turns her hand, entwining their fingers as she stands. “Come on; I want to show you something.” Kicking the edge of the quilt out of her way, she leans back, trying to pull him out of the seat when he doesn’t immediately stand. “You’re going to love it. Let’s go.”

“Alright, alright. Want me to grab the lantern?”

“Nope,” she gently yanks on his arm, bare feet tapping the floor, “just come on.”

Leaning over, he picks up a corner of the blanket and then stands. “If we’re going to go trolling around in the dark, I don’t want you to break your neck.” 

The night swallows them as they step onto the yard. The grass is soft and cool. The slender blades slip between his toes and tickle the soles of his feet. It’s been a long time since he’s walked around barefoot, and he looks down, trying to make out the shape of his toes as he wiggles them. It’s so dark, though, and his eyes haven’t adjusted yet. He hesitates, wondering if he should go back for the small light, despite her denial to bring it. 

As if reading his mind, she pulls on his hand. “Just stay close. I’ll make sure you don’t fall.”

What if I already have?

He chuckles and places the hand holding the comforter on her shoulder, following close as she guides him to the rear yard. She doesn’t let go of him until they are a few feet from the house, shrugging out of her makeshift cape and spreading it over the ground with his help. If it were up to him, he’d never let go. 

“See, I told you I’d keep you safe. She smiles up at him as she sinks onto the soft cotton, beckoning him to join her. “Get down here.”

Kasey lies back as he takes a seat next to her. Eyes more accustomed to the darkness, he swallows thickly, watching as she does a full-body stretch, arms above her head, back arching. “Ahh, this feels good,” she sighs as she settles into the quilt, hands resting on her stomach, fingers entwined. “I haven’t done this in ages.”

Two days.

It’s only been two days, he reminds himself. How can he be such a goner for her already? He wonders if it’s a form of Stockholm Syndrome, quickly dismissing the thought because, one, it’s only been two days, and B he’s not Kasey’s captive, at least not in that definition. Still, he thinks he may very well be on his way to becoming a captive of her heart. 

Stop it! The two of you are not soulmates or some bullshit like that. You don’t even believe in soulmates.

“Dean, are you okay?”

The stroke of her fingers along his forearm startles him, and he shifts uncomfortably beside her, glad for the lack of light because thoughts about soulmates aren’t the only ones he’s having. The pads of her fingers are so soft, but her grip is firm and confident, and he would love to feel it around his dick. 

What the hell? Reel it in! You’re either being a pathetic basket case or a horny douchebag. Pick a side already?

He clears his throat, trying not to choke in the process. “Uh, yeah. Just thinking that I haven’t thanked you for calling your lawyer friend for help. I guess, uhm, I’m a little nervous about it too.” He hears the weakness in his voice and groans inwardly.

Way to go, dude. So much for keeping those emotions in check.

Kasey turns onto her side, leaning on her arm, and her other hand comes to rest on his knee with a gentle squeeze. “You’ve thanked me enough, Dean. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think it was the right thing to do or thought I couldn’t help. I also wouldn’t have called Sam if I wasn’t confident in his expertise in law and ability to be discreet.” Lying back down, she pronounces. “No more talk about your case. Lie down and look up.”

Dean chuckles and does as instructed, stretching out next to her and placing an arm behind his head. The sky above them is stunning. It’s like one of the pictures he’s seen on EarthSky or some other astronomy website. “Wow!” Her soft laugh makes him snap his gaping mouth closed. “I’ve never seen the Milky Way this… clearly. It’s awesome.”

“Do you see the Summer Triangle?” 

“No.”

“That’s Deneb in Cygnus,” she states, pointing directly above her. “And that’s,” she leans into him, pointing to his right, her warm breath fanning his cheek, “Vega in Lyra, and there,” her finger now points in the direction of their feet, “is Altair in Aquila.”

When she lies back, her shoulder presses against his, their arms resting side by side, and like they are in some damn chick flick, he reaches for her hand. There’s not a second of hesitation before she slips her fingers between his, their palms pressed together. His pulse skitters and he crosses his ankles, thankful that the pajama bottoms fit loosely around him. Even with excitement coursing through him at her nearness, a calmness settles into his bones, and his body relaxes, his mind finally quieting, letting him concentrate on just being close to her.

“I used to do this all the time when I was a kid and when I first moved back. It always helped to ease the tension and anxiety.” Her thumb skims along his index finger, her voice becoming a whisper, “I couldn’t do this in the city. There was always too much going on. Always too bright.”

Dean taps the fingers of his free hand on his stomach, trying to push back the thought of how he wants to bring her hand up and kiss each knuckle. “I used to drive when I needed to think or blow off some steam,” he says, ignoring how easy it would be to turn his head and kiss her temple before resting their entwined hands on his chest. “I’d hit the open road until I found a secluded spot I could pull off in, then I’d lay on the hood of my car and just stare up at the sky for hours.” Though he doesn’t turn to kiss her, he can’t stop, doesn’t want to stop, his thumb from brushing over the back of her hand.

“Sounds like heaven.”

She sighs, and he wonders if it’s a consequence of imagining the scene he’d told her about or because she’s as content as he is just by being next to her. Kasey’s not the only one that’s good at reading people, and he’d be willing to bet that it’s a little of both. He hopes it’s a little of both. She hasn’t stopped touching him since he sat beside her on the porch. Though he has enough common sense not to make the first move because there’s no way he’s going to take a chance on being proven wrong and fuck everything up. So he tells himself to be satisfied with the feeling of her silky skin beneath the calloused pad of his thumb.

“Yeah. I miss my Baby.”

“You have a baby?” She sharply turns her head to look at him, shock and confusion evident in her voice. “You didn’t tell me that? What’s their name? What happened to them?”

He laughs and squeezes her hand in appeasement. “Baby is, was my car, a ‘67 Impala. She was my pride and joy.” He sighs wistfully, “I’ll probably never see her again.” There’s a little more edge to his voice now. “It kills me to think that someone else is driving her, hands caressing the leather of her steering wheel, running over her sleek black metal. I just hope whoever has her takes care of her the way she deserves.” 

“Didn’t you have anyone that could keep her for you?”

“For a while, yeah.” He huffs a breath, recalling how quickly he had lost everything. “On the advice of my attorney, I signed everything over to my business partner, Benny, before the trial so that I wouldn’t lose everything in case the worst happened.” He chuckles snidely. “Well, as you know, the worst happened. Benny kept the doors of the business open as long as he could, but with my conviction, we lost a lot of clients and didn’t gain any new ones. He finally had to sell everything to help pay my legal fees and cover the business loan. He held onto Baby as long as he could, even mortgaging his home before finally selling her.” 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I understand that feeling.” 

She brings their hands up to rest on her stomach, covering them with her other hand, and he sucks in a breath as his pulse jumps, feeling her bare skin against his arm below the hem of her shirt.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I were ever forced to get rid of my truck.” 

“It looks like a pretty sweet ride.” He counts to ten in his head, trying to calm his raging heart. “How long have you had it?”

Kasey pulls her hands from his as she sits up, and he grips the blanket between them to prevent himself from reaching for her.

Really? So now I’m a clingy sap?

“It was my grandpa’s. He taught me how to drive in that truck when I was only twelve. I could barely reach the pedals. I hadn’t gotten my growth spurt yet.” She laughs, lightly slapping her thighs. “Poor guy was practically eating his knees in the passenger seat.” Briefly glancing up at the sky, her voice softens, “I could never get rid of her.”

Dean sits up, thankful for something more familiar and less pervy to focus on, and excitedly asks, “I’d love to get a better look at her. You know what a classic she is, right?”

“Hell, yeah. It’s especially tough to find a turquoise one nowadays.”

Dean can’t believe it. Of course, she knows about classic vehicles. She also seems to have at least a working knowledge of their mechanical systems from the animated story she tells him about helping her grandfather with repairs. Just another reason to love her.

Love her? Shit. Fuck. Nooo. This isn’t love. It’s just a connection. Just two people making a connection over a common interest. A human connection that both of us have been lacking, nothing more. A connection that I’ve never felt with anyone before, not even while I was married. 

Son of a bitch. There’s no way that I can love her. It’s only been two fucking days! Okay, technically, two and a half. I have to be losing my goddamn mind. It’s the stress. It has to be the stress and overwhelming relief. Yeah, that’s it, just relief and gratitude for what she’s doing for me. 

Kasey’s voice cuts through his existential crisis when she mentions the Impala. He tries to catch up, not wanting her to know that he missed most of what she had said. “I’m sorry, did you say you have an Impala, too?”

“Yeah, it’s in the rear of the garage. I bought it a couple of months ago at a classic car show that Bobby and Ellen dragged me to.” She laughs. “I have no idea why I bought it. I thought it was one of the display vehicles and kept going back to admire it. When it went up on the auction block, I knew I had to have it.” The corners of her eyes crinkle as she smiles wide. “It’s not very practical; it uses a lot of gas. But you don’t leave a car like that just sitting around, so I’ve driven it into town a few times. It’s in excellent condition; whoever owned it before took great care of it. There wasn’t a lot of history on it. The auction house had purchased it, so I don’t know how many owners it had or what repairs may have been done. It needs a tune-up before I take it out again, though.”

“What year and color is the car?” Dean suddenly feels like he has spidey-sense, his entire body electrified. 

“Black, and it’s a ‘67. Oh.” Kasey’s palm slaps against his chest, disbelief coating her next words. “No… it couldn’t possibly be… could it?”

“Benny never told me who he sold it to. I didn’t want to know.” He fists his hands into the blanket; there’s no possible way Kasey could be in possession of his beloved car. Yet, “You know, it would be freaky as hell if you bought my car, but considering everything else…” His voice trails off as he tries to tamp down the hope bubbling in his gut.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” She jumps to her feet, then tugs at the edge of the quilt, trying to get him to move. “Come on, Winchester. Don’t you want to know?”

“Hell, yeah.” Grabbing the comforter and bundling it under his arm as he stands, he extends a shaky hand to her. As soon as Kasey places her hand in his, they take off running.

Dean waits impatiently on the porch while she dips inside to get the keys. It only takes her a few seconds but feels like an eternity. He still can’t wrap his head around the possibility that his Baby, the car he’d spent most of his life driving, even living in for a time, might be here, just a few yards away. He’s still desperately trying to keep hope at bay. It’s unfathomable that he would be gifted this much luck in such a short time span. Then again, he’s owed some luck.

Light floods the yard between the house and garage just as the screen door slams open, making him jolt. He doesn’t have time for any other reaction as she flies past him, jumping from the top step to the grass and then sprinting toward the barn, yelling over her shoulder, “Let’s go, slowpoke.”

Dean laughs loud. He can’t contain it. If it weren’t for the stitches in his side, he would have followed her lead and foregone the steps by jumping over the railing. Instead, he takes the small set of stairs two at a time and catches up to her in a few quick strides. 

Seconds later, Kasey unlocks the small side door, flipping on the light as she steps into the barn. He hesitates just outside the door, preparing himself for the disappointment he’s sure to find.

“Dean, come on.” The excitement in her voice fades away on the last word as she looks up at him. “Hey, listen,” her fingers wrap around his upper arms, “even if it’s not your, Baby, it’s still a pretty cool car. So come take a look.” She slides her hands down his arms until she holds both of his hands in her grasp, tugging him forward as she steps backward into the building.

Once he crosses the threshold, she drops a hand and turns to lead him toward the back of the garage. The familiar shape of a car beneath a tarp comes into view. When they’re about a foot away, she lets go of his other hand and steps up next to the vehicle. Kasey fists the material in both hands, ready to yank it off the car.

“Wait!” 

“What? Why?” Her voice sounds incredulous, but she ceases pulling on the cloth.

His hands fist at his sides, and he inhales deeply. He’s never been this nervous about anything in his life. He shouldn’t be, it’s probably not even his car, but his gut is churning, his emotions spinning again, and for a brief moment, he’s not sure if he does want to know. 

As inexplicable as the past couple of days have been, it would be over-the-top weird that this is his car. He hopes that it’s his, he could use the win right now, but on the other hand, he recognizes it would be pushing his luck, tempting fate. It would be way over his quota of good fortune to have found Baby and Kasey because he has never been favored enough to have everything he wants. The universe will find a way to take one or both of them from him.

Seriously?! What the hell is wrong with me? Kasey doesn't belong to me.

Her laugh echoing through the room stops the spiral.

“It’s like ripping a band-aid off. Besides, the suspense is killing me.” With that, she pulls the cover away with a flourish. 

Before the last corner of fabric flutters to the ground, he knows. Knows without even looking at the VIN that it’s her. It’s his car.

“Hey, sweetheart, did you miss me?” He reaches out a hand and lightly runs his fingers over the dark, cool metal in awe. Elation and foreboding swirl in his stomach, threatening to choke him. He glances at the dash through the windshield to verify what he already knows, then closes his eyes, inhaling deeply to try and calm the emotional wave rising through him.

“Well?” 

She sounds frantic, and when he turns to face her, she’s rubbing her hands together, bouncing on her toes.

“It’s mine.” he breathes, the edges of his vision blackening, tunneling his vision until there is nothing but her.

Kasey squeals, clapping her hands and dancing in place. Nothing could have stopped him. With one long stride, he stands toe to toe with her, hands cupping her face, lips pressed to hers.

It’s rough and messy, urgent and hungry. He feels her stiffen as soon as he touches her, relaxing when he brushes his thumbs over the apples of her cheeks, flattening her hands against his chest. His heart threatens to break through his ribs with its thundering beat, but he doesn’t care if she feels it. Her lips are supple and moist, just like he’d imagined. She smells like the fresh evening breeze and tastes like sin. If he never had the opportunity to kiss anyone else ever again, he wouldn’t care. Every kiss pales in comparison, and before he was married, he’d had more than his fair share of kisses.

Slipping a hand into her hair, the other rests on the curve of her shoulder. Dean swallows down the warmth of her sigh, filling his lungs with the sweetness of her breath, as her fingers walk a trail up his chest, nails scraping at the skin of his nape, thumb caressing the pulse point in his neck.

He swears he can feel the reaction of every last cell in his body—skin prickling, tiny hairs standing on end, nerve endings igniting with sparks, the blood coursing through his veins. Like in a slapstick movie when they flash from some poor dope having a heart attack to an image of the blood pumping wildly through his heart before it explodes.  

Kasey presses up on her toes, mouth falling open as he licks along her bottom lip, slender fingers press into his skin, grip tightening, pulling him closer. It’s breathtaking and frightening. The slide of her tongue against his has a dizzying effect, but as she gasps into his mouth, he realizes that it may partly be due to a lack of oxygen, which they both seem to desperately need. 

He breaks the kiss but not the connection, pressing his forehead to hers, sharing the air between them with each pant. Dark amber eyes meet his as she sucks in quick breaths, and his heart sinks the second reality comes crashing in on him. He can’t speak, can’t look away, can’t let go, so Kasey moves first.

“Dean.” 

She leans back, hands sliding down his body, and he reaches up, gripping her hands and caging them to his chest. “Don’t.”

Previous // Next

Love Me Some Pie taglist: @akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 // @deanwanddamons // @flamencodiva // @idreamofplaid // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt // @michellethetvaddict // @mvdeanw // @shawnie74 // @siospins2 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix

@muchamusedaboutnothing

#jays3kcelebration #spnaubingo #fugitive au #dean x ofc #au series #run to you chapter ten

[deanwinchesterswitch]

Run To You ~ Chapter Two

Chapter Summary: Dean’s injury takes its toll, and Kasey has to make a decision about the handsome stranger.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Kasey Belmont (OFC)

Warnings: A bit of angst, a little bit of fluff, language, mention of injury

Rating: Mature 18+ (due to later chapters) NSFW

Word Count: 1978

Beta: @princessmisery666

Author’s Notes: This is an AU. While there are several SPN characters mentioned, basically no one has the same connections as they did in the show, and Dean and Sam are not related.

Series Master Post

Written for: @jay-and-dean -Jay’s 3K Celebration and @spnaubingo.

Jay’s Prompts: Third Character ~ Victor Henriksen; Someone is ~ pregnant; Quote with 3 ~ “I have nothing to offer, 3 dollars and a bad bottle of whiskey, nothing more.” It was also inspired by the movie Labor Day with a hint of The Fugitive thrown in for good measure.

SPNAUBingo Square Filled: Fugitive AU

**ETA - Updated title card and format 3/12/23**

Kasey narrows her eyes, trying to see through the rows of green, when suddenly, the soft sway of the golden tassels is violently disrupted as a man bursts through the crop and staggers across the lawn, falling to a knee.

Her peaceful bubble of solitude now shattered, Kasey sends the porch swing thudding into the wall behind her when she quickly stands to grab her grandfather’s old Winchester 44-40 that’s lying on the small bench across from the swing and ammo from the case next to it.

She loads the weapon as she moves to the top of the steps and cautiously watches as the man pulls himself up and surveys the area. When his eyes land on her and the shotgun at her side, they widen in surprise, and he raises a hand in a show of surrender, the other clutching his side.

“Who are you?” she shouts, raising the gun when he steps forward.

“P-please,” he begs, “I just n- need something to drink.”

“Who the hell are you?” She cocks the rifle's lever as he continues to move forward and yells at him to stop, adding, “I don’t want to shoot you.”

Her eyes go wide, surprised when he croaks out a laugh. “Good, 'cause I don’t want you to either.”

Quickly regaining her composure, Kasey huffs, “That doesn’t mean I won’t. Now tell me who you are and why you’re here.”

The stranger stops at the bottom step, both hands now raised, green eyes nervous and imploring. “De- “ His voice sounds strained; there’s a rasp to it like he hasn’t used it in a while. He clears his throat before speaking again. “John. John Bonham”

“Like the drummer from Led Zeppelin?” She notes the furrow of his brow and the flash of shock in his eyes at her recognition of who John Bonham is, but his features quickly smooth to a blank slate.

“What can I say,” he shrugs. “My parents were huge fans.”

With a tilt of her head, she scrutinizes his entire appearance and immediately takes a step back to put more distance between them, pointing the muzzle of the gun at the bright red stain spreading on the side of his dirty white t-shirt. “What happened to you?”

He looks down at his shirt and then back to her with something now akin to fear in his eyes. “Car accident.”

“Where?” Kasey arches an eyebrow, remaining guarded but relaxes her stance a bit at the thought that more people could be out there suffering. “Anyone else involved or hurt?”

“No, just me.” His eyes stay locked with hers. “I swerved to miss some kind of animal and ended up in a ditch. I fell trying to get out of the car and landed on an old post or something buried in the ground.” He gestures toward his injury. “My phone got smashed in the process. I couldn’t call for help, so I started walking.”

“How’d you end up in my corn, John?” She had caught the change in his diction when he gave her his name, well, that name. The purse of his lips and the almost imperceptible shift of his eyes when he said it hadn’t sat well with her either.

“The sun got to be too much, so I thought it would offer some shade, but then I got disoriented, and now, well…,” he lifts his brows with a quirky grin and shrugs, “I’m here.”

“Humpf.” A vague flash of memory of the gossip-mongering Redman sisters talking about a manhunt this morning kicks her pulse up a notch. She had only caught a few words wanting to quickly take her leave from the coffee shop before they roped her into a lengthy conversation. Now she wishes she had paid more attention, wondering if this could be the man in question. “Tell me where you crashed, and I can call the Sheriff’s office, have them come meet you.”

Kasey’s ability to read people was fundamental to her old life, and she had honed that skill into an art form. While no longer essential for her current day-to-day routine, it is still a valuable talent, and thankfully she hasn’t lost her aptitude for it. Not for one second does she believe anything he’s telling her, but even though her gut says he’s lying, no hint of deceit shows on his face. The fact that he’s staring down the barrel of her gun, almost with deference, is impressive, too.

“Listen, I just- “ He rubs a hand across the back of his neck and teeters in place with the movement, eyes shifting from her to the side of the porch. “May I?” He points to the pitcher of iced tea and looks at her hopefully. “Then I swear, I will leave.”

Kasey’s not sure if she has much of an option. While she is very proficient with the rifle, she has never shot a human being and isn’t all that confident she can. Besides, the man has at least six inches on her and looks to weigh at least a good 50 pounds more than her, most of it solid muscle. With those legs, he could probably reach her in a couple of quick strides. Injury aside, he could easily overpower her.

Apparently sensing her hesitation, he places a foot on the bottom step. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Isn’t that what all serial killers say?” she huffs, keeping her eyes trained on him, willing her tense muscles not to show any weakness as she adjusts her hold on the rifle.

He takes a step up and nods. “Yeah. Yeah, I suppose they do.” Dragging a hand down his face, he practically begs, “All I’m asking for is a drink, and then I’ll be on my way,” and takes another cautious step up.

The silent standoff continues for a couple of moments before she nods, keeping the gun leveled at his chest as she moves out of the way. He takes the last two steps in one leap, those long legs swiftly carrying him to his destination.

Foregoing the glass, he lifts the half-full pitcher to his chafed pink lips and downs the contents in nearly one gulp, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

Mesmerized, Kasey follows his hulking form, every twist, and stretch of his muscles, the fact that he is stunningly gorgeous despite his battered and disheveled state not going unnoticed.

Bundy was a looker, too, you idiot, and he lured his victims by pretending to need help.

Quickly wiping a sweaty palm on the side of her denim shorts, she retightens her grip on the rifle and firms up her stance. She's devising potential escape plans when he scoops an ice cube from the glass and rubs it over the back of his neck. Her stomach does a little flip, eyes trailing the path of a random drop of water that slips beneath the collar of his shirt, mimicking her thoughts veering to the gutter as she imagines what it would taste like to lick it from his sun-kissed skin.

What the hell?

She looks away and clears her throat. There’s a loud thud, and her eyes snap back to where the tall, handsome stranger is standing, only to have to drop her gaze and find him passed out on the floor.

A distant rumble of thunder startles her, and she looks out at the unexpected storm rolling in from the west. The same direction from which her unwanted guest had come.

Kasey lowers the gun and carefully watches for any movement. After a couple of minutes, she takes a few hesitant steps, stopping short when the wood planks creak beneath her feet. When there’s not even a twitch of movement from him, she slowly crosses the remaining distance between them

Standing over him, she stares at the massive form laid out on the hardwood. Just to be sure, she points the gun at his shoulder and firmly shoves a well-muscled thigh with her foot. The thick appendage barely moves against the assault. Convinced that he is well and truly out cold, she takes a moment to let her eyes roam his frame.

He’s a mess, hair sticking up every which way, and the damp, dingy cotton is stretched tight over broad shoulders and bulging arms. Torn, frayed denim dotted with dirt and stains covers the long, sturdy legs she’d already been admiring. Umber streaks cover his arms and face where the sweat failed to wash the dirt from his skin, along with several small scrapes and a couple of bruises.

“Well, fuck!” As much as she doesn’t want this stranger in her home, she can’t leave him out here in the storm. Especially since his wound appears to be bleeding more profusely, the red patch on his shirt growing in diameter, and drops of crimson now staining her porch.

Another closer clap of thunder reminds her of the urgency to take some kind of action. The sky is rapidly darkening, and the tiny hairs on Kasey’s skin bristle with the electricity now infusing the air around them. “What the hell did you bring with you?”

Her mind races, trying to decide how she is going to get him inside. She’s strong, but he’s a big guy. She scans the area around her, and when her eyes land on the equipment barn, she knows what she needs to do.

One more glance at his prone form lets her know he’s still passed out and will not be any help in getting himself safely inside. She throws her hands up with a grunt of annoyance. “Why the hell did I get elected to keep the attractive serial killer from dying?”

Leaning the gun against the wall just inside the front door, she sprints out to the barn to get what she needs. By the time she gets back to the porch, the wind has picked up, the precipitation in the air carried on the current, shrouding everything in a mist of dampness. She places the shop creeper against the railing to keep it from shifting and then crouches next to his sprawling frame, wedging her arms beneath his upper body. As she lifts him, she turns her head away in disgust. “Whoa, you stink!”

Kasey takes a cleansing breath, then breathing through her mouth, she shuffles along on her knees, rolling him toward the makeshift gurney. “Damn, you’re a brute,” she huffs with exertion as she finally gets his body up on the low dolly.

Leaving the wanna-be John Bonham lying on the creeper, she quickly secures the swing, gathers the glassware and her book, and takes them inside before returning to get him. Easing herself down to sit on the now-soaked floorboards, Kasey unceremoniously wedges her legs between his. Pressing the bottom of her feet against the edge of the creeper, she shoves it toward the open doorway. Once it’s in motion, she kneels as quickly as possible and continues to roll it into the house.

Slamming the door behind her, she leaves him in the foyer to rush around the home and shut the windows against the torrent of rain that the surprise storm has now unleashed.

After closing up the house, Kasey returns to stare down at the man lying at her feet. Squatting beside him, she brushes a lock of hair out of his face, “What the hell am I going to do with you?”

Now that they are in an enclosed space, the smell is even more pungent, and she pinches her nostrils together as she stands, the other hand waving at the air around them. “Maybe I should have left you out in the rain,” she snorts, placing her hands on her hips.

Catching sight of the blood pooling on her floor, she turns toward the bathroom. “Guess I need to at least take care of that.”

Previous // Next

Love Me Some Pie taglist: @akshi8278 // @asgoodasdancingqueen // @calaofnoldor // @compresshischest09 @deanwanddamons // @flamencodiva // @idreamofplaid // @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @michellethetvaddict // @mvdeanw // @shawnie74 // @siospins2 // @thinkinghardhardlythinking // @thoughts-and-funnies // @waynes-multiverse // @wayward-and-worn // @waywardbaby // @weepingwillowphoenix

@muchamusedaboutnothing

#jays3kcelebration #spnaubingo #fugitive au #dean x ofc #au series #run to you chapter two