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deanstead · 2 years

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Mechanic Next Door

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader

Requested: yes, by anon

Summary: After Dean meets Y/N on her first day in town, he can’t stop himself from paying attention and worrying about her.

Word Count: 1,220

Warnings: mentions of chronic pain

A/N: Here's a Dean AU as requested! I took way too long to write this, but I hope it's okay, just some cute fluff which was definitely therapeutic to write. Enjoy!

You took a breath as you pulled up at the side of the street. The logistics of moving alone were stressful, but putting that together with starting things up in a new town, among people you didn’t know added a whole new level of uncertainty to everything.

Especially in a town like this one, you thought, as you watched people greet each other along the street. You were going to stick out like a sore thumb in a small town like this one where everyone seemed to know everyone.

But you’d promised yourself a fresh start and when it came to moving on, there was nothing like moving to a new place. So you took a deep breath before you climbed out of your car, trying to ignore the gentle ache in your back and heading to the boot for your boxes.

You didn’t have a lot of things so you’d decided against paying exorbitant movers’ fees and opted to bring your stuff in your car. Except you’d forgotten that you’d had people to help you load things, but no one here to help you unload.

Just as you’d almost finished convinced yourself that you could do this, a voice reached you.

“Hey, need some help?”

You turned behind you, looking back into bright green eyes, tinged with what looked like cheeky playfulness and he even had a smile that made the corners of your lips tip up into a smile as well.

Normally, you’d politely decline but he seemed decent enough and truth be told the ache in your back told you that you’d only be able to carry half these boxes up by yourself today. So instead, you gave him a polite smile. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Sure, happy to help. I’m Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.” He introduced himself, glancing behind him at a mechanic store just opposite your building. “That’s mine.”

You smiled. “I’m Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Dean helped you with most of your stuff, helping you to finish what might have taken you at least two days to bring up by yourself. You usually took a while to warm up to people but Dean had a warmth that you couldn’t explain as he made small talk amongst the heavy lifting.

“Thanks for your help.” You said, as Dean brought up the last of your stuff to your door. You opened your mouth to say something more but let it fall closed again because you didn’t really know how to express exactly how thankful you were to a stranger you’d just met.

Dean seemed to get it though and he smiled. “Anytime.” He handed you a business card. “If you need anything.”

You smiled, glancing down at the card.

Dean looked a little embarassed when you looked up again. “My brother did these up for me.” He shrugged. “So thought I might as well give them out.”

You laughed. “Thanks, Dean. I owe you one.”

Dean nodded, “I better get back down.”

You smiled and nodded. You were about to close the door when Dean turned and you paused.

“Oh, and Y/N? Welcome to the neighborhood.”

You smiled and as you closed the door, you felt for the first time since you’d decided to move that this was a good idea.

Dean pulled himself out from under the car he’d been working on, his eyes flicking up to the building across the street. Truth be told, Dean had been looking out for you, hoping to run into you again but it was the third day since you’d moved in and, nothing.

He’d talked himself out of going to check on you the day before since he didn’t want to seem like he was stalking you, but now he was starting to get a little concerned. He was pretty sure he’d have seen you if you’d left your building.

“Guys, I’m going to be out for a while.” He called to his other mechanic, who nodded and flashed a thumbs up at him.

Dean had already knocked on your door when he started second guessing himself, especially when there didn’t seem to be any response.

“Don’t you dare knock again.” Dean growled in a low voice at himself, just as he heard the sound of shuffling feet and the door opened.

“Hey, I just wanted to check in on…” Dean’s voice trailed off as his eyes raked across your face that was white as a sheet. “You okay?”

You gave him a small smile and were just about to tell him you were fine as the burning pain hit your back again, this time traveling down your legs and you felt your knees buckle.

“Woah!” Dean reached forward instinctively, catching you around your waist.

You felt a wave of embarrassment which was dented by another wave of pain.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, at the same time that Dean did. He slipped his arm away from you the moment he felt you were steady on your feet but then glanced at you again.

“May I?” He asked, reaching only halfway out for your arm.

You smiled and nodded, stepping back to let him in. Dean guided you back towards your couch, heading for the kitchen to get you a glass of water like this wasn’t a stranger’s house.

“I’m fine, it’s chronic. I’ll be fine in a few days. This happens sometimes.”

Dean glanced up. “You didn’t… you overdid it that day, didn’t you?”

You didn’t answer him.

“You should have told me. I’d have made sure you didn’t touch any boxes.” Dean said quietly.

You looked up, a small smile playing on your lips. “What, you mean my own boxes that I decided to be a hero with?”

Dean let out a smile, before his eyes caught the card he’d given you that day still sitting on the table. “I gave you this for a reason. This here is my personal number." He tapped the part of the card that had his mobile number printed. "Call me if you need something, alright? Anything.”

That’s how it somehow began - Dean started dropping off food over the next few days. Sometimes he just left quietly, other times he’d knock to make sure everything was okay. Even after the pain dulled enough for you to function as you normally did, Dean would offer to carry your groceries up for you while you laughed and told him not to treat you like a child.

But it felt kind of good having someone looking in on you and trying to take care of you.

“Dean, I’m fine.” You said, although you kept the smile in your voice so he’d know you weren’t offended.

Dean smiled. “Okay enough for a coffee?”

You glanced up at him. “Dean Winchester, are you asking me out?”

Dean looked embarrassed, but it was the way he tried to hide it that had started growing on you. “I’ll even dress up, if you want.”

You grinned. “No need.” You paused as Dean tried to hide the disappointment on his face. “I’d love to have coffee with Dean. Just Dean. No dress up.”

Dean flicked up his eyes to meet you with the widest smile you’d seen on him thus far and you smiled back at him. Things were definitely looking up.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

#resa.fics #resanoona request #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester oneshot #mechanic!dean #dean winchester au #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n

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denim-devil · 1 year

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Can’t stop thinking about Mechanic!Dean in that damn boiler suit- LIKE SIR

#male reader #x male reader #supernatural #dean winchester #mechanic!dean #smut #fluff #dean winchester x male reader

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deancaspinefest · 1 year

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when the stars align

Author: TwinOne! | Artist: lotrspnfangirl Posting on Wednesday March 22

Camping was something Castiel’s family loved for different reasons. Amelia loved to cook over an open fire, Jimmy enjoyed hikes the most, his niece Claire preferred riding her bicycle, and his son Jack always asked for stories while stargazing. The plan was simple. Drive to the lake, spend some time with his family, eat some good food, sleep under the stars and then drive back in time for work on Monday morning. It was the perfect plan for a perfect weekend. Then his truck broke down.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

“How’s it going with the search for a mechanic?” Amelia asked when she saw him walk her way. “None of the ones I’ve called are willing to help in any way and Triple A does not have an available tow in this area.” Cas sat on the chair next to her with a groan. “Did you call everyone in the area?” “I did.” “No luck?” “No,” he said dejectedly. “But I left some messages. There’s still hope that someone will call me back, right?” “At 5 pm on a Saturday?” With another groan and a mumbled ‘you’re right’ he opened the Triple A app again, the eta message had changed to unavailable at the moment. “At this rate, I’m going to be stuck here all week.” “Don’t exaggerate.” He looked back at her, she grinned. “At least until Monday or Tuesday.” “Ames! I don’t know if you realize the seriousness of this situation right now.” She offered him a glass of lemonade which he grabbed with an exasperated sigh. “Listen to me, Cassie. If no one can help you by tomorrow. We can squeeze into our car and drive back together. We might have to leave a few things behind, but everything is replaceable.” “What about Balthazar, I can’t leave him behind.” “Your attachment to that truck has always been a mystery to me.” she said. “I’m sure he’ll be fine if we let someone know you left him here.” “But–” His phone ringing interrupted him. He stared at the screen and said, “Someone is calling back.” Amelia quickly took his empty glass. “Well, what are you waiting for? Answer it!” He nodded and answered the call. “Hello?” “This is Dean, calling from Winchester Garage.” Cas looked at Amelia and smiled, he could hear machines in the background and other voices talking. “Hello Dean.” “I heard the message you left and thought to call back.” “Thank you! I really appreciate you calling back.” “Let me guess, no one else has?” “No.” Cas’ whiny answer caused Dean to laugh on the other end. “Well, what can I do for you on this fine Saturday afternoon?”

[continue reading on Ao3 on Wednesday March 22]

#Destiel Fic #Destiel Art #Destiel Fanworks #DeanCas Fic #DeanCas Art #DeanCas Fanworks #Pinefest Previews #2023 Dean/Cas Pinefest #Author: TwinOne!(Carla)#Artist: lotrspnfangirl #Single Parent Castiel #Mechanic!Dean #Camping AU

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lastcallatrockysbar · 2 years

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Kudos on the fit, wardrobe crew...

#10x05 #dean #mechanic!dean #deanedits #dean love club #sweaty greasy gloriously sexy man #that grease on his ear is making me crazy

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wayward-dreamer · 2 years

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Leave It All Behind

Dean’s Lessons Part 4

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word count: 1,736

Summary: Selected chapters from Life’s Lessons told from Dean’s POV. Scenes that you didn’t get his perspective on, or scenes that you didn’t see… now you can. This part takes place after the events of chapter 9 of Life’s Lessons, the Thanksgiving chapter.

Warnings: Slight angst, brief fight, that’s about it.

A/N: I know, it’s been a while. I’m really hoping to get back in the swing of things with the LL saga, and I just really hope people have stuck around for it and continue to, but I completely understand if y’all don’t want to. This part was a lot of fun to write, and something I was hoping to include in LL but it just didn’t fit properly, so here you go. As always, happy reading and enjoy! :) beta’d by my darling @evergreencowboy.

Life’s Lessons Saga Masterlist

Dean jolted awake as his alarm blared loudly, fumbling to turn it off. He glanced to his side, seeing Y/N shift under the covers with a soft groan, before her breath evened out again and she went back to sleep. He cursed himself for forgetting to turn off the reminder to wake up at 7am, considering he had the day off as it was the Friday after Thanksgiving. He had no plans for the day, just wanting to spend it with Y/N as much as possible after the harrowing way her Thanksgiving ended. Her and Mark were most likely finished, at least he thought they were after everything she told him had happened at Mark’s apartment. He had blamed her for his own problems, and it had no doubt brought up some awful memories of her ex for her, so all Dean wanted to do was be there for her.

If he could find Mark and rip him a new one, he would, but there was no way Y/N was going to tell him where Mark lived.

Well, maybe she didn’t have to.

Deciding to make use of the time now that he was up early, he got out of Y/N’s bed slowly, being careful not to wake her. He smiled to himself as he remembered the night before, her asking him to sleep next to her because she didn’t want to be alone. He knew it was important to heal from the relationship with Mark first, but he was certain that this was the start of something incredible for them.

He walked out to the living room and picked up his jeans, pulling them on along with his jacket, tapping the pocket to check for his keys. Glancing around her living room, he knew he should leave her a note to tell he’d be back later and was glad to see a notepad and pen on the coffee table. He was in the home of a teacher, after all. He scribbled a quick note and ripped the paper off, slowly walking back into her bedroom, placing it on the pillow he slept on.

Mornin’ beautiful,

I didn’t have it in me to wake you up, but there’s some things I had to do this morning. I promise I’ll be back later, and we can hang out.

See ya tonight,

Dean

He smiled softly as he saw her body rise and fall with each breath, before he turned and left the room, walking to the front door and closing it behind him. He made his way across the street to his own home, opening the door and dropping the keys on the table near the door. Walking into his office, he sat behind the desk and pulled his laptop towards him, opening a new window. He bit his lip as he thought about how to start searching. Mark’s last name was Jenkins, and that was too common; he’d probably come up with at least five of them.

He also knew the man worked in advertising so that did narrow it down. He typed in “Mark Jenkins advertising” and found the company website and his profile, his picture making Dean’s blood boil. He looked at the address of the building, and then typed his name into the Kansas City directory. Sure enough there were five Mark Jenkins’, but he looked for the one who lived closest to the advertising agency, and the bar that Y/N had gone to for her birthday. He smirked as he found the one he was looking for, typing the address into the maps and closing the window, shutting his laptop. After a quick shower and change of clothes, he hurried towards the door and picked up his keys again, slamming the door shut behind him as he left.

He didn’t really care how early it was to make a house call. He needed to punch Mark Jenkins in his stupid face and give him a piece of his mind.

The day after Thanksgiving meant there was barely any traffic on the roads so early, knowing people would be out shopping later for the Black Friday sales. He sped down the highway, trying to figure out how he was going to approach things with Mark. As much as he wanted to hurt the guy, hopefully he wouldn’t have to if he showed he was sorry for the way he acted. If he didn’t, well then, all bets were off as to what Dean was going to do.

He reached the city after an hour, driving and turning through the streets as directed by the GPS voice. He pulled into the street parking right in front of the building, cutting the engine to the Impala. He got out of the car, locking it, before taking the stairs up to the entrance. He glanced over the names on the intercom, finding Mark’s name and pressing the buzzer.

“Yeah?” a gruff voice came through the speaker.

“Mark, it’s Dean. Winchester. Listen uh, we gotta talk, so can you let me in?” Dean asked, waiting for his reply.

“D-Dean? What’s this about?” Mark asked in return, his voice laced with confusion. But Dean knew better.

“I think you know, man. And unless you wanna have this conversation with your neighbors listening when they come down the stairs, I’d open the door, huh?” Dean reasoned.

The only reply he got was the buzzer going off, the door opening and letting him in. Dean took the steps two at a time as he went up to the third floor, finding it slightly ajar. He pushed it open, his eyes meeting Mark’s as soon as he stepped in, seeing the blonde-haired man leaning against his kitchen counter. Dean sauntered towards Mark, slowly, standing a few feet in front of him, his heart beating rapidly against his ribcage as his jaw clenched.

“If this is about what happened with Y/N, it’s really none of your business,” Mark stated, his voice rough and an octave higher than it needed to be.

He already had his defenses up, and Dean was going to have to put him in his place.

“It is when my friend comes home, in tears, because of the guy she’s been dating being a dick,” Dean countered, glaring at him.

“Hey, she’s the one who accused me of-” Mark started to argue but Dean cut him off.

“Look,” Dean took a step towards him, the scowl never leaving his face, “I don’t give a fuck about the specifics, okay? At least not from you, because there’s just no way I’m gonna believe you. You owe Y/N an apology, so just do it, and then you go on to be a disappointment to some other girl, okay?”

Mark stared him down, a glowering expression on his face. “Fuck you, man. And fuck Y/N. She wants to keep blaming me for issues when she’s been opening her slut legs to you or some other guy-”

Dean didn’t give Mark time to finish his sentence as he pulled his fist back, punching Mark across the face, the silver ring on his right ring finger cutting the blonde’s lip. He grabbed him by his t-shirt and turned him around, slamming him on the kitchen counter, holding him down.

“What the fuck?!” Mark yelled. “Get off me!”

“Say one more thing about her and I swear to god I’ll kick your fucking teeth in,” Dean snapped, his jaw tight with the anger coursing through him.

“I’ll press charges,” Mark threatened, his voice quivering, and Dean called his bluff.

“You really won’t,” he countered. “Because no matter how much you’re gonna deny it, you know the truth. So I suggest sending Y/N a message, telling her you’re sorry about being a dick and then end it with her.”

“So you can swoop in and take her, huh?” Mark asked, glancing up at Dean. “That’s the plan, right?”

One side of Dean’s mouth pulled up into a smirk. “There’s no plan.”

Mark scoffed, shaking his head. “Should’ve known there was something between you two.”

“At least I know a good thing when it’s right in front of me,” Dean stated, pushing his head harder against the counter. “Clearly an apology’s gonna do nothing, so now… you stay the fuck away from her.”

“Gladly,” Mark bit out.

Dean pulled Mark off the kitchen bench and pushed him against the wall, grabbing his shirt and staring him down, his scowl deeper than before. He knew it ultimately wasn’t worth getting into trouble for, so he shoved him back and stepped away. Without another glance in Mark’s direction, he walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. He hurried down the stairs and out to the street, getting into the Impala before he slid down in his seat, leaning his head back against the top of the leather bench. He let out a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as he closed his eyes.

He had no idea whether Mark would call the police or not, but he was willing to bet he wouldn’t. The guy probably didn’t care enough, and it was his ego that was more bruised than anything else. Dean knew he couldn’t tell Y/N because she’d worry, and while he didn’t want to lie to her, he also didn’t want her to overthink this. Knowing he did have errands to do today, he would just have to cover up his little visit with some more truths. He’d tell her eventually, but not when it was so fresh.

Turning the engine on and hearing it roar to life, Dean pulled away from the curb, turning Baby back towards Lawrence.

Mark was out of her life for good, and she could move on now. Whether that was with Dean or someone else, it didn’t matter to him. He just wanted her to be happy, to be free of someone who couldn’t see how amazing she was. They were both free to make their own decisions about what they wanted now. He knew he wanted to be with her, and had known since the day they met. He thought that she felt the same, but he wouldn’t know for sure until they really talked about it.

All he knew for certain was they could leave everything else behind them, because hopefully, they were each other’s future.

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Forevers: @evergreencowboy // @makeadealwithdean // @writercole // @flamencodiva // @440mxs-wife // @sexyvixen7 // @foxyjwls007 // @maliburenee // @waynes-multiverse // @weepingwillowphoenix // @kyjey // @lunarmoon8 // @stoneyggirl2 // @hobby27 //

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Dean: @akshi8278 // @whatareyousearchingfordean // @candy-coated-misery0731 // @siospins2 // @deans-baby-momma // @globetrotter28 // @pink-sparkly-witch // @krazykelly // @lyarr24 // @perpetualabsurdity // @lessons-of-red //

#Life's Lessons Saga #Dean's Lessons #Dean x Female!Reader #Dean x Female!Reader Series #Dean x Female!Reader Fanfiction #Female!Reader Insert #Mechanic!Dean #Teacher!Reader #Dean x Reader Fanfiction #Dean Winchester Angst #Dean Winchester Fluff #Dean Winchester Series #Dean Winchester Fanfiction #Supernatural Fanfiction

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teddyeyeseddie · 2 years

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A New Set of Eyes: Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ Fluff, SMUT (P in V) (Oral: Fem Rec) (Unprotected: BE SMART!!!), Scary Situation?, MINORS DNI

WC: 1,700

A/N: I love y'all? You're welcome? I’m Sorry?

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Dean and Y/N are in a fit of giggles when they finally stumble into Dean’s bedroom. Y/N is sitting on her haunches as she watches Dean struggle to take off his work boots. Once they are off of his feet, he is quick to meet her at her place on the bed. He attacks her neck with kisses causing Y/N to throw her head back laughing.

“Is this really happening?” Dean pants out as he smiles down at her, wonder and awe in his gaze as he admires the woman below him.

“It’s happening, Winchester.”

He attacks her neck again, Y/N’s hands pushing at the bunched up coveralls that are sitting around his waist.

“You know, the first time I saw you at the garage, these drove me absolutely crazy. Well, all of you did but god, this t-shirt and these coveralls were front and center of all my wet dreams for like weeks.”

He helps her get the coveralls down his legs as he lets out a gravely chuckle, his lips finding their way to the other side of her neck before finally pulling away to pepper kisses across her face. His lips connect with hers, his teeth pulling at her bottom lip.

“Mm- only for weeks? You have been in mine since the day I met you. Those fucking outfits when we were fixing up the shop? I had enough material at the end of every day I don’t think I’ll ever need a picture of another naked woman to get me off, especially now that I have this to think about.

“Think about it? Baby, you get the real thing now that I’m yours.”

He lets out a growl at that, his hands pawing at his t-shirt that she’s wearing. Y/N swears she hears a whimper once he gets the fabric off of her to reveal she is completely bare underneath.

“Please tell me you have underwear on under these sweats.”

“Why don’t you find out?”

Dean’s hands are needy and quick as he dips his hands into her waist band. Upon seeing there is nothing between him and her bare center, he is on his knees and between her legs before she can even register what is happening.

“Fuck baby, you’re so pretty.. Always thought about being here between your thighs.” Dean moans at the sight of her glistening pussy, ignoring it as best as he can while he marks up the inside of her thighs. Y/N mewls at the sensation causing Dean to let out a gravely chuckle.

“You like that? Like being marked up by me? Gonna show them off so everyone knows you’re mine?”

Y/N nods pathetically as her hands pull his head away from where he has latched onto her thigh, pushing it towards her aching core. Dean gets the memo and wastes no time wrapping his mouth around her clit, his tongue doing things she never thought Dean’s mouth could do. He was always so humble and kind with the things he said but what he was doing right between her legs were downright sinful.

Dean pulls away from her center, his thick fingers finding their way through her folds. Y/N’s hand grips at Dean’s forearm that is wrapped around her thigh in order to keep her pinned to the bed, her fingertips leaving marks in their place.

“You wanna mark me up too dontcha’? Want to let all those little damsels at the garage know that I’m yours?”

Y/N moans at his words as he adds another finger and quickens his pace. Her moans are loud and she is so thankful their first time is at his house and not her apartment, they would have several noise complaints given how carefree she is with the noises she is making.

“Fuck you’re so wet for me sweetheart, its a mystery how you didn’t completely soak through my sweatpants you were wearing,” Y/N’s breathing picks up as soon as Dean’s mouth finds its way back to her sensitive bundle of nerves, the grip on his forearm tightens which only encourages Dean to swipe over her clit with reckless abandon. Her thighs tighten around Dean’s head as she comes, her hand releasing his forearm as it finds its way to the back of his head, pushing it further against her core. She keeps him there until she finally comes down from her high, Dean pulling back to take in a deep breath.

“Were you trying to kill me, baby?” She chuckles and brings her hands up to cover her face, not able to form a coherent sentence. She feels Dean crawl up the bed as he kisses from her clit to her lips, his member brushing up against her sensitive center.

“You sound so pretty when you come. You were that loud and it was just my fingers, can’t even begin to imagine what it is gonna be like when I’m inside you,” she finally removes her hands from her face to look up at Dean, her juices are covering his face, the light catching it in an obscene manner.

“De- I wanna-” she breathes out as her hand finds its way down to his cock, it sits hard and heavy in her hand. She moans once she realizes how long and thick he is.

Dean shakes his head, his hands finding their way under her armpits in order to slide her up the bed.

“Another day, wanna be inside you.” he gets up from his place on the bed, reaching for his bedside table before he starts rummaging through it.

“Fuck, I threw out my condoms a few months back, they were all expired.” Y/N chuckles at that.

“And here I thought you were a little playboy getting with all the ladies.”

“S’ kinda hard to “get with all the ladies” when there is only one woman that you want to spend the rest of your life with.” Y/N tears up at that, scrambling to her knees in an effort to pull him back into bed.

“I’m clean and have an IUD, please De.”

With that, Dean is back on the bed and between her legs in no time, Y/N’s hands reach for him as he leans down to trap her lips in a messy kiss. Teeth are clanking together, it's needy and everything they have both have dreamed of.

Dean places a kiss and sucks a dark mark onto Y/N’s throat before he reaches down to slide his aching cock between her folds, groaning at how her slick makes the friction non existent. He thrusts just the tip in, teasing her as he shallowly fucks her. Y/N hooks her feet behind his ass and forces him to push deeper inside him, a groan resonating from deep inside his belly.

“Fuck- I knew this would be amzaing but I never imagined you would feel this good..” He leans down to nip at her neck again as he slowly fucks her. They keep it at this pace, hard thrusts and breathy moans as they map out every part of each other that they both dreamed of getting the chance to admire.

His hands roam her sides, knead at the flesh of her hips that she used to hate. Here with him, how he admires all of her, makes any insecurity she has ever had go out the window.

The way her hands map out every crevice on his chest that Dean has grown to hate, makes butterflies form in his stomach. The way she looks him in the eyes as he fucks her, he can see just how much love she holds for him. That is all he needs to know, he knows he is everything she has ever wanted.

“Baby, Sweetheart, I'm so close.”

“Please De-”

They both get lost in that moment, Y/N grips at the back of his shoulders as he buries his face in her neck. He empties himself inside her, the feeling of her clenching around him milking him for all he is worth.

—---------------------------

Y/N sits between Dean’s legs as he lazily scrubs at her scalp with the shampoo she brought with her.

“Gonna have to buy you some of this to keep here..” he breathes out as he rinses out the product from her hair. Once he finishes up with taking care of her, she leans back against his warm chest.

“I love you De,” Y/N breathes out as she reaches for his hand that is resting right below her breasts.

“I love you more, Y/N,”

With that profession of love, Dean stands up behind her to climb out of the tub. He wraps a towel around his waist before he grabs Y/N one out of the cabinet in his bathroom. She stands and makes her way out, letting Dean wrap her up in the soft cotton.

The two make their way back into Dean’s room, Dean rummaging through his drawers to find them both a pair of clothes to enjoy their evening in.

“Here darling,” Dean tosses an old band t-shirt onto the bed along with his favorite pair of sweats.

She slips the clothes on over her panties and follows Dean downstairs once he is dressed and ready for their night in.

The pair get comfy on the couch but are quickly brought out of their rest to the sound of a knock on the door.

“Probably the Thai I ordered before we took our bath,” Dean places a kiss to the crown her head before he gets up to retrieve their food. Y/N stays at her place on the couch until she hears commotion coming from the front door.

“Fuck- Y/N RUN.”

TAGS

Series:

@bakugouswh0r3 @vampiregirl1797 @leigh70 @jenwritesstories @Ohyoungods @sassy-pelican @missannwinchester

Forever

@mrsjenniferwinchester @Thoughts-and-funnies @stixnstripesworld @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @laycblack

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writethelifeyouwant · 1 year

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Junkie - Kinktober 2022 | Day 23 & 24

Summary: Sam accidentally nicks Dean’s throat with his knife, and finally, life as they’ve always known it is all over.

Pairing: Demon!Dean x BloodJunkie!Sam / Sam x Wife (Unnamed) Rating: 18+ Warnings: Incest, Infidelity, Blood Consumption Tags: AU, Bartender!AU, Mechanic!AU, Mechanic!Dean, Bartender!Sam, Internal Monologuing, Knife Play, Gore, Blood Drinking, Dirty Talk, Cheating, Incest Kink, Infidelity Kink, Oral Sex, Deepthroating, Cockbulge, Degradation Word Count: 3.3k Kinktober Prompt - (23) Cockbulge/Deepthroating | (24) Gore

Bingo Squares: @anyfandomdarkbingo - Demonic Possession | @anyfandomkinkbingo - Blood In The Cut, K. Flay | @spndeanbingo - Bartender!AU | @j3bingo - Control, Halsey | @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo - Quote J “This cock isn’t going to suck itself.” | @spnkinkbingo - 24/7

Ever since the Yellow Eyes Demon fried their mother extra crispy on baby Sammy’s ceiling, the lives of the Winchester boys have been unusual, to say the least. John, convinced that Mary’s killer had targeted Mary for a specific reason, moves the family to a small, two-bedroom ranch across town (so Sam and Dean can share a room and Dean can always keep an eye on the baby boy) and gets back to work. By day, he works at his garage with his partner, but by night, he hunts down any scrap of information he can about his wife’s murder.

And Dean and Sam grow up the same way, going to daycare and then school and then the local community college, keeping their heads down and acting just like every other boy that grows up in Lawrence. They get called down to the guidance counsellor a little more often, they have bruises and cuts and scrapes a bit more than your average kid, but they lost their mother young, and John’s always been a bit rough and tumble. Everyone makes excuses for them, Sam and Dean don’t even need to come up with lies to cover up their true nocturnal activities and weekend getaways.

They spend every moment they aren’t in school helping their dad hunt down evil–the supernatural variety. Ghosts and werewolves and poltergeists and vampires and demons. Demons become their speciality. Because as soon as they learn that it was a demon that killed Mary, it’s their mission to hunt down every single one of those sons-of-bitches until their entire godforsaken species is extinct. When they learn that Sam has demon blood running through his veins, courtesy of the murderous visit Azazel paid them the night he turned six months old, cracks start to emerge in their life’s work.

Dean is working with John at the garage now, Sam is bartending while he finishes up his final year of school. Sam’s got a pretty girlfriend, and Dean’s got a pretty long list of booty calls. John’s got his demon-hunting. And then all of the sudden, they have to make a choice they never anticipated–what level of demon-ness can they stretch to tolerate? Family has always been the most important thing to them, besides the hunt, so what’s more important? Killing the demon race to extinction or protecting their family. Family wins.

When John has the choice of working with a demon to save Dean’s life, or killing Azazel and letting Dean die of his injuries… he knocks over the next domino. Taking care of his boys wins again. And when Sam dies, Dean makes the deal with the demon to bring him back, because taking care of Sammy wins. And when Dean dies, Sam tries hunting down and threatening every demon he can to bring back his brother, but when that doesn’t work, and Ruby offers him another way, Sam succumbs to the temptation and lets himself get hooked on demon blood because she promises him that if he’s strong enough, he might be able to bring Dean back.

And on and on it goes, the unhealthy brotherly affection spiralling from commitment to codependency and ever closer towards addiction. There’s hardly anything keeping Sam and Dean from slipping the rest of the way down that slope. And demons–once again–are what push them over the final threshold to a place they can never come back from.

When Dean becomes the thing they’ve always fought so hard against, more purely demonic than Sam has ever managed, the final domino begins to teeter. Sam tries to pull his brother back. He traps him in the back room of his garage, where Dean technically lives these days, ties him down to his bed and force feeds him the clarified human blood that can bring him back to his regular old mechanic, demon-hunting self. Dean wonders if some deeply buried part of Sam scratches the devil’s trap open on purpose, lets him escape on purpose, because they both know that neither of them are really happy leading their apple-pie double lives. Sam with his girl and his dog and his bar, Dean with his garage and his Impala. They’ve both been burying a secret far worse than their supernatural murder sprees all these years.

When Dean escapes, he corners his little brother against a concrete wall of the garage, and he dares Sam to be strong enough to do it–to choose their mission, their life’s work, over protecting his big brother. Sam’s hand twitches, like he’s willing himself to fucking nut up and end it, fighting not to make the same mistake that’s gotten them into this situation over and over again.

Sam accidentally nicks Dean’s throat with his knife, and finally, life as they’ve always known it is all over.

Demon blood will always be a weakness for Sam, but usually, he has enough control over himself to resist the urge to drink. Something about Dean’s blood, though, it’s not the same. The siren song from the small rivulet of blood trailing down the hollow of his brother’s throat is a thousand times stronger than a veritable kiddie pool of blood from lackey-demon number nine; a hundred times stronger than the gashes over Ruby’s wrists that he’d suckled on so obsessively for over a year. And this is just one small drop of blood. Suddenly Sam can hear the rest of Dean’s blood rushing beneath the delicate membrane of his skin, pulsing in his veins, barely restrained. It would be so easy… hardly any effort at all…

Dean’s fingers wrap purposefully around Sam’s wrist. He doesn’t have to work hard to push his brother’s arm away from his throat or use his demonically-enhanced strength. Sam’s willpower is now focused entirely on not drinking Dean dry, the tension in his arm illustrating his restraint in not pushing the knife further into Dean’s throat, and the demon can tell. Dean smiles darkly as he raises Sam’s hand and the knife it’s clutching up to his mouth, letting his sinful tongue dart from between his lips to collect the small line of his blood on the blade’s edge. He slices the tip of his tongue in the process, the wound burning violently thanks to the magic of the Demon Blade, and he hisses but he keeps his tongue firmly out of his mouth, the blood now welling temptingly on the muscle.

Sam feels like he’s about to hyperventilate.

Slowly, teasingly, Dean twists Sam’s wrist and angles the back of his hand towards his mouth so he can lick across the surface of Sam’s knuckles, decorating them with his tainted blood. Sam stares at the shine of the deep red against the white of his skin, blanched from how tightly he’s still holding the Demon Blade. He feels himself swallow and regrets that he can’t taste any of the honeyed-metallic scent that’s enveloping him sliding down his throat. His vision has tunnelled to the back of his hand, everything else around him unimportant–even his demonic and murderous big brother. The world has faded to black and white except for the stain of red against his knuckles, clinging like dew drops on the grass to the coarse hairs that are standing on end, alert and at attention. Idly, Sam thinks he might be shivering. Everywhere feels cold except the skin of his wrist that’s still locked beneath Dean’s fingers.

“C’mon Sammy,” Dean coos, and when Sam tears his gaze away from the blood on his hand to look at his big brother, the familiar green of his eyes has been swallowed by the black of the demon that’s inhabiting him. No. That he is. This isn’t some random demon possessing Dean’s body–this demon is Dean. Dean with all his cruelty and bloodlust twisted obsessiveness worn on his sleeve, no longer buried deep beneath years of shame and better judgement.

“Do it,” the demon whispers again, no longer talking about Sam cutting his throat, but tempting him towards a wholly worse kind of violence. The kind that will destroy them both more egregiously than Death or Hell could ever conceive.

“Let me take care’a you, Sammy,” Dean pleads, his eyes suddenly the bright, kind green that turns Sam weak at the knees. He’s never admitted it aloud, but Sam is just as weak for Dean’s imploring expressions as Dean is for Sam’s kicked-puppy look. “I know you want this. You need this. Let me help you,” Dean brings a hand up to the back of Sam’s neck bracingly, soothing away the tension of his restraint, massaging his muscles into submission.

Sam lets out a sob, feeling himself breaking apart under Dean’s touch and wanting to refuse but finding that he can’t with each second that slips by, each touch of Dean’s burning fingertips against his skin. His head cants forward and Dean swivels to catch him, their brows touching, foreheads pressed together in a sick lovers parody. And Dean knows exactly what Sam needs, and how to get him to break and take it for himself.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dean murmurs, licking his lips and painting them with a slick stain of his blood, prettier than any hooker in red lipstick that Sam has ever seen. “I’ve gotcha, I’m gonna take care’a you.” Sam’s body is wracked with another sob as each word drives a stake into his resolve, splitting it down the fault lines as Dean targets each weakness. “I love you so much, baby brother,” Dean whispers, his mouth a hair’s breadth away from Sam’s, waiting for him to fall and join him in his Hell on Earth.

But when Sam’s lips crash into Dean’s he swears it feels more like Heaven.

The old adage of drugs, sex and rock-and-roll feels an entirely appropriate descriptor for their lives now.

Sam gets his blood-fix, Dean brings the rock-and-roll with his cassette collection like he always has, and they both get the sex. Dean isn’t sure which part is his favourite–the way Sam looks when he’s drunk on his big brother’s blood, or when he’s high on his big brother’s cock. Of course, more often than not Sam is both at the same time, so Dean doesn’t feel particularly guilty about not wanting to choose between them.

Dean looks down at his little brother, kneeling on the floor between his legs, the long sandy brown hair tangled and knotted at the back of his head where Dean’s fingers have been messing with it. Sam hasn’t thought about brushing his hair in a while. That sort of thing isn’t important to him anymore. He only thinks about one thing these days, and that’s exactly how Dean likes it. The old human-him had always been worried that Sam would leave him someday, like he did when Dean was twenty-two, and too weak to stop him. But Dean isn’t weak anymore, and the new and improved him had the obvious solution for keeping Sam exactly where he wants him.

“There’s a good boy,” the demon croons, petting Sam’s hair as he laves the huge flat of his tongue across the cut Dean has carved into his inner thigh. Dean doesn’t scar anymore when he heals, but Sam is so attached to drinking from this particular spot that he swears he can see a faint trace of the cut every time the skin closes over it again these days.

With the hand that isn’t in Sam’s hair, Dean reaches for his cock and strokes himself languidly, enjoying the slow roll of his skin over the blood-engorged muscle, teasing his veins by squeezing tighter and letting go, making the blood pulse along his length in heady spurts, and Dean knows that Sam can hear it as he teases himself, because the man whimpers pathetically against his thigh, his tongue shaking with the increased speed of his breath.

“Where’s your girl think you are?” he asks with a cold grin, and Sam shakes his head and mumbles something incoherent, not wanting to pause in his drinking to take the time to answer. “She think you’re at work?” Dean prods, and Sam shakes his head again, teeth scraping over the cut in Dean’s skin. “She think you’re out with your brother gettin’ drunk? That’s not too far off the truth I guess,” he chuckles deeply, petting Sam’s head fondly.

“Don’t wanna talk about ‘er,” Sam slurs when he pulls off Dean’s thigh with a gasp, only pausing in his quest for blood because his need for oxygen had become too urgent. Dean cups his cheek and drags his thumb across Sam’s lower lip, collecting the bloody spit pooling there and bringing his finger up to his own mouth, sucking it in with a hum of satisfaction and enjoying the look of disgruntled longing on his little brother’s face. Sam resents missing out even on that tiny, diluted drop of Dean’s demonic essence, and the demon knows it, which is exactly why he does it every time.

Reaching to his side for his knife–not the Demon Blade, just a regular steel pocket knife he’s always carried around–he flicks the blade back out and runs it over the base of his stomach gently before dragging it down through the mousy trail of hair that draws a line from his belly button to his cock. As if someone would need directions on their way down, Dean’s cock stands out huge and heavy between his legs, twitching up in anticipation at the feeling of the pocket knife glancing over its length.

The masochistic part of Dean loves this bit. He holds the head of his dick in one palm and angles the tip of the knife just so across the top, going for one of the smaller veins instead of the big one that runs up the underside. They’ve done that before and Sam nearly bit his dick off in his enthusiasm to suck down the tide of blood that started flowing. The smaller veins work better, giving Sam just enough of a taste to keep him happy, but not letting him gorge himself. Keeps Dean in control of the situation.

Sam looks up at Dean pleadingly with eyes nearly as black as the demon’s own, waiting like he’s been taught. Waiting for permission.

“This cock isn’t going to suck itself,” Dean scoffs, and that’s all the instruction Sam needs before he’s diving in hungrily, sucking the head of the demon’s length between his lips and swirling his tongue over the small incision, moaning with even more pleasure than Dean does at the feel of the wet heat sliding around him.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, fisting his hand in the knot of Sam’s hair. “There’s my boy. Dirty fucking boy, aren’t you? Gagging for a dick down your throat when you’ve got a pretty girl at home who wants to be choking on yours–such a fucking waste, aren’t you?”

Dean doesn’t do well with silence, he never has. And since he became this version of himself, it’s like all the voices in his head that he’s been trying to muffle his whole life have all been given microphones. Demons are the most tortured of all, he remembers being told during his sojourn in Hell. He hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out what Alastair meant by that, but now he knows all too well. Demons crave violence and pleasure and oblivion because that’s the only way to make the voices shut the fuck up. It’s the only way to get some goddamn quiet.

The volume starts to dim as Dean yanks Sam forward, using his hair like a leash and dragging him down his cock until he’s pushing into a throat that’s fighting him. When he’s in Sam’s throat Sam can’t taste the blood anymore, and Sammy doesn’t like that, which means Dean loves it.

“Yeah, bitch,” he groans, using his own voice to drown out the ones inside, still too loud. “Look at you taking my dick all the way down this pretty throat.” Dean circles the fingers of his free hand around the front of his brother’s neck and squeezes as he fucks in as deeply as possible, feeling the bulge of his cock moving in Sam’s throat and letting a groan ring out in the echoey concrete of his room at the back of the garage.

This place has always been perfect for hunting the supernatural, and now for their even more secretive activities because it’s built out of the way, on the edge of the town. No one wants all the noise from an auto shop near their houses or offices, so there’s nothing else around here for at least half a mile. Sam and Dean can scream as loud as they want, and no one will ever hear them.

“Good fucking cocksucker, aren’t’ya boy?” Dean keeps up his monologuing as he fucks Sam’s throat, denying him the blood that he’s so desperate to feel on his tongue again, keeping the crown of his cock firmly away from the man’s tastebuds. “What would people say if they saw you like this, huh? Big, tough, Sam Winchester, on his knees for a fucking demon, for his fucking big brother. What would Dad think of you, huh? His boys. Probably turned out worse than he could ever’ve imagined, didn’t we Sammy?” Dean laughs as he throws his head back, hips bucking off the edge of his mattress as he thrusts into Sam’s throat as roughly as he can. He feels Sam’s tears sliding off his face and onto the hand he has braced around his neck, and Dean wants to lick them up; taste a part of his brother’s shame the way Sammy tastes his.

Because how can it not be shameful that Dean Winchester, famous demon-hunter, is now a demon himself and doesn’t give enough of a fuck to let his brother save him? Instead, he’s dragging Sammy right down to the pit with him, because they sure as shit weren’t gonna let something like this split them up after everything they’ve pulled to stay together. If Dean is a demon for good then Sammy’s getting damned too, that’s just the way it is with them. And Sam is far too addicted to the demon blood now to protest, even though he’s probably powerful enough to overcome Dean if he tried.

That’s the most magnificent part, that Sam has every capability to escape this situation, to fight Dean off, and he’s becoming more and more powerful with every drop of Dean’s blood that he drinks, but none of that matters to him. Fighting Dean hasn’t even occurred to him. Because all that matters is his next fix. Dean has the all-powerful, special child of Hell as tamed as a hellhound. Obedient and hungry. Every second of every day, Sam is waiting for Dean’s call, telling him that it’s time. He would sit on his knees beside Dean’s bed on the cold concrete until his skin was rubbed raw and he was wasting away. His life’s one joy, now, is to service Dean, because when he does, he gets his reward. He gets Dean’s blood.

They’re bonded more deeply now than ever before, in a way that Dean, twisted as he was even as a human, has always craved. Sammy as his; Sammy devoted solely to him. If they didn’t have a facade of a normal life to keep up, he would happily keep Sam naked at his beck and call. He’s had dirty dreams about the idea for years. Dean cums down his brother’s throat reminiscing about his old fantasies. The sounds of Sam choking on his release as Dean shoves him back off his dick are just about enough to drown out the noise in his head.

Part 1 is posting straight to Tumblr for Kinktober. Part 2 is a bonus smut scene and will be posted to my website as a member exclusive!

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spnexploration · 10 months

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Me writing Dean doing mechanics:

#Dean Winchester #mechanic!dean winchester #mechanic!dean #spn cartoon #spn art

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dorkylilguy · 5 months

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doting blue collar husband with his adorable male wife 💚💙

#supernatural #spn #spn fanart #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #deancas #spnfandom #castiel fanart #destiel fanart #my hands look like this so his can look like that #he loves him #mechanic!dean #housewife!cas #soulmates

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sky-is-the-limit · 4 months

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Here's to the SPN writers who intended to write a dudebro toxic hetero man and ended up creating one of the most bisexual characters who ever bisexualed in the history of bisexuality. Oh, and Jackles' acting choices.

#couldn't give two flying fucks about the 15 years of queer bait and shitshow when people say bi characters i instantly think of Dean #he's for us mentally unstable self hating bisexuals who use humour and sexiness as coping mechanisms #dean winchester #spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #bisexual #queer #gay #lgbtq #castiel #jensen ackles

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scoobydoodean · 4 months

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1.01 Pilot

#deans mechanical mind #my smart bby #deans out of the box thinking #1.01 #good gifs with free tools challenge

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shadypoliticianfromplanetvulcan · 6 months

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For us it was just a montage, but for sam those 6 months without dean in mystery spot were very much real, a very real, very long time to become the obsessive, psychotic person we saw on screen only very briefly. a part of this madness stayed with him. and when he lost dean again, he lost it.

#simple as that #i believe he fled into his hubris very much as a coping mechanism #which is no excuse for some things he did #but an explanation #s4 sam is a very different person #and it makes no sense without s3 #sam and dean #freak (affectionate)#having a s3 and 4 sam week apparently

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wayward-dreamer · 2 years

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What Is And What Should Never Be

Dean’s Lessons Part 3

Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x Female!Teacher!Reader

Word count: 1,550

Warnings: Slight angst, Dean’s self-deprecation rears its ugly head, masturbation, sex dreams

A/N: This is also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo, square filled: masturbation. I really hope you guys are enjoying seeing a few things from LL from Dean’s perspective, and maybe even a couple things you didn’t see! ;) As always, happy reading and enjoy! :) beta’d by my darling @downanddirtydean.

Life’s Lessons Saga Masterlist

Dean shut the door, resting his back against the wood, a large exhale leaving him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable feeling to kick in. Sadness. Loneliness. Anger. Regret. He waited for at least one of them to wash over him, but they didn’t. In fact, the only thing he felt was relief.

It was his first time coming back from work to an empty house. Lisa had left a few days ago, both her and Ben driving off in their car. The last thing he saw was the car taking a left at the end of the street, and they were gone. He was of course going to miss the kid, he had really formed a good relationship with Ben, but ultimately it was the right thing for everyone involved that he and Lisa finally broke up and she headed back to Indiana.

As he walked down the hallway, he did feel one of those feelings creep in. Loneliness. For the first time in three years, he was alone. No one to come home to. No one to ask him about his day or greet him with a kiss on the cheek. It only lasted the first year and a half with Lisa, but it was still good while it lasted. He longed for all of that again. To feel wanted by someone. It had never bothered him in the past, to be alone, because he always had something or someone to occupy his time with. He didn’t want to go back to the way he used to be, though. It would be easy to slip back into his old routine, that was true, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want those things anymore; drinking himself blind or hooking up with women he didn’t know. He was done with that. He had had his fun.

What he wanted, more than anything and especially now that he was free to make that decision, was to be with Y/N. Just like most things in his life though, even that wasn’t going to work out because now she was with someone else. Mark something. Mark, who he had met twice now. Once when he was out with his dad and ran into Y/N and Mark, and then again at her birthday when they were having drinks. Mark, who had insulted him and had earned a punch to his irritatingly perfect teeth next time he saw him. He honestly didn’t know what she saw in him, considering they didn’t seem to have much in common or even have much to talk about. He saw her at the bar when they all had drinks together. She was talking with Charlie and Meg mostly, but even if she tried to make it look like she and Mark had something good, he could see the truth.

Dean sighed as he stopped in front of the kitchen sink. He felt something else start to sink in then. Regret. Regret that he hadn’t called it off with Lisa sooner. If he had, he’d be with Y/N now.

His phone vibrated in his pocket causing him to jump, his hand reaching into his pocket and taking it out. He exhaled deeply, seeing Sam’s name on the screen before he answered. Like an idiot, he forgot he was supposed to meet Sam for drinks and called a rain check. His little brother even offered to come over with pizza, beer, and watch Die Hard, something they did when one of them wasn’t in a good mood, but he told Sam he didn’t need to. He could tell Sammy was worried, and probably didn’t believe him when he reassured him that everything was okay as he put on a light tone to his voice, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Dean hung up and placed his phone on the counter, pushing his hands through his hair as he leaned his elbows against the surface. Maybe he should’ve said yes to meeting Sam so he didn’t have to face the eerie and somewhat depressing silence of his house, but he knew his brother would tell him things he wasn’t ready to hear yet. He lifted his head as he heard a car pull up across the street, his eyes immediately finding Y/N as he looked out the kitchen window. He saw her take out a grocery bag and carry it under one arm, her other holding her phone to her ear. He frowned as he watched her walk across the small path to her porch, throwing her head back as she laughed.

His heart began to beat faster against his ribcage as he felt the urge to go to her, to ask her whether she’d want to have dinner, and maybe finally open up to her about how he was feeling. Now that Lisa was gone, he could finally be honest with her. With the way she was smiling, however, he knew that she was talking to Mark. He stepped back from the counter, shaking his head at his own stupid thoughts. Maybe he was free for them to be together, but she wasn’t.

He made his way down the hallway and into his bedroom, stripping off his clothes before he stepped into the bathroom and left the door slightly ajar. He turned the shower on, making sure the water was warm before he stepped in, pulling the curtain closed. He pressed his hands against the tiled wall, leaning forward as the spray washed down his head and wet his hair, down his shoulders and back. He couldn’t take his mind off Y/N but considering they had spent part of her birthday together despite her insistence that they couldn’t be around each other, he wasn’t surprised by that fact. She had been constantly in his thoughts since they met, and then he kissed her on that fateful night, and everything was different between them.

Suddenly they weren’t just friends and neighbors. They were two people who couldn’t explore their feelings because of their situations. Their timing was never right, with him ending things with Lisa just as Y/N found Mark. None of it was playing it out the way he had hoped, the way he had dreamed on nights he fell asleep beside Lisa but was overwhelmed by thoughts of his beautiful neighbor.

His eyes shut tightly as he felt his cock twitch, his mind getting away from him as he pictured Y/N. He saw her on the night she came over for dinner, laughing and smiling at him, her hand fitting perfectly in his, her lips against his as they forgot about the reality of their situation for a moment and kissed. His hand drifted down, wrapping around his shaft and pumping slowly, his other still pressed into the wall to keep himself steady. He groaned softly as he remembered the feel of her skin against his palms, as his hands slid up her back under her sweater, right before she pushed him away. The scent of her perfume as he kissed along her neck and collarbone drove him insane, nipping at her flesh.

A low growl fell from his lips as memories turned into fantasies, to images of her beneath him, their bodies writhing against each other as he moved deep within her. His hand stroked over his cock a little quicker, his imagination running wild as he heard her moaning his name in the heat of passion, his hands in hers as they stared into each other’s eyes. Their lips fused together in a searing kiss, Dean rolling onto his back as he held her close.

He smiled softly as he pictured her above him, gazing down at him, his hands on her hips as her hips rocked against his. Their movement became frantic as she pressed her hands into his chest, his thrusts faster as he lifted his hips to meet hers. His hand pumped faster, a loud groan leaving him as he felt himself getting closer to his release. His eyes remained closed as he imagined Y/N moaning his name as she reached the peak of ecstasy, a string of expletives along with her name fell from his lips as he reached the edge. A strangled moan left him as his neck strained back, spurts of his seed coating the tiled wall before washing away in the spray of the shower.

He blinked rapidly as he opened his eyes, wiping away the droplets of water from his face as he was hit by a wave of guilt. He sighed heavily as he cleaned himself, turning off the shower and stepping out. He wrapped a dark blue towel around his waist, wiping the fog off the mirror as he stared at himself, leaning his hands on the sink.

No matter how much he wanted Y/N in his life, she had moved on. She was with someone else, and he had to accept that. Even if every fibre in his being was telling him not to, he knew that he had to fight the voices in his head telling him to go after her. She wasn’t free to be with him.

That was something he was going to have to live with from now on.

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