A siren's call

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The night was bitter, the wind slicing through the streets of New York like a razor. Ben adjusted his shirt and stuffed his hands into his pockets. The world had changed in the forty years since he was taken out of it, but some parts of the city still held a certain timelessness.

It was the smell of rain on the pavement, the occasional jazz note spilling from an open window, the flickering neon signs—things that reminded him of a time when he still thought he was invincible, when he thought he had it all. He paused in front of a bar, the sign above it old and cracked but still legible.

The Velvet Rose. A place he'd known once, back when jazz and blues were whispered rebellions in a world that forbade them. His boots crunched on the wet sidewalk as he debated moving on, but then he heard it—a voice so rich and sweet it stopped him cold. He turned toward the sound, his heart pounding like a war drum. It wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be her.

The voice he hadn’t heard since the '70s, the one that haunted his dreams. Y/N. No. She would be long gone by now, her laugh a ghost, her memory as faded as an old Polaroid. But his feet betrayed him, carrying him toward the sound. He pushed the door open, the dim amber light spilling out to greet him like an old friend. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and nostalgia.

The clink of glasses and murmurs of conversation faded into the background as he found the staircase to the basement. His boots hit each step with the weight of disbelief. And there she was. The room was a time capsule, untouched by decades of change. The polished wood, the velvet curtains, the smoky haze—all of it could have been lifted straight from 1957.

But it was her who held his attention. She stood on the stage, bathed in the warm glow of a spotlight. Her red silk dress hugged her in all the ways he remembered, her every movement a melody in itself. She swayed with the music, her voice wrapping around the room like a velvet ribbon.

His chest tightened. She hadn’t aged a day. Men filled the room, transfixed, but for her, they were background noise. As her song reached its crescendo, her eyes swept across the room and landed on him. Just for a moment. To anyone else, it would have been nothing—a glance, a flicker of acknowledgment. But he saw it. Recognition.

Her voice faltered, just slightly, so imperceptibly no one else would have noticed. But he did. He saw the way her breath hitched, the way her grip on the microphone tightened. When the song ended, the room erupted into applause. She smiled, graceful as ever, and thanked the audience before disappearing behind the velvet curtain.

He didn’t think. He moved. Down a narrow hallway, past murmuring patrons and waitstaff, he found the door. A security guard stepped forward, the tension palpable. The man was no pushover, towering over Ben with arms like tree trunks. But Ben didn’t flinch, his steely gaze unwavering.

Before it could escalate, her voice rang out, rich and commanding. “It’s OK, Marcel. As much as I would like the see you two alfa's fight, you can let him in.” Marcel hesitated for a fraction of a second, then stepped aside.

Ben pushed past him without a glance, his eyes locked on the door she had disappeared behind. Inside, the room was dimly lit, soft and intimate. She was there, seated at a vanity, her back to him. Her hands worked through her hair, undoing the intricate style. It cascaded down in waves, framing her shoulders and collarbone.

The sight was breathtaking, but it was the way she turned and smiled at him that sent a punch straight to his gut. “I thought I saw a familiar face in the crowd,” she said, her voice smooth as silk.

“How?” was all Ben could manage, his voice raw. She stood, her red dress replaced by a long, luxurious robe trimmed with fur on the sleeves. Her bare feet made no sound as she crossed the room toward him. “Would you have believed me,” she began, tilting her head slightly, “if I told you back then you weren’t the only one?”

“Yes,” he said, without hesitation. She huffed a soft, disbelieving laugh, her eyes dropping to the floor. “Oh, Ben,” she murmured. “You wouldn’t.”

Before she could step away, his hand was behind her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. He pulled her close, their bodies flush against each other, his breath warm against her face. Their eyes searched each other’s, a silent conversation passing between them. He began to lean in, his lips almost brushing hers, when she whispered, “Let me go, Ben.”

His body obeyed, his arms releasing her as though her words had taken away his will to resist. “So that’s it,” he said, his voice quiet but sharp. “You can manipulate people?”

Her eyes softened as she stepped back, wrapping the robe tighter around herself. “Men,” she admitted. “I’m a siren.” She moved to sit on the edge of the vanity, her elegance unshaken. Ben followed, standing behind her.

His eyes caught hers in the mirror, locking them in place. “Did you…” he began, his voice steady but his heart racing. “Did you use it on me?” She smiled, but it was a sad, wistful expression, her gaze dropping before she answered. “You wouldn’t have run to her if I did.”

The mention of her hit him like a slap. Crimson Countess. The woman he thought he loved. The woman who had betrayed him in every way that mattered. “Her,” Ben said, his voice thick with regret. “My biggest mistake.”

Y/N’s expression softened further, a mixture of understanding and sorrow. “You weren’t yourself, Ben. And maybe… if I had fought a little harder, gave you a little more of myself. But what’s done is done.” He wanted to argue, wanted to apologize, but the words caught in his throat.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” he finally asked, his reflection pleading with hers. “Because I wanted it to be your choice, and you chose her.” she said, her voice breaking slightly. “Even if it meant losing you. I needed to be sure you loved me for me.”

The silence between them was heavy, filled with years of unspoken truths and what-ifs. Ben reached out, his hand brushing her shoulder in a tentative gesture.

"How is she?" her voice cracked as the words left her mouth, heavy with a mix of anger and grief. He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. “Dead.” Her lips parted, and she began to murmur, “I’m sor—” “Don’t.” His tone was sharp, cutting her off.

He stepped back, his hands balling into fists. “I killed her.” The words hung in the air, heavier than anything else he’d said. Y/N’s eyes searched his face, trying to gauge what lay beneath his hardened exterior. “Why?”

“Because she betrayed me.” She turned around, her gaze locking onto his. “Is that what you’re here to do, Ben? To kill me?” The question struck like a thunderclap.

Ben’s knees gave out, and he sank to the floor before her, his hands reaching for hers. “Never,” he said, his voice breaking. “Never you. I—I came to beg. For forgiveness, for leaving you. For everything.” Her fingers slid over his, trembling slightly. Slowly, she stood up before him, her hand finding its way to his face.

Her touch was light, but it burned into him, grounding him in a way nothing else could. “Get up, Ben,” she said softly. “This doesn’t suit you.” He let her guide him to his feet, the weight of his guilt still clinging to him like a second skin. “Besides,” she added, her lips curving into a faint smile, “it wasn’t me. It was the song. That’s what brought you back to me.”

Ben shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “It’s not the song. It’s you. It’s always been you.” She hesitated, her hand still lingering against his chest. There was something in her eyes—doubt, maybe even fear, did he mean it? Could Ben be immune if he wanted to? But she couldn't find out, him leaving her again would break her heart.

She had heard tales of sirens losing the love of their life. Once their heart had been broken, their life song would end and slowly so would they. She had been scared to give Ben her heart, and it turned out she was right about it.

She turned toward the door, reaching for the handle to let him out. Before she could pull it open, Ben’s hand shot out, pushing it closed with a force that reverberated through the room. She gasped softly, caught between the door and his body, her back pressing into the wood.

His hands found her waist, holding her firmly but not harshly. His breath fanned against her skin as his face hovered just inches from hers. “Ben…”

He didn’t wait. He didn’t think. He kissed her, the kind of kiss that shattered walls and erased time. Hot and heavy, full of all the years they’d lost, the pain they’d endured, and the longing that had never died. At first, she froze, but then he felt it—the way her lips softened against his, the way her hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

And then he heard it, soft and sweet, the sound that had always undone him. “Ben…” she moaned, his name rolling off her tongue like honey. It was like a dam breaking.

Every memory of them came rushing back, flooding his senses. Nights spent tangled in silk sheets. Her laugh echoing in the quiet moments between battles. The way she’d once looked at him, as though he were the only thing in the world that mattered. His lips left hers, trailing down her jaw, her neck, before resting against her collarbone as he caught his breath.

“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. She lifted his chin, her eyes meeting his with an intensity that made him feel like he might drown. “Ben.” It wasn’t just a name. It was a promise. He kissed her again, slower this time, savoring her, grounding himself in the reality that she was here, alive, and real. And this time, he wouldn’t let her slip away.

Ben's lips moved with desperate precision, tracing the curve of her neck, her shoulder, and down to her collarbone. Each kiss was a plea, a claim, a reminder that she was his, even after all these years.

"Again," he ordered, his voice low and rough against her skin. Her breath hitched as she whispered, “Oh, Ben…” His hands slid to the bow of her robe, tugging at it with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

The fabric loosened, falling open to reveal her to him. His gaze swept over her, filled with reverence and need. His hands roamed, not gentle but not cruel, driven by years of longing and regret. But then her voice came again, soft but firm, anchoring him.

“Ben…wait” His hands stilled, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. “I need you,” she said, her voice trembling but steady enough to pierce through the haze of his desire. “I need you too, baby,” he said quickly, leaning in, his lips brushing against hers again.

“No, Ben,” she murmured, her hands coming up to frame his face, stopping him. Her eyes locked onto his, filled with vulnerability, longing, and something deeper. “I need you… like I used to have you.”

He froze, her words sinking in. The raw emotion in her gaze tore through him, replacing the fire in his chest with something softer, something warmer. He cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek.

“Anything,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “Anything you want. I promise.” She nodded, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. This time, when their lips met, it wasn’t rushed or rough. It was slow, deliberate, filled with all the love and pain that had never really gone away.

He guided her back toward the large sofa in the room, his movements gentle now, reverent, as though she might disappear if he wasn’t careful. “Y/N,” he whispered against her lips, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll make it right. I’ll give you everything. Just… tell me what you need.”

Her hands slid over his shoulders, pulling him closer, grounding him. “make love to me,” she said softly.

“I just need you.”

--

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Between power and freedom

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The next hours felt like a whirlwind as we acted like madly in love teenagers, lost in each other’s energy. We teased, kissed, and explored every inch of one another until we eventually felt exhaustion taking over and fell asleep in a tangle of limbs.

Morning came, and I slipped out of bed, feeling the lingering warmth of our night together. I headed into the shower, the hot water cascading down my body, washing away the remnants of sleep. Just as I started to relax, I felt a familiar presence behind me.

Dean’s body pressed against me, his warmth enveloping me as his fingers slipped between my thighs, teasingly entering me. I gasped, my nails scratching the slick tiles of the shower as the sensation of him overwhelmed me.

“Morning, beautiful,” he murmured against my ear, his voice low and gravelly, sending a thrill down my spine. His fingers moved expertly, finding that sweet spot inside me that made my legs weak.

The sounds coming out of my mouth filled the room, echoing off the tiles as he worked me with a fervor that sent shockwaves of pleasure racing through me. I leaned back against him, relishing the way his body pressed against mine, our skin slick with water and desire.

“Dean,” I breathed, barely able to form coherent thoughts as his fingers continued their delicious exploration. “You’re so good at this.”

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my skin. “I aim to please,” he said, his fingers moving faster, deeper, pushing me closer to the edge.

The tension in my body built quickly, the heat pooling in my belly as I moved against him, seeking that sweet release. I could feel his lips trailing along my shoulder, his breath hot against my skin, urging me on as he pushed me further.

“Let go for me, Y/N,” he whispered, and with those words, I surrendered completely. The pleasure washed over me like a tidal wave, crashing down as I cried out his name, my body trembling with each pulse of ecstasy.

He continued to work me through my climax, his fingers relentless as I rode the waves of pleasure. When I finally came back down, breathless and spent, I turned to face him, my heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and satisfaction.

“God, you’re amazing,” I said, looking up into his eyes, which sparkled with mischief and lust.

“Just getting started,” he replied, a wicked grin spreading across his face. And with that, I knew the morning was only going to get better.

He teased his hard length against me, a wicked grin on his face. “Think you can take it?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

“Not in the shower,” I said, half-laughing, half-breathless from the heat of the moment.

In an instant, he scooped me up, throwing me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. “Then let’s change the venue,” he declared, carrying me to the bedroom with a playful swagger.

“Protection?” he asked, a hint of concern crossing his features as he set me down on the bed. “Fuck,” I said while looking in my nightstand, my heart racing. “I don’t have any.”

Dean let out a heavy sigh, the air leaving his body like a balloon deflating. “Then we’ll have to wait until tonight,” he said, falling back onto the bed, his frustration mingling with desire.

“Maybe it’s a good thing,” he added with a teasing smirk, trying not to show his disappointment. “Or we’ll be late for work.”

I couldn’t help but to feel sad at the thought, the tension from moments ago shifting into something heavier. “Right, because you never showed up late with a girl on your arm,” I replied, rolling my eyes . But I noticed how he was a little sad.

Dean turned to face me, his expression softening. “I just want to make sure it’s right, this time” he said, his voice sincere. “You’re worth the wait.”

His words sent a warm rush through me, and I smiled back at him, feeling the connection between us deepen. “I guess we’ll just have to hold off, for now,” I said, trying to keep my tone light despite the simmering desire still lingering in the air.

“Trust me, tonight will be worth it,” he replied, winking at me before sitting up. “But for now, let’s try to get through the day without me losing my mind, thinking about what’s coming later.”

“Agreed,” I said, taking a deep breath to center myself as I swung my legs off the bed. “But you better believe I’m going to be thinking about it all day.”

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “You’re trouble, Y/N. I can’t wait.”

--

And as we got ready for work, I couldn’t shake the excitement building in my chest for what tonight might bring.

It wasn’t even lunchtime when I got a text from Dean that sent a thrill through me: **Rock hard, can’t stop thinking about those lips.**

I grinned at my phone, my heart racing. **I know a remedy, Lunch in my office? ** I replied quickly.

A few moments later, I heard a soft knock on the door. I quickly locked it and pushed him against it as soon as I opened the door, my body colliding with his in a rush of heat and urgency. Stealing a few rushed rough kisses.

Kneeling in front of him, I wasted no time, my hands working his pants down before wrapping my fingers around his thick length as I took him into my mouth. I moved quickly, expertly, my tongue swirling around him as I focused on driving him wild.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head fell back against the door, his hands gripping my face, urging me deeper. I went faster, my throat constricting as I gagged around him, the sound echoing in the small office space.

“Can I?” he asked breathlessly, his eyes dark with desire. I nodded, eager to give him everything he wanted.

With a firm grip on my face and hair, he began to thrust his hips harder, each thrust sending tears streaming down my cheeks. The pressure built as I surrendered to him, the overwhelming pleasure and intensity making me dizzy.

“God, you’re incredible,” he muttered, his voice a mix of admiration and lust.

I could feel him getting closer, and I reveled in the way he lost control, the way he used me as he chased his release. The tears mixed with the warmth of my excitement, but I loved every second of it, the rawness of our connection fueling my desire.

“Y/N,” he groaned, his voice strained. “I’m so close…”

I tightened my lips around him, sucking hard, humming in encouragement, wanting to feel him let go. With a few more thrusts, he finally found his release, filling my mouth as I swallowed every drop, my heart racing with exhilaration.

When he finished, he pulled back, panting heavily as he looked down at me, his expression a mix of awe and satisfaction. “Damn,” he said, his voice still shaky. “You... I.... fuck... I had no idea you'd meant it."

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and shot him a cheeky grin. Dean lifted me on top of my desk, standing in between my thighs. "For tonight, your place or mine?” Dean asked, his eyes glinting with mischief.

I thought for a moment, a flutter of excitement coursing through me. I had never been to his place before, and the idea of exploring that side of him sent a thrill down my spine. “Yours,” I replied, my heart racing at the prospect.

“Good choice, I'll order in, add some candles." he said, a playful grin spreading across his face. "And show you every. single. corner."

--

Taglist: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch

Wow! That was hot.

Between power and freedom

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

The kiss was soft at first, a tentative exploration, but it quickly deepened as our feelings poured out. I melted into him, my hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped tightly around me. In that moment, everything felt right, and all the complications of our lives faded into the background.

I couldn’t help it; my hips instinctively grind against him, feeling the unmistakable evidence of his desire pressing against me through the denim. Dean groaned into my mouth, the sound sending a thrill through me. His hands found my hips, pulling me closer, urging me to move against him again, and I gladly obliged.

“God, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice thick with need, and I felt a rush of excitement at his reaction. The intensity between us was palpable, and I could feel the heat rising as Dean's kisses became more demanding. He nibbled and bit softly at my bottom lip, making me gasp and pull him closer, the world around us fading further into the background.

His hands roamed over my waist, fingers pinching the fabric of my shirt, teasingly tugging at it. The sensation sent shivers down my spine, igniting a fire within me that I hadn’t known was there. Every brush of his fingers felt electric, heightening my senses and making me crave more

“Dean,” I gasped, my breath hitching as he began to explore the curves of my body more boldly. The way he touched me sent waves of pleasure coursing through me, igniting every nerve ending. I felt bold and reckless, lost in this moment of intimacy.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.” he murmured against my skin, his voice low and rough. I couldn’t think of anything else besides him, this moment, and the hunger in his eyes.

He captured my mouth again, rougher this time, as if trying to consume me. His hands tightened on my hips, guiding me to grind against him, and I felt him harden even more beneath me. The heat between us was unbearable, and my heart raced as our movements became more desperate.

Dean’s lips trailed down my neck, his teeth grazing my skin, leaving a path of fire wherever he touched. The sensation was intoxicating, and I could feel myself arching into him, urging him to continue. “More,” I whispered, lost in the haze of our connection.

“Anything for you,” he breathed, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down my spine. His hands slipped under my shirt, warm and possessive as he caressed my skin. The feel of his touch made my head spin, and I felt the last remnants of hesitation fade away.

His lips trailed down my neck, exploring every inch of my skin with a gentle yet urgent hunger. I felt the warmth of his breath against my collarbone as he kissed lower, his tongue darting out to play along the curve of my shoulder. The sensation sent shivers through me, a wave of desire crashing over my body as I realized just how much I craved him.

I had never felt this kind of need before, and it was heightened by the fact that I wasn’t wearing a bra. The freedom of my skin against his lips, the way he kissed and teased, made every nerve ending sing. He paused for a moment, his mouth hovering just above my skin as if he could sense the vulnerability and anticipation in me.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes darkening with desire. His fingers traced the edge of my shirt, and I felt a thrill at the idea of him seeing me fully, exposed and open to him. The desire to feel his hands everywhere on me was overwhelming.

“Dean…” I breathed, urging him on.

He obliged, pulling my shirt up and over my head, leaving me bare to him. The cool air sent goosebumps racing across my skin, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of his hands. His fingers skimmed down my sides, caressing the curves of my waist, before moving to cup my breasts.

I gasped at the sensation, the way he squeezed gently, sending jolts of pleasure through me. His thumbs brushed over my sensitive nipples, and I arched my back, pressing closer into him. His mouth found its way back to mine as I lost myself in the moment, my body responding to him instinctively.

“You are amazing,” he said between kisses, his voice a low growl that made my heart race. I could feel his excitement radiating from him, fueling my own desires. It was intoxicating, and I wanted more—more of him, more of this connection that felt so right.

His kisses traveled down my body again, trailing lower until his mouth found its way to my chest. His tongue flicked out, teasing my nipple, and I gasped at the electric sensation. I could feel the tension building within me, the heat pooling low in my stomach as he lavished attention on me, his mouth exploring with a mix of tenderness and hunger.

“Dean,” I murmured, lost in the bliss of his touch. “This feels incredible.”

He looked up at me, his eyes dark with desire, and it sent a thrill through me to see the effect I had on him. “You deserve this,” he replied, before returning to his exploration, his mouth worshipping me like I was something sacred.

The world outside faded completely as I surrendered to the pleasure, each kiss and caress drawing me deeper into a haze of ecstasy. I had never felt so alive, so wanted, and I knew in that moment that there was no turning back.

He took his time, every kiss and caress deliberate as he explored what made me gasp and moan. There was a sense of urgency in the air, but he was patient, learning what I loved and how to send pleasure coursing through my body.

As his lips traveled lower, trailing kisses down my stomach, his hand moved to my thighs, teasingly gliding closer to the heat pooling between my legs. I could feel the anticipation building inside me, and my breath quickened as he finally reached the apex of my thighs.

“Hmm,” he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips as he felt the warmth and wetness that awaited him. “Someone’s been waiting for me.” His voice was low, sultry, filled with an unrestrained desire that sent a thrill through me.

His fingers danced lightly over the fabric of my panties, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. I felt a rush of heat at his touch, my body responding instinctively as I pushed against his hand, craving more. “Dean, please,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath, pleading for him to take the next step.

With a wicked grin, he pulled my panties aside, exposing me to his gaze. His fingers found their way to my core, brushing against my wetness with a feather-light touch that made me shudder. The sensation was electrifying, and I couldn’t help but arch my back, pushing closer into his hand.

“God, so wet and ready,” he said, his eyes locking onto mine as he began to explore me more fully, fingers sliding through my folds and circling my most sensitive spots. The pressure of his touch was exquisite, and I felt my body respond to his every movement, heat pooling deep within me.

I let out a soft moan, lost in the waves of pleasure he was creating. His fingers worked in a rhythm that matched the quickening pace of my heart, and I could feel the tension building, coiling tighter with every stroke.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, his voice a low murmur, filled with both curiosity and desire.

“Yes,” I gasped, my breath hitching as he pressed his fingers deeper, curling them in a way that sent me spiraling. “Oh, Dean, yes.”

With that encouragement, he became bolder, his fingers working with confidence as he found the rhythm that pushed me closer to the edge. I could feel my body responding, every nerve ending alive and tingling with sensation.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. The combination of his fingers inside me and the pressure on my clit sent me over the edge, and I surrendered completely to the pleasure.

With a gasp, I felt my release wash over me, waves of ecstasy crashing through my body as I clung to him, my fingers tangling in his hair. Dean watched me with a look of pure admiration and lust, and I knew that in this moment, we had crossed a line that would change everything between us.

As the last tremors of pleasure faded, I opened my eyes to find him still watching me, a satisfied smile on his lips. “You’re incredible,” he said, his voice low and raspy. “But we’re not done yet.”

Before I could respond, he shifted his position, capturing my lips with his again as he moved to take control of the moment, and I knew that this was just the beginning of something exhilarating.

He sunk down, sitting on the floor, his hands gripping my thighs as I knelt on the couch, holding onto the back for support. The thrill of anticipation coursed through me as I felt his breath against my most sensitive area, and I couldn't help but shudder with desire.

“Dean…” I whispered, my voice a mixture of longing and need, but the sound was barely out of my mouth before he buried his face between my thighs. The sensation was electric, and I gasped, my body instinctively responding to his every move.

He was like a man starved, devouring me with a fervor that made my head spin. His tongue explored me in the most delicious ways, teasing and tasting, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through my body. I clenched the back of the couch tighter, trying to steady myself as I felt waves of ecstasy building again.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, lost in the intensity of the moment. His hands roamed over my hips, holding me steady as he lavished attention on my core, swirling and flicking his tongue with a precision that made me writhe. Each stroke sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through me, and I could feel myself teetering on the edge once more.

“You taste so good, so sweet." he murmured against me, the vibration of his voice sending another thrill through my body. He paused for a moment, looking up at me, his eyes dark with desire and lust. I could see the hunger etched on his face, and it only fueled my own need.

“Don’t stop,” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper, urging him to continue.

He wasted no time obeying, diving back in with a renewed vigor. His tongue moved expertly, and I felt my body responding, rolling my hips against him as I chased the pleasure he was giving me. I was completely lost in the sensations, the world outside disappearing as all that mattered was the way he was making me feel.

With each flick of his tongue, I could feel the tension building, the sweet pressure coiling tighter and tighter within me. I was so close, and the urge to let go overwhelmed me. “Dean, I’m—” I gasped, the words tumbling out as my body began to tighten.

“Let it go, Y/N,” he encouraged, his voice low and deep. “I want to feel you.”

With that permission, I surrendered completely, the waves of pleasure crashing over me as I let go. My body shook with the force of my release, and I cried out, the sound echoing through the room as I came undone beneath him.

He continued to taste me through my climax, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until I was left breathless and trembling, the aftershocks radiating through my body. Finally, he pulled back, his face glistening with me, and a triumphant grin spread across his lips.

He kissed my thigh, the heat of his breath sending shivers through my body. “Fuck, your taste… I’m so addicted,” he murmured, his eyes filled with a primal hunger. “I could do this all night.”

I whined softly at his words, the sound escaping my lips before I could stop it. The intensity of what he was doing to me, the way he was savoring every moment, made me ache for more. “You want that?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he pulled me closer, his tongue teasing me, triggering another wave of pleasure.

“YES” I gasped, my body responding instinctively to his every movement. “More... Dean… please.”

He smiled against me, his hands gripping my hips tightly as he began to pull me against him, guiding my movements as he worked his magic. “Ride,” he commanded, his voice a deep growl that sent a thrill through me.

Without hesitation, I obeyed, my hips rolling and grinding against his mouth, seeking out that delicious friction that made my head spin. The sensation of his tongue sliding inside me, combined with the way he was urging me on, made me feel powerful and consumed all at once.

“Yes, just like that,” he encouraged, his voice muffled but filled with need. I could feel the heat pooling low in my belly, and with each movement, I chased that high, letting my body take over as I rode him harder.

The pleasure was building once again, my body responding to him like a flame to a spark. I could feel myself getting closer, the familiar coil tightening in my core, and I knew I wouldn’t last much longer.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he groaned, his hands moving to my ass, gripping and squeezing as he guided me, forcing me to go harder."

His words drove me wild, pushing me closer to the edge. “Dean, I—” I gasped, but before I could finish, he pulled me down to him, his mouth devouring me once again, tongue dancing inside me with a fervor that made my entire body shake.

“Come for me, Y/N,” he urged, his voice a low rumble that echoed in my ears. “I want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

With those words, I teetered on the brink, and with one final thrust of my hips, I let go completely, surrendering to the pleasure as my body exploded in waves of ecstasy. I cried out his name, the sound ringing in my ears as I came undone, every nerve ending igniting in bliss.

He held me tightly as I rode out the waves of pleasure, his mouth still working against me, drawing out every last ounce of ecstasy. When I finally came back down, panting and breathless, I looked down at him, seeing the satisfaction in his eyes.

I moved off his face, my breath still shaky as I glanced down and noticed the wet spot on his pants. Did he just come with me? The realization sent a thrill through me, and I couldn't help but smile at the effect I had on him.

--

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*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

A few more weeks went by, and I noticed a shift in Dean. He started coming into my office more often, lingering to chat about work or to bounce ideas off me. It was a welcomed change, but it also felt complicated. I tried to be genuinely happy for him as he talked about adjusting to the idea of becoming a father, though it tugged at my heartstrings.

Bobby had asked me to be Dean’s right hand while he took on some of the responsibilities that Sam and Dean used to handle. “He needs support, and I trust you,” Bobby had said with a serious tone. I appreciated the confidence he had in me, but I also felt the weight of the responsibility.

One afternoon, Bobby knocked on my door, his expression serious. “Can we have a heart-to-heart?” he asked.

“Of course, what’s up?” I replied, motioning for him to sit.

“I just want to talk about Dean,” he began, his brow furrowing. “I know you two have gotten closer, and I don’t want you to break his heart or make his head spin if you care for him.”

“I get it, Bobby,” I said, nodding. “I know he needs to be there for Jo. It’s just… it’s complicated.”

Bobby sighed, rubbing his temples. “I’m concerned about him and Sam. They’ve both been through so much, and with the baby situation… I just want to make sure we’re not adding to their stress.”

“I understand,” I replied, feeling a sense of unease settle in my stomach. “I care about Dean, but I know my place, really”

After our talk, I left the office feeling heavy-hearted. I wanted to be there for Dean, but I also wanted to respect the boundaries he had with Jo. As I got home that evening, I noticed a figure leaning against my door. It was Dean, and he looked utterly defeated.

“Dean?” I asked, my heart racing as I rushed to him. “What’s wrong?”

He looked up at me, his eyes glassy and red from tears. “She… she was never pregnant,” he said, his voice trembling. “She lied to me.”

I felt my stomach drop as the weight of his words sunk in. “What? Dean, I’m so sorry.”

He pushed past me into the apartment, visibly drunk, the emotions pouring out of him. “I ended things with Jo, but she’s still at my place. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I was about to become a father, and now… it’s all gone.”

“Dean,” I said gently, trying to catch his eye. “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone. You can stay here tonight.”

He looked around, his expression filled with confusion and pain. “I don’t want to burden you.”

“Stop it. You’re not a burden. You’re my friend, and you need a place to crash. The couch is all yours.”

Dean hesitated for a moment before finally nodding, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. “Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I led him to the living room and pointed to the couch. “Make yourself at home. I’ll grab some blankets and maybe some ice cream if you’re up for it.”

He offered a faint smile, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Ice cream sounds great.”

I went to the kitchen and returned with a couple of bowls, handing one to him as I sat on the chair across from him. “So, what happened? Why did Jo lie?”

“I don’t know,” he said, staring down at the ice cream. “I think she thought it would keep us together. We were having so many issues, and I guess she just panicked.”

“Did she know you were serious about wanting to end things?” I asked cautiously.

“Yeah, I made it clear, but it felt like she was desperate to hold on,” he replied, shaking his head. “I didn’t think she’d go that far.”

I watched him as he took a bite of ice cream, the pain in his eyes unmistakable. “You deserve better than that, Dean.”

He looked up at me, vulnerability etched on his face. “I don’t know if I can trust anyone anymore. This whole situation just feels like a mess, and I hate how lost I feel. To think I didn't even wanted the kid, now I'm upset over it."

“Hey... Shh don't say that. Besides you can trust me,” I assured him softly. “I’m here for you, whatever you need. Just take it one day at a time.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “Thanks, Y/N. I appreciate it, really.”

I turned on the TV, letting the soft glow of the screen fill the room. Dean rummaged through my cabinets, finally settling on a bottle of bourbon, while I poured myself a glass of wine. The atmosphere was a strange mix of tension and comfort as we tried to distract ourselves from the emotional turmoil of the day.

After a few drinks, Dean’s emotional walls began to crumble, and he started to relax. He eventually shifted to rest his head on my thighs, his body warm against me as we watched the show.

I absentmindedly ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the tension in his muscles gradually ease as he sank deeper into my touch.

As the minutes ticked by, I could feel his breathing slow and his eyelids droop until, eventually, he fell asleep, his weight heavy against my legs. Carefully, I shifted to remove myself from under him, making sure not to wake him.

I placed a pillow under his head and tucked a blanket around him, making him comfortable before heading to the bathroom.

Once I was cleaned up and had changed into my underwear and a tank top to go to bed, I realized I had forgotten my phone in the kitchen. I made my way back, walking softly, not to disturb Dean.

As I stepped into the living room, I heard his deep, sleepy voice tease me. “Sexy,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he blinked awake.

I rolled my eyes, trying to laugh it off. “Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, remember who's couch you're on,” I shot back, walking past him to grab my phone.

But as I turned to head back to the bedroom, he reached out, grabbing my wrist and pulling me into his lap. I was taken aback, surprised by the sudden shift. His grip was firm yet gentle, his gaze intense as he looked up at me.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice low and serious, the playful tone fading. His eyes were locked on mine, then drifted downward, resting at the level of my breasts. I felt a rush of heat wash over me, and my heart raced as I found myself frozen in place, caught between wanting to pull away and wanting to stay.

Dean look back into my eyes, waited, his expression searching, as if he was gauging my reaction. The air between us thickened, charged with an unspoken tension that had been simmering for weeks. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, the way his thighs felt beneath me, and it made it hard to think straight.

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. The darkness in his gaze pulled me in, and for a moment, all the complications of our lives faded away. I didn’t want to overthink it. I didn’t want to pull away. So I stayed there, on his lap, our proximity igniting a mixture of fear and excitement.

“Dean…” I whispered, unsure of what to say next.

“Y/N,” he replied, his voice deepening further. “I don’t want to pretend like there isn’t something between us anymore. I know things are messy, but I can’t ignore what I feel when I’m with you.”

My breath hitched in my throat. “What do you feel?” I asked, challenging him, needing to hear the words.

He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching mine, the warmth of his breath brushing against my skin. “I feel alive when I’m with you. You make me forget about everything else, even just for a little while.”

The sincerity in his voice made my heart flutter. I knew I should be cautious, that we were walking a tightrope, but in that moment, all I could focus on was him—how he made me feel, how safe I felt in his presence.

“I feel that too,” I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper.

With those words hanging between us, I realized we were both teetering on the edge, and the decision to step forward or back was ours to make.

Dean’s grip on my wrist softened as he gently pulled me closer, his hands resting on my waist. “Then let’s not overthink it,” he murmured, and before I could respond,

his lips were on mine.

--

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Smoky Old Barrooms, Saving Grace & Guitar Leads - Chapter 5 🐞❣️

A/N: 🐞... Okayz my dearest loves, I hope y'all enjoy this, we get to find out why Dean, ain't really doing so well.. sit back and enjoy.💕🐞❣️

Warnings: *18+ Only* sadness, angst, drugs, drinking, Some light swearing... Anything else let me know...😱

Characters: Dean x OC Grace Tucker,

Words: 2400ish 🥰

Cover & Pictures: Pinterest, Canva, Google

Side Note: Please check out my Masterlist for more, epic stories🐞💕

Thick smoke hanging in the dim lit bar, some bluegrass band playing on a small stage in the corner, the harmonies is a little lost over the rowdy crowd, Dean sits alone at a wooden table, them faded jeans on the worn out leather barstool, paired with those brown stetson boots,resting on the rung, is enough to let the waitress give him flirty smiles. But he sure isn’t in the mood for that tonight. 

Letting out a humourless chuckle, life’s going good right… Music has been picking up, since he started doing shows with Grace, who is practically driving him up a wall, “don’t get me wrong”, he talks to no one really, “she’s an amazing singer and songwriter, but everytime it feels like, ya know something might happen between them, she pulls back, and act’s all holier than thou…” he grunts as he takes yet another sip of that liquid gold, fidgeting in his pocket, shaking his head, his hair falls in messy waves, every now and again obscuring his face, his calloused fingers running through the silky soft strands, his other hand throws the clear packet of white powder on the wooden table, taking his credit card out off his wallet, unwrapping the packet, throwing a little on the table, then lowering his face closing the one nostril as he snorts up the white powder, wiping his nose with his thumb and point finger to remove the remnants of the powder, he rolls his shoulders back to remove the tension, then pinching the bridge of his nose, attempting to ease the sting and burn, blinking his emerald orbs a few times as the coke starts taking affect, and he can feel that desired high starting to kick in, taking his glass of whiskey, leaning back in his chair, throwing it in the back of his throat and yet ordering another one.

Tapping his fingertips on his thigh to the music, barely noticing when the cute brunette that gave him his glass of whiskey and her number on the serviette, he smirked, maybe he’d call her to chase the loneliness away. Still lost in his thoughts he feels a small hand on his shoulder, and oh damn that voice of an angel, “Dean, come on, let me take you home?” he turns around, confusingly “Grace?” she nods and smiles “Come on, Cowboy you had enough for tonight” Before he could even find the words he felt the cool fresh air hitting his face, his bloodshot eyes piercing hers “who the hell do you think you are?” she just simply takes his hand, pulls him towards a cab, reluctantly he gets in. She slides into the backseat next to him, giving the driver the address, then turning her gaze towards him, she leans in, her thumb brushing against the stubble, she gasps softly “are you high right now?” He seems surprised.

Her tone urgent but soft, “don’t you dare lie to me Dean,” holding out her thumb, there must’ve been powder stuck in his beard, he rolls his eyes, grunting “Oh get off your high horse, not everyone can be as perfect as you”. Grace huffs a little “I am not perfect”.

Dean crosses his arms over his chest, ‘keep telling yourself that darling” his tone mocking. She locks eyes with him “get your head out of your behind…” she couldn’t continue with her sentence, as he broke into laughter, tilting her head, “What’s so funny?” He could barely speak through the laughter, but once it died down, he let out “you're such a good little girl, you don’t even swear” shaking his head.

She sneers “just because I don’t use swear words, doesn’t mean that I’m perfect” he chuckles “oh please, we’ve been doing shows together for nearly two months now, I haven’t even seen you drink a drop of alcohol.” As the cab comes to a stop, she lets out an annoyed grunt, “I don’t like the taste” of course that was a lie, she just simply couldn’t drink with all the medication she takes.

He laughs as he stumbles out of the cab. He glances up at the house, it must be her place, and he couldn’t help himself “If you wanted to spend the night with me you could’ve just asked” her eyes widens and her jaw drops “Excuse me.. I’m not that kind of woman” he shook his head, “of course not, you're practically a nun” she gives him a glare as she unlocks her front door, helping him to the nearest couch, he plumps down. 

She walks upstairs and comes back down carrying pillows and a blanket, handing it to him “You sleep off your high and drunk behind, we’ll talk in the morning,” he smirks “okay,” patting the couch next to him, “but only if you join me” she shook her head “Goodnight Dean” she walked upstairs again.He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his lips, whispering to himself “Could it be that she cared? And how’d she know where to find him?” It wasn't long before he fell asleep.

Leaving Grace upstairs in her bedroom, her chest heaving a little, trying to breathe in deeply, calming herself, the doctor clearly said, don’t get upset, don’t exert yourself, but when her friend called her tonight, letting her know that Dean didn’t look so well, she knew she had to go and help him. Only because she’s a good person, not because she’s fallen for him, head over boots,sliding down the door, “Dammit Dean Winchester, what have you done to me?” she mumbles to herself, her hand over her chest, he drives her insane with all his inappropriate jokes and sayings, but deep down she knows he’s a wonderful, kind man, who’s just hurting, and she’d be damned if she doesn’t just help him to leave the booze and drugs before she leaves this earth.

After awhile she makes her way to the closet getting into comfy clothes, then she makes her way downstairs, softly she could hear the little soft snores coming from Dean, she made her way to the kitchen, taking her medication, which is honestly just a bunch of pills, so she doesn’t feel pain the entire time, looking down at the bunch of pills in her palm,mumbling to herself, “why do I keep taking it? Not like it’s helping her in any way or form” she threw them back in her throat, quickly swallowing them. Sighing, quoting her Pastor again, “No Gracie, you got to keep the faith.” she looks up at the ceiling, “I’m trying”. Turning around making her way to the living room, covering Dean up with a blanket, making sure he is comfortable, she removes them stetson boots, neatly placing them next to the coffee table.She softly walks upstairs and gets into her bed, letting out a breath, whispering to no one “Please let me wake up tomorrow, and oh if it is Your Will, would you please let me see my sister get married?” with those last few words, like she prayed so many times before she fell asleep.

The orange-yellow glow peeking through the window, feeling extra bright as his emerald green eyes flutter open, immediately holding his aching head, he looks around still a little disorientated, then remembering little pieces here and there, Grace brought him here, to sleep it off, he winches as he sat up straight, remembering the things he told her, his face meets his palms, muttering to himself “what the hell, I messed that up” he takes his boots and pull ‘em on, gets up and find his way to the front door, walking without saying goodbye or thank you. Walking down the street, his head pounding, his hands in his jean pockets, cursing himself mentally for everything he said last night, she’ll probably never forgive him. He walks past the graveyard, stopping in his tracks, he wanders inside, straight towards Kevin Tran’s headstone, kneeling down, his hand running over the black-greyish marble, the surface smooth, but cold, a stark reminder of how he feels some days, cold, empty with a heart as hard as this stone. He starts to whisper, “Hey buddy, I know it’s been awhile and yesterday was your birthday, what you would’ve been in your twenties by now” he chuckles “you could’ve drank a beer with me man” his face saddens “sit man, I went to your mom yesterday, she still blames me for your death that day” he lets out a shaky breath “don’t get me wrong buddy, I don’t blame her, I blame myself, if only I didn’t drive that day” his hand runs over the engraved letters, falling to his knees, thinking about that day, he didn’t drink back then, no it was round about Christmas, there were a thin layer of ice on the road, shining like glass as the moonlight reflected on it, just coming from a show, it was late and he promised Kevin’s mom he’d bring him home safely, oh it was Kevin’s dream to become a famous rockstar, so he wanted to give the kid a chance, everyone has to start somewhere right?  So he gave Kevin a spot as a back-up guitarist. His breathing became ragged as he remembers as the turn came up, the car slid on the ice, making it impossible for Dean to stay in control of the vehicle, oh but he tried his best, but the damn ice were to slippery making it difficult to control as he saw the single guardrail that marked the border between the pavement and thin air, he tried to brake, he tried everything, but before he could register what was happening the car plunged into the darkness over that cliff, he can still hear Kevin’s screams as the car went over that jagged rocks and into the darkness, somehow flipping the car to its side and into a tree, it’s front crumpled like a soda can, leaving Dean and Kevin unconscious for hours.

When he came to, he could hear the sirens of the first responders and he tried his best to wake up Kevin, despite the tree branch that were sticking through his torso, towards his back, sticking out behind the seat, the blood trickling down, but it was like he didn’t even notice, he just tried to wake up Kevin, shaking him, screaming at him, but nothing, later he found out by the coroner that he was dead on impact, and Dean well he was left with an injury so severe that he nearly died, and oh how sometimes he wished he did, because the guilt is such a heavy burden to carry. The only thing he got from that accident, was months of being in the hospital, losing his girlfriend Lisa, and later on as he got out of the hospital, with still a painful back, he somehow got addicted to opioids and later it was cocaine and booze, woman every night, then eventually his own brother Sam stopped talking to him, it’s been years now and he still can’t seem to shake it. He cleared his throat, speaking with a slight gruff “Till next time buddy” he patted the headstone and got up. Walked out of the graveyard, feeling empty, guilt ridden and numb.

As he walked further than the road, he realised that tonight was a big night for him and Grace, they had quite a big show coming up, he inhaled and exhaled knowing he need to be his best tonight, despite his cockyness he knew his sales was down and to be honest music was the only thing keeping him alive. His mind started racing, Grace saw him, drunk and high - is she still going to want to sing with him tonight? Will she ever talk to him again? Is there a possibility of the two of them being something more than just fellow musicians? He shook his head slightly - 'stop overthinking’ he muttered, then his phone got a text from Bobby, his heart sank as he read… “we’ve got a problem boy, a big problem…”.

@jackles010378 @winchesterwild78 @k-slla @angelbabyyy99

The Demon and Me pt 2

Master List 

Characters: Demon Dean x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Demon Dean, Angst, Language, SMUT! 

TW: Demon Dean is very rough in bed. The sex will be consensual, however I wanted to write a warning because it’s not going to be sweet and fluffy. 

A/N: Oh Demon Dean…he makes me feral-sorry not sorry. Just a short story that popped in my head. I have a ton of chapters for other stories half written, but I couldn’t help myself. Dean is now a demon and the reader is left with the weight of his absence, he shows up in her hotel room, and leaves her reeling, Sam and Cass arrive, and Cass gives the reader some unexpected news. 

Minors DNI 18+

A panic filled my body. Then the light turned on. “Looking for this darlin’?” Dean was standing in my room, holding my demon blade. I gasped, “Dean.”

“Hey sweetheart, looking good in my shirt.” His eyes flashed black and then green. I grabbed the blanket and covered my exposed body. 

“Dean, what are you doing here? How did you get in here” I knew the question was stupid before I even asked it. He knows how to pick a lock. That’s how he got in. 

He stepped closer, tossed the knife to the side and smirked, “I couldn’t stay away from you. Your smell is intoxicating. I need you baby.” 

I pulled the blanket up further as he stepped closer. My head low and I had to bite my lip to keep the tears at bay. I knew he was still a demon, but hearing his voice and seeing his green eyes look at me like he loves me was just too much. 

“Dean, I’m not your baby anymore. You don’t love me. You chose this over me, over us.” I couldn’t look at him. My voice was shaking and I felt the sting of the tears. 

Dean stepped to the side of the bed I was on. The one I always slept on, away from the door. Dean’s side was closest to the door so he could protect me. At least that’s what he always told me. 

I could feel his body heat. Then his hand gently cupped my face and turned it up and towards him. I looked at him, his face was soft and I thought I saw the love he had for me. 

“Sweetheart, please. I do love you. I want to be with you. You swore you’d love me no matter what. Remember Cass said we’re soulmates. We belong together, no matter what happens.” 

Tears started to fall, his thumb gently wiping them away. I instinctively leaned into his touch. It had been so long. 

“What about the girl from the bar?” I asked in a soft voice. “What about her? Why would I want her when I have you?” 

My breath hitched, “Dean, I..” I couldn’t finish the sentence, he captured my lips in a soft kiss. My mind is reeling. He was so gentle I lost myself in his kiss. I got up on my knees, meeting him and kissing him deeper. His hands gently pulled me to his chest, and I moaned. 

I pulled back, needing air and I looked in his eyes. They were the most beautiful shade of green I’d seen. “Dean, I miss you. Please..” Dean’s hands ran up my body, tracing every curve I’d learned to love because he loved them. He removed the shirt and his lips trailed down my collar bone and to my full breasts. 

My head leaned back and I moaned. My body responding to his touch, I could feel the slick forming between my thighs. I knew my panties were soaked. Dean leaned my body back and he positioned himself between my legs. His bulge pressing against my panties. 

His hands and lips trailed over my body, he kissed every scar and every stretch mark like he was memorizing my body again. Dean’s hands stopped at the hem of my panties, his eyes flicked to mine. I nodded and lifted my hips. My mind screamed at me to stop, but my heart and my body needed him. 

As he removed my panties his hands slid in between my folds. I heard a soft growl from his lips, “All this for me sweetheart?” I moaned and nodded. “Use your words.” “Yes, Dean, please I need you.” His tongue and mouth attached to my clit and pussy. I quivered under his touch. 

He sucked and licked like a starved man. I came almost instantly. Dean lapped up my juices. I moaned and squirmed under him. His grip tight on me as he pushed me towards another release. I came almost as fast the second time, this time his name leaving my lips loudly. 

As Dean helped me ride out my second release my senses were completely gone. Dean, my Dean was the one making me feel like this. My heart ached for it to be true. 

As Dean picked his head up, smiling down at me in my euphoric state. “Mmm look at you sweetheart. You tasted so sweet, different but sweet, almost new.” I smiled up at him and pulled him down to kiss my lips. “I love you, Dean.” 

A smirk tugged on his lips. Dean pulled his shirt over his head and removed his jeans and boxers. His hard length sprang free. I bit my lip, I really missed him. “Dean, baby, please take me.” Dean positioned himself between my legs and his green eyes turned black as coal. 

I gasped as he slammed his cock deep inside me. “Dean, baby, come back to me. I don’t want you like this, please.” “Oh baby girl, you wanted this, remember?” His eyes flashed back to green, but he kept up his brutal pace. 

He would pull out and slam back inside, hitting my cervix and pulling a half scream, half moan from my mouth. “Oh this pussy, it’s all mine.” My legs were in the air, draped over his shoulder as he kept slamming into me. My tits were bouncing so much they started to hurt. 

Tears formed in my eyes. Dean was never this rough, but god my body craved him. Dean held me down, slipped one of his strong hands around my throat. “You take my cock so good baby. Fuck! This pussy was made for me. You better not let anyone ever fuck you. You, your pussy belongs to me.” 

I felt like I was going to pass out, throw up and cum again. Dean’s mouth covered mine in a deep, hard kiss. “Dean, please, slow down.” I begged. “No! I will take you how I want. You’re mine.” I laid under Dean, feeling his hands grip my body tight as he pounded into me. 

In one swift movement, Dean had flipped my body over and pulled me on my knees. He slammed into me, pulling my ass up and pushing my face into the pillows. His large hands gripped my hips as he continued his brutal assault on me. Then without warning his large hand came down and smacked my right ass cheek, hard. I yelped in pain.

Dean was getting close. “I’m going to fill this little pussy up with my seed. Fuck a baby into you. I know you want that.” “Oh Dean, please baby, not like this.” My pleas fell on deaf ears as tears fell. Dean was spilling his hot seed deep inside me. His grunts and groans filled the room. 

After he came he stood, put his clothes back on and left without a word. I laid on the bed naked, a complete mess and utterly alone. I was ashamed I gave into him, and my heart broke because he used me then left. 

I felt his cum spilling out of me. As I got up to clean myself, I winced at the pain in my body. Dean’s marks were peppering my skin and between my legs was so sore. 

I allowed him to use me and now he’s gone again. I cleaned myself up, laid a devil’s trap out, something I should have done before, and crawled back into bed. The smell of Dean on the sheets and my body. I felt a sickness in the pit of my stomach that filled my body. 

As I laid there I felt the bile creeping up my throat. Throwing the blanket back, I leaped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. I sobbed as I began to vomit. Emptying what little contents there was into the toilet. 

After I was sure I was done I flushed the toilet and brushed my teeth. I crawled back into bed, pulled the blanket around me and exhaustion took over. 

The next morning I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. I looked at the phone and it was Sam. I had no idea what I was going to tell him, how could I tell him I found Dean, allowed him to use me and now he’s gone again. I felt the familiar feeling fill my stomach, I was so ashamed of what I had allowed, it was making me physically sick. 

I answered the phone, voice very weak, “Hey Sam.” “Oh thank god! Y/N, where are you? I got your note and called your sister. She said you broke down and had to stay waiting on the part. Are you okay? You sound off.” 

“No, I’m not. I found him, Sam. I found Dean and Crowley. I wasn’t looking and they were in the bar I went to last night. Sam I…” My voice trailed off. Not sure how much more I could admit. “Y/N, Cass and I are on our way. Tell me where you are. You shouldn’t be alone.” 

I sighed and told him where I was. “We will be there soon, and Y/N, it’s going to be okay. Just stay away from him until we get there.” I thought to myself that was easier said than done. Even though Dean was brutal last night, my heart and body ached for him. I still loved him, and would never give up hope he still loved me. 

After a few hours of laying in the bed I decided to take a hot shower and go find something to eat. Before I left the room, my phone went off with a text notification.

Crowley: I told you to stay away from him. Now all he can talk about is how you tasted last night, how it was different, sweeter, innocent.

Me: I woke up with him in my room you asshole. I didn’t invite him over. Besides, I have no idea what the hell he’s talking about. 

Crowley: No, but you definitely invited him in, didn’t you. Now you’ve complicated things and you’re going to pay.

Me: What’s wrong Crowley, is there a little trouble in paradise? His love for me is too strong to keep up this bro fest? You know if you hurt me, Dean will never forgive you. It doesn’t matter how long he stays a demon, I know his love for me keeps me protected, and you know it too.

Crowley: We’ll see.

I sighed as I put my phone away. Walking outside the sun was shining and the air was cool. I walked to the diner on the corner to grab some food and saw Bubba. “Well howdy, Miss. I was about to call you. I was able to get in touch with my friend and he has a hose that will fit. His wife is going to deliver it later today so I should have you up and running by this evening.” “Oh that’s great, thank you so much.” He nodded and walked away.

I walked into the diner, I could hear the clinking of dishes and chatter fill the room. The waitress smiled and told me to sit wherever I wanted, so I grabbed the corner booth at the back of the diner. Dean had taught me to find the furthest table from the entrance so I could see everyone coming and going. 

The waitress came over and took my order. I sat stirring my coffee, a weird feeling creeping up from inside. I played last night over and over in my head, along with what Dean and Crowley kept telling me about me “tasting different, sweeter, or smelling like vanilla and cookies.” It was really strange. In all the time Dean and I had been together, he had never said that to me. 

By the time my food came I was so deep in thought I didn’t realize it had arrived. “Ma’am, here’s your food.” The waitress’ words pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up and smiled, “Thank you.” She nodded and walked away. 

I ate what I could, still feeling sick, paid my bill then left. I decided it was probably a good idea to stay in the room until Sam arrived. When I got back to the room, I turned on the TV, laid down and fell back asleep. The dream I had sent my head reeling. 

*Dream*

Dean had just gotten home from work. He loved his job as a mechanic and was working towards his own shop. I stayed at home working towards my degree. Dean and I were also expecting. Our first child, a boy, was due in a little over 3 months.

I hadn’t realized I was pregnant until I kept getting sick and Dean jokingly brought home a pregnancy test. Taking the test into the bathroom I sat it down, walked away and forgot about it. Dean and I had just sat down for dinner when he asked if we knew if I was knocked up yet. I gasped and told him I forgot about the test. Dean and I went to the bathroom and saw the two lines. 

We were shocked, excited, but shocked. Dean had been having Cass come down at least twice a week to check on me and the baby. It was endearing at how excited and scared he was. When we found out I was having a boy, Dean beamed with pride. 

As I stood cooking dinner, Dean had just come home, showered and walked up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my pregnant belly, kissed my cheek and rubbed my belly. “How are my babies today?” He asked softly in my ear. “We are good, we’re glad Daddy is home, though.” 

Dean smiled, spun me around, kissed my lips and said, “I’m glad I’m home too. I missed you two.” “I love you, Dean.” “I love you too, Y/N.”

*End of Dream*

As Dean said he loved me in the dream I woke up, reeling. My heart ached for that life. A normal life, Dean back being Dean, and us together with children. Now with him as a demon and gone, that isn’t possible. 

When I looked over at the clock I realized I had been asleep for hours. I looked at my phone and saw a text from Sam.

Sam: Hey, we are about half an hour out. When we get into town we will head straight to you.

You: Hey, sorry I was asleep. It’s been about 30 minutes since you sent that text, are you close?

As I hit send there was a knock at the door. I walked over, looked through the peephole and saw Sam. I unlocked the door and opened it. 

“Hey Sam, Cass.” Sam pulled me into a hug, “Hey, Y/N. How are you doing? Did he hurt you?” Tears pricked my eyes, “No, Sam. He didn’t hurt me. I just…” My voice trailed off as Cass stepped closer to me, looking concerned.

“Cass, we’ve talked about personal space, buddy.” “Yes, but you smell different, Y/N. You smell like sex, cookies and vanilla.” I whipped my head towards him, “Why the hell does everyone keep saying that. You, Crowley, Dean!” Sam stepped closer, “I don’t smell anything, Y/N.” 

Cass was right beside me and inhaled deeply, “That’s because you’re human. Y/N, you smell like…” His words stopped and his eyes went wide. My heart beat fast.

“I smell like what Cass?” “Y/N, I think you’re pregnant.” The room fell silent. The only sound was the sound of my heart beating wildly in my chest. “Cass, what?” Sam asked, finally breaking the silence. “I think Y/N is pregnant. That’s why she smells like cookies and vanilla. I don’t know why she would smell like sex, though.” I hung my head.

“Cass, are you telling me because I smell like cookies and vanilla you think I’m pregnant?” “Yes, pregnancy always has the same smell, cookies and vanilla.” “But I can’t be pregnant. Dean’s been gone almost 2 months and I haven’t slept with anyone but him.”

Sam stepped closer, touched my arm, “Is it possible, before Dean died and was turned into a demon the two of you had sex and made a baby?” “I guess it’s possible, Dean and I had a lot of sex, so I guess it could be possible. 

I stood in stunned silence. “Y/N, what happened when you saw Dean yesterday?” Sam’s voice low, but full of concern. I hung my head, “I woke up to him in my room, and we…um..” My voice trailed off. Sam’s eyes flashed with understanding, “Oh Y/N, please tell me you didn’t.” My voice barely a whisper, “I’m sorry Sam, he was my Dean again.” Sam gently touched my arm, “No, he’s not. He used you.”

“Don’t you think I know that!? I gave him myself again because I still fucking love him, and after he used me, he just left. Without a word, he grabbed his stuff and walked away. I’m so fucking stupid! Now Cass is telling me I might be pregnant. Sam, what am I going to do? Dean and I wanted children, but Demon Dean, could you imagine him with a baby!?” Tears started falling hard and fast, my chest rising and falling as my breathing quickened. 

Sam didn’t say a word, he stepped closer to me, wrapped me in his arms and held me as I sobbed. “Shh, it’s okay, we will figure this out. First we need to know for sure if you’re pregnant.” 

I nodded and wiped my eyes. Sam said he’d be back, he was going to run to the drug store and get a test and some other things, leaving me with Cass.

The silence was awkward at first, then I spoke softly. “Cass you told me there was a plan for Dean and I, is this what it was? For us to fall in love, for him to become a demon and leave me alone raising our child, without him?” “No, the plan is still in place, you, this child will bring Dean back.” My eyes met his, “What do you mean, Cass?” “This baby is what will help bring Dean back. This child, the product of true love, is destined for great things.” 

I looked at him, not believing what he was saying. I still wasn’t convinced I was pregnant. Then the thought kept playing in my head, what if he’s right. What if I am pregnant and this brings Dean back to me, to us. 

As we sat in silence my heart filled with a mixture of emotions. I was excited at the thought of having Dean’s baby, terrified to do it alone, and even more sad I would have to do it alone. 

What if Cass was wrong, what if Dean, well Demon Dean didn’t care about our child. What if he chose to stay a demon instead of being with me and our child. 

My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Sam walked in holding a plastic bag. He pulled out two different types of pregnancy tests and a bottle of prenatal vitamins. “I didn’t know which one to get and if you are pregnant you should start taking these. He said as he shook the bottle at me. 

I nodded, took the two boxes in my hand and walked into the bathroom, closing the door. 

I grabbed one of the disposable plastic cups I use to rinse out my mouth and collected my urine in it. I dipped the first test in, replaced the cap and repeated it with the second test. 

One of the tests was your standard test, the other was digital. They both took about the same amount of time. I sat on the side of the tub waiting. The few minutes I had to wait felt like it drug on for hours. 

There was a soft knock at the door, “Hey, Y/N, you okay,” Sam asked softly. “Yeah, just waiting. I’ll be out soon.”

Sam didn’t push. He knew you were going through a lot, he was going through a lot. So he figured with this new possibility you were probably extra anxious. 

Your phone dinged indicating the timer was done. You stood on shaky legs, swallowed hard and picked up the first test. Two lines. You softly gasped, picking up the second test, the digital one. Pregnant was on the screen. 

Tears fell as an overwhelming wave of love, excitement, sadness and anger filled your body. You softly placed your hands on your belly. 

You opened the door to Sam standing anxiously, “Well?” He asked as he stepped closer. I looked at Sam and buried my face in his chest, “I’m pregnant, Sam.” Sam held me protectively, “okay, we will figure it out. We will keep the two of you safe.” He then placed a soft kiss on the top of my head. 

I had no idea what I was going to do. 

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Does Dean know? Crowley obviously does.

@foxyjwls007 stay tuned 🫶🏻

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

I knew I had to come up with something soon before my dad lost his shit. It was only a matter of time before he started demanding answers about my progress with Dean and Winchester industries.

During our last phone call, I had explained how unstable Dean's life was with Jo—how their fights seemed to escalate and how much tension hung over him whenever she was around. I also casually mentioned how Dean had taken me to dinner with the investors and Chuck seemed pleased with the arrangement.

“Good work on that,” my dad had said, his voice cold and calculating. “Get more into Dean’s life. Manipulate him. Let him fall in love with you.”

“Yeah, right, like that’s something I’m capable of,” I shot back, rolling my eyes even though he couldn’t see me. “I have a master’s degree; I’m not Cupid.”

“Doesn’t matter. Figure it out, break it down from the inside ” he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

I sighed, feeling the weight of his expectations pressing down on me. But deep down, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had to agree, if only to keep the peace. So I decided to focus on my work like I used to, putting my energy into my job rather than dwelling on the complexities of my feelings for Dean.

Weeks passed, and it became painfully clear that Dean was intentionally putting distance between us. Whenever Jo was around, he acted as if I were air, completely ignoring me while plastering on a smile for her.

I tried to joke or get his attention, hoping to draw out the true Dean I had come to know, but nothing worked. It was like I was shouting into a void, and the more he shut me out, the more frustrated I became.

At work, I kept my head down, throwing myself into projects and trying to prove my worth to Bobby and the rest of the team. I hoped that maybe, just maybe, if I became indispensable enough, Dean would realize he needed me in his life—not just for work, but for something more personal.

But as the days turned into weeks, my attempts felt futile. Whenever Dean and Jo entered the office together, the atmosphere shifted. Jo had a way of commanding attention, her loud laughter and brash comments cutting through the air like a knife. Dean would respond to her every whim, and I was left on the sidelines, watching as the connection I thought we had faded into nothing.

One afternoon, I found myself alone in the break room, pouring a cup of coffee, when Sam walked in. He looked at me with concern, and I knew he could sense the tension in the air.

“Hey, Y/N, everything okay?” he asked, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, just peachy,” I replied, forcing a smile. Sam raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “You sure? You’ve been quieter than usual. Is it about Dean?”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “It’s never mind." Sam frowned, looking thoughtful. “You know, Dean has a lot going on with Jo. He’s dealing with... his own issues. Sometimes he just needs space.”

Space? I thought, the frustration bubbling over. What kind of space? I’m not trying to invade his life; I just want to be friendly. But it feels like I’m competing with her every single day.

But all I said was "sure".

Sam his voice calm. “He’ll come around when he’s ready. He's a good boss, but his personal life just mingles with work I guess.” I nodded, appreciating his advice but still feeling the sting of rejection. “Thanks, Sam."

As I stood there, staring into my coffee cup, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my situation was only going to get messier. I had a job to do, but my heart was tangled in a web of emotions that seemed impossible to untangle.

That evening, as I sat at my desk, I noticed Jo laughing in the hallway. It was a familiar scene, but tonight it hit harder. I clenched my jaw, feeling a mix of anger and sadness. I didn’t want to be this pawn in my father’s game, nor did I want to be the other woman, vying for Dean’s attention while Jo played the part of the doting girlfriend.

With a deep breath, I decided to focus on my work and push the feelings aside. I had to remind myself that I was capable, that I was more than just a pawn in someone else’s game. But as I glanced at Dean, I couldn’t help but wonder how long I could keep this up without losing myself in the process.

--

Another dinner at Bobby's made it painfully clear why Dean had changed.

Jo announced to everyone, with a beaming smile, that she was pregnant. I almost choked on my food, a mix of shock and disbelief flooding through me. I forced a congratulatory smile, clapping along with everyone else, but my heart sank.

Dean, on the other hand, seemed anything but pleased. He sat quietly, his expression unreadable, and I could feel the tension radiating off him like heat waves.

--

The next night, I found myself working late. I had thrown myself into my projects, trying to escape the reality of Dean’s new situation, but my mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

Bobby asked Sam the come back but part time, he wanted me by his side. To share the same title. Sam thought it was a great idea, this way Bobby could train me until his retirement and I would get promoted earlier.

When I decided to leave my office, I noticed a light still on in Dean's office.

I hesitated for a moment before knocking softly on the door. “Hi,” I said, stepping inside. Dean looked up from his paperwork, his brows furrowing as he saw me.

“Hey,” he replied, his voice lacking its usual warmth. He looked downcast, his tie a little lose, his hair messy. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was spiraling. “What are you still doing here?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing. Did you have dinner yet?” I inquired, trying to keep my tone light. He sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “No, I tried to work through it, but I can’t seem to focus.”

“Is it Jo?” I ventured, surprised by my own boldness. Dean looked at me, surprise flickering across his face. “You noticed, huh?” I nodded slowly. “It’s just... I’ve seen... You don’t seem really thrilled about everything.”

He leaned back in his chair, the weight of his thoughts evident. “Just between you and me?” he asked, lowering his voice as if the walls themselves could hear.

“Of course,” I replied, stepping closer and closing the door behind me for privacy, even though we were probably the only two people in the building at this hour.

Dean took a moment, gathering his thoughts. “I don’t think I’m ready for kids,” he finally admitted, his voice strained. “I never pictured myself being a father, start a family, let alone with Jo. I just... I feel trapped.”

My heart ached at his words. I wanted to reach out and comfort him, to let him know he wasn’t alone in this turmoil. “Does she know?” I asked softly, afraid of his answer but needing to know.

He shook his head, frustration mingling with confusion. “No. I mean, how could I tell her? She’s so excited about it. I can’t just crush her like that.”

I took a deep breath, choosing my words carefully. “Dean, it’s not just about her. You have to think about what you want too. This is your life, and it’s a huge decision.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I know, I just… I don’t want to let anyone down."

I could see the conflict etched on his face, the struggle between duty and desire. I stepped closer to him, my heart pounding.

He locked eyes with me, and for a brief moment, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

I felt a surge of hope as his gaze softened. “Still maybe you need to talk to Jo. She deserves to know how you feel, and you deserve to be honest with yourself.”

Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping. “You’re right. I just don’t know how to start that conversation. It’s going to break her heart.”

“I know it’s tough,” I said, my voice steady. He nodded slowly, the weight of my words settling over him. “Thanks, Y/N. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

I felt a warmth spread through me at his words, but I pushed it aside, reminding myself of the boundaries I needed to maintain. “You can always talk to me. I’m here for you,” I assured him.

We stood in silence for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words. I could feel the tension between us, a mix of comfort and longing, but I knew this wasn’t the right time to explore those feelings.

“How about I order some pizza, and I’ll help you with this?” I suggested, hoping to lighten the mood. Dean’s face brightened, and he nodded gratefully.

“Yeah, that would be great,” he said, pulling out his phone. I quickly ordered a couple of pizzas and settled back into the rhythm of work.

We tackled spreadsheets, analyzed figures, and brainstormed ideas for the upcoming projects. The hours flew by, and soon enough, we were both feeling the effects of long hours and stress.

After we wrapped up, I leaned back in the seat in the corner of his office, taking a deep breath to unwind. I kicked off my shoes, letting my bare feet rest on the table in front of me. Dean looked over with an amused smirk as he walked back with two glasses of bourbon in hand.

“Nice footrest you’ve got there,” he teased, handing me a glass. “Try to wear heels all damn day, you'd do the same,” I replied, laughing softly.

Dean took a seat on the table in front of me, his posture relaxed as he placed my feet gently on his lap. "You know, you don't need to wear heels in this company, right?"

Just as I wanted to answer he started to massage them, his fingers digging into the arches of my feet. Ah soft "hm" left my lips. “Is this okay?” he asked, looking up at me with an expression that was both playful and sincere.

“It’s more than okay,” I replied whispering, feeling the tension melt away with each movement of his hands. “I might need to keep you around for personal massage therapy session.”

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the moment. “I charge by the hour,” he quipped, and we both laughed, the sound filling the otherwise quiet office.

The atmosphere felt easy and cozy, and for a moment, the weight of the world seemed to lift. But just as we settled into our little bubble, the door swung open, and Bobby walked in.

“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at the sight of Dean and me in such an intimate position.

“No, not at all!” I exclaimed, pulling my feet back into a more appropriate position.

Bobby chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I hope I’m not stepping on any toes here. I’ve got the latest numbers on the project you two were working on.”

Dean straightened up and regaining his composure. “We were just wrapping things up, anyway. What do you have for us?”

Bobby pulled out a folder and laid it on the table, glancing between us with a knowing smile. “Just wanted to make sure you two had everything you needed before the meeting next week. I’ll leave you to it.”

I couldn’t help but feel a mix of warmth and embarrassment. Dean had dropped the playful facade, returning to his professional demeanor, but I could still sense the underlying tension from earlier.

“Thanks for that,” Dean said to me, leaning back against the table, his expression softening. “I really needed it. You know, you’re pretty amazing at keeping my head straight.”

I smiled, feeling a blush creep onto my cheeks. “Just doing what I can. Besides, you’d do the same for me, right?”

He nodded, a hint of seriousness creeping back into his eyes. “Yeah, I would.”

The air was charged with an unspoken understanding. I knew we were both still navigating our complicated feelings, but in this moment, sitting together in the glow of the office light with the smell of pizza in the air, it felt like we were on the verge of something new.

--

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The talk

Please do not copy my work. likes/sharing/comments are appreciated

The late-night hum of the city outside Y/N's apartment faded into the background as Jensen and Y/N lay wrapped up in each other on the bed, a little out of breath from his welcoming home reunion.

Jensen’s hand absently traced light patterns on her arm as they lay in silence, Y/N’s head tucked under his chin. His fingers slowed, though, the longer they lay there, and his mind seemed to drift to yet another string of insecurities.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, brushing his thumb along her shoulder. “Did I… did I make you happy tonight?”

She blinked up at him, a bit surprised by the question, but she couldn’t help the teasing grin that formed as she leaned in to kiss his chest. “Well,” she started, her tone playful, “you did keep up, old man.”

Jensen gave a short laugh, but his eyes didn’t light up the way they usually did. He shifted, pulling away slightly and propping himself on his elbow to look down at her. His expression had softened, something serious behind his gaze that tugged at her. “Y/N,” he said, voice low but full of warmth. “I… I really need you to be honest with me here.”

She looked up at him, eyes widening as she caught the hint of uncertainty in his usually steady voice. “What do you mean? I never complained did I?”

He hesitated, his hand moving to trace her collarbone in small, slow circles. “I just… I want to know what you really like. I want to make sure… I want to make sure I’m giving you everything you need, everything you want. I feel like I'm... repetitive in my... actions.”

Y/N could feel his gaze, and it made her heart stutter a bit, the way he was looking at her so intently. She reached up to brush a hand through his hair, giving him a gentle smile. “Jensen, I’ve already told you I don't ca—”

But Jensen shook his head, stopping her with a soft smile of his own. “No, no, no. Don't tell me not to care about the age gab or that sex isn’t important or worse that everything I do feels good."

He took a deep breath. "There's too many options, too many ways to guess at it. I don’t want to guess anymore.” He leaned down, his forehead touching hers. “I need to know exactly what you want. What makes you feel good. What makes you feel… wanted.”

She took a slow breath, both surprised and moved by how earnestly he was asking. She felt her heart warm, realizing how much it must’ve taken for him to ask her this. He was Jensen, after all, strong and experienced and so sure of himself most of the time.

But right now, he looked vulnerable—completely open, just waiting to hear what she had to say. She realised that being married for so long, knowing your partner for so long, was so different from being with someone new.

Exploring each other again was something new for him, and that on tip of the age difference, she had no idea that this was bothering him, not knowing how she felt pleased part from the obvious orgasms.

“Well…” she started, biting her lip as she thought. She felt a blush creep into her cheeks, even though they’d been together for a while now. “Sometimes, when you take control,” she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. “When you let yourself just… do whatever you want with me. That’s what I love. Knowing that you’re letting go, because you trust me, too.”

Jensen’s hand stilled on her shoulder, and he pulled her in a little closer, as if her words had unlocked something. “Is that so?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. There was a look in his eyes now, something that made her feel warm all over.

"I love that you... talk dirty. That while your hands and lips carefully... or roughly move over me, that you call me those petnames."

"And I love the idea that you have more experience, than me." She kissed his lips softly.

"When you say that…” His thumb traced her cheek, and she couldn’t look away from the intensity in his gaze. “I get the sense you like that I’m older,” he teased, a hint of confidence creeping back into his voice.

She felt herself smile, trying not to laugh at the way he phrased it. “Maybe just a little,” she teased right back, sliding her arms around his shoulders and drawing him closer. " I love it when you're confident Jay. I need a man who can handle me, don't treat me like a princess... at least not when you're... fucking me."

Jensen let out a breath, almost as if he’d been holding it. “Good,” he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, “because there’s a lot I’d like to show you.” He chuckled softly, eyes glinting with that hint of mischief she loved so much. "If you think you can keep up, princess."

And just like that, the playful tension between them shifted, a spark reigniting as they both leaned into each other, ready to dive in all over again—this time with nothing left to guess.

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Guys I need to apologise to you all! I'm not ignoring you, my phone is on its way out and I'm not getting any notifications from any of my apps or messages 😣🤦🏼‍♀️

I will catch up with everything you guys have tagged me in soon I promise 😘 love you guys 🥰 ❤️

@nescavaneckdaily @cheynovak @winchesterwild78 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 🫶🏻

@jackles010378 I understand that. Life is running over me right now so I’m not writing like I want or reading things like I want. 🫶🏻