Dean x Sincette (oc) fluff
Just a little headcanon I have for them <3
Dean has been walking around the bunker dressed in nothing but his jeans and belt for the past fifteen minutes, looking for the other half of his wardrobe wear. It takes him fifteen minutes to figure out the obvious, and the moment he does, he’s barging right into the room reserved for his mademoiselle.
“Sin, where’s m— …”
It takes every morsel of his will and strength to not bubble into a wide grin and coo at her. Instead, he lets out a grave, strained sigh. Sincette, lying comfortably on her soft belly, doesn’t look up from the book she’s reading. Her legs fling about in the air daintily, like a cat’s tail does when it’s mildly amused.
“Leaving sentences unfinished is counterproductive, mister Winchester.”
“And taking property without permission is theft.”
She turns to face him, a snarky little smile planted on her lips. Dean folds his arms, knitting his arms together in apparent irritation.
“Give it back, Sincette.”
“Mm, no, I don't think I will.”
Dean almost breaks again, but passes it off as a rub of his mouth. Sincette bats her lashes up at him.
“Last warning.”
This stirs her a little, and her coy smile contracts to a pout, eyes bright and wide up at her boyfriend. One second of resilience passes before Dean crumbles into soft giggles, his crow’s feet scrunching in delight. Hobbling over, he falls on her small frame like a wall and captures her in a crushing hug.
“HoUH— WAIT—”
Sincette yowls, clobbered under his cute aggression. She wriggles under him in protest, but Dean doesn’t budge, wrangling her up onto his lap and holding her there like a misbehaving cat. He peppers her face in voracious kisses as she scrambles, giggles and playfully tries to shove him away. Expertly firm and yet gentle, he traps both her flailing hands in a practiced handcuff grip using only one of his. Sincette pouts and frowns up at him, subdued. Triumphant, Dean steals a kiss from her rounded lips and plants it on her forehead to flatten her frown. His free hand chuffs at her chin and pokes at her cheeks as he chastises her lightheartedly.
“Why’re you so so naughty, huh? Why d’you gotta steal my stuff? You got prettier shirts than I do.”
She whines, wriggling on his lap unsuccessfully.
“They’re comfortable! Bigger in size, airier and— and they smell like you.”
Dean chuckles and cringes, bemused if not slightly flustered.
“Babe, you don’t know where these shirts’ve been.”
“They’ve been on you and that’s all I choose to take note of.”
“Horrible decision.”
“Love made me take it.”
Chest warming in affection, he brushes his cheek against hers, smiling softly. She leans up to the touch, nuzzling back and peppering the tired flesh under his gemlike eyes in tender, loving kisses. Dean sighs, letting her hands go so he can plant it on the small of her back instead. Free to touch, she now clasps his stubbly face and pulls him to a proper, prolonged kiss. Dean obliges, closing his eyes and melting into the delightful moment. They pull back at the same time but linger close enough to let their warmths fuse. Sincette affectionately rakes her nails along his spiky cheeks, scratching an assumed itch. Ticklish and slightly out of breath, Dean grins sheepishly down at her while hooking just the one button on her undone.
“I need this back, baby. I gotta go out.”
“Take it then, hotshot.”
“I can, if it’s off of you, kitty cat.”
“Exactly.”
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