βΛππΛβ dbf!dean winchester au x reader
β’ sorry, iβm not the best at writing, but i had an idea and had to execute it somehow. β€οΈ this is only a snippet of a fic i want to write, but i wanted feedback (it is most appreciated) and if i should continue writing this! might put it on ao3, but im scared!
warnings : age gap (both adults though)
iβm still writing, and i have no idea what other warning iβll be having, but iβll be updating it as soon as possible.
thereβs something completely intoxicating about wanting dean, especially knowing heβs your dadβs best friend, making him entirely forbidden.
dean being your fatherβs friend, while having an extreme attraction towards him, has created a secretive tension between the two of you that only youβve felt; whether itβd be in the middle of the night when everybody was asleep. dean would often stay overnight after having a few drinks with your dad. heβd be laid up on the couch, watching tv, strongly reeking of whiskey, your heart would beat out of your chest from seeing him.
you were terrified of him, only because you felt like he could immediately read your thoughts; which were hardly appropriate to ever think about, let alone about your fatherβs best friend.
the thought of dean crosses your mind every once in a while. itβs been four years since youβve last seen him now that youβve been off at university and just graduated. since your first year of university, youβve been completely occupied with your boyfriend , adrian.
heβs perfect; your parents love him, every time you visit your parents for the holidays he comes with you. the unfortunate thing is, heβs not dean. as much as you love him, dean has always been in the back of your mind; constantly contemplating on the what-ifs, whatβd itβd be like with him, how he is, if heβs got a wife and family. you barely ask about him when youβre with your parents, but they bring him up once in a while, but it hurts to hear his name and youβd never admit that to anyone.
now that itβs summer, youβre visiting your family for the time being. for the first time in years, adrian wonβt be coming since heβs visiting his family elsewhere.
your parents just picked you up from the airport. the first thing you do is jump onto your bed. it was a six hour flight, and you barely got to peacefully sleep because you were restless the whole flight.
as you plopped into bed, you couldnβt help but fall asleep immediately.
by the time you woke up, the clock on your nightstand read seven-thirty p.m. the time you got home was around twelve p.m; you slept for about seven hours.
your head feels extremely heavy, mouth dry. you got up from your bed to go downstairs for a glass of water, hoping that maybe dinner would be ready too.
as you walk downstairs, you start to hear a crowd of laughter and yelling; sounds like your mom and dad, and a random man. slowly you start to descend downstairs, trying to make the least noise possible, secretly peeking out to see whoβs with your parents. everybody was huddled up in the living room.
your heart dropped. you could recognize that laughter and voice anywhere; it was dean. the first man other than your dad that you ever adored, looked up to. all you could think about was how bad you looked, how your breath smelt, how you smelt overall. before you could even run back upstairs, your dad immediately saw you and called you out.
βhey kiddo, come down. somebody here wants to see you.β he yelled. you cringed so hard, slowly turning around and going back downstairs to greet dean.
βhey, kid. havenβt seen you in a while.β dean smirked, holding his arms out to offer a hug you couldnβt escape from giving him.
βyeah, nice to see you again.β you said under your breath, hoping he couldnβt see how nervous you were and the fact that you just woke up. you gave into his hug, wrapping your arms around him, your face into his warm, brooding chest, smelling of a musky-vanilla cologne. he still smelt intoxicating since you last seen him. his arms completely wrapped around your body, instantly bringing a comforting feeling you havenβt felt in a while, not even a feeling that you felt with adrian. you didnβt want to let go, and it didnβt seem like he did either, but you let go of him anyway.
βhow are you doing?β dean asked, staring at me with his greek eyes, i could barely utter a word out once i caught his glance. βiβm great, dean. how are you?β
he let out a small grin, βthatβs nice to hear, iβm well. i missed you.β your heart skipped a beat, maybe a few beats actually. to hear that he thought of you, even missed you made you automatically flustered. βi missed you too, dean.β smiling awkwardly, hoping the spotlight turns to someone else. for a bit, he just stared at you, looking you up and down before changing the topic and continuing to talk to your parents.
fucking awkward, you thought to yourself. even years later, that forbidden feeling for him never changed.
after the conversation ended between you two, you resumed going back to getting water to rehydrate. the thought of him was still in your head; his scent, his eyes, his smile, his voice. you knew it was wrong, the feeling you feel for him wasnβt appropriate to feeling while being in a four year relationship with your boyfriend.
the cold water hit your throat, but it did absolutely nothing to cool down the sudden, burning heat radiating beneath your skin. you leaned against the kitchen counter, gripping the surface tightly, your eyes fixed on the tile floor as the muffled sounds of laughter drifted in from the living room.
four years. four years of building a perfectly normal, healthy life with adrian. adrian, who called you every night before bed, who bought you flowers just because, and who your father treated like a son. you loved adrian. you really did, or do. but as you stood listening to the low, gravelly rumble of deanβs voice, a terrifying realization washed over you: four years with adrian hadnβt done a single thing to wash dean out of your system.
deanβs scent; that heavy mix of musky vanilla and the faint, underlying trace of whiskey he always favored, seemed to cling to your clothes from that brief, agonizingly perfect hug. your skin still tingled where his large hands had pressed into your back. and the way he looked at you? that slow, deliberate scan from your messy, sleep-tousled hair down to your bare feet before his eyes locked onto yours with that unreadable smirk. it didnβt feel like a man looking at his best friendβs kid. it felt risky, it felt dangerous.
βhey, honey, can you bring out a couple of clean glasses?β your mother called out from the living room, shattering your thoughts.
your chest tightened. you forced a breath into your lungs, blinking rapidly to clear your head. βyeah! regular orβ¦?β
βthe whiskey glasses, sweetie. dean brought over a special bottle to celebrate your graduation.β
you opened the upper cabinet, your hands trembling slightly as you reached for the heavy crystal tumblers. you took three. you wanted to grab a fourth for yourself just to survive the evening, but you knew how that would look.
carrying the glasses back into the living room felt like walking on a tightrope. dean was sitting on the edge of the armchair, his forearms resting on his knees, holding a dark amber bottle. he looked up the second your feet hit the hardwood floor. his gaze caught yours, steady and intense, holding it just a second too long as you walked over to the coffee table.
βthanks, kiddo,β your dad said, taking two of the glasses and setting them down. he looked up at you, his eyes crinkling with pride. βdean was just saying how fast time flies. feels like yesterday he was helping me teach you how to drive, and now youβre a college grad.β
βtime definitely flies,β dean murmured. he poured a generous finger of whiskey into your dadβs glass, then his own, never entirely breaking his perimeter of focus on you. βbut some things donβt change. you still look exactly like the girl who used to steal my flannel shirts when you were a teenager.β
your breath hitched. your dad laughed, completely oblivious, swatting the air. βoh, donβt remind me. she ruined three of your good ones with paint stains.β
βi donβt mind,β dean said softly. his voice dipped, a low register meant just for this room, but it felt entirely directed at you.β his eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, a lazy, knowing grin spreading across his face. βthey looked better on her anyway.β
your heart didnβt just skip a beat; it hammered violently against your ribs, you felt as if it could explode out of your chest immediately. the memory flashed vividly in your mind: sitting on the living room floor at two a.m years ago, wearing his oversized shirt, freezing under his intense stare while your parents slept upstairs.
you swallowed hard, your knuckles turning white against the edge of the glass of water you were still holding. βi, uhβ¦ i should probably change out of my clothes into fresher ones. before dinner.β
βdonβt hurry on our account,β dean said, raising his glass slightly in a silent, private toast before taking a slow sip, his eyes never leaving yours over the rim.
you turned swiftly, and practically fled up the stairs, your heart racing so loud it drowned out the conversation restarting below. closing your bedroom door behind you, you pressed your back against the wood, sliding down until you hit the floor. your phone vibrated in your pocket. you pulled it out.
a text from adrian: just landed at my parents' house! missing you already. tell your mom and dad I said hi. love you.
you stared at the glowing screen, guilt squeezing your stomach like a vice. you loved adrian. you are supposed to be thinking about adrian. but as you buried your face in your hands, all you could inhale was the faint, lingering scent of musky vanilla left on your skin, and all you could see were those sharp, intoxicating eyes watching your every move.
