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Summary: Congrats! You've finally broken Dean Winchester â bikini tops were lost and lips crashed. Now it's time to break some motel pool rules and dive right into that Florida madness.
Part 3 in the One Helluva Drug series
Warnings: 18+ due to language and smut (motel pool sex, fingering), humor, fluff, friends to lovers, Florida
Word Count: 2.3k
Posted on Patreon May 22, 2026
Song Inspo: Slut! â Taylor Swift
A/N: Welcome back to Florida and the third installment in this hot and humorous little series! Get ready to melt in a pool because we're letting every inhibition go in this beautifully crazy state đ« đŠ
Main Masterlist|| DW Masterlist || Tag List
The motel pool glows an unnatural Caribbean blue under the floodlights, water rippling lazily and inviting, the chlorine mesmerizingly addicting against the thick, syrupy summer night.
Florida doesnât do quiet after dark. Even now, with the neon signs buzzing pink and teal like a drunk flamingo under a bruised-lavender sky that refuses to surrender to darkness, the air feels electric with cicadas, distant police sirens, and the occasional splash of something thatâs probably not a fish.
And you? Youâre topless, skin still slick from the pool, your bare tits pressing against Dean fucking Winchester like youâre trying to climb inside his ribs, nipples hardening to aching peaks with every scrape against the damp cotton of his shirt.Â
The kiss lingers like lightning in humid air â slow, searing, and inevitable. His mouth is hot and greedy on yours, tongue sliding deep, tasting like the beer he never got around to drinking and pure, pent-up desperation.Â
His hands roam â big, calloused palms sliding down your bare back, following the trail of water droplets down your spine, mapping your waist with reverent hunger, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts as if memorizing scripture written in skin.
You pull back just enough to grin against his lips, wicked and a little sun-drunk, your voice a velvet dare wrapped in saltwater sweetness. âStrip, Winchester.â
Dean blinks, lips kiss-swollen, breath stuttering, those forest-green eyes â now as dark as storm-tossed mangroves â drifting across the empty parking lot. His gaze roams the cracked pavement and Baby gleaming under the lights. There are no guests, no souls stirring, and even Kyle the gator has retreated into the shadows.
âHere?â he croaks, his deep voice sounding like gravel dipped in raw want, cheeks flushed under freckles that scatter his skin like starlight.
You nod, biting down on your bottom lip, water still dripping from your hair down your tits. âRight here,â you confirm, smirking. âUnless the Sunshine Stateâs finally made you shy. But trust me, Floridaâs not gonna judge us.â
He barks a laugh that sounds half-drowned, a mix of disbelief and surrender swimming underneath. âSweetheart, Florida stopped judging the second that dude grilled fish on his hood.âÂ
He then reaches behind his neck, grabbing the hem of his tee and yanking it over his head in one fluid motion. And Jesus fucking Christ, the sight of him makes your mouth water.Â
Moon-silver and neon-glow illuminate the broad planes of his chest and shoulders, littered with cinnamon freckles across tanned skin, tracing the soft give of his stomach and the light trail of hair arrowing downward and disappearing inside his jeans like an invitation.
Boots thud against concrete next. Then his belt. He pops the button on his jeans slowly, eyes locked on yours like heâs daring you to look away, but you never would. His stare alone causes liquid heat to pool low in your belly. The denim then slides down those thick thighs and bow legs, and fuck, the outline of his bulge in his black boxers is already obscene â impossibly hard, straining painfully, and completely ready for you.
The second he kicks the jeans aside, you barely manage to wait and surge forward, crashing your lips back to his. Tongues tangle, wet and messy. Your bare breasts press against his bare and warm chest now, nipples pebbled from the cool night air and the way his hands cup them, thumbs brushing over the sensitive buds until you moan into his kiss.
And then, with a playful grin and a wicked laugh, you shove.
Deanâs eyes go wide as he stumbles backward, arms windmilling for half a second before he hits the pool with a spectacular splash. Water explodes around him in bursts of turquoise fire and diamond spray.Â
When he surfaces, water streams down his gorgeous face as he pushes wet strands of hair from his forehead. You canât help but giggle when he looks at you equally shocked but stupidly turned on as well.
âYou littleââ he starts, but youâre already launching yourself in after him, bikini bottoms still clinging to your hips.Â
You hit the water smoothly, gliding over to him, and the second youâre close enough, his arms band around you, hauling you against him. You wrap your legs around his waist, grinding down against the hard line of his cock through his soaked boxers. He groans, low and wrecked, hands palming the globes of your ass as you kiss him again â filthy, open-mouthed, all teeth and tongue and years of finally, finally, finally.
Your teeth tug cheekily at your lower lip as your thumbs hook into the sides of your bikini bottoms, shimmying them down your legs underwater. You make a show off it, making sure he catches every second of it as you toss the soaking-wet fabric onto the concrete by the lounge chairs.Â
Deanâs jaw goes slack, ravenous juniper eyes devouring every naked inch of you. âFucking hell, sweetheartâŠâ
Your smile curves like the crescent moon above. âYour turn, Winchester. Fairâs fair in Florida.â
He doesnât argue or even hesitate, shoving his underwear down his hips and kicking it somewhere toward the shallow end. Even through the aquamarine blur of pool water, you recognize the sheer size of his cock â perfectly long, thick, and heavy, tip flushed a deep rose.Â
God, youâd kill to take him into your mouth and see how far heâd get till you choke around him. Maybe if Sam doesnât return anytime soon, you still might find some time to try in the motel room later.Â
For now, though, you just pull him close and wrap your legs around his waist again, naked skin meeting naked skin underwater. You claim his plush lips, slow and deep, tongues dancing like the palm fronds above in the ocean breeze. His cock slides hot and heavy against your belly, and Dean hisses at the contact, forehead dropping to yours.
âFuck, baby⊠you sure?â
Heâs never called you baby before. In fact, you canât remember if you ever heard him call anyone baby before, except for his beloved car, and your heart flutters a little at the thought.Â
You still canât believe you did this. Maybe you did get hexed or possessed down here in Florida after all. God knows you never behaved like this in any of the other forty-nine states. But thereâs an undeniable electricity vibrating through your blood that youâve never felt before, and youâre still not sure if Florida is truly to blame or if itâs all just Dean Winchesterâs fucking fault.Â
You answer by reaching between you, wrapping your hand around his length and stroking him slow and tight, your fingers not even closing fully around his massive girth. Heâs rock-hard, velvet over steel, the head already leaking.Â
âBeen sure for years,â you whisper against his lips, his little grunts of pleasure like the most beautiful song in your ears. âNow shut up and touch me.â
Dean doesnât wait to be told twice, letting his hands explore with exquisite and maddening patience now, no longer rushing. Calloused palms wander up your ribs, groping your tits with worshipful weight, rolling your nipples between fingers till sparks explode behind your eyelids.Â
His mouth trails kisses down your throat, sucking gently at the fluttering pulse there, then lower and lower, lips closing hot and wet over one sensitive peak, teeth scraping skin. You arch into him with a throaty moan that echoes softly through the empty motel lot.
One hand then slips between your thighs, fingers parting your folds and finding you soaked â hotter than the Florida night, slicker than the pool. Two thick digits circle your entrance teasingly before pushing inside your pussy with barely any warning.Â
When he curls them just right, deeply stroking that perfect spot with devastating accuracy, you cry out, head tipping back. The water laps at your tits as he pumps them in and out before his thumb finds your clit, drawing lazy, firm circles that make your hips jerk against his hand and scream for more.Â
âLook at me,â he murmurs, voice husky and commanding.Â
His green eyes are hooded now, pupils blown wide with lust, swallowing the color until only a thin ring of emerald fire remains. He watches every flutter of your lashes, every parted gasp, as he pumps his fingers faster, scissoring them, pressing deeper. The water splashes around your joined bodies in rhythmic waves, cool against the burning heat building inside you.
âGoddamn,â he growls against your neck, sucking a mark there that will surely bloom in more beautiful colors than the Florida sunsets have to offer. âSo fucking tight. This what youâve been hiding from me? This pretty little pussy dripping for me all this time?â
You clench around his fingers, rocking your hips harder against his hand. âDeanâ⊠Oh Godââ
Your nails dig into his shoulders, thighs trembling around his wrist. He doesnât relent even for a second, adding a third finger that stretches you beautifully while his mouth claims yours again, swallowing every desperate sound.Â
The coil in your belly tightens and tightens â sharper, brighter, hotter â until it shatters.Â
You come hard on his fingers â clenching, pulsing, a broken cry spilling into the night. Unfathomable pleasure crashes through you in golden, syrupy-sweet waves, leaving you boneless and gasping against his shoulder as you cling to his chest like youâd drown without him.
But Deanâs nowhere near done.Â
He pulls his fingers free, spins you around gently yet firmly, and presses your front against the cool tile of the pool wall. Your elbows brace on the edge, tits deliciously squished against the slick surface as you still try to catch your breath.Â
Dean crowds in behind you, his massive frame enveloping you, cock sliding hot and heavy between your thighs. He teases relentlessly â dragging the thick, velvety head along your drenched slit, nudging your swollen clit with every pass, coating himself in your release.
âDean,â you whimper, pushing back, chasing friction. âPleaseâŠâ
He leans in, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his breath scorching against your skin. âWant to feel every inch, baby. Want you dripping for it.âÂ
Those lust-drunk eyes stay locked on your face as he notches the head at your entrance, pressing in the barest fraction before pulling back, again and again â torturous, perfect torment.
Only when youâre shaking, begging in broken whispers and moans, does he finally thrust forward â slow, inexorable, stretching you open inch by inch around his considerable girth till heâs buried to the hilt, balls-deep in the tight heat of you. The fullness is fucking harrowing in the best way possible, bordering on overwhelming, a delicious burn that melts into liquid bliss.
âFuck, yes,â you moan, the sound echoing off the motelâs stucco walls. He feels enormous like this, the blunt tip pushing against your cervix.Â
âSon of bitch, sweetheartâŠâ Deanâs groan is guttural, animalistic as his forehead drops to your shoulder, the scruff on his cheeks and jaw scraping your skin. âYouâre practically strangling me.âÂ
Then he begins to move â deep, rolling strokes that send water splashing in time with his hips. He pulls back and slams in again and again, and the angle is destructively perfect â his cock dragging against that spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyes like supernovas.Â
One hand then snakes around to rub your oversensitive clit while the other grips your hip tighter, anchoring you as he fucks you against the wall â harder, faster, hotter. The pool water sloshes wildly around you, cool against overheated skin, and every thrust sends ripples outward like youâre the center of some filthy hurricane.Â
Deanâs mouth is on your shoulder, teeth grazing and biting skin, deep voice rough in your ear. âThatâs it, baby. Take it. Been dreaming about this pussy for years. Fuckinâ years. You and me in this stupid state⊠finally losing our goddamn minds together.â
You push back against him, meeting every merciless thrust, the coil in your belly winding tighter and tighter again. âGive it to me, De. Want you to ruin me.â
He snarls â actually fucking snarls â and fucks you like the world might end tomorrow (which to be fair, it always could in this life). The night spins in watercolor blurs of neon rose, chlorine blue, and moonlit silver. Your second orgasm builds slower but deeper, a gathering storm fed by every filthy praise growled against your ear and the relentless slap of wet skin on wet skin.
His strokes are deep and punishing till all you see is buzzing neon and twinkling stars above. His fingers work your clit faster, pinching and rubbing until your thighs shake.Â
It hits you like a tidal wave, stronger than the first, vision breaking into prisms of color as you clench hard around him, crying out his name into the humid Florida night.
Dean fucks you through it, hips stuttering, chasing his own release. âFuck, baby, gonnaâ⊠whereââ
âInside,â you barely manage to gasp. âCome inside me.â
He buries himself deep and follows with a choked moan, throbbing hot and thick inside you, ropes of cum marking your fluttering walls and filling you to the brim as pleasure wracks his powerful frame.Â
His forehead then drops back to your shoulder, breathing ragged, strong arms wrapping around your waist like he plans on never letting go. The water settles slowly around you both, lapping gently now, as if even Florida is giving you a minute to breathe.
For a long moment, thereâs just panting and the buzz of the motel sign then, cicadas humming a lullaby as the two of you stay locked together, not wanting it to end.Â
Then, Dean begins pressing soft, reverent, open-mouthed kisses along your neck and shoulder before scoffing an amused laugh against your damp skin. âFloridaâs still a goddamn circus, but I think I just found the main attraction.â
You laugh breathlessly, turning your head to catch his lips in a lazy, sated kiss. âTold you. Sink or swim, Winchester.â
He chuckles against your lips. âWell, Florida can still eat my ass.â
You grin broadly and wiggle your brows. âPretty sure thatâs my job now.â
Hope you enjoyed this smutty little summer treat, friends! I'll see you guys back next Friday for another smutty treat with Russell Shaw that will get your heart rate up đâ€ïžâđ„
On July 31, we're then diving back into Glitch đź (If you can't wait that long, Interlude II, Chapter 7, and Chapter 8 are already on Patreon, with Chapter 9 coming this Sunday đ€)
Here, please find the incredible stories written by the talented contestants braving this Storytellers Contest. Please read, enjoy, and give them all the love and interactions they rightly deserve!
Here, please find the incredible stories written by the talented contestants braving this Storytellers Contest. Please read, enjoy, and give them all the love and interactions they rightly deserve!
The heat wave is making you a little crazy. But when it brings a gorgeous stranger and his overheated car to your front door - well, it's not the only thing that gets overheated.
I blame my bestie, Liz ( @jensensgotyoudean ) for this, so I'm dedicating it to her! đđ„° Dividers from @firefly-graphics â€ïž
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 3487
Warnings: Just hot, sweaty smut! đ
It was utterly miserable outside â 111 degrees, humidity like a sauna, not a cloud anywhere in sight.
You had forced yourself to go out, hook up the sprinkler hose that was nestled throughout the flowers around your house. At least they were in the shade of the building, but they were still wilting and sad. You turned the water on and hoped it would soak in and help them survive this apocalyptic heat.
You could feel the sweat trickle down between your breasts, and you tugged at your tank top with the flimsy built-in bra (the only bra you could fathom wearing in this heat), fanning it out from your body in an attempt to cool yourself down, but it was hopeless. At least you werenât stuck in a city full of concrete. You lived on a little acreage a couple of miles from Smith Center, Kansas, Highway 36 in view from your front yard. At least you had green grass and trees. If they didnât dry up and burst into flames like giant tiki torches from the weather.
You had air conditioning in the house, but you were sick of being cooped up inside. So you let the water soak the flowers and went in to grab a glass of iced tea, then sat down on the porch swing, kicking your flip-flops off. Even your cut-offs and tank top felt stifling on your body, but at least you were getting some fresh air. Super-heated, humid, almost unbreathable fresh air.
You heard the rumble of an engine on the highway, squinting to watch as a large, black car came into view from behind the trees, heading east. As it drew near your driveway, you could see what appeared to be smoke pouring out from under the hood. It made the turn into your drive, sputtering as it made its way close to where your car was parked, then died.
You rose to your feet and slipped your flip-flops back on, glancing down at your clothes. It wasnât like you were dressed for company, but it was too late to worry about it now. You tried to see who was behind the wheel, but the sun glinting off the windshield made that impossible, so you shrugged and went down the steps to greet whoever was driving. When he climbed out of the car, your mouth dropped open, and you stopped in your tracks for a second.
You could have sworn the temperature just rose another 20 degrees. This man was a whole other level of hot. Drool-inducing, panty-melting, fantasy-inspiring hot - tall, lean, bow-legged, broad-shouldered, and gorgeous. As you forced yourself to close your mouth, he swore, talking to the car.
âSon-of-a-bitch! Come on, Baby, weâre almost home.â The frown between his brows (even that was attractive) smoothed out a bit as he saw you approaching (once you recovered your ability to walk). âHey, sorry about that. I guess this heat is too much even for my Baby today.â
âI can see that!â
He turned to raise the hood, steam surrounding him as he propped it in place, and you swore you could hear porn music playing in the background as you stared at his biceps. You stifled a groan at the play of muscle underneath his grey t-shirt, which was rapidly growing darker with sweat in the heat and clinging to his back. âIâd better let her cool off.â
âI can hook up the hose so you can put some water in the radiator after it sits for a bit.â You were sounding far less wilted than you had felt before he got out of that car, that was for sure.
He smiled, and your heart did a somersault in your chest. âThat would be awesome, thanks.â He followed you around to the side of the house, and you shut off the water to your flowers, then reached to unscrew the sprinkler hose. It had apparently welded itself to the spigot â you couldnât get it to budge. You bent over, struggling to force the stubborn coupling to loosen up, but it was hopeless. You turned, frustrated, and your unexpected visitorâs eyes traveled quickly back up to your face as his tongue swept over his lips. âI â uh⊠Here, let me give it a try.â
He stepped forward to deal with the stubborn fitting, and you blushed at your thoughts. Had he been staring at your ass? Speaking of⊠Your eyes were currently glued on his backside as he finally managed to unscrew the sprinkler hose. You shook your head to break the spell and rushed over to grab the regular hose from its storage on the side of the house, handing it to him without meeting his eyes. You had to calm your hormones before you made a total ass of yourself over this guy.
âI have some iced tea in the house â or would you rather have a beer?â
He straightened up after hooking up the hose, turning to grin at you and sending another flood of those pesky hormones flooding into your bloodstream. âA beer sounds great, thanks. And my nameâs Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.â
You smiled back at him as you introduced yourself, then went up the steps and into the house to fetch a couple of cold beers from your fridge. Of course, you stood with your head inside of it for a couple of minutes first, thinking about the way you could feel his eyes following you as you had walked away from him. And you had thought this stay-at-home vacation was going to be boring.
You headed back outside, and Dean walked back towards you from where he had dragged the hose over near his car. You couldnât stop staring at that bow-legged stride, the denim of his jeans hugging those strong thighs, and you dropped down to sit on the steps to mask your agitation. He plopped down beside you, gratefully taking the beer you offered. âThanks - nothing like an ice cold beer when itâs hot as hell out,â he said grinning over at you. You agreed, watching as he tipped his bottle and took a long pull. You followed suit quickly, because otherwise you were going to moan out loud at the sight of his perfect lips on the rim of the bottle, the tip of his tongue touching the opening before he drank. There were several very filthy thoughts battling for space in your head, and you could feel your pulse beating between your thighs.
âSoooo,â you started, a little too loudly, but you quickly caught yourself and adjusted your volume. âI heard you say you were almost home â where are you from?â
âMy brother and I live a couple miles south of Lebanon.â
âI guess weâre almost neighbors, then,â you said, inwardly cringing at your lack of small talk skills.
Dean gave you a crooked smile, nodding his head. âYeah, I guess we are. So if I come knocking at your door to borrow a cup of sugar, you got me covered?â
You smiled. âAny time.â
He picked at the label on his bottle, shooting a sideways glance your way with a sly quirk of his lips. âAs long as your boyfriend isnât the jealous type.â You laughed softly, and he nudged your shoulder with his. âWhat, too subtle?â
âNo boyfriend. Just an ex-husband, but thatâs old news.â You met his green-eyed gaze, which had your breath catching in your chest for a moment. âHow about you?â
âNope, completely free.â A warm smile slowly spread across his face, making your stomach do a little flip. âSo far.â He winked, so quickly that you werenât completely sure you hadnât imagined it, and then drained the rest of his beer and rose to his feet. âLetâs see if I can bring Baby back to life, huh?â
You went to the side of the house and waited for his shout, then turned on the water. You waited for him to call out again to shut it back off, then walked back around the house as he slid behind the wheel. You heard him turn the key with a âCome on, Baby!â and then a âThatâs my girl!â when the engine roared to life. You were trying to stifle your smile when he shut the engine off and climbed back out, but he just grinned back at you before turning around to put the hood down.
He headed back your way, wiping his hands on the tail of his t-shirt. âIf youâre not in a hurry, you could come inside and cool off before you head home, have another beer.â You shrugged as if it was no big deal, but you were holding your breath as you waited for his reply.
âYeah, thanks. Lead the way.â You smiled and turned to go up the steps, Dean right behind you. You both let out a relieved sigh at the cool air in the house compared to the sauna-like atmosphere outside. âDamn, does that feel good,â he said as you kicked off your flip-flops. He bent to untie his boots, but you stopped him.
âYou donât have to do that, really.â He glanced up to see that you were sincere, gave a little nod in acknowledgment, and followed you into the kitchen.
You went to the fridge, grabbed a couple more beers, and handed him one, turning to lean against the island as you opened yours. Dean settled against the counter top across from you, flipping his lid into the trash with perfect aim, then tilting his head back to take several swallows as you lost yourself in the sight.
His t-shirt was stuck to his body, his nipples showing through the damp cotton of his shirt. You stared at his throat as he drank, watching with bated breath as a bead of sweat trickled from his hairline all the way down his neck. He licked his lips as he set his bottle down beside him, his eyes moving from your parted lips to your breasts as they rose and fell with your rapidly increasing breathing. Your heart was beginning to pound, and you took your bottom lip between your teeth for a second before you spoke, your voice breathless. âSo, do you wannaâŠâ
âHell, yeah,â he growled out before you could finish, and then he was on you before you could blink. You reached back blindly, your beer thankfully settling in an upright position as he pinned you against the island and took your lips in a ravenous kiss, all tongues and teeth and hunger. He had both hands on your ass, kneading and squeezing as your fingers clawed at his back, and you could feel him rapidly growing hard as he pressed closer.
He finally broke the kiss, barely parting from you and still nibbling at your lips as he spoke. âIâve got some condoms in my bag in the trunk.â
You shook your head, kissing him again and making him moan as you sucked the tip of his tongue. âDown the hall, nightstand, top drawer,â you managed before he flashed a grin, giving your left cheek one more squeeze before he rushed away to follow your directions.
Dean was back before you finished taking a swallow of your beer. He took the bottle from your hand, turning to set it next to his on the opposite counter top. âMight need some room,â he said as he moved close again, putting his hands on your waist and boosting you up to the top of the island. He slipped his fingers up under the hem of your shirt, looking into your eyes. âCan I?â
You nodded, holding his gaze as he slowly peeled your tank top up, then over your head. He tossed it behind him without taking his eyes from your breasts. âYour turn,â you said softly, giving his shirt a tug, and he pulled it off in one quick move, then moved in close. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him snug between your thighs as you ran your fingertips over his chest, tracing the pattern of his tattoo.
He put a hand on your knee, moving it up slowly until his fingers slipped under the frayed hem of your cutoffs. âI should tell you, these Daisy Dukes have been making me crazy,â he rumbled, making you shiver as he traced a line forward and along the crease of your thigh. He leaned down to kiss you as he worked your zipper open, and you moaned into his mouth as he shoved his hand into your panties, his strong fingers gliding through your slick folds as he hummed against your lips.
âWell, I should tell you Iâve been wet for you since you first climbed out of that car,â you said, your voice raspy with arousal. His lips curved into a sexy smirk, and you leaned back on your elbows to lift up a little as he pulled your shorts and panties down, letting them fall to the floor.
He pulled you back up against his chest, kissing you again as he slipped a finger up inside you, stroking, searching until you squirmed with a little whimper. You felt him smile against your lips, and then he added another finger, rubbing firm circles over your clit with his thumb as he brushed his fingertips repeatedly over your sweet spot.
Dean rested his forehead on yours as you raised you hips to chase his thrusts. It felt amazing, but at the moment there was only one thing you wanted. You clutched desperately at the waistband of his jeans, popping the button free and jerking the zipper down. He grunted as you gave his erection a squeeze, then tugged at his jeans until he pulled his fingers from you, a low chuckle in his throat. âOkay, okay, I get it,â he managed to say as you looked up at him with a coy smile, and he shoved his pants down, your eyes widening a little at the sight of him. He rolled the condom on and moved in close again, rubbing his sheathed cock through your slick pussy.
âDeanâŠ.â you whined softly at the friction on your swollen clit, and he leaned close, whispering in your ear.
âShhhh, sweetheart, I got you.â He reached down, guiding his cock to your entrance and pushing forward as you clutched at the back of his neck. You chased his lips, kissing him desperately as he worked his way inside you with short strokes until he was buried deep, your hips rising to meet him. Every sensitive nerve inside you was singing, your body trembling at being filled to the limit.
You were panting as you pulled back from the kiss, and Dean put a hand to your face, brushing your damp hair back from your forehead, his green eyes warm as he gazed into yours. âYou doing ok?â
You leaned into his touch with a euphoric little smile, then nodded. âIâm good. Really good.â He flashed a quick grin before giving you a gentle kiss, letting his hand drift down to cup your breast. âCould be better,â you mumbled against his lips, giggling as he drew back and looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow, a sparkle in his eyes.
âOh, yeah?â
You reached down to squeeze his ass â his very firm, pert ass â and leaned up to whisper in his ear. âFuck me, Dean.â
He didnât make you wait. He braced one hand on your hip and wrapped an arm around you to hold you close as he began to rut into you, staying deep inside you at first, then pulling out farther and driving back into you faster and harder. Your thighs tightened around him, your hips bucking into his thrusts as your fingers dug into the muscle of his back, his skin slick with sweat. Moans of pleasure and grunts of effort filled the air as you began to clench and pulse around his cock, and you arched your back and cried out as you came undone.
âFuck, sweetheart,â Dean swore softly as he lost control, his cock throbbing inside you as your orgasm sent him over the edge with you. You strained against him, whimpering at the intensity of the sensations washing through you, finally slumping with your face against his chest, a shudder making you clench around his still-pulsing length. He leaned forward, slightly trembling, holding you tight with one arm as he braced a hand on the counter, his chest heaving beneath your cheek as he slowly came down from his high.
He rested his head on top of yours, his warm breath stirring your hair. âYouâre fucking incredible,â he breathed, raising back up as you moved to look up at him.
âPretty incredible yourself,â you responded with a languid smile. âI havenât felt this good in â well, ever.â His eyes searched yours as he bent close to kiss you, sending a wave of warmth through you.
âYou know, I could kiss you for hours. Possibly days.â
He laughed softly, his fingers trailing along your jaw. âWell, maybe weâll work on that. But I should probably take care ofâŠâ He glanced down pointedly at where you were still joined, and you smiled.
âOh â yeah â I guess so.â You held your breath as he pulled himself free, then put his hands on your waist and helped you down off the island. He smiled down at you, his eyes scanning over your body with a naughty smirk as he let out a soft âMmm-mmm.â
âIâll be back,â he said, hitching his pants up, and you stared as he walked away from you, heading to the bathroom. You collapsed back against the counter, blowing out a breath in aroused appreciation. You had just had sex with a complete stranger who was hot enough to fuel your fantasies for many, many years into the future â and you were pretty sure you werenât finished with him yet. In fact, you were sure of it. So you stood up straight and headed for the bathroom, in all your naked glory, with a big smile on your face.
When he opened the door, you were standing there waiting. His eyes widened a little, his smile slowly growing as you peered up at him with a flirty expression. âI need a shower. And youâre welcome to join.â You pushed your way by him, letting your breasts brush against his arm on the way by, grinning to yourself as you heard him chuckle.
You reached in and turned on the water to let it warm up, and Dean watched you with appreciation, pulling his lip between his teeth. âI â uh â have some clean clothes out in the car. Iâll be right back.â
You shot him a sidelong glance with a smile as you stepped into the shower, sliding the glass door shut behind you. He let out a low whistle before he rushed to the front door, heading for the car to get his duffle bag and pulling out his phone to call his brother. âSammy? Yeah, had a little car trouble, I wonât be home until tomorrow sometime. Nah, nothing serious. Yep, later.â
Sometime tomorrow. Next day at the latest. He smirked to himself as he closed the trunk, patting the Impalaâs roof on the way by as he headed back to the house. âI owe you, Baby.â
Three weeks later:
You sat on the porch swing, a cold beer in hand as you relaxed after a long week of work. The weather had finally cooled off, and it was pleasant on the porch, a light breeze stirring your hair. You reached for your phone as it rang, smiling as you looked at the screen. âHello,â you said, a smile in your voice.
âHey, there â itâs me, your neighbor.â
âHi, neighbor,â you laughed. âWhatâs up?â
âWell â as it turns out, Iâm completely out of sugar.â
âCompletely, huh?â
âAbsolutely. Totally out. I could really, really use some sugar right now.â His voice was already sending vibrations through you that made you want to tell him to get in the car now. âAnd you know Iâve got a sweet tooth that just wonât quit. I need sugar, sweetheart.â
You laughed as you heard Samâs voice in the background, threatening to throw up if Dean didnât stop. âWell, you know youâre always welcome to come over for sugar if you need it, Dean.â
âI knew I could count on you. Youâre the best neighbor ever. And we can fire up the grill, Iâll make my world-famous burgers, howâs that sound?â
âSounds amazing. And Iâll handle dessert.â
He growled into his phone, making you laugh again. âYeah, you will. Mmmmmm. Iâll be there in half an hour.â
You sighed happily as you hung up, swinging lazily with a smile on your face. Maybe you should put on those Daisy Dukes again.
Without panties, of course.
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Interlude Summary: After eleven years, you finally return home.
Warnings: 18+ language, canon-divergence, set after 2x05, reader x OMC, angst, friendships, family mysteries, witchcraft
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: Get your first official house tour as we go back to Sugar Hill, where it all started a long time ago. And don't worry â the Winchester boys will visit this place soon as well (and give Dean a few things to think about lol). For now, enjoy this little deep-dive! đ€
đź Chapter Title: Neighborhood #1 (Tunnels) by Arcade Fire
Youâve been driving for hours already, Salem disappearing in your rearview mirror a while ago as the country roads unwind under the tires of your Aveo, the crisp morning air drifting in through the cracked windows. Dawn has fully broken now, taking the strangeness and horror of last night with it and painting the sky in soft pinks and golds that stretch across the hills and farmland ahead.Â
The landscape swells around you as Sugar Hill draws nearer. Rolling hills are draped in clover-green, ancient woods pressing close before opening into wide, untouched meadows that glow in the morning light, wildflowers dotting the fields in splashes of rainbow colors. Even the air feels different here â purer, more alive, vibrating with the same natural power that flows through your veins. You can feel it tingling in the tips of your fingers.Â
Despite the beautiful landscape that feels almost sacred, however, the knot in your chest tightens with every familiar bend. Â
Eleven years.Â
You havenât traveled these roads since the night everything youâd known and loved smashed to smithereens. The memories of that night still haunt your soul â waking to screams downstairs, the acrid stench of sulfur, your mother and grandmotherâs voices raised in desperate spells, the roar of flames.Â
John Winchester had saved you that night. Carried you out the back and bundled you up in the backseat of the Impala while the yellow-eyed demon hunted you through the smoke. Heâd been a family friend, their ally against the demon that haunted his own family. Then heâd hidden you in Salem with Mia and told you to stay hidden and never come back.Â
You grip the steering wheel tighter. Part of you still wants to turn around and run as far away into the other direction as possible. What if the house rejects you? What if going back opens doors that should stay closed? What if youâre not strong enough for whatever waits inside?Â
Or worse, what if you are?
âYou okay?â Cameron asks from the passenger seat, his large hand resting warm and steady on your thigh, his long legs stretched as much as your tiny car allows.
âYeah, you kinda got that thousand-yard stare going on,â Paige chimes in, lounging in the backseat with her bare feet propped against the door.
âYeah, Iâm fine. Just⊠thinking,â you reply. âHavenât been back in so long, part of me keeps expecting the house to be gone â or worse, look exactly the same.â
Cameron squeezes your thigh gently. âItâs gonna be alright. Whatever weâll find, youâre not alone in this.â
But maybe you should be. You know how dangerous it is to bring both Paige and Cameron with you, considering demons are apparently hot on your trail. You feel incredibly selfish, not being strong enough to do this on your own. What if something happens to them because of you?
You canât let that happen.
Your thoughts thunder like storm clouds after eleven years of carefully built normalcy. Lab coats, glitter gel pens, nights out with Paige, and lazy Sundays with Cameron are all unraveling with every mile closer to Sugar Hill. Going back means facing the ritual and the full weight of your bloodline, and youâre honestly not sure youâre ready for any of it.
You then turn onto the dirt road that climbs the hill, overgrown grass scraping the underside of the car as your old childhood home comes into view. This entire place had always felt like another realm where witches would keep watch over hunters and innocents alike and where the veil between natural and supernatural was whisper-thin. You remember how the sunsets here felt like a sacred blessing â a dream woven from birch trees, wild grass, and centuries of protection.
This very land had been a sanctuary for generations of Berkano women, your Northern European ancestors who crossed with the first English settlers, survived the witch hunts by fleeing north, and built their hidden home on this very hill. So many mothers and daughters had lived and died here. Their graves even still lie in the small, hidden cemetery behind the pond at the edge of the property, marked only by birch trees and the family rune.
But now that same beauty feels elegiac, wilder, and sadder somehow.Â
The houseâs brightly blue siding has faded to a weary periwinkle over the years, wild grass surging tall and untamed around the foundation and vines climbing the columns, nature reclaiming what grief had abandoned. Wildflowers fight through thistles and brambles in the front yard, shattered windows reflecting the sunlight. The white wrap-around porch sags on one end while a section of the roof above the kitchen looks partially collapsed.Â
But itâs still so heartbreakingly, achingly beautiful it hurts.
Your breath catches as you slow the car to a stop, your birthmark on your collarbone tingling warmly under your skin as if the land recognizes its last daughter returning.Â
Cameronâs hand tightens on your thigh. âStay behind me when we get out. Both of you,â he says, voice reassuring. âIâll take point until we know itâs clear.â
âAlways the hero,â you murmur, affection easing your anxiety a little.Â
His Ranger instincts comfort you more than you can say. Some part of you wants to tease him for treating your family home like a potential hostile building, but another part â the part that watched a demon nearly kill Mia last night â feels nothing but grateful.
Paige leans curiously forward between the seats and stares out the windshield. âWow, this entire place looks like a painting of heaven. I mean, right now, it looks like itâs been brooding in its trauma for a decade, but I can see the appeal.â
She doesnât know how right she actually is. This place truly was heaven once.Â
You sit there a moment longer, heart hammering against your ribs before you reach for the door handle and step out. The air smells like pine resin, damp earth, wildflowers, and lasting traces of old smoke that the breeze couldnât quite carry away over the years. There are no neighbors or rooflines anywhere near, just the silence of nature enveloping you â birdsong, pattering water, and wind through the leaves.Â
Your sneakers sink into the overgrown grass before you reach the porch steps, the old wood creaking loudly under your weight. The front door gives with a push, Cameron walking in first with one hand subtly resting on the gun he insisted on bringing while Paige links her arm through yours, uncharacteristically quiet for once as you cross the threshold together.Â
As soon as you set foot inside the house, memories flood your senses like a tidal wave. Dust motes dance in the midday sunlight slanting through the broken windows, catching on thick cobwebs that decorate every corner and crevice of this place and drape from the big chandelier in the entrance like delicate lace.Â
The living room, on the other hand, still bears deep, black scars in jagged circles where the worst of the fire had raged â where your mom and grandma made their last stand. And for a heartbeat, you feel eleven years old again, frozen on top of the stairs, helpless and scared.Â
Cameron tries to flip a light switch unsuccessfully. âPower seems to be cut,â he muses and then glances at you. âIs the breaker box in the basement?â
âI think so, yeah.â
âAlright.â He nods and already turns toward the basement door. âYou guys stay here till I give the all-clear.â
Paige wraps herself tighter around your arm, resting her chin on your shoulder as you both watch Cam disappear downstairs. âHeâs kind of hot when heâs all business,â she says. âMaybe I should start dating a soldier.â
You snort and shake your head at her. âSorry to disappoint, but I think heâs the last of a dying breed.â
While Camâs gone, you drift through the ground floor, your fingers tentatively brushing the dining table with three place settings covered in a thick layer of gray. Even your momâs brittle herb bundles still hang in the kitchen where they always used to be like she never left in the first place and was coming back any second now to brew you your favorite tea.
Every creak of the floorboards and every familiar shape beneath the dust sheets twists the dagger deeper into your heart.Â
The lights then suddenly flip on with a few coughing flickers before Cameron returns a minute later, dusty but satisfied. As he trudges back up the stairs, he raises a small and worn leather booklet in his hand. The Berkano rune is embossed on the front cover.Â
âFound this next to the breaker box,â he says. âLooks like a manual for the house.â
âIt is,â you reply with a small laugh. âElsbeth was the first witch who claimed this land and built a home here. The first house was actually a lot smaller before they rebuilt it in 1886, but Elsbeth wrote down the first instructions and rules after her husband suggested selling the land at some point before the other generations kept adding to it.â
âSince this is still in your property, Iâm guessing Elsbethâs husband didnât win that fight, huh?â Paige quips.
âNope.â You smirk a little. âRumor has it, he accidentally fell off a ladder shortly after.â
Cameron cocks a brow, amused. âAccidentally?â
You grin. âYou better not disagree with me, Cooper.â
âNoted.â Cam laughs and hands you the manual.Â
Your fingers tremble a little as you take it. The leather is soft and darkened with centuries of handling, the handwriting on the first pages elegant yet unfamiliar, although both your mom and grandma had added notes in the margins over the years. But the core spells that keep this place protected and running belonged to generations long before them.
âI remember this. They always kept it handy,â you say, carefully tracing the rune on the cover before leafing through the first few pages. You then look up at them and grin. âYou guys ready for some magic to spruce up this place a little?â
Paige nods vividly with an excited smile. âIf itâs half as efficient as your cleaning spell, Iâm game. Otherwise, a spell that renews my tetanus shot would help.â
You stroll to the center of the scarred living room with a pounding heart and flip the manual open to a restoration spell. âBy blood and bone and Berkanoâs mark, awaken, renew, and heal the dark,â you speak the first lines. âFrom foundation deep to rooftop high, return this home beneath the sky.â
You can feel the magic flow through your blood like warm sunlight â golden, alive, and shimmering.Â
The dust then rises in sparkling spirals and vanishes first. Charred and broken floorboards lighten and mend right in under your feet. Shattered glass lifts from the ground in front of your eyes, knitting itself back into the window frames. Peeling paint smooths and deepens into the purest colors. The sagging porch outside straightens with a groan while vines and overgrown brush retreat from the walls and foundation as if gently ushered away by invisible hands.
Even the kitchen herbs regain their vibrant color and rich fragrance. The dining table gleams with fresh polish, the three place settings shining like theyâre waiting for a family to sit down to dinner. The sunlight outside brightens visibly, pouring through every window in rich, honeyed waves that chase away eleven years of shadow and sorrow.
When the final sparks fade, the entire Queen Anne has transformed back into its former glory, no trace of the tragedy left behind as though it never happened.
The only thing still missing is the presence of your mom and grandma. Sadly, no spell can bring them back.Â
Paige spins slowly in the now-gleaming foyer, eyes wider than the full moon. âOkay, Iâm officially speechless.â
âRare occurrence,â Cam quips with a little grin.Â
You, on the other hand, flip through the manual. âI need to renew the protection wards as well. They shield the whole property. Nothing evil should be able to cross the boundary once theyâre active.â You glance toward the staircase. âBut Iâll need a few ingredients first. If I remember correctly, my grandma kept them up in the attic.â
Cameron pulls you into his chest, pressing a kiss to your temple. âAlright, letâs get it done. Make this place a fortress again.â
You nod, drawing strength from him before leading them upstairs.
The first door on the right opens into the octagonal tower, where your childhood bedroom used to be. Itâs situated on the southeast side of the house, letting sunlight stream through the tall windows every hour of the day.Â
As you glance up at the midnight blue ceiling, you can still see the gold constellations your mother painted for you. The quilt your grandma made still lies folded at the foot of the twin bed. You remember lying here as a little girl, fingers tracing the Berkano birthmark near your collarbone while she told you stories of Eira and the natural magic that flowed through your veins like sap through ancient birch trees. You remember practicing your first spells at age seven and scribbling them into the notebook you still use to this day while your mom taught you how to make flowers bloom on the windowsill with pure delight.
You used to feel so safe here once â like the whole world outside couldnât touch you as long as you stayed here.Â
You wander farther down the hall till you land in your motherâs bedroom. Her bed is still neatly made, her herb journal resting on the nightstand beside a half-burned citrus candle. The room holds memories of late-night talks, hair braiding, and quiet lessons about your familyâs purpose â guardians to hunters, protectors of the innocent.
At the end of the hall then lies your grandmotherâs room. It carries a deeper and older weight. There are dried protective herb bundles hanging from the ceiling beams, her large oak desk cluttered with yellowed papers and ink pots. You remember sitting at her feet on the rug while she taught you how to write spells properly â how clear intention mattered more than perfect rhyme. She always smelled of old books and fresh pine.
Now, you stand in the hallway between the three rooms that once held your entire world. The restored house glows warmly around you, feeling like centuries of Berkano women are watching over their last daughter.
And for the first time in eleven years, it doesnât feel like a tomb. It feels more like this place has been waiting for you to come home and remember who you truly are.
âHey! Thereâs another staircase up here,â you suddenly hear Paigeâs voice echoing from above, bright with excitement. âCameronâs already trying the door!â
You exhale a breath youâve been holding in for too long and glance back at the bedrooms one last time before heading toward the narrow attic stairs at the end of the hall. When you reach the top, Cameron is gripping the old brass doorknob, turning it with increasing force.
âItâs stuck,â he mutters, brows furrowed. âI think it might be locked. You got a key for this somewhere, babe?â
You donât, but another memory creeps into your mind as you step closer to the door. âLet me try.â
The moment your fingertips brush the cool brass, a familiar warmth blooms beneath your skin. And then, all of a sudden, a soft little click echoes through the stairwell. The door creaks open a crack all on its own, releasing a breath of old paper, dried lavender, and centuries of quiet power.
âOkayâŠâ Paige lets out a low whistle. âThat was officially a little creepy. Is this place haunted by any chance?â
âMaybe,â you say absentmindedly, already stepping carefully inside.Â
âIâm sorry⊠did you just say maybe?â Paige checks behind you, but you donât answer her anymore, your focus taken fully by what waits for you inside.Â
God, the attic looks like a living museum of your bloodline.Â
The sunlight filters through the large stained-glass window at the far end â a magnificent birch tree with hazel bark and leaves in every shade of green. The colored light spills across the old oak floorboards in changing patterns of emerald, amber, and soft rose. Exposed wooden beams arch overhead, strung with bundles of dried herbs, copper charms, and strings of tiny crystals that chime as you pass.
Shelves line every single wall in the room, packed with curiosities: rows of glass jars containing shimmering powders, dried flowers, colorful liquids, and gemstones. Ancient maps of ley lines and demon hotspots are pinned beside yellowed sketches of creatures you donât yet have names for.Â
Other witchy trinkets fill every surface available as well â silver rune pendants, carved wooden wands, a small collection of ornate daggers, a cracked hand mirror you remember being able to reflect auras, and stacks of leather journals filled with handwritten lore. And then, in the center of the room, stands a heavily carved pedestal holding the ancient Berkano spellbook, its cover moulded with the same rune you bear on your skin.
Paige already curiously drifts toward the spellbook. The second her fingers graze the cover, however, an electric little zap cracks through the air. She yelps and yanks her hand back.
âOw! What theââ
You canât help drawing a small, amused smile. âOnly bloodline can touch it,â you explain. âThe book protects itself. Grams always said it would never let itself fall into the wrong hands.â
âRude.â Paige shakes her hand dramatically, clearly still feeling the sting. Youâre pretty sure if she were a demon, she wouldâve gone up in flames, though. âBut also admittedly kind of badass.â
You nod in agreement before moving to the shelves, your eyes scanning the labels written in your grandmotherâs hand. For the ward renewal you need a very precise mix: coarse sea salt blessed under a full moon, fresh rosemary, strips of birch bark from the oldest tree on the property, a small moonstone, scraps of rowan wood, dried elder flowers, powdered shavings of stag antlers, and a vial of quartz dust gathered from the hill itself. Usually, all these things wouldnât be easy to find, but your grandmother always liked to be prepared.Â
You gather everything into a small cast-iron bowl and mix it together under the glowing stained-glass birch before you cast the protection spell, your voice as clear and strong as possible.
âBy blood and bone and Berkanoâs light, by earth and sky and ancient right, we call upon the natural vein to guard this home from every bane. No demon, spirit, dark, or fell may cross this threshold, break this spell. From hill to pond, from tree to stone, this sanctuary stands alone.â
The ingredients in the bowl flare brightly in green and gold before dissolving into shimmering dust that rises and shoots through the walls, floor, and ceiling, the entire property inhaling its protective magic.Â
Cameron, standing by the stained-glass window, suddenly straightens. âLook, the fence.â
You join him and take a peek out the window. Down the slope, the old birch fence marking the property boundary glows with a soft, pulsing light before fading back to normal wood. The wards are active once more.
âIt worked,â you breathe with a relieved smile.
Cameron studies the land stretching out below â the wild fields, the pond reflecting the sunlight, the distant tree line. âItâs beautiful here,â he says quietly. âFeels⊠different already. Safer.â
You stare at the boundary for a moment longer, a quiet question lingering. âI still donât understand how they broke through last time. The wards should have held. They always held beforeâŠâ
Strong arms then slide around your waist from behind. Cameron pulls you back against his chest, chin resting on your shoulder as you both look out over the newly protected land. His warmth chases away the last chill of uncertainty.
âYouâre home,â he says against your hair. âReally home. And whatever comes next, we face it from here. Together. On your terms.â
You lean into him, letting the atticâs peaceful magic ground you. The ancient spellbook, the curiosities of generations, the light dancing through the birch tree window⊠it all feels like itâs been waiting.
For the first time in eleven years, the weight on your shoulders doesnât feel like devastating grief anymore. It feels like purpose. Something new, something powerful, is only just beginning.
And you? Youâre finally back home â back where you've always belonged. You can feel it in your heart.
â¶ïž Interlude II : Call Me, Beep Me â July 31
How did you like this first interlude? These are honestly just scenes that I could never quite fit into chapters theme-wise and were too short to stand as their own chapters, so I figured this was a good solution. If you ever have ideas for an interlude or something you want to see, let me know! đ€
We have two smutty one-shots posting the next Fridays before we'll return to this series. Stay tuned, friends! đ
Series Masterlist
Coming Up || Posting Schedule:
đŠ Aquamarine (Part 3 of the Florida!!! series) â July 17
Ohhh, I loved this! Her family history and legacy, your beautiful, descriptive writing made it possible to picture everything perfectly. It had a very Charmed- type vibe, which I adore! (Maybe the Berkano witches protect the east coast and the Halliwell witches take care of the west? đ With a huge gathering once a year to share spells and stories!) Made me very happy that she could restore everything, but it is curious that demons were able to invade - maybe she'll discover how?
Thank you once again for sharing your amazing writing!
i saw the requests post and couldn't miss it đ€ how about charlie pairing up her very single friend with a very emotionally constipated hunter? just dean flirting shamelessly because reader is a cutie and he has the full green light from charlie to lay it on thick âđ»đââïž
Summary: When your friend Charlie pulls you into the orbit of Dean Winchester, you have a choice to make: fall for his charm, or give him a run for his money.
Contents: Dean + Reader, strangers to friends, Charlie is an innocent wing woman just trying to help her friends out, teasing, flirting, drinking, awkward silences, and plotting revenge.
Note: This was written completely with you in mind, Liv. I hope you find all my little nuggets. It's funny to me that I had the first part written in about an hour, and then struggled for three days before a good idea came to me. But it is fun and cute and I hope you like it!
The first time you heard the name Dean Winchester, you werenât quite sure what to think.
You didnât know why Charlie brought him up in the first place. Both of you had been hanging out by the coffee pot, not willing to leave and risk losing claim to the first fresh cup that was currently brewing. Charlie asked about your weekend, which was completely uneventful, and when you inquired back, she got this weird look on her face and said it was interesting.
âOk, but you canât just say that and not give me details.â You demanded, trying to figure out why she looked both pleased and scared at the same time.
âI-I-âŠwell, I, uh, kinda got roped into a side gig and helped possibly save some lives?â Charlie replied impishly, a smile spreading across her face.
You stared at her dumbfounded. The percolator hissed next to you, the red light dimming to indicate it was done. Neither of you moved.
âWhat are you talking about?â You hissed, eyeing the door to the break room to make sure no one was nearby.
âWell, you know that I had my Larping event this weekend, right?â Charlie waited for you to nod. âIt kinda turned dark, and a couple people died, but then I freed a fairy from a curse, andâŠâ
âCharlie,â you cut in, your eyes growing wider by the second, âpeople died? You sound insane, you know that?â You watched her ponder that while looking a bit embarrassed. âAnd a fairy! You mean someone larping as a fairy, right?â
âNoâŠâ Her voice squeaked a little as she trailed off.
âBut thereâs no such thing as fairies!â
âWell, thatâs not true, youâve just never seen one. Dean told me this fairy was totally different from the last one he fought off.â
âWho is Dean?â You racked your brain, but that definitely wasnât someone she had mentioned before.
âOh, Dean? Well, him and his brother, Sam, they, wellâŠâ Charlie twisted a strand of her hair around her finger. âThey, uh, save people from bad things.â
âLike fairies?â You asked incredulously.
âNo, fairies are good! This one was just bound by a spell to hurt others.â
Your brain was about to explode. Charlie was smiling at you like she had taken a hit of acid, and you were about to ask her if that was actually the case, when your manager walked in and asked if the coffee was done. Figuring that it wasnât smart to talk nonsense in front of others, you poured yourself a cup while Charlie chatted with the manager about the meeting later that afternoon. Â
Even though you were kitty corner from Charlie, you both got pulled into different projects and didnât talk for the rest of the day. On your lunch break, you did a search for fairies that led you down a rabbit hole of conspiracy theories and people who had seen spirits in their basements. Half of it sounded batshit crazy. But you had known Charlie for almost 6 months now, and she wasnât one to overexaggerate things. At least, you didnât think so.
Waiting by the elevators for Charlie to finish her work and walk down with you, you debated whether to bring this all up again. It was too early in the friendship for you to consider calling a professional for a psych exam, but at the same time, you were concerned that something was really wrong.
Before you could decide what you wanted to do, Charlie snuck up next to you, bumped your hip, and grinned.
âI did something.â She teased. There was a glint in her eye that you had only seen once before. And that night had ended very badly.
âWhat?â You groaned, pressing the âdownâ button to call the elevator.
âI sorta asked Sam and Dean if they could let me know the next time they were nearby. And then we can all get drinks.â
âYou want me to get drinks with the people you claim hunt evil?â You leveled her with a look you usually gave your dog when he was getting into something he wasnât supposed to.
âWell, it occurred to me at lunch, that you have been struggling to find someone, and Dean is very cute and very singleâŠâ
âCharlie!â You shrieked. Thankfully, you were alone in the elevator, so no one was going to come running at the sound of your panic. âYou just said ânext time he is in townâ. Which means he doesnât live here. Why would I want to go on a date with someone I canât see regularly?â
âTrust me,â Charlie continued, like there was no room for argument. âYouâre gonna love him.â
Begrudgingly, you had to admit that Charlie had been right.
Dean Winchester was, in fact, a lot more than just cute. Â
You were sitting down in a booth when the Winchesters arrived, which only emphasized their height. For a second, you thought they were strangers that had come to tell you they had just backed into your car. But when Charlie saw them, she squealed and jumped out of the booth. The taller one was smiling, his hair falling into his eyes as he leaned over to embrace her. When Charlie moved to hug the other one, you noticed he was a little stiffer, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He also whispered something into her ear. Charlie beamed and nodded.
Charlie introduced you, then grabbed Samâs arm and pulled him to the bar. Before you could call after her, Dean slid across from you and crossed his arms over the table.
âHey.â This smile was different than the one he had given Charlie. You also didnât miss his eyes grazing over your body. Â
âHi.â You picked up your drink and tried not to shudder. Even though he was incredibly good looking, he was coming on way too strong. Â Â
âIâve heard a lot about you from Charlie.â Deanâs tongue flicked over his lips like he wasnât even aware he was doing it.
âLike what?â You asked, trying to keep the smile off your face.
âUh, well, she said that you guys worked together. So, you must be good with computers.â
âWell, it is a software company. I would hope that they hired competent staff.â You delivered sarcastically.
Dean blinked quickly, and then looked over at the bar and shifted in his seat. He glanced at you again.
âHow long you guys known each other?â
âSince she started.â
With a sigh, Dean started drumming his fingers on the table. It was obvious that he didnât usually get this much resistance and was mentally trying to figure out what to do next.
âYou, uh, need a refill?â Dean offered, pointing at your glass.
âNah, Iâm good.â You sipped at your drink as Dean slid off the bench and made his way to the bar. He made a direct beeline for Charlie and Sam, and a smile tugged at your face. He might be cocky, but he folded like a cheap suit when he was challenged. And that was highly entertaining.
You pretended not to watch Dean converse with Charlie. He seemed a little irritated, especially when Charlie shook her head and crossed her arms over her chest. They exchanged some more words while Sam sat between them looking miserable. Suddenly, all three of them glanced at you. Before you could choose whether to ignore them or stare back, Dean was crossing the room with a beer bottle in his hand.
âEverything alright?â You questioned sweetly.
âOh, yeah.â Dean waved his hand and scoffed. âJust a little friendly teasing.â
âAh, okay.â
Dean had apparently decided to take a different approach and seemed to be quietly waiting for you to show interest. You werenât about to give him the satisfaction of striking up a conversation, so you let your eyes graze over the bar. Still, you could feel his blood pressure rising as the silence stretched on.
âYou, uh, know how to play pool?â
âNope.â You replied simply.
âI could teach you if youâŠâ
âNah,â you interjected. âNot interested.â
With tight knuckles, Dean brought his beer to his lips. He didnât even try to be subtle about the glare he shot in Charlieâs direction. Pressure was building in the back of your throat and chest from holding down your laughter. You werenât sure if you could keep it reined in much longer. From inside your purse, your phone trilled with a notification.
âSorry.â You grabbed your phone and woke up the screen. It was from Charlie.
Stop toying with him! Youâre being mean.
âWait.â Dean said slowly as you tried to rearrange your face to hide the giggle that was bubbling. âI know that tune.â
Now it was your turn to look a little stunned.
âI doubt it.â You told him as your pulse began to quicken.
âNo, no, itâsâŠitâs right there.â Dean furrowed his eyebrows. Your phone was long forgotten in your hand as you watched him think.
With a snap of his fingers, his eyes lit up, and he said the name of your favorite anime. One that you had been convinced was obscure enough that no one would ever link you to it. Your jaw went slack.
âYou know about that show?â You blurted out.
âKnow it? I was just watching it last night!â
Both of you stared at each other in awe. Now you felt a little bad about messing around with him. Maybe he wasnât just the charming bad boy that you had painted him as.
âHave you seen the whole thing?â You wondered hesitantly.
âIâm close, got a few more episodes before I finish it.â Deanâs eyes sparkled with excitement, and your stomach twisted in delight.
Abandoning your teasing, you and Dean talked for almost two hours. You had forgotten what it was like to discuss something you enjoyed and not try to hide your inner geek. Even after the conversation shifted away from the show, you could feel the connection between you strengthening. It almost felt like time stilled around you. When Charlie walked over and asked if you were ready to go, you stared at her because you had genuinely forgotten she was there.
Dean was quick to ask if you wanted to exchange numbers. There was no hesitation in grabbing his phone and typing in your info. Charlie stood over the table grinning. Part of you wanted to give her crap for whatever she had told Dean this was. The other part was hoping that one day youâd be thankful she introduced the two of you.
Both of you stood and Dean leaned in first to give you a hug. Cedarwood and leather filled your nose, making you want to pull him even closer so the smell would linger. Just as you were starting to pull away, Dean tightened his grip and put his cheek up against your ear.
âNext time I see you,â he whispered, âIâm getting back at you for tormenting me.â
Your stomach dropped out from under you. It took your limbs a little longer to return to your side once Dean had shifted to hug Charlie goodbye. Sam gave you a quizzical look before waving goodbye and heading towards the door with his brother.
âSo, it went well?â Charlie asked excitedly. You were watching the boys leave, and Dean turned and threw a wink over his shoulder before the door closed.
Face flushed, you looked over at your friend. âI am in serious trouble.â
Please like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoy! Thank you for reading!
Written for @storytellers-contest-tjac . Beta-read by @zepskies - thank you so much, Alex! And thank you to my bestie, @jensensgotyoudean - for your advice and ever-present support! Love you, mah Liz! đ Quotes on the header and at the end of the fic are lyrics from Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac. Dividers by @firefly-graphics.
Reenie Green is a close friend, and when you end up in a dangerous situation through no fault of your own, she calls the Shaw brothers, Colter and Russell, for help. Russell has always worked under the self-imposed rule that you do the job, then walk away. But since he met you, he's having a hard time letting this one go.
Russell helped himself to another beer, plopping down next to the small table in Colterâs trailer. He leaned back against the wall, stretching his long legs out on the bench seat with a sigh. Personally, he didnât know how his brother spent so much time in this tin can, but to each his own.
Colterâs phone began to ring, and Russell craned his neck to peer over at the screen. Reenie. He grinned to himself and grabbed the phone, swiping to put her on speaker. âReenie! Howâs it going?â
âRussell? Why are you answering Colterâs phone?â
âWell, he happens to be in the shower at the moment, and I saw it was you, so â figured youâd want to say hi, anyway, right?â
Reenie could picture the cocky smirk on his face clearly, but she didnât have time for their usual back and forth. âThis is serious, Russell.â
He sat up straight, his demeanor immediately shifting. âOkay, got it. What do you need?â
âMy client is in big trouble. Well, my friend â havenât convinced her yet to be my client. Not the point.â She took a deep breath to calm herself before she went on. âThe point is, sheâs been kidnapped. Her brother called me a few minutes ago. Heâs a computer whiz â a former hacker, actually â and some very bad people have been trying to recruit him. Heâs been staying clear of them, but last night they took his sister, and theyâre threatening to hurt her or kill her if he doesnât do what they want him to do.â
âDoes he know where theyâre keeping her?â
âTheyâre holding her at his house. Heâs afraid if he shows up there, theyâll force him into doing what they want and kill them both.â
Russell nodded, teeth worrying at his lower lip. âHeâs probably not wrong. Can you send us the address?â Colter was out of the shower now, listening with a concerned frown as he stood there, towel around his waist.
âI will. Can you help?â
Colter looked at his brother, then nodded. âYeah. Send us whatever info youâve got. Weâre on our way.â
Your eyes opened reluctantly, drifting closed again a few times before you managed to keep them open. Your head was pounding, your body ached, and â you were cold. Awareness slowly seeped in, and you managed to hold your head up, taking in your surroundings. Your pulse began to race as you realized you had no idea where you were.
You tried to move, but your arms were bound behind you, around the pole that you were propped against. It felt like a zip tie, and it dug painfully into your wrists as you tested it. The light was dim, but you could see that you were in a large, mostly empty room with a concrete floor. It was chilly against your legs, and you realized you were wearing the camisole and shorts that you had gone to bed in. No wonder you were cold.
The thought of shouting for help crossed your mind, but you quickly discarded it. The foggy memory of rough hands dragging you from your bed and covering your face with a rag told you the response wouldnât be a friendly one. You could faintly hear male voices upstairs, and the sound of a TV. You bit your lips together, fighting panic and the tears that threatened. You needed to try to stay calm, be observant, and do what you had to do to make it through whatever was happening.
As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you made out the shape of a bike against the far wall. Back in the corner was an old foosball table, a baseball bat leaning against it. It seemed familiar â and your eyes widened as you realized where you were â in your brotherâs basement. You rested your head back against the pole and closed your eyes, a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. So Grant was in trouble, and you were obviously bait â or leverage.
You sat there for what seemed like forever, no indication of the hour, no windows to give a hint of what time of day it was. You had tried to work your hands free, but your wrists were rubbed raw and you had finally given up. No one had even bothered to come down and offer you water, or to take you to the bathroom. You had an awful feeling that they werenât planning on keeping you alive.
A loud knock from the floor above startled you from the doze you had slipped into, and a loud, cheerful voice joined the other male voices you had heard previously. âHey, is Grant around? Thought he might wanna join me and my brother to watch the game and have a few beers. Hi, Iâm Russell, I was Grantâs roomie in college. I could tell you some stories.â
Your head hit the pole behind you with a dull thud, disappointment sinking the hope that it had been a rescuer knocking at the front door. A tear slipped down your cheek as you closed your eyes. Maybe Grant was already hurt, or dead. MaybeâŠ
Your eyes flew open wide with panic as a large hand covered your mouth, and you began to struggle, terrified. âShhhhh!â A whisper next to your ear made you freeze, your body trembling with fear. âIâm not gonna hurt you, okay? My nameâs Colter. Iâm here to help you. But you have to stay quiet. If they hear usâŠâ You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as his hand moved slowly away. âIâm gonna cut you loose.â
You felt the tension loosen on the zip tie around your wrists, and Colter moved around in front of you. âDo you think you can walk?â You nodded again, reaching for his hand as he pulled you to your feet, letting you stand for a moment to get your bearings. âWeâre going up the back stairs and out the door. You get in the back seat of the pickup and lie down so no one can see you.â He gave your hand a squeeze. âJesus, youâre freezing.â He stopped, taking off his jacket and helping you slip your arms into the sleeves. It was huge on you, but the warmth felt like heaven.
âThank you,â you whispered hoarsely.
âOkay, here we go. Whatever happens, you go straight to that truck and get inside, right?â You nodded in reply, and he took hold of your hand again, leading you through the room with the help of a tiny flashlight. You recognized the short flight of steps up to the back door, and you followed him out, the grass cool on your bare feet as the two of you made your way to a large black truck. He opened the back door and helped you inside, and you laid down on the seat as he had directed, nervously waiting for what would come next. After all, as much as you appreciated the rescue, you didnât know this man any better than the ones who had abducted you in the first place.
He climbed into the driverâs seat, sending a couple blasts of the horn into the otherwise still night, making you jump. âRussell, come on â weâre gonna miss kickoff!â he shouted out his window, then lowered his voice to speak to you again. âMy brother is inside, he was our distraction. Weâre friends of Reenieâs, she sent us to help you.â The mention of Reenieâs name sent a wave of relief through you, and you began to breathe a little easier.
A couple of minutes later, another man climbed into the pickup, turning his head to glance into the back seat as he closed his door. Colter spoke your name quietly. âThis is my brother, Russell. Weâre gonna take you to the motel, your brotherâs there waiting for us.â
âYes â okay â thank you,â you managed to say as the truck started up, and you headed down the road.
After a few minutes, Russell turned around to peer into the back seat. âYou can sit up now if you want. Weâre clear.â You raised yourself up slowly, wrapping the borrowed jacket tighter around you with a shiver. Russell looked at his brother, his voice a little impatient. âTurn up the heat, man â sheâs freezing back there.â Then he turned his attention your way again, reaching across the back of his seat to hand you a bottle of water. âHere.â He flashed you a quick smile when you thanked him, and he watched as you drank, your eyes closing in relief as the cool liquid soothed your parched throat. âBetter?â
You nodded, putting the lid back on the bottle. âThank you. Thank you both.â
âAre you injured? Did they hurt you?â He asked softly, and you shook your head. His eyes never left you as he spoke, and you couldnât help but notice how attractive he was, even in the dim light â dark hair, a neatly trimmed beard, beautiful eyes. âI know youâre scared, but I promise youâre gonna be okay. The police will meet us at the motel, and they said theyâd contact your husband, let him know where youâll be.â
His brows drew together at the expression on your face, the expression you were too tired and traumatized to disguise. âEverything okay?â
You took a shaky breath. âYeah. Yes, Iâm fine. Itâs just â heâs going to be so angry.â
Russell studied your expression, taking a beat before he responded. âIâm sure he is, but youâre safe and Iâm sure thatâs the most important thing to him, right?â
You let your gaze slide away from his, staring out the window as you gave a vague nod in answer. Russell shot a perceptive glance over to his brother, silent communication between the two of them.
You had just dozed off in the back seat of the pickup when it pulled up in front of the motel. You yawned, letting Russell help you out of the truck. âWhere are we?â you asked, still disoriented as he escorted you to the door with a gentle hand on your back, pulling keys from his pocket.
âMy motel room. Your brother is inside.â He let you into the room, fairly large with a worn hide-a-bed couch on one wall, a king-size bed and the usual tiny table with two chairs next to a counter with a coffee maker and mini fridge.
As soon as you stepped inside, Grant jumped up from the couch and grabbed you in a hug. âAre you okay?â Grant was shaking as he held you, his voice breaking as he spoke. âThis was because of me, Iâm so sorry. They were trying to force me to hack into some companyâs financials, I⊠I never thought theyâd involve you. Iâm so...â Russell draped a blanket around your shoulders as you moved back from your brotherâs embrace, wiping tears from your cheeks as you interrupted.
âNot your fault, Grant.â You sat down next to your brother, pulling your legs up underneath you and pulling the blanket tighter around you as he put an arm around your shoulders. Russell left the two of you to talk quietly, heading over to make a pot of coffee.
A couple of hours later, you headed back to the couch after being questioned by the local police. You let your head drop back, your eyes squeezed shut as you wished for the ordeal to be over. Reliving everything for the police was bad enough, and Vince, your husband, hadnât even gotten there yet. You were dreading that, already knowing what his mood would be when he arrived.
âYou doing okay?â Russellâs voice made you open your eyes and sit up straight, inhaling and expelling a deep breath. He was hunkered down in front of you, his eyes watching you closely.
âHanging in there. Just wish this was all over.â
He gave you a kind smile. âYeah, I get that, youâve had a rough day. Your husband should be here shortly, and once the cops talk to him, he can take you home.â Russell watched as you tried to control your expression. âListen â none of my business, but I noticed you havenât been too excited at the thought of your husband showing up. If you need help â just say the word. We can get you somewhere safe.â
You looked into his eyes, yours welling with tears that you managed to keep from spilling over. âThank you, but Iâm fine. Just really tired, and not looking forward to his temper when he hears about all this. I didnât mean to make you thinkâŠâ
Russell shook his head. âNo problem, I get it. But if you ever do need help â call Reenie and let her know. She knows how to find me.â He put a warm hand over yours in your lap and gave it a squeeze, then rose to his feet and walked away. And the next moment, the hurricane that was your husband blew through the door.
âYou!â Vince pointed an accusing finger at Grant, who was sitting at the table with an officer. âThis is all your fault!â He stormed directly over towards his brother-in-law, who rose to his feet.
The police officer stood up as well, stepping forward with a hand out. âSir! Iâm gonna have to ask you to calm down and stop where you are.â
Vince glared at him defiantly. âThis piece of shit got himself in a bind, and got my wife kidnapped. Lucky she wasnât injured! Or killed! You stay the hell away from us from now on. Stay away from her, you understand me?â He turned on his heel and came towards where you now stood near the sofa, shoving a bag at you. âHere, get some clothes on. Iâm taking you home.â
You took the bag and headed into the bathroom to change, your gaze never leaving the floor. Russell took a couple of long strides forward, his eyes narrowed in anger. âHey â Vince, is it? You might want to take it easy on her. Sheâs been through hell in the last 24 hours.â
Vince turned to look at him, his jaw raised as he stared back at Russell with contempt. âAnd just who the fuck are you?â
âMy brother and I are the ones who found her and got her away from her kidnappers,â Russell said quietly, crossing his arms across his chest.
Vince sighed. âOh. I see. So how much?â
âHow much? We werenât working for you. Grant hired us to find his sister.â
Vince let out a derisive snort. âYeah, like he has any money. Whatâs the bill, Iâll pay it.â
Russell sighed. âNo thanks â weâre good.â
Your husband took a step closer, an insolent expression on his face. âWell, then, Mr. Weekend Merc, maybe you shouldnât try to tell me how to take care of my wife.â
Russellâs eyes went cold, a humorless smirk curving his lips that would have sent a chill up the spine of any man with half a brain. Colter moved forward, putting a hand on his brotherâs shoulder. After a second, Russell gave a barely perceptible nod, sucking his teeth as he turned and walked back towards the coffee pot. Colter looked impassively at Vince, then turned away and joined Russell.
A moment later, you walked back into the room, dressed and with Colterâs jacket folded over your arm. Vince grabbed your arm, growling, âCome on, letâs get the hell out of here.â
âJust a minute,â you said softly, pulling away.
âTime to go home,â he argued, and you looked at him, snapping a reply.
âGive me one minute!â He glared after you as you walked towards the Shaws, handing Colter his jacket. âThank you.â Colter nodded with a smile, and you turned your attention to Russell. His expression softened as he looked back at you. âThank you both.â
Russell looked steadily into your eyes. âRemember what I told you.â You bit at your lip with a nod, finally pulling your gaze from his as you turned to join your fuming husband at the door. He practically shoved you out, the door closing hard behind you.
Russell turned to look at Colter, his jaw working. âThat guy is twelve kinds of wrong.â
Colter nodded. âYeah, youâre right. But thereâs nothing we can do unless she wants help, Russell. And you always tell me, when the jobâs done, walk away.â
âYeah. I know.â Russell grabbed the coffee and filled his cup. He could still see the look in her eyes â the attempt at courage failing to completely mask her apprehension. She was afraid, trying to pretend that everything was fine. And in spite of his usual self-imposed rules, he was going to have a hard time walking away from this one.
Russell sat next to his campfire, enjoying the warmth of the sun, a bottle of his home-brew in his hand. He stared into the fire, his inner voice reading him the riot act for still sticking around. It had been three weeks, and you hadnât reached out to Reenie for help. Colter had given him a hard time as well, and he knew he had it coming, but he couldnât seem to get you out of his mind. There was still the nagging feeling in his gut that you were in trouble, and that his particular set of skills might come in handy.
And then there were the dreams. The first time, he dreamed he was back in the motel room the night theyâd rescued you. Only this time he was comforting you, sitting with his arms around you, and you were crying softly on his shoulder. After that, there had been another, starting the same way. Only this time it changed â his lips on yours, his hands roaming, your skin soft and warm under his touch. He woke up breathing hard, his heart pounding, his cock hard and throbbing, and he had jacked off imagining sinking deep inside you and making you come, hearing you cry out his name.
His phone rang, Reenieâs name flashing across the screen, and he shook his head to clear it before answering. She barely gave him time to say hello before she blurted out, âRussell â she just called. She overheard â never mind. She ran, sheâs in trouble, you need to pick her up. South of you, mile marker 132 on Highway 39, sheâs hiding in the trees. Go pick her up, Iâll meet you back at your campsite with some clothes and things.â
âOn my way,â he responded, ending the call and stuffing the phone into his pocket. He tossed water over the fire, ditching his beer in the trash can on the way to the car, sending gravel spitting from the tires as he took off.
There had been nothing but trees for a couple of miles when he reached the spot Reenie had indicated, and he pulled over, stepping out of the car, eyes scanning the area. He called your name softly, watching. âItâs Russell Shaw. Reenie sent me.â
You peered carefully from behind a tree, then ran towards the car, looking over your shoulder as you reached it. âGet in,â Russell said, âweâll talk later.â You nodded, climbing inside, and he looked around carefully for signs that youâd been followed before getting behind the wheel. He looked over at you, his brows drawn together in concern. âYou okay? Youâre not hurt?â
You glanced his way, clasping your hands nervously in your lap. âIâm okay.â He nodded, turning to make sure the way was clear and making a wide turn to head back to his campsite.
Russell pulled to a stop and got out of the car without a word, heading straight to his tent to break it down and pack up his belongings. By the time Reenie pulled in, he was loading everything into his trunk, still without saying a word, and you were wondering if youâd done the right thing calling for his help.
Reenie pulled a large suitcase out of the back seat of her BMW, pulling it behind her to Russellâs car. âBrought you some clothes and essentials to get you by. Russell, you keep her safe.â
Russell closed his trunk, coming around to take the suitcase and shove it into his back seat. âYou know I will.â He climbed back behind the wheel and gave Reenie a nod. âIâll be in touch.â You hugged her, whispering your thanks, and got in the passenger side, trying to stay calm in spite of not knowing what was coming next. Russell waited for Reenie to head down the drive, then followed behind, turning in the opposite direction on the highway. âOkay,â he said, glancing over your direction, âtell me what happened.â
Several miles and two small towns later, Russell reached for a remote and pulled into a small garage attached to a modest-looking ranch-style house, the door smoothly lowering behind you to hide you from the world.
You had told him about the phone call you had overheard, Vince on the phone with someone, you didnât know who. âYeah, the kidnapping should have worked, but I guess Grantâs more stubborn than I gave him credit for. Stop worrying, I found somebody else. Weâll have that money by the end of next week. No, she has no idea I was behind it, donât worry about her. She believes what I tell her, and she does what sheâs told. I already took care of those two fuck-ups, they wonât be talking to anybody.â
Russell had listened intently to everything you said, nodding quietly once in a while as you told your story. You had overheard that conversation and you knew you had to get away. You had sneaked back upstairs, put on your shoes and a jacket, grabbed the burner phone Reenie had given you for emergencies, and gone down the back staircase and out the back door. It was a couple of miles through the woods to get to the highway, and you ran until you were out of breath, then slowed to a hurried walk, determined to escape the man you thought you knew.
âHeâs not the man I married, I know that. But I never thought he wasâŠâ
âAn abusive murdering asshole?â You had shot Russell a sideways glance, and he had cleared his throat uncomfortably. âSorry.â
âDonât be. Itâs true.â Tears stung your eyes as you looked down at your hands. âI feel like such an idiot. Reenie has been trying to convince me for months that I needed to leave him, but I just...â
âNone of this is your fault. You know that, right?â
You hadnât answered him, just stared out the window for the rest of the ride. Russell was quiet after that, his focus on the job ahead. And this was a job, he reminded himself â he needed to keep his head on straight. The last thing she needed right now was to get involved with someone like him, so whatever feelings were invading his subconscious, he needed to ignore them.
Russell led the way into the house, dropping your borrowed suitcase near the couch and doing a quick walk-through before coming back to the room. You looked at him, confused, and he let out a rather sheepish little chuckle. âSorry, itâs a habit to make sure the house is clear. Which it is. So, get settled in â Iâm heading out to get some supplies, but Iâll be right back.â
You nodded, and he headed back to the garage. You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Your whole life had been turned upside down in the space of a few hours, and you had no idea what was coming next.
You finally took a deep breath and ventured into the next room. You explored the small house â a bedroom, bathroom, cute little kitchen with a breakfast nook, living room with a huge sofa, recliner on one end and chaise lounge on the other. There was a medium-sized flat-screen TV, a few DVDs on a shelf below.
You took the suitcase Reenie had brought into the bedroom and opened it â she had been very generous. It was bulging with clothes and lingerie, along with some toiletries, a few mystery/thriller novels, a deck of cards â everything you would need to get you by until you could get your own things. Whenever that would be. You felt a clutch of panic at the thought of your unknown future, closing your eyes to fight it back. You were safe for the moment, thatâs all that mattered.
A little later, your phone pinged with a message from Russell that he was back with the groceries. You met him at the kitchen door, relieving him of one of the bags in his arms. He thanked you with a smile, and the two of you unpacked and put away the food he had purchased. âThis is â a lot. I mean, how long do you think weâll be here?â
He glanced your way, then went back to putting milk and eggs in the fridge. âHard to say for sure. It depends on how long it takes the cops to finish getting the evidence they need to put Vince away.â
You stopped what you were doing and braced your hands on the counter, your eyes filling with tears as the weight of everything that was happening suddenly hit you like a blow to the chest. Russell closed the fridge and put a hand on your shoulder, speaking softly. âHey.â
You looked up into his eyes, a tear overflowing and trailing down your cheek. âI canât pay you. I â I donât have anything. Everything belongs to him. I donât know how Iâll pay for you for all of this,â you said, sweeping your hand, thinking of the house, the groceries, Russellâs time.
He gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze. âDidnât ask to be paid. I told you if you needed help to call. Iâm just here to help.â He was really looking at you now, not the barely glancing, distant contact youâd had with him since he picked you up. The kind look in his eyes made you suddenly feel not so alone. âSo are we good?â
You took a breath and blew it out slowly, finally nodding. âYeah. Weâre good. Thank you, Russell.â
His lips curved in a soft smile. âGood. So, Iâm starved, and I got us one of those giant frozen pizzas with cheese in the crust â sound okay?â You nodded with a slightly watery smile and went back to unpacking the groceries as he turned on the oven.
You spent the rest of the evening mostly in companionable silence, eating pizza in front of the TV with a How I Met Your Mother marathon serving as background noise. Russell thumbed through the old magazines you had found in a drawer of the TV stand, and you started in on one of the books Reenie had included in the collection of treasures she had sent.
When you were yawning and reading the same paragraph over and over again, you finally gave in and headed for bed. You said a quiet goodnight and walked to the bedroom, closing the door behind you. You didnât think youâd be able to sleep, but you dozed off almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.
You woke suddenly, a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach. The room was pitch black, so you grabbed your phone, the screen lighting up the space, your heart lurching in your chest as you spotted a figure standing near the foot of the bed. You lit the flashlight on your phone and aimed it that direction, then screamed in terror. Vince was standing there, a sneer on his face, a gun in his hand.
âHey, hey!!â The light went on and a hand grabbed your shoulder, shaking you. Russellâs voice was calling your name as you scooted yourself up as close to the headboard as you could, your feet scrambling to try and push you farther, your eyes wide with fear. âYouâre okay, it was a nightmare.â You stared at him, shaking, whimpering and pointing.
âHe was right there! He was going to kill me!â
âI promise you, thereâs nobody here but you and me. You were having a nightmare. Youâre safe, I promise you.â He reached out take hold of your hand. âThereâs no way in hell he will ever get close to you. I wonât let him, trust me. You trust me, right?â
You nodded, trying to calm yourself, still trembling and your heart still trying to escape your chest. Russell sat there with you until your quaking subsided, and you looked up at him as he ducked his head to peer into your eyes. âYou okay?â
You nodded again with a sigh of exhausted relief. âIâm sorry. It was so real.â
âNothing to be sorry for.â
You looked at him again, feeling embarrassed as you spoke again. âI feel like a child, but I donât think I can sleep in here. I donât want to be alone.â
Russell smiled as he looked down at you. âI get it. Why donât we grab your pillow and you can sleep on the sofa. Iâm sleeping in the recliner, so Iâll be right there in case you get spooked. Sound okay?â
He helped you gather what you needed, and soon your bed was all set up on the couch. You settled yourself on your pillow, wrapping yourself in the blankets and yawning as your body finally calmed itself. âI usually leave the TV on with the sound real low, will that bother you?â he asked as he took his seat in the recliner again.
âNo, it might actually help me sleep,â you said. âThank you, Russell.â
âAny time.â
The next morning you woke to the smell of fresh coffee brewing and bacon frying. Apparently Russell was an early riser. You got up from the couch and gathered your bedding, heading for the bedroom to get dressed. A pair of leggings and a big sweater seemed cozy, and after hitting the bathroom and combing through your hair, you made a beeline for the kitchen and the coffee pot.
âMorninâ,â Russell greeted you as you filled a mug with the steaming brew, holding it to your nose appreciatively.
âGood morning. Thank you for making coffee. And breakfast, I guess â do you want some help?â
He shot a smile over his shoulder. âGot it covered here, but you could make some toast, if you want. Scrambled or fried?â
The two of you sat in the breakfast nook to eat, Russell scrolling on his phone and you back to your paperback mystery. When you were finished, you chased him out of the kitchen, refusing to let him help with the dishes. âYou cooked, Iâll clean up.â
âIâm used to doing both, ya know,â he protested, but finally gave in and left you to it. You heard his phone ring as you finished up, and you were drying your hands as he walked back into the room.
âThat was â uh â the FBI.â
Your eyes widened in surprise. âThe FBI?â
âYeah. Apparently theyâve been investigating Vince for a while now for shady investment practices. They want to send an agent to talk to you, about the phone call you overheard and anything else you might have seen or heard that might help their case. Are you okay with that?â
You bit at your lip, but nodded in agreement. âI guess so â I donât know that Iâll be much help, but if it helps put him awayâŠâ
âColterâs in the area, said heâd bring her here this afternoon. I donât want you out in public if we can avoid it, not until heâs locked up.â You glanced at him nervously, and he put a calming hand on your shoulder. âIâm not trying to scare you â I just want you safe.â
âI know. Thanks.â
When the doorbell rang that afternoon, you watched nervously as Russell motioned you to stand back, then grabbed his gun from the end table and went to answer it. He peered through the peephole, then lowered his weapon and unlocked the door, opening it and stepping back to allow Colter and a woman in a dark pantsuit to enter. Colter spoke up to introduce you and Russell to the woman, who held out a hand to shake both of yours in turn.
âThank you for agreeing to meet with me,â she said, aiming her comment at you.
Russell stepped forward. âCan I get a minute before you do your thing?â The agent nodded, following him into the next room. Even though he kept his voice low, you could hear him, insisting that she keep in mind that you were innocent and that you not be treated like a criminal just because you were married to one.
You glanced over at Colter, blushing a little. âHeâs been very protective,â you said softly, and Colter smiled.
âYeah â thatâs no surprise. Heâs been doing it since we were kids. He stood between our dad and me â or dad and our little sister, Dory â so many times. Dad had â well, he had some mental issues. Russ took the brunt of a lot of his crap.â
Russell came through the door just then, giving you a quick smile and nodding towards the kitchen. âSheâs ready for you. If you need meâŠâ
You gave him a grateful smile in return. âIâll be fine. Thank you.â He moved to the side to let you walk by, watching until you took your seat across from the agent.
âHowâs she doing?â Colter asked quietly as his brother turned to face him.
âSheâs scared.â Russell gnawed at his lip a little, glancing over at Colter as he took a breath and exhaled with a short nod. âBut sheâll be all right.â
A couple of hours later the interview was over, and you said your goodbyes to Colter and the agent shortly after. You dropped down on the sofa with a sigh of relief, and Russell sat down nearby.
âSo â howâd it go?â
âShe asked about the phone call I overheard, wanted word for word as well as I could remember. Then she asked about people Iâd seen at Vinceâs parties, anything I might have heard in passing about specific things that maybe didnât mean anything to me but might help their case.â You took a deep breath. âShe said when they arrest him, theyâll seize all of his assets. But she said they found one account that was started in my name before we were married that he hadnât touched, and she said that will come to me. I remember right before we got married, I pulled my 401K from my job at the bank and had him invest it for me â he must have forgotten all about it. Itâs been sitting there for the last 10 years, slowly growing. So maybe Iâll be able to repay you for all of this after all.â
He sighed sharply. âI told you, I didnât ask to be paid. Youâll need that money to start over.â He lowered his head and looked at you from under raised brows. âI know itâs hard to believe, but Iâm not hurtinâ for cash. So I donât wanna hear another word about you paying me, okay?â
âRussell, I justâŠâ
âI mean it. Vince gets put away and you get a clean start. Thatâs payment enough for me.â You looked up into those captivating green eyes, his expression dead serious.
âOkay, okay, subject dropped,â you answered, and he allowed himself to smile.
âGood. Goddamn, youâre stubborn.â
You laughed softly, rising to your feet. âYou have no idea. Okay, Iâm going to go take a shower â if thatâs allowed?â you teased, laughing again as he blew out a disdainful breath.
âSmartass.â
The rest of that night was spent much as the first, eating in front of the TV, and Russell borrowed one of Reenieâs mystery thrillers to keep himself occupied. If he was being honest, he just wanted a distraction to keep his eyes from constantly wandering over to you as you read, occasionally trapping your lower lip between your teeth as you got engrossed in a passage. He started to read, but found his eyes drawn back again to the wisps of hair curling against the gentle slope of your neck. Luckily you were an avid reader and didnât notice his staring, but he mentally shook himself. This was a job, he was there to protect you, and that was all. He forced his eyes to the pages in front of him, determined to keep focused there, even though he would occasionally make sarcastic comments about how unrealistic it was.
Yawning, you finally laid your book aside and laid down, saying a soft âGood nightâ to Russell as you settled in. You slept well that night, the sound of the TV in the background and the knowledge that Russell was close giving you the peace of mind you needed to rest.
The next day you were going a little stir-crazy, feeling cooped-up and bored. You aimlessly wandered around the house, looking through closets and cupboards, letting out a happy cheer when you found an abandoned crossword puzzle book in a drawer in the kitchen. You settled on the couch, your legs crossed underneath you, glad to have found a distraction. âWho played Angel Eyes in The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly?â you asked, a thoughtful frown on your face as you chewed at your pen.
âLee Van Cleef,â he answered. âHow do you not know that?â
âYouâre the old movie buff. I only know the big ones â Casablanca, stuff like that.â
âSo you donât like westerns.â
You looked at him, an offended expression on your face. âI like westerns! I love John Wayne.â You filled in the answer and read another clue. âClint Eastwood western?â
Russell let out a mock impatient sigh. âObviously you need help.â He moved to plop down beside you, looking down at the page. âWhere does it go? Ok, got it â A Fistful of Dollars.â
The two of you worked your way through the apparently western-themed puzzle together, Russell teasing you about your lack of knowledge on the subject and laughing when you excitedly shouted the answer to an actual clue involving John Wayne. You finished putting the last answer in place and grinned up at him, your smile slowly fading as you looked into his eyes. The air suddenly seemed charged around you, your gaze traveling down to his lips as his tongue swept over them. Before you had time to think, he pushed up from the sofa and stood. His abrupt movement away from you broke the spell, and you swallowed hard, your heart pounding.
âIâm gonna go grab us some take-out. Chicken sound good?â He asked, not looking back as he headed for the door. You agreed, taking a relieved breath as he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.
You took a shaky breath as you put a hand to your face, your fingers cool against your flushed cheek. âWhat the hell was that?â you asked yourself out loud. Whatever it felt like, it couldnât be, that was for sure, you told yourself sternly. Tossing the book on the end table, you determinedly marched to the kitchen to mix up some brownies. Chocolate. You just needed some chocolate.
After lunch, Russell spent most of the afternoon out in the garage, saying he needed to do some work on the car, and you were honestly a little relieved. The last thing you wanted was to embarrass yourself with the man who was protecting you. It was probably just a reaction to him saving you, a rescue crush. And it didnât help that he was so aggressively good-looking. He was tall and lean, broad-shouldered, handsome as hell. That dark beard made his smile seem that much brighter, enough that it made it hard to breathe normally. And those mesmerizing green eyes â looking into them was just downright dangerous.
You spent the afternoon channel-surfing, did another puzzle and read your book for a while. Russell was in and out, keeping himself busy with something, you didnât know what, but you were sure he was avoiding you. Towards evening you headed for the kitchen, thoughts of searching for what to make for dinner on your mind. The blinds on the patio door were open, and you could see Russell adding wood to the fire pit, the flames already started. You watched him for a moment, completely unaware of the fond smile on your face. He looked up as you stood there, motioning for you to come out and join him.
You went to the closet and grabbed your jacket. Surely there was enough space outside that it would be safe to be around him, you thought to yourself, then slipped out the patio door, sliding it closed behind you. âMissing the great outdoors?â you asked and he grinned.
âI do love a good campfire and some fresh air.â He reached into the cooler sitting beside him. âAnd a cold beer â want one?â
âOoh, yes, please.â You breathed in, then searched for where the delicious aroma tickling your nose was coming from. âWhat smells so good?â
âOh, I threw a couple of steaks on the grill, and some potatoes. Hope that sounds okay.â
âSounds great â smells wonderful.â
His shoulders shook with a silent little laugh. âReminds me of that time my brother and I tried to cook over the campfire when we were kids. Almost burned the damn forest down.â He launched into the story, and before you knew it, you were both talking and laughing, relaxed with each other again. Russell was a great storyteller, and the time passed pleasantly as you ate together.
When you finished eating, you set your plate beside you on the bench with a satisfied sigh. âThat was delicious. Maybe you should be a chef when you retire from working security â or whatever it is that you do when youâre not being my guardian.â
He huffed out a laugh. âA chef - that was never on my list of things I wanted to do when I grew up. More like astronaut, firefighter, rock star, pitcher⊠the usual. Now â Iâm still searching. I thought about opening a craft brewery, sell my beer and have barbecue, so I guess thatâs close. But now? I donât know. After working with Colter, Iâm kind of thinking of going more that direction. Helping people. Who knows?â He took a swig from his beer and looked at you. âSo what do you want to do when you get back to your life?â
A log cracked in the fire, and you watched thoughtfully as a spray of sparks floated upwards into the darkening sky. âI used to dream about opening a book store and gift shop, with a coffee counter in the front. A couple of tables, and a few little reading nooks tucked in here and there. That would be nice.â You glanced back at him, then looked off into the distance. âBut what I really want â I just want to be able to go for a long walk without my paranoid husband sending security guys after me. I want to be able to eat a meal without someone criticizing me because I might gain weight. I want to be able to wear what I want when I want, and not hear a lecture about how Iâm ârepresentingâ him. I want to dance because I like the music, not because Iâm bait for lecherous old men who might be potential clients.â You stopped your tirade, letting out a deep breath. âSorry. I guess thatâs been bottled up inside me for a while.â
Russellâs eyes were warm and supportive as he responded. âNo need to apologize.â
You nodded, unable to continue looking at him, a little embarrassed. Russell watched you for a moment, then pulled his phone from his pocket. A fast country beat filled the air, and he set the phone down on the bench beside him, standing up and reaching out a hand. âOkay, letâs go â you wanna dance? Letâs dance.â
You looked up at him, unable to keep the shy smile from your face as you saw the grin on his. âYou dance?â
He scoffed with a little laugh. âDo I dance? Get up here.â
You never would have guessed it, but the man could dance. Before long he was swinging you around the patio, twirling you out and back, both of you smiling and laughing together. You danced your way through that song and the next, but then the music shifted to a slow ballad, and you both came to a stop, looking hesitantly at each other. Russellâs eyebrow lifted, his expression asking without words, and you gave a little shrug. He smirked, shrugging in reply, and pulled you closer, taking your hand in his and holding it close to his chest as his other hand rested warm on your lower back. You draped your arm over his shoulder, your hand resting at the back of his neck as you swayed together to the music.
The song began to fade away, and you realized you were resting your head on his shoulder, your fingers fidgeting with the soft hair that fell over his collar, and your face grew warm with a blush as you both stopped moving. You took a step back, grateful that it was evening and he hopefully wouldnât notice the color in your cheeks. âI â um â guess I should take these dishes inside,â you mumbled. You stepped away from him, gathering the dishes and turning to walk towards the patio door.
âYeah, I gotta take care of this fire, Iâll be inside in a minute,â he answered, his voice sounding just as strained as yours was. Maybe he was just as affected as you were? You chased that thought away with denial as you stepped inside, turning to close the door behind you. He had been polite and kind to you from the beginning, but never more than that. You watched him for a moment as he stuffed his phone into his pocket, then grabbed the bucket of water he had set nearby to put the fire out, his back facing towards you the whole time, and you finally turned away.
You headed for the living room, then turned back, going to the fridge for a bottle of water, your mind reeling with conflicting thoughts. You were attracted to him, you had been from the first moment he looked into your eyes and asked if you needed help. But that was just the trauma, right? You had gone through hell and he was being kind to you, thatâs all it was.
You were completely in your own head as you finally closed the door to the fridge and turned, rushing towards the living room, focused on your own thoughts. As you neared the doorway, you ran into a solid wall of man, the bottle of water in your hands flying to the floor and rolling away.
Russell grabbed your arms to steady you as you both spoke at the same time. âShit, Iâm sorry!â and âAre you okay?â and you wished you could just disappear from view.
He was close â so close. He smelled like wood smoke and cinnamon gum, beer and something masculine and warm that was just him and had your skin tingling. He looked down at you, his tongue darting out over his lips, his eyes steadily searching yours. He raised his hand, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw gently before he slipped them into your hair, and he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to push him away â but you had no desire to do that. His well-trimmed beard brushed against your cheek, softer than you expected, but you didnât have time to think about that because when his lips connected with yours, your brain ceased to function. You could focus on nothing but your heart pounding, your nerves buzzing, you could barely breathe. There was a throbbing between your thighs that made your knees weak, made you want him to throw you down and take you right there on the floor.
It all happened in a matter of seconds, and when he stopped suddenly, his hands dropping to his sides, your head was spinning at the sudden lack of his touch. His breathing was labored, his arms flexed as though they were fighting him to reach for you. He stared at the floor, taking a few breaths before he spoke, his voice husky and quiet. âThis is â I shouldnât have done that. Itâs a bad idea.â He tilted his head, a rueful little smirk flitting over his lips. âActually great idea for me. Very bad idea for you.â
You stared back at him, still stunned and silent. He stepped away, going to retrieve your bottle of water and bringing it back to you. You took it from him with a whispered âThank you,â and he gave a short, quick nod before turning to walk away.
You heard the bathroom door close, and finally started breathing again. So he was feeling it, too. He had slammed the brakes pretty hard, but he had said it was a bad idea for you. Unanswered questions filled your head â was he really just holding back because he thought youâd get hurt? Or was there something in his past he was worried about you finding out? He seemed like a good man, but you had a feeling there was a history there that he couldnât easily share. In spite of how you were feeling, you needed to try to get past it and get back to normal, or as normal as things could be for you at the moment. You glanced into the living room, making sure he was still out of sight, and headed quickly for the bedroom, closing the door. Youâd just get ready for bed, try to put it out of your mind, and move on. It wasnât going to be easy, since you could still feel his lips on yours, his fingers twining through your hair.
You changed into a t-shirt and shorts to sleep in, and after a few minutes battling with yourself, you finally grabbed your pillow and blanket and headed out to the couch. Russell was already settled in the recliner, searching for the classic movie channel he liked to leave on at night. You wrapped your blanket around you, snuggling down in your pillow. âReady for lights out?â Russell asked softly, and you mumbled a âYeahâ in reply. He turned off the lamp next to him and left you both in the flickering light of the TV.
You laid there, staring at the glowing images on the screen, pretending to be trying to go to sleep. You were wide awake, unable to stop thinking about that kiss, craving more. It was infuriating, really, that Russell had just walked away like it was nothing and you were left wanting something he was apparently not willing to give, whatever his reasons.
You fought the urge to toss and turn, acutely aware of how close he was, probably watching whatever it was that was on the screen. But your imagination was merciless, showing you the possibilities, teasing you with images and thoughts of erotic touches, of his lips on your skin, of his calloused hands in places that ached for him.
He cleared his throat, shifting restlessly in his seat, and your resolve to act as if everything was fine crumbled. You threw back the blanket, your heart pounding as you crawled down the length of the sofa and straddled Russellâs lap. His eyes went wide, your fingers on his lips cutting off his startled âWhatâŠ?â
You stared down at him, slowly removing your hand and resting it on his chest, your voice hushed as you spoke. âI donât care if itâs a bad idea.â You could feel his heart rate rising beneath your hand, his eyes fluttering shut just before yours did as you leaned down into him, your lips landing on his in a soft kiss.
His hands drifted up to rest on your back, his cock steadily swelling underneath you. You moaned softly, grinding down into him, and he drew back, panting for air as he looked up at you. You kept your eyes on his, sliding back off his lap as he raised the recliner upright, and you took hold of his hand to lead him with you back to the couch. You spread the blanket out as Russell came up behind you, his hands moving to your hips as you straightened back up. âTold myself I wasnât gonna do this,â he said softly as you leaned back into his chest. âYouâre making me a liar.â
You couldnât help smiling a little before you turned to face him. âYou need to know â I donât have any expectations. I know, when this is all over, that youâre going to leave, move on to your next job, and Iâll be going back and try to start my life over again. But Iâm not askingâŠâ For some reason your eyes began to sting with tears, and you blinked hard to chase them away. âIâm not asking for anything more than you want to give.â
Russell stared down at you for a second before his arms wrapped around you, the last shreds of his resistance evaporating as he pulled you close. His lips landed soft but decisive on yours, his tongue teasing at your lips, and you opened to him, a whimper in your throat as you slipped your arms around his neck.
After a moment or two, he parted from you one more time, one hand rising to drag a thumb across his mouth as he cleared his throat. âI â uh â donât have a condom.â
You reached for his hand. âItâs okay. Weâre good.â
âYou sure? Because if youâd rather not...â The tip of his tongue peeked out, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. âIâd be more than happy to take care of you some other way.â His thumb brushed over the top of your hand, his words invoking images in your mind that sent a flash of heat through your body.
You finally found your voice, although it was a little breathless and stammering. âI promise weâre good â but⊠Well, that sounds â umm â amazing, too.â His lips curved in a one-sided smirk as he stared into your eyes. He reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head, then did the same with his before he pulled you back into his arms and kissed you again. You buried your fingers in his hair as you leaned into him, breasts crushed to his chest, your pulse racing.
He moved you backwards until your legs ran into the couch, then slid his hands down your sides to your hips, pushing your shorts down until they fell to the floor. You stepped out of them and let him lower you down to the sofa, stretching out with your head on your pillow. He put a knee down between your legs, sliding his palm up the outside of your thigh and guiding it up to his hip as he lowered himself down over you.
He kissed you, deep and hungry, rutting his still-clothed erection gently against your thigh, and the combination was driving you insane in the best possible way. He propped himself up on one elbow, his other hand beginning to roam, and he moaned in appreciation as he brushed a palm over your breast. He gave each one a little attention as he moved his lips across your jaw to your pulse point, then steadily moved down your body, his destination clear.
Your stomach muscles quivered as his lips traveled over your soft skin. Your entire body tensed, frozen in anticipation of what was about to happen. He splayed his fingers over your hips, his thumbs pulling gently at your mound to give him easier access to your swollen clit. He leaned in close to place soft, lingering kisses over your pussy before exploring you thoroughly with his tongue, finally dipping it inside you and then dragging it up and over your clit.
He teased you that way until you were rearing your head back into your pillow, one hand behind your head gripping the arm of the couch and the other clutching at his hair. Then he pulled your clit between his lips, his tongue brushing over it as he worked two fingers inside you, curling them to rub against your walls. When you gasped, he hummed his approval, stroking over that sweet spot heâd been searching for, your grip on his hair tightening as he gave your clit a hard suck.
He raised his eyes to look at you, your eyes half closed in bliss, your other hand now tugging and twisting at your nipples. âJesus,â he swore, watching you for a moment longer before he nuzzled his face against you and sucked hard, pulsing his tongue with the movement of his fingers. Your back arched as you let out a cry, your cunt clutching at his fingers as you came undone, your hips bucking into his thrusts as you rode out your climax.
You watched him through half-lidded eyes as he slowly pulled his fingers free, making you shiver. He sucked them clean, then grabbed a corner of the blanket and scrubbed it over his face before moving up to nibble at your lips. âTold you Iâd take care of you,â he teased, and he grinned as you blinked slowly and gave him a faint smile.
âMmmm-hmmmm,â you agreed between his soft kisses.
âThis doesnât have to go any further if you donât want it to,â he said quietly, and you opened your eyes to stare up at him.
âDonât tell me youâre quitting on me.â The corner of his mouth quirked a little, those green eyes shining down at you even in the dim light.
âOnly if you want me to,â he answered, pausing as he waited for your response.
âI donât,â you said, pulling him down with a hand on the back of his neck to kiss him, a nip to his bottom lip making him grunt a little. âSo stop teasing already.â
His chest vibrated against you as he chuckled, then raised up to his knees, shoving his clothes down to free himself. He slipped one arm beneath your knee, lifting it to open you up further for him as he settled back between your thighs. He took his time, pushing inside you slow and steady, giving you time, watching your face closely. Your breath was frozen in your lungs as you adjusted to his generous size, finally able to exhale when your bodies were flush and he stopped moving, bending to nuzzle his face into your neck. âMmmm, you feel amazing,â he rumbled, his lips roaming over the soft skin there.
âGod, so do you,â you managed before he began to move, melting your words into a moan. The slick drag of him inside you lit every nerve on fire, and you clutched your arms around his middle, digging your fingers into his back. He took his time, in and out slowly, barely inching out at first and building up until he was pulling almost all the way out before gliding smoothly back in to the limit. When you finally relaxed, adjusted to him, he began to ramp up his speed and drove into you faster, harder, until your nails were digging into his back and you wrapped your leg tight around him.
He shifted his hold on your other knee, tilting you back a little farther, your sweet spot now a bullseye with every stroke. He let out a low groan as your cunt began to clench around him, letting go completely and fucking into you hard, wanton sounds forced from you with every thrust. He let out a soft growl, a sound that sent you careening over the edge, your back arching up beneath him as you came with an unearthly howl of his name.
He joined you with a loud groan, cursing under his breath as he fucked you through your orgasm and his, finally collapsing on top of your quivering body. You breathed helpless little whimpers into his shoulder, your arms going limp as he slipped his arm out from under your knee and hugged your thigh to his side. It was some time before either of you moved, spent and contented to stay right where you were.
You had actually started dozing off when Russell moved, and you shivered as he slipped free from you and stood up. He tossed his sweats over his shoulder, shuffling his way to the bathroom, and you let out a sleepy sigh and sat up, reaching down to the floor for a shirt. It happened to be his, but you didnât mind. When he came back, you stood up to head to the bathroom, but he put his arms around you and kissed you softly, pausing your trip for a few welcome minutes.
You cleaned up and went back out into the living room, smiling as you saw him spreading a clean blanket on the couch. You grabbed your shorts from the floor and slipped them on as you waited, and he turned to look at you with a faint smile as he finished. âWant me to go back to the recliner?â he asked quietly, and you shook your head.
âNo. Stay with me â I mean, if you want.â
His smile broadened, and he plopped down, his back to the back of the couch. âCâmere, you.â
You laid down beside him, and he pulled the blanket from the back of the couch to cover you both before he slipped one arm underneath your neck, the other around your waist to hold you close as he curled himself around you. Warm and happy, you fell asleep in his arms, the most peaceful youâd felt in years.
You woke up the next morning, reluctant to let yourself drift into full consciousness. But the tempting aroma of brewing coffee finally prompted your eyes to open, breathing deep as the sleepy daze cleared from your brain. Russell was humming a little off-key as he worked on whatever breakfast he was concocting that morning, and you smiled to yourself.
You stretched, feeling the ache of muscles you hadnât used in a while, but it was a good feeling. However, before you went to the kitchen to join Russell, you definitely wanted to take a shower. You threw the blanket off and headed for the bathroom. The mirror was still a little foggy, so Russell had obviously already been in there. Happily, you found a scrunchie in Reenieâs bag of toiletries, and you put your hair up before climbing into a hot shower.
You dried off, refreshed and fully awake, wrapping a towel around yourself so you could make your way to the bedroom and get dressed. You stepped out into the hallway, a cloud of vanilla and jasmine steam billowing out behind you. Russellâs voice calling your name stopped you in your tracks, and he stepped through the kitchen doorway into the living room, still talking.
âI made breakfast, sausage and stuff, if youâreâŠâ he stopped in mid-sentence, his mouth open as he stared at you. âHungry,â he finished, then snapped his mouth shut, his lips pursing and brows bunching in a contemplative expression before he dropped the spatula he was holding to the floor. âYeah, it can wait.â
Before you could react, he had you pinned between the hallway wall and his body, his lips crashing down on yours in a ravenous kiss. You blinked up at him, stunned, as he raised his head, his eyes burning into yours. âI told you this was a bad idea,â he rasped, closing his eyes for a beat before he went on. âYou are playing hell with my impulse control.â
You kept your eyes on his as you reached for the snap on his jeans, popping it loose before pulling his zipper down. âLosing control once in a while isnât such a bad thing,â you said, watching his upper lip twitch as you shoved his clothing out of the way and wrapped your hand around his hard cock. He grabbed a handful of your towel and tugged hard, pulling it free where you had it tucked in between your breasts. He tossed it to the side and scooped you up, his hands under your thighs, lifting you to his waist. You gasped as his hot length was trapped between his stomach and your already leaking pussy, your arms wrapped around his neck as he rutted against you, coating himself in your juices. Then he lifted you a little, holding you with one arm while he positioned himself at your entrance.
âYou ready?â he rumbled, his eyes on your face as he waited.
You nodded, clinging tight to his neck as he lowered your body, impaling you fully, a breathless, silent moment before he began to move. Then his fingers dug into your hips as he fucked into you, forcing sounds from you with every powerful thrust as your bodies slammed together. His forehead rested on your shoulder as he focused everything on driving you both over the edge, hard and fast.
He came first, and you followed close behind, resting your cheek on the top of his head as you both panted like you had run a marathon. He finally straightened up, then bent his head to kiss you, slow and deep, before lifting you up and lowering you to the floor. You still clung to him, your legs a little shaky, for a long moment, then gave him a coy smile. âNow I need another shower,â you said, and he grinned.
âMe, too â so how about we go clean up, and then we can eat. Donât know about you, but Iâm starved.â
âSorry you went to all that work, and now itâs probably all cold.â You reached up to stroke his cheek with your fingertips, and you smiled as he leaned into your touch.
âNope. I stuck it all in the oven to stay warm.â
âSmart man!â
âIâve been known to have an occasional flash of brilliance. Until you come walking out dressed in nothing but a little towel, and all the blood leaves my brain,â he teased, and you laughed as he herded you into the bathroom for yet another shower.
The next couple of days were amazing. The freedom of being able to be yourself without a filter, without judgment or disapproval â it was like you had been set free from years of confinement. The common sense part of your brain knew that this was all temporary, that it would be gone in the blink of an eye when the time came, but you chose to ignore that nagging voice and live for the day.
Russell had lightened up considerably since you had first met him, too. Maybe it was good for him to have a little time away from gunfire and commando tactics. You talked, and laughed, watched movies together, cooked and ate, drank beer by the fire outside, and even danced again.
And you had sex that you knew youâd never equal with anyone else. He stopped you in the middle of cooking dinner once, plopping you up on the counter top and stripping your pants off so he could go down on one knee and make you his appetizer.
He pulled you over onto his lap during a movie, taking off your shirt and bra and leaning you back against his chest, teasing and tugging at your nipples. He whispered in your ear in that sinful voice, sweet and dirty, until you were a whining mess, begging him to fuck you.
He kissed you awake in the early morning, the two of you making out like teenagers, the sex slow and lazy and perfect.
But late that evening, his phone rang, and you felt your stomach drop. It was over.
He hung up and turned towards you, teeth denting his lower lip before he met your eyes. âThey just arrested Vince. Heâs being charged with murder and your kidnapping, along with all the financial shit. They found the bodies of the two that grabbed you buried in the woods north of your brotherâs house. Heâs never getting out.â He sighed, watching your face. âYouâre free. You can finally live your own life.â
You dropped down onto the sofa, nodding, your voice barely audible. âYeah. I guess so.â
He sat down beside you, reaching for your hand, which was trembling a little. âYou okay?â
You blew out a breath, still afraid to look at him again, your emotions too close to the surface. âI will be.â
âWeâre supposed to meet Reenie and that FBI agent at the house tomorrow at nine. Your brotherâs coming, too. Theyâll help you get your stuff together before the FBI seizes Vinceâs property.â
You nodded, then sighed, raising your head to look up at him. âOkay. Back to reality.â
He pulled his hand away, putting it to his chest in mock offense. âLike Iâm not real?â he scoffed, and you smiled in spite of yourself.
âRussell, youâre the realest thing thatâs happened to me in the last few years, trust me.â
He grinned, standing up. âWant a beer before we crash for the night?â
âYeah. I could use one.â
You watched him walk to the kitchen, an ache blooming in your chest. He was right. It had been a bad idea. But it was too late, and this was going to hurt like hell.
Russell came back with beer for the two of you, and you did your best to act like everything was fine as you talked and laughed half-heartedly at the sitcom on the TV. It was already late, and you wished you could just start the day over again. You took the empty bottles and carried them to the trash in the kitchen, stopping to stare out the patio door for a moment.
You felt Russellâs presence behind you before he spoke. âShould have had a fire tonight, huh? Didnât knowâŠâ
âThat we wouldnât have another night.â You sighed, and he put a hand on your shoulder.
âDo you want me to sleep in the recliner tonight? I mean, making a clean break mightâŠâ
âMake it easier?â You looked up at him. âOr maybe we should just enjoy the one night we have left.â
His eyes were shining, soft in the dim light as he looked down at you. âNot gonna lie, I was hoping youâd say that.â His arms surrounded you, pulling you close as he bent to kiss you, your hands clenching fistfuls of his t-shirt as you leaned into him.
At least youâd have one more memory to take with you.
You woke early the next morning, reluctant to open your eyes and face the day. Russell, of course, was already awake and had coffee going, so you forced yourself to get up, grab your clothes, and take a shower. Every task was an effort of will â all you really wanted to do was roll up in your blankets and refuse to move.
You stood beneath the hot spray, eyes closed as you washed your body, remembering every moment of the night before. You had taken things slow, exploring each other as if you were sharing secrets no one else would ever know. You had memorized every tattoo, every scar on Russellâs body, reveled in the sensation of the muscles in his back rolling and straining beneath your fingertips as he fucked into you, riding the waves of pleasure he invoked with his touch. He had sent jolts of white hot fire through your veins as he marked you, sharp teeth and soothing tongue, on your breasts, the soft flesh of your lower belly, and the one he made on your inner thigh right next to your pussy had almost made you come. You hung up your towel and ran your fingers over the bruises as you stood in front of the mirror, wishing you could make them stay forever.
When you walked into the kitchen, Russell mumbled a âMorninââ from the breakfast nook, and you answered him softly. He was quiet, scrolling on his phone, not chatty as he had been the last few days. He was distancing himself, you could tell, and it felt like the first day you had been here all over again.
You drank your coffee and stood to go and pack. âDonât bother with the blankets or anything,â he said, âColter and I are coming back later to clean out the house.â
âOkay. Thanks,â you answered, leaving the room, suddenly needing to be as far away from him as possible. This didnât seem to be bothering him one bit.
By the time you got packed, it was time to hit the road. Russell took the suitcase from you and opened the door, and you started out. âOh, wait,â you said, turning back and going to the end table next to the sofa. You opened the drawer and grabbed the crossword puzzle book. You didnât look at him as you headed back to the door â he didnât need to know you wanted it because working that puzzle was the first time there had been sparks between you. He probably wouldnât understand, anyway.
You climbed into the passenger seat, he got behind the wheel, and you left the house behind, watching out your window as you passed it by. You had barely spoken to or looked at each other, and the silence in the car was oppressive. Several miles went by that way until you couldnât keep your hurt contained any longer.
âI should have listened to you. You were right. It was a fucking bad idea.â You took a shaky breath. âIt must be nice.â
âWhat?â
There was a bitter edge to your words as you answered him. âThe way youâre able to shut off your feelings. Itâs so easy for you, like flipping a fucking switch.â
Your resentment hung thick in the air, and after a few seconds, you assumed he wasnât going to respond. Then Russell spoke softly, his voice taut. âWhat makes you think itâs easy?â
There was a note of hurt in his words, and you wished you could just take everything youâd said back, but it was too late. None of this was his fault. You had pushed the issue even after he had tried to take a step back, and you had no right to attack him for it. But you couldnât find the right thing to say, so you just finished the ride to town in yet more silence.
When you pulled up in front of your former home, Reenie, your brother, and the FBI agent who had interviewed you were standing near the front steps talking. âIâll grab your bag,â Russell said, and you said a quiet âThank youâ as you got out of the car.
Grant met you halfway, hugging you with a smile. Russell brought your bag over, and Grant took it from him. âThanks, Iâll put this in the trunk.â
Reenieâs observant eyes shifted from Russell to you and back again, Russellâs gaze sliding away from hers to the ground near his feet. Colter was leaning on his truck, parked out on the street, and lifted a hand in greeting. âWell, I guess I should get going. Colter will bring me back to pick up my car after we finish up at the house.â He looked at you, but you barely glanced his direction. âTake care of yourself,â he said quietly, and you nodded in reply. He bit at his lip, then gave a little nod and turned to walk away.
You finally raised your eyes, watching him until he was halfway out to the street, your heart finally forcing you to call out to him. âRussell! Wait.â
He stopped, turning slowly as you rushed out to meet him. âRussell â Iâm sorry. I shouldnât have said those things, I didnât mean any of it.â
âDonât worry about it. I get it.â
You shook your head, your eyes stinging with tears. âNo, you didnât deserve any of it. In fact, I need to thank you.â He started to shake his head, and you grabbed his hand. âNo, listen. I need to thank you. Not just for the rescue. Russell, you saved me. You made me feel again after years of being numb. You made me feel like myself again. I needed someone, and you were there for me. Iâll never forget it.â
He looked into your eyes, his jaw ticking as he stared at you for a moment. Then he cradled your face in both hands, bending to kiss you, his lips clinging to yours for a long, bittersweet moment before he let you go, brushing a tear from your cheek before he dropped his hands to his sides.
âIâm gonna miss you,â you said in a wavering voice, watching his face as he held his emotions in check.
A brief, sad little smile flitted over his lips, and he dipped his head in acknowledgment. âMe too, sweetheart.â He reached out to give your hand one more squeeze before he turned and walked away.
You watched as he and Colter got into the truck, raised a hand to wave as they did the same, then drove away. You finally turned and walked back to the house, walking straight into your brotherâs arms. You shed a few tears on his shoulder, then raised your head with a heavy sigh. âOkay. Letâs get this over with.â
A few miles down the road, Colter glanced over at his brother, who was staring silently out the window, dragging his fingers absently through his beard. âWanna talk about it?â
Several moments passed before Russell took a deep breath, exhaling hard before he spoke, his voice subdued. âDid you ever meet somebody who makes you wish like hell you could be what they deserve?â
Colter cleared his throat as he looked steadily at the road. âYeah.â
Colter never mentioned you when he and Russell called each other or got together. He figured he probably came closer to understanding his brother than just about anyone, and he knew Russell wouldnât â or couldnât â talk about it anyway.
Yeah, Colter understood Russell, as well as anyone probably did â except maybe Reenie Green. Russell stayed in touch with her, like he always had, the two of them exchanging banter and joking insults. But when the conversation slowed, when that moment of silence sat heavy between them, Reenie would speak softly. âSheâs safe, Russell. Sheâs happy.â No details, which was good, because Russell didnât want details. He probably couldnât handle details. And then theyâd end the conversation, like they always did, until the next time.
He still dreamed about you. He could still hear your voice, your laugh. He still woke up some nights feeling the softness of your skin on his fingertips, the scent of your hair and the taste of your lips lingering. And he still told himself your life was good, was better without his past, his baggage weighing you down.
You deserved a fresh start, a new life. He could handle being haunted by your memory. He was used to being haunted by his past.
Time cast a spell on you but you won't forget me
I know I could have loved you but you would not let me
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This is my entry for the Storytellers Contest: The Jensen Ackles Chronicles! I hope you'll give it a read, and check out the other entries at: @storytellers-contest-tjac
Then vote for your favorite here!
Have some fun, escape the real world for a while, and send us hungry writers some love! đ„°đ„°đ„°
Have you checked out @storytellers-contest and our first contest @storytellers-contest-tjac yet? It's really cool and you should follow them both for exciting stories, announcements, and more.
But wait... our first contest entries are out and you can read them here!
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The heat wave is making you a little crazy. But when it brings a gorgeous stranger and his overheated car to your front door - well, it's not the only thing that gets overheated.
I blame my bestie, Liz ( @jensensgotyoudean ) for this, so I'm dedicating it to her! đđ„° Dividers from @firefly-graphics â€ïž
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 3487
Warnings: Just hot, sweaty smut! đ
It was utterly miserable outside â 111 degrees, humidity like a sauna, not a cloud anywhere in sight.
You had forced yourself to go out, hook up the sprinkler hose that was nestled throughout the flowers around your house. At least they were in the shade of the building, but they were still wilting and sad. You turned the water on and hoped it would soak in and help them survive this apocalyptic heat.
You could feel the sweat trickle down between your breasts, and you tugged at your tank top with the flimsy built-in bra (the only bra you could fathom wearing in this heat), fanning it out from your body in an attempt to cool yourself down, but it was hopeless. At least you werenât stuck in a city full of concrete. You lived on a little acreage a couple of miles from Smith Center, Kansas, Highway 36 in view from your front yard. At least you had green grass and trees. If they didnât dry up and burst into flames like giant tiki torches from the weather.
You had air conditioning in the house, but you were sick of being cooped up inside. So you let the water soak the flowers and went in to grab a glass of iced tea, then sat down on the porch swing, kicking your flip-flops off. Even your cut-offs and tank top felt stifling on your body, but at least you were getting some fresh air. Super-heated, humid, almost unbreathable fresh air.
You heard the rumble of an engine on the highway, squinting to watch as a large, black car came into view from behind the trees, heading east. As it drew near your driveway, you could see what appeared to be smoke pouring out from under the hood. It made the turn into your drive, sputtering as it made its way close to where your car was parked, then died.
You rose to your feet and slipped your flip-flops back on, glancing down at your clothes. It wasnât like you were dressed for company, but it was too late to worry about it now. You tried to see who was behind the wheel, but the sun glinting off the windshield made that impossible, so you shrugged and went down the steps to greet whoever was driving. When he climbed out of the car, your mouth dropped open, and you stopped in your tracks for a second.
You could have sworn the temperature just rose another 20 degrees. This man was a whole other level of hot. Drool-inducing, panty-melting, fantasy-inspiring hot - tall, lean, bow-legged, broad-shouldered, and gorgeous. As you forced yourself to close your mouth, he swore, talking to the car.
âSon-of-a-bitch! Come on, Baby, weâre almost home.â The frown between his brows (even that was attractive) smoothed out a bit as he saw you approaching (once you recovered your ability to walk). âHey, sorry about that. I guess this heat is too much even for my Baby today.â
âI can see that!â
He turned to raise the hood, steam surrounding him as he propped it in place, and you swore you could hear porn music playing in the background as you stared at his biceps. You stifled a groan at the play of muscle underneath his grey t-shirt, which was rapidly growing darker with sweat in the heat and clinging to his back. âIâd better let her cool off.â
âI can hook up the hose so you can put some water in the radiator after it sits for a bit.â You were sounding far less wilted than you had felt before he got out of that car, that was for sure.
He smiled, and your heart did a somersault in your chest. âThat would be awesome, thanks.â He followed you around to the side of the house, and you shut off the water to your flowers, then reached to unscrew the sprinkler hose. It had apparently welded itself to the spigot â you couldnât get it to budge. You bent over, struggling to force the stubborn coupling to loosen up, but it was hopeless. You turned, frustrated, and your unexpected visitorâs eyes traveled quickly back up to your face as his tongue swept over his lips. âI â uh⊠Here, let me give it a try.â
He stepped forward to deal with the stubborn fitting, and you blushed at your thoughts. Had he been staring at your ass? Speaking of⊠Your eyes were currently glued on his backside as he finally managed to unscrew the sprinkler hose. You shook your head to break the spell and rushed over to grab the regular hose from its storage on the side of the house, handing it to him without meeting his eyes. You had to calm your hormones before you made a total ass of yourself over this guy.
âI have some iced tea in the house â or would you rather have a beer?â
He straightened up after hooking up the hose, turning to grin at you and sending another flood of those pesky hormones flooding into your bloodstream. âA beer sounds great, thanks. And my nameâs Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.â
You smiled back at him as you introduced yourself, then went up the steps and into the house to fetch a couple of cold beers from your fridge. Of course, you stood with your head inside of it for a couple of minutes first, thinking about the way you could feel his eyes following you as you had walked away from him. And you had thought this stay-at-home vacation was going to be boring.
You headed back outside, and Dean walked back towards you from where he had dragged the hose over near his car. You couldnât stop staring at that bow-legged stride, the denim of his jeans hugging those strong thighs, and you dropped down to sit on the steps to mask your agitation. He plopped down beside you, gratefully taking the beer you offered. âThanks - nothing like an ice cold beer when itâs hot as hell out,â he said grinning over at you. You agreed, watching as he tipped his bottle and took a long pull. You followed suit quickly, because otherwise you were going to moan out loud at the sight of his perfect lips on the rim of the bottle, the tip of his tongue touching the opening before he drank. There were several very filthy thoughts battling for space in your head, and you could feel your pulse beating between your thighs.
âSoooo,â you started, a little too loudly, but you quickly caught yourself and adjusted your volume. âI heard you say you were almost home â where are you from?â
âMy brother and I live a couple miles south of Lebanon.â
âI guess weâre almost neighbors, then,â you said, inwardly cringing at your lack of small talk skills.
Dean gave you a crooked smile, nodding his head. âYeah, I guess we are. So if I come knocking at your door to borrow a cup of sugar, you got me covered?â
You smiled. âAny time.â
He picked at the label on his bottle, shooting a sideways glance your way with a sly quirk of his lips. âAs long as your boyfriend isnât the jealous type.â You laughed softly, and he nudged your shoulder with his. âWhat, too subtle?â
âNo boyfriend. Just an ex-husband, but thatâs old news.â You met his green-eyed gaze, which had your breath catching in your chest for a moment. âHow about you?â
âNope, completely free.â A warm smile slowly spread across his face, making your stomach do a little flip. âSo far.â He winked, so quickly that you werenât completely sure you hadnât imagined it, and then drained the rest of his beer and rose to his feet. âLetâs see if I can bring Baby back to life, huh?â
You went to the side of the house and waited for his shout, then turned on the water. You waited for him to call out again to shut it back off, then walked back around the house as he slid behind the wheel. You heard him turn the key with a âCome on, Baby!â and then a âThatâs my girl!â when the engine roared to life. You were trying to stifle your smile when he shut the engine off and climbed back out, but he just grinned back at you before turning around to put the hood down.
He headed back your way, wiping his hands on the tail of his t-shirt. âIf youâre not in a hurry, you could come inside and cool off before you head home, have another beer.â You shrugged as if it was no big deal, but you were holding your breath as you waited for his reply.
âYeah, thanks. Lead the way.â You smiled and turned to go up the steps, Dean right behind you. You both let out a relieved sigh at the cool air in the house compared to the sauna-like atmosphere outside. âDamn, does that feel good,â he said as you kicked off your flip-flops. He bent to untie his boots, but you stopped him.
âYou donât have to do that, really.â He glanced up to see that you were sincere, gave a little nod in acknowledgment, and followed you into the kitchen.
You went to the fridge, grabbed a couple more beers, and handed him one, turning to lean against the island as you opened yours. Dean settled against the counter top across from you, flipping his lid into the trash with perfect aim, then tilting his head back to take several swallows as you lost yourself in the sight.
His t-shirt was stuck to his body, his nipples showing through the damp cotton of his shirt. You stared at his throat as he drank, watching with bated breath as a bead of sweat trickled from his hairline all the way down his neck. He licked his lips as he set his bottle down beside him, his eyes moving from your parted lips to your breasts as they rose and fell with your rapidly increasing breathing. Your heart was beginning to pound, and you took your bottom lip between your teeth for a second before you spoke, your voice breathless. âSo, do you wannaâŠâ
âHell, yeah,â he growled out before you could finish, and then he was on you before you could blink. You reached back blindly, your beer thankfully settling in an upright position as he pinned you against the island and took your lips in a ravenous kiss, all tongues and teeth and hunger. He had both hands on your ass, kneading and squeezing as your fingers clawed at his back, and you could feel him rapidly growing hard as he pressed closer.
He finally broke the kiss, barely parting from you and still nibbling at your lips as he spoke. âIâve got some condoms in my bag in the trunk.â
You shook your head, kissing him again and making him moan as you sucked the tip of his tongue. âDown the hall, nightstand, top drawer,â you managed before he flashed a grin, giving your left cheek one more squeeze before he rushed away to follow your directions.
Dean was back before you finished taking a swallow of your beer. He took the bottle from your hand, turning to set it next to his on the opposite counter top. âMight need some room,â he said as he moved close again, putting his hands on your waist and boosting you up to the top of the island. He slipped his fingers up under the hem of your shirt, looking into your eyes. âCan I?â
You nodded, holding his gaze as he slowly peeled your tank top up, then over your head. He tossed it behind him without taking his eyes from your breasts. âYour turn,â you said softly, giving his shirt a tug, and he pulled it off in one quick move, then moved in close. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him snug between your thighs as you ran your fingertips over his chest, tracing the pattern of his tattoo.
He put a hand on your knee, moving it up slowly until his fingers slipped under the frayed hem of your cutoffs. âI should tell you, these Daisy Dukes have been making me crazy,â he rumbled, making you shiver as he traced a line forward and along the crease of your thigh. He leaned down to kiss you as he worked your zipper open, and you moaned into his mouth as he shoved his hand into your panties, his strong fingers gliding through your slick folds as he hummed against your lips.
âWell, I should tell you Iâve been wet for you since you first climbed out of that car,â you said, your voice raspy with arousal. His lips curved into a sexy smirk, and you leaned back on your elbows to lift up a little as he pulled your shorts and panties down, letting them fall to the floor.
He pulled you back up against his chest, kissing you again as he slipped a finger up inside you, stroking, searching until you squirmed with a little whimper. You felt him smile against your lips, and then he added another finger, rubbing firm circles over your clit with his thumb as he brushed his fingertips repeatedly over your sweet spot.
Dean rested his forehead on yours as you raised you hips to chase his thrusts. It felt amazing, but at the moment there was only one thing you wanted. You clutched desperately at the waistband of his jeans, popping the button free and jerking the zipper down. He grunted as you gave his erection a squeeze, then tugged at his jeans until he pulled his fingers from you, a low chuckle in his throat. âOkay, okay, I get it,â he managed to say as you looked up at him with a coy smile, and he shoved his pants down, your eyes widening a little at the sight of him. He rolled the condom on and moved in close again, rubbing his sheathed cock through your slick pussy.
âDeanâŠ.â you whined softly at the friction on your swollen clit, and he leaned close, whispering in your ear.
âShhhh, sweetheart, I got you.â He reached down, guiding his cock to your entrance and pushing forward as you clutched at the back of his neck. You chased his lips, kissing him desperately as he worked his way inside you with short strokes until he was buried deep, your hips rising to meet him. Every sensitive nerve inside you was singing, your body trembling at being filled to the limit.
You were panting as you pulled back from the kiss, and Dean put a hand to your face, brushing your damp hair back from your forehead, his green eyes warm as he gazed into yours. âYou doing ok?â
You leaned into his touch with a euphoric little smile, then nodded. âIâm good. Really good.â He flashed a quick grin before giving you a gentle kiss, letting his hand drift down to cup your breast. âCould be better,â you mumbled against his lips, giggling as he drew back and looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow, a sparkle in his eyes.
âOh, yeah?â
You reached down to squeeze his ass â his very firm, pert ass â and leaned up to whisper in his ear. âFuck me, Dean.â
He didnât make you wait. He braced one hand on your hip and wrapped an arm around you to hold you close as he began to rut into you, staying deep inside you at first, then pulling out farther and driving back into you faster and harder. Your thighs tightened around him, your hips bucking into his thrusts as your fingers dug into the muscle of his back, his skin slick with sweat. Moans of pleasure and grunts of effort filled the air as you began to clench and pulse around his cock, and you arched your back and cried out as you came undone.
âFuck, sweetheart,â Dean swore softly as he lost control, his cock throbbing inside you as your orgasm sent him over the edge with you. You strained against him, whimpering at the intensity of the sensations washing through you, finally slumping with your face against his chest, a shudder making you clench around his still-pulsing length. He leaned forward, slightly trembling, holding you tight with one arm as he braced a hand on the counter, his chest heaving beneath your cheek as he slowly came down from his high.
He rested his head on top of yours, his warm breath stirring your hair. âYouâre fucking incredible,â he breathed, raising back up as you moved to look up at him.
âPretty incredible yourself,â you responded with a languid smile. âI havenât felt this good in â well, ever.â His eyes searched yours as he bent close to kiss you, sending a wave of warmth through you.
âYou know, I could kiss you for hours. Possibly days.â
He laughed softly, his fingers trailing along your jaw. âWell, maybe weâll work on that. But I should probably take care ofâŠâ He glanced down pointedly at where you were still joined, and you smiled.
âOh â yeah â I guess so.â You held your breath as he pulled himself free, then put his hands on your waist and helped you down off the island. He smiled down at you, his eyes scanning over your body with a naughty smirk as he let out a soft âMmm-mmm.â
âIâll be back,â he said, hitching his pants up, and you stared as he walked away from you, heading to the bathroom. You collapsed back against the counter, blowing out a breath in aroused appreciation. You had just had sex with a complete stranger who was hot enough to fuel your fantasies for many, many years into the future â and you were pretty sure you werenât finished with him yet. In fact, you were sure of it. So you stood up straight and headed for the bathroom, in all your naked glory, with a big smile on your face.
When he opened the door, you were standing there waiting. His eyes widened a little, his smile slowly growing as you peered up at him with a flirty expression. âI need a shower. And youâre welcome to join.â You pushed your way by him, letting your breasts brush against his arm on the way by, grinning to yourself as you heard him chuckle.
You reached in and turned on the water to let it warm up, and Dean watched you with appreciation, pulling his lip between his teeth. âI â uh â have some clean clothes out in the car. Iâll be right back.â
You shot him a sidelong glance with a smile as you stepped into the shower, sliding the glass door shut behind you. He let out a low whistle before he rushed to the front door, heading for the car to get his duffle bag and pulling out his phone to call his brother. âSammy? Yeah, had a little car trouble, I wonât be home until tomorrow sometime. Nah, nothing serious. Yep, later.â
Sometime tomorrow. Next day at the latest. He smirked to himself as he closed the trunk, patting the Impalaâs roof on the way by as he headed back to the house. âI owe you, Baby.â
Three weeks later:
You sat on the porch swing, a cold beer in hand as you relaxed after a long week of work. The weather had finally cooled off, and it was pleasant on the porch, a light breeze stirring your hair. You reached for your phone as it rang, smiling as you looked at the screen. âHello,â you said, a smile in your voice.
âHey, there â itâs me, your neighbor.â
âHi, neighbor,â you laughed. âWhatâs up?â
âWell â as it turns out, Iâm completely out of sugar.â
âCompletely, huh?â
âAbsolutely. Totally out. I could really, really use some sugar right now.â His voice was already sending vibrations through you that made you want to tell him to get in the car now. âAnd you know Iâve got a sweet tooth that just wonât quit. I need sugar, sweetheart.â
You laughed as you heard Samâs voice in the background, threatening to throw up if Dean didnât stop. âWell, you know youâre always welcome to come over for sugar if you need it, Dean.â
âI knew I could count on you. Youâre the best neighbor ever. And we can fire up the grill, Iâll make my world-famous burgers, howâs that sound?â
âSounds amazing. And Iâll handle dessert.â
He growled into his phone, making you laugh again. âYeah, you will. Mmmmmm. Iâll be there in half an hour.â
You sighed happily as you hung up, swinging lazily with a smile on your face. Maybe you should put on those Daisy Dukes again.
Without panties, of course.
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Well, I say if you've gotta be hot and sweaty, might as well be hot and sweaty with Dean!! I would stand out in the heat and watch him work on that car for hours until I was well done đ (And I can't blame her for that last little thought đ€đ) Thanks, Alex!! đ„°
The heat wave is making you a little crazy. But when it brings a gorgeous stranger and his overheated car to your front door - well, it's not the only thing that gets overheated.
I blame my bestie, Liz ( @jensensgotyoudean ) for this, so I'm dedicating it to her! đđ„° Dividers from @firefly-graphics â€ïž
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 3487
Warnings: Just hot, sweaty smut! đ
It was utterly miserable outside â 111 degrees, humidity like a sauna, not a cloud anywhere in sight.
You had forced yourself to go out, hook up the sprinkler hose that was nestled throughout the flowers around your house. At least they were in the shade of the building, but they were still wilting and sad. You turned the water on and hoped it would soak in and help them survive this apocalyptic heat.
You could feel the sweat trickle down between your breasts, and you tugged at your tank top with the flimsy built-in bra (the only bra you could fathom wearing in this heat), fanning it out from your body in an attempt to cool yourself down, but it was hopeless. At least you werenât stuck in a city full of concrete. You lived on a little acreage a couple of miles from Smith Center, Kansas, Highway 36 in view from your front yard. At least you had green grass and trees. If they didnât dry up and burst into flames like giant tiki torches from the weather.
You had air conditioning in the house, but you were sick of being cooped up inside. So you let the water soak the flowers and went in to grab a glass of iced tea, then sat down on the porch swing, kicking your flip-flops off. Even your cut-offs and tank top felt stifling on your body, but at least you were getting some fresh air. Super-heated, humid, almost unbreathable fresh air.
You heard the rumble of an engine on the highway, squinting to watch as a large, black car came into view from behind the trees, heading east. As it drew near your driveway, you could see what appeared to be smoke pouring out from under the hood. It made the turn into your drive, sputtering as it made its way close to where your car was parked, then died.
You rose to your feet and slipped your flip-flops back on, glancing down at your clothes. It wasnât like you were dressed for company, but it was too late to worry about it now. You tried to see who was behind the wheel, but the sun glinting off the windshield made that impossible, so you shrugged and went down the steps to greet whoever was driving. When he climbed out of the car, your mouth dropped open, and you stopped in your tracks for a second.
You could have sworn the temperature just rose another 20 degrees. This man was a whole other level of hot. Drool-inducing, panty-melting, fantasy-inspiring hot - tall, lean, bow-legged, broad-shouldered, and gorgeous. As you forced yourself to close your mouth, he swore, talking to the car.
âSon-of-a-bitch! Come on, Baby, weâre almost home.â The frown between his brows (even that was attractive) smoothed out a bit as he saw you approaching (once you recovered your ability to walk). âHey, sorry about that. I guess this heat is too much even for my Baby today.â
âI can see that!â
He turned to raise the hood, steam surrounding him as he propped it in place, and you swore you could hear porn music playing in the background as you stared at his biceps. You stifled a groan at the play of muscle underneath his grey t-shirt, which was rapidly growing darker with sweat in the heat and clinging to his back. âIâd better let her cool off.â
âI can hook up the hose so you can put some water in the radiator after it sits for a bit.â You were sounding far less wilted than you had felt before he got out of that car, that was for sure.
He smiled, and your heart did a somersault in your chest. âThat would be awesome, thanks.â He followed you around to the side of the house, and you shut off the water to your flowers, then reached to unscrew the sprinkler hose. It had apparently welded itself to the spigot â you couldnât get it to budge. You bent over, struggling to force the stubborn coupling to loosen up, but it was hopeless. You turned, frustrated, and your unexpected visitorâs eyes traveled quickly back up to your face as his tongue swept over his lips. âI â uh⊠Here, let me give it a try.â
He stepped forward to deal with the stubborn fitting, and you blushed at your thoughts. Had he been staring at your ass? Speaking of⊠Your eyes were currently glued on his backside as he finally managed to unscrew the sprinkler hose. You shook your head to break the spell and rushed over to grab the regular hose from its storage on the side of the house, handing it to him without meeting his eyes. You had to calm your hormones before you made a total ass of yourself over this guy.
âI have some iced tea in the house â or would you rather have a beer?â
He straightened up after hooking up the hose, turning to grin at you and sending another flood of those pesky hormones flooding into your bloodstream. âA beer sounds great, thanks. And my nameâs Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.â
You smiled back at him as you introduced yourself, then went up the steps and into the house to fetch a couple of cold beers from your fridge. Of course, you stood with your head inside of it for a couple of minutes first, thinking about the way you could feel his eyes following you as you had walked away from him. And you had thought this stay-at-home vacation was going to be boring.
You headed back outside, and Dean walked back towards you from where he had dragged the hose over near his car. You couldnât stop staring at that bow-legged stride, the denim of his jeans hugging those strong thighs, and you dropped down to sit on the steps to mask your agitation. He plopped down beside you, gratefully taking the beer you offered. âThanks - nothing like an ice cold beer when itâs hot as hell out,â he said grinning over at you. You agreed, watching as he tipped his bottle and took a long pull. You followed suit quickly, because otherwise you were going to moan out loud at the sight of his perfect lips on the rim of the bottle, the tip of his tongue touching the opening before he drank. There were several very filthy thoughts battling for space in your head, and you could feel your pulse beating between your thighs.
âSoooo,â you started, a little too loudly, but you quickly caught yourself and adjusted your volume. âI heard you say you were almost home â where are you from?â
âMy brother and I live a couple miles south of Lebanon.â
âI guess weâre almost neighbors, then,â you said, inwardly cringing at your lack of small talk skills.
Dean gave you a crooked smile, nodding his head. âYeah, I guess we are. So if I come knocking at your door to borrow a cup of sugar, you got me covered?â
You smiled. âAny time.â
He picked at the label on his bottle, shooting a sideways glance your way with a sly quirk of his lips. âAs long as your boyfriend isnât the jealous type.â You laughed softly, and he nudged your shoulder with his. âWhat, too subtle?â
âNo boyfriend. Just an ex-husband, but thatâs old news.â You met his green-eyed gaze, which had your breath catching in your chest for a moment. âHow about you?â
âNope, completely free.â A warm smile slowly spread across his face, making your stomach do a little flip. âSo far.â He winked, so quickly that you werenât completely sure you hadnât imagined it, and then drained the rest of his beer and rose to his feet. âLetâs see if I can bring Baby back to life, huh?â
You went to the side of the house and waited for his shout, then turned on the water. You waited for him to call out again to shut it back off, then walked back around the house as he slid behind the wheel. You heard him turn the key with a âCome on, Baby!â and then a âThatâs my girl!â when the engine roared to life. You were trying to stifle your smile when he shut the engine off and climbed back out, but he just grinned back at you before turning around to put the hood down.
He headed back your way, wiping his hands on the tail of his t-shirt. âIf youâre not in a hurry, you could come inside and cool off before you head home, have another beer.â You shrugged as if it was no big deal, but you were holding your breath as you waited for his reply.
âYeah, thanks. Lead the way.â You smiled and turned to go up the steps, Dean right behind you. You both let out a relieved sigh at the cool air in the house compared to the sauna-like atmosphere outside. âDamn, does that feel good,â he said as you kicked off your flip-flops. He bent to untie his boots, but you stopped him.
âYou donât have to do that, really.â He glanced up to see that you were sincere, gave a little nod in acknowledgment, and followed you into the kitchen.
You went to the fridge, grabbed a couple more beers, and handed him one, turning to lean against the island as you opened yours. Dean settled against the counter top across from you, flipping his lid into the trash with perfect aim, then tilting his head back to take several swallows as you lost yourself in the sight.
His t-shirt was stuck to his body, his nipples showing through the damp cotton of his shirt. You stared at his throat as he drank, watching with bated breath as a bead of sweat trickled from his hairline all the way down his neck. He licked his lips as he set his bottle down beside him, his eyes moving from your parted lips to your breasts as they rose and fell with your rapidly increasing breathing. Your heart was beginning to pound, and you took your bottom lip between your teeth for a second before you spoke, your voice breathless. âSo, do you wannaâŠâ
âHell, yeah,â he growled out before you could finish, and then he was on you before you could blink. You reached back blindly, your beer thankfully settling in an upright position as he pinned you against the island and took your lips in a ravenous kiss, all tongues and teeth and hunger. He had both hands on your ass, kneading and squeezing as your fingers clawed at his back, and you could feel him rapidly growing hard as he pressed closer.
He finally broke the kiss, barely parting from you and still nibbling at your lips as he spoke. âIâve got some condoms in my bag in the trunk.â
You shook your head, kissing him again and making him moan as you sucked the tip of his tongue. âDown the hall, nightstand, top drawer,â you managed before he flashed a grin, giving your left cheek one more squeeze before he rushed away to follow your directions.
Dean was back before you finished taking a swallow of your beer. He took the bottle from your hand, turning to set it next to his on the opposite counter top. âMight need some room,â he said as he moved close again, putting his hands on your waist and boosting you up to the top of the island. He slipped his fingers up under the hem of your shirt, looking into your eyes. âCan I?â
You nodded, holding his gaze as he slowly peeled your tank top up, then over your head. He tossed it behind him without taking his eyes from your breasts. âYour turn,â you said softly, giving his shirt a tug, and he pulled it off in one quick move, then moved in close. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him snug between your thighs as you ran your fingertips over his chest, tracing the pattern of his tattoo.
He put a hand on your knee, moving it up slowly until his fingers slipped under the frayed hem of your cutoffs. âI should tell you, these Daisy Dukes have been making me crazy,â he rumbled, making you shiver as he traced a line forward and along the crease of your thigh. He leaned down to kiss you as he worked your zipper open, and you moaned into his mouth as he shoved his hand into your panties, his strong fingers gliding through your slick folds as he hummed against your lips.
âWell, I should tell you Iâve been wet for you since you first climbed out of that car,â you said, your voice raspy with arousal. His lips curved into a sexy smirk, and you leaned back on your elbows to lift up a little as he pulled your shorts and panties down, letting them fall to the floor.
He pulled you back up against his chest, kissing you again as he slipped a finger up inside you, stroking, searching until you squirmed with a little whimper. You felt him smile against your lips, and then he added another finger, rubbing firm circles over your clit with his thumb as he brushed his fingertips repeatedly over your sweet spot.
Dean rested his forehead on yours as you raised you hips to chase his thrusts. It felt amazing, but at the moment there was only one thing you wanted. You clutched desperately at the waistband of his jeans, popping the button free and jerking the zipper down. He grunted as you gave his erection a squeeze, then tugged at his jeans until he pulled his fingers from you, a low chuckle in his throat. âOkay, okay, I get it,â he managed to say as you looked up at him with a coy smile, and he shoved his pants down, your eyes widening a little at the sight of him. He rolled the condom on and moved in close again, rubbing his sheathed cock through your slick pussy.
âDeanâŠ.â you whined softly at the friction on your swollen clit, and he leaned close, whispering in your ear.
âShhhh, sweetheart, I got you.â He reached down, guiding his cock to your entrance and pushing forward as you clutched at the back of his neck. You chased his lips, kissing him desperately as he worked his way inside you with short strokes until he was buried deep, your hips rising to meet him. Every sensitive nerve inside you was singing, your body trembling at being filled to the limit.
You were panting as you pulled back from the kiss, and Dean put a hand to your face, brushing your damp hair back from your forehead, his green eyes warm as he gazed into yours. âYou doing ok?â
You leaned into his touch with a euphoric little smile, then nodded. âIâm good. Really good.â He flashed a quick grin before giving you a gentle kiss, letting his hand drift down to cup your breast. âCould be better,â you mumbled against his lips, giggling as he drew back and looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow, a sparkle in his eyes.
âOh, yeah?â
You reached down to squeeze his ass â his very firm, pert ass â and leaned up to whisper in his ear. âFuck me, Dean.â
He didnât make you wait. He braced one hand on your hip and wrapped an arm around you to hold you close as he began to rut into you, staying deep inside you at first, then pulling out farther and driving back into you faster and harder. Your thighs tightened around him, your hips bucking into his thrusts as your fingers dug into the muscle of his back, his skin slick with sweat. Moans of pleasure and grunts of effort filled the air as you began to clench and pulse around his cock, and you arched your back and cried out as you came undone.
âFuck, sweetheart,â Dean swore softly as he lost control, his cock throbbing inside you as your orgasm sent him over the edge with you. You strained against him, whimpering at the intensity of the sensations washing through you, finally slumping with your face against his chest, a shudder making you clench around his still-pulsing length. He leaned forward, slightly trembling, holding you tight with one arm as he braced a hand on the counter, his chest heaving beneath your cheek as he slowly came down from his high.
He rested his head on top of yours, his warm breath stirring your hair. âYouâre fucking incredible,â he breathed, raising back up as you moved to look up at him.
âPretty incredible yourself,â you responded with a languid smile. âI havenât felt this good in â well, ever.â His eyes searched yours as he bent close to kiss you, sending a wave of warmth through you.
âYou know, I could kiss you for hours. Possibly days.â
He laughed softly, his fingers trailing along your jaw. âWell, maybe weâll work on that. But I should probably take care ofâŠâ He glanced down pointedly at where you were still joined, and you smiled.
âOh â yeah â I guess so.â You held your breath as he pulled himself free, then put his hands on your waist and helped you down off the island. He smiled down at you, his eyes scanning over your body with a naughty smirk as he let out a soft âMmm-mmm.â
âIâll be back,â he said, hitching his pants up, and you stared as he walked away from you, heading to the bathroom. You collapsed back against the counter, blowing out a breath in aroused appreciation. You had just had sex with a complete stranger who was hot enough to fuel your fantasies for many, many years into the future â and you were pretty sure you werenât finished with him yet. In fact, you were sure of it. So you stood up straight and headed for the bathroom, in all your naked glory, with a big smile on your face.
When he opened the door, you were standing there waiting. His eyes widened a little, his smile slowly growing as you peered up at him with a flirty expression. âI need a shower. And youâre welcome to join.â You pushed your way by him, letting your breasts brush against his arm on the way by, grinning to yourself as you heard him chuckle.
You reached in and turned on the water to let it warm up, and Dean watched you with appreciation, pulling his lip between his teeth. âI â uh â have some clean clothes out in the car. Iâll be right back.â
You shot him a sidelong glance with a smile as you stepped into the shower, sliding the glass door shut behind you. He let out a low whistle before he rushed to the front door, heading for the car to get his duffle bag and pulling out his phone to call his brother. âSammy? Yeah, had a little car trouble, I wonât be home until tomorrow sometime. Nah, nothing serious. Yep, later.â
Sometime tomorrow. Next day at the latest. He smirked to himself as he closed the trunk, patting the Impalaâs roof on the way by as he headed back to the house. âI owe you, Baby.â
Three weeks later:
You sat on the porch swing, a cold beer in hand as you relaxed after a long week of work. The weather had finally cooled off, and it was pleasant on the porch, a light breeze stirring your hair. You reached for your phone as it rang, smiling as you looked at the screen. âHello,â you said, a smile in your voice.
âHey, there â itâs me, your neighbor.â
âHi, neighbor,â you laughed. âWhatâs up?â
âWell â as it turns out, Iâm completely out of sugar.â
âCompletely, huh?â
âAbsolutely. Totally out. I could really, really use some sugar right now.â His voice was already sending vibrations through you that made you want to tell him to get in the car now. âAnd you know Iâve got a sweet tooth that just wonât quit. I need sugar, sweetheart.â
You laughed as you heard Samâs voice in the background, threatening to throw up if Dean didnât stop. âWell, you know youâre always welcome to come over for sugar if you need it, Dean.â
âI knew I could count on you. Youâre the best neighbor ever. And we can fire up the grill, Iâll make my world-famous burgers, howâs that sound?â
âSounds amazing. And Iâll handle dessert.â
He growled into his phone, making you laugh again. âYeah, you will. Mmmmmm. Iâll be there in half an hour.â
You sighed happily as you hung up, swinging lazily with a smile on your face. Maybe you should put on those Daisy Dukes again.
Without panties, of course.
Tag List #1:
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Finding a new fic from you on my dash continues to feel like Christmas morning!
Whoo-whee, was this hot. Spending a heat wave with that man is probably the only thing that could turn me into a summer person. xD
You were panting as you pulled back from the kiss, and Dean put a hand to your face, brushing your damp hair back from your forehead, his green eyes warm as he gazed into yours. âYou doing ok?â
This warmed my heart so much.
And the little bonus of "Three weeks later" was so fun!
The heat wave is making you a little crazy. But when it brings a gorgeous stranger and his overheated car to your front door - well, it's not the only thing that gets overheated.
I blame my bestie, Liz ( @jensensgotyoudean ) for this, so I'm dedicating it to her! đđ„° Dividers from @firefly-graphics â€ïž
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 3487
Warnings: Just hot, sweaty smut! đ
It was utterly miserable outside â 111 degrees, humidity like a sauna, not a cloud anywhere in sight.
You had forced yourself to go out, hook up the sprinkler hose that was nestled throughout the flowers around your house. At least they were in the shade of the building, but they were still wilting and sad. You turned the water on and hoped it would soak in and help them survive this apocalyptic heat.
You could feel the sweat trickle down between your breasts, and you tugged at your tank top with the flimsy built-in bra (the only bra you could fathom wearing in this heat), fanning it out from your body in an attempt to cool yourself down, but it was hopeless. At least you werenât stuck in a city full of concrete. You lived on a little acreage a couple of miles from Smith Center, Kansas, Highway 36 in view from your front yard. At least you had green grass and trees. If they didnât dry up and burst into flames like giant tiki torches from the weather.
You had air conditioning in the house, but you were sick of being cooped up inside. So you let the water soak the flowers and went in to grab a glass of iced tea, then sat down on the porch swing, kicking your flip-flops off. Even your cut-offs and tank top felt stifling on your body, but at least you were getting some fresh air. Super-heated, humid, almost unbreathable fresh air.
You heard the rumble of an engine on the highway, squinting to watch as a large, black car came into view from behind the trees, heading east. As it drew near your driveway, you could see what appeared to be smoke pouring out from under the hood. It made the turn into your drive, sputtering as it made its way close to where your car was parked, then died.
You rose to your feet and slipped your flip-flops back on, glancing down at your clothes. It wasnât like you were dressed for company, but it was too late to worry about it now. You tried to see who was behind the wheel, but the sun glinting off the windshield made that impossible, so you shrugged and went down the steps to greet whoever was driving. When he climbed out of the car, your mouth dropped open, and you stopped in your tracks for a second.
You could have sworn the temperature just rose another 20 degrees. This man was a whole other level of hot. Drool-inducing, panty-melting, fantasy-inspiring hot - tall, lean, bow-legged, broad-shouldered, and gorgeous. As you forced yourself to close your mouth, he swore, talking to the car.
âSon-of-a-bitch! Come on, Baby, weâre almost home.â The frown between his brows (even that was attractive) smoothed out a bit as he saw you approaching (once you recovered your ability to walk). âHey, sorry about that. I guess this heat is too much even for my Baby today.â
âI can see that!â
He turned to raise the hood, steam surrounding him as he propped it in place, and you swore you could hear porn music playing in the background as you stared at his biceps. You stifled a groan at the play of muscle underneath his grey t-shirt, which was rapidly growing darker with sweat in the heat and clinging to his back. âIâd better let her cool off.â
âI can hook up the hose so you can put some water in the radiator after it sits for a bit.â You were sounding far less wilted than you had felt before he got out of that car, that was for sure.
He smiled, and your heart did a somersault in your chest. âThat would be awesome, thanks.â He followed you around to the side of the house, and you shut off the water to your flowers, then reached to unscrew the sprinkler hose. It had apparently welded itself to the spigot â you couldnât get it to budge. You bent over, struggling to force the stubborn coupling to loosen up, but it was hopeless. You turned, frustrated, and your unexpected visitorâs eyes traveled quickly back up to your face as his tongue swept over his lips. âI â uh⊠Here, let me give it a try.â
He stepped forward to deal with the stubborn fitting, and you blushed at your thoughts. Had he been staring at your ass? Speaking of⊠Your eyes were currently glued on his backside as he finally managed to unscrew the sprinkler hose. You shook your head to break the spell and rushed over to grab the regular hose from its storage on the side of the house, handing it to him without meeting his eyes. You had to calm your hormones before you made a total ass of yourself over this guy.
âI have some iced tea in the house â or would you rather have a beer?â
He straightened up after hooking up the hose, turning to grin at you and sending another flood of those pesky hormones flooding into your bloodstream. âA beer sounds great, thanks. And my nameâs Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.â
You smiled back at him as you introduced yourself, then went up the steps and into the house to fetch a couple of cold beers from your fridge. Of course, you stood with your head inside of it for a couple of minutes first, thinking about the way you could feel his eyes following you as you had walked away from him. And you had thought this stay-at-home vacation was going to be boring.
You headed back outside, and Dean walked back towards you from where he had dragged the hose over near his car. You couldnât stop staring at that bow-legged stride, the denim of his jeans hugging those strong thighs, and you dropped down to sit on the steps to mask your agitation. He plopped down beside you, gratefully taking the beer you offered. âThanks - nothing like an ice cold beer when itâs hot as hell out,â he said grinning over at you. You agreed, watching as he tipped his bottle and took a long pull. You followed suit quickly, because otherwise you were going to moan out loud at the sight of his perfect lips on the rim of the bottle, the tip of his tongue touching the opening before he drank. There were several very filthy thoughts battling for space in your head, and you could feel your pulse beating between your thighs.
âSoooo,â you started, a little too loudly, but you quickly caught yourself and adjusted your volume. âI heard you say you were almost home â where are you from?â
âMy brother and I live a couple miles south of Lebanon.â
âI guess weâre almost neighbors, then,â you said, inwardly cringing at your lack of small talk skills.
Dean gave you a crooked smile, nodding his head. âYeah, I guess we are. So if I come knocking at your door to borrow a cup of sugar, you got me covered?â
You smiled. âAny time.â
He picked at the label on his bottle, shooting a sideways glance your way with a sly quirk of his lips. âAs long as your boyfriend isnât the jealous type.â You laughed softly, and he nudged your shoulder with his. âWhat, too subtle?â
âNo boyfriend. Just an ex-husband, but thatâs old news.â You met his green-eyed gaze, which had your breath catching in your chest for a moment. âHow about you?â
âNope, completely free.â A warm smile slowly spread across his face, making your stomach do a little flip. âSo far.â He winked, so quickly that you werenât completely sure you hadnât imagined it, and then drained the rest of his beer and rose to his feet. âLetâs see if I can bring Baby back to life, huh?â
You went to the side of the house and waited for his shout, then turned on the water. You waited for him to call out again to shut it back off, then walked back around the house as he slid behind the wheel. You heard him turn the key with a âCome on, Baby!â and then a âThatâs my girl!â when the engine roared to life. You were trying to stifle your smile when he shut the engine off and climbed back out, but he just grinned back at you before turning around to put the hood down.
He headed back your way, wiping his hands on the tail of his t-shirt. âIf youâre not in a hurry, you could come inside and cool off before you head home, have another beer.â You shrugged as if it was no big deal, but you were holding your breath as you waited for his reply.
âYeah, thanks. Lead the way.â You smiled and turned to go up the steps, Dean right behind you. You both let out a relieved sigh at the cool air in the house compared to the sauna-like atmosphere outside. âDamn, does that feel good,â he said as you kicked off your flip-flops. He bent to untie his boots, but you stopped him.
âYou donât have to do that, really.â He glanced up to see that you were sincere, gave a little nod in acknowledgment, and followed you into the kitchen.
You went to the fridge, grabbed a couple more beers, and handed him one, turning to lean against the island as you opened yours. Dean settled against the counter top across from you, flipping his lid into the trash with perfect aim, then tilting his head back to take several swallows as you lost yourself in the sight.
His t-shirt was stuck to his body, his nipples showing through the damp cotton of his shirt. You stared at his throat as he drank, watching with bated breath as a bead of sweat trickled from his hairline all the way down his neck. He licked his lips as he set his bottle down beside him, his eyes moving from your parted lips to your breasts as they rose and fell with your rapidly increasing breathing. Your heart was beginning to pound, and you took your bottom lip between your teeth for a second before you spoke, your voice breathless. âSo, do you wannaâŠâ
âHell, yeah,â he growled out before you could finish, and then he was on you before you could blink. You reached back blindly, your beer thankfully settling in an upright position as he pinned you against the island and took your lips in a ravenous kiss, all tongues and teeth and hunger. He had both hands on your ass, kneading and squeezing as your fingers clawed at his back, and you could feel him rapidly growing hard as he pressed closer.
He finally broke the kiss, barely parting from you and still nibbling at your lips as he spoke. âIâve got some condoms in my bag in the trunk.â
You shook your head, kissing him again and making him moan as you sucked the tip of his tongue. âDown the hall, nightstand, top drawer,â you managed before he flashed a grin, giving your left cheek one more squeeze before he rushed away to follow your directions.
Dean was back before you finished taking a swallow of your beer. He took the bottle from your hand, turning to set it next to his on the opposite counter top. âMight need some room,â he said as he moved close again, putting his hands on your waist and boosting you up to the top of the island. He slipped his fingers up under the hem of your shirt, looking into your eyes. âCan I?â
You nodded, holding his gaze as he slowly peeled your tank top up, then over your head. He tossed it behind him without taking his eyes from your breasts. âYour turn,â you said softly, giving his shirt a tug, and he pulled it off in one quick move, then moved in close. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him snug between your thighs as you ran your fingertips over his chest, tracing the pattern of his tattoo.
He put a hand on your knee, moving it up slowly until his fingers slipped under the frayed hem of your cutoffs. âI should tell you, these Daisy Dukes have been making me crazy,â he rumbled, making you shiver as he traced a line forward and along the crease of your thigh. He leaned down to kiss you as he worked your zipper open, and you moaned into his mouth as he shoved his hand into your panties, his strong fingers gliding through your slick folds as he hummed against your lips.
âWell, I should tell you Iâve been wet for you since you first climbed out of that car,â you said, your voice raspy with arousal. His lips curved into a sexy smirk, and you leaned back on your elbows to lift up a little as he pulled your shorts and panties down, letting them fall to the floor.
He pulled you back up against his chest, kissing you again as he slipped a finger up inside you, stroking, searching until you squirmed with a little whimper. You felt him smile against your lips, and then he added another finger, rubbing firm circles over your clit with his thumb as he brushed his fingertips repeatedly over your sweet spot.
Dean rested his forehead on yours as you raised you hips to chase his thrusts. It felt amazing, but at the moment there was only one thing you wanted. You clutched desperately at the waistband of his jeans, popping the button free and jerking the zipper down. He grunted as you gave his erection a squeeze, then tugged at his jeans until he pulled his fingers from you, a low chuckle in his throat. âOkay, okay, I get it,â he managed to say as you looked up at him with a coy smile, and he shoved his pants down, your eyes widening a little at the sight of him. He rolled the condom on and moved in close again, rubbing his sheathed cock through your slick pussy.
âDeanâŠ.â you whined softly at the friction on your swollen clit, and he leaned close, whispering in your ear.
âShhhh, sweetheart, I got you.â He reached down, guiding his cock to your entrance and pushing forward as you clutched at the back of his neck. You chased his lips, kissing him desperately as he worked his way inside you with short strokes until he was buried deep, your hips rising to meet him. Every sensitive nerve inside you was singing, your body trembling at being filled to the limit.
You were panting as you pulled back from the kiss, and Dean put a hand to your face, brushing your damp hair back from your forehead, his green eyes warm as he gazed into yours. âYou doing ok?â
You leaned into his touch with a euphoric little smile, then nodded. âIâm good. Really good.â He flashed a quick grin before giving you a gentle kiss, letting his hand drift down to cup your breast. âCould be better,â you mumbled against his lips, giggling as he drew back and looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow, a sparkle in his eyes.
âOh, yeah?â
You reached down to squeeze his ass â his very firm, pert ass â and leaned up to whisper in his ear. âFuck me, Dean.â
He didnât make you wait. He braced one hand on your hip and wrapped an arm around you to hold you close as he began to rut into you, staying deep inside you at first, then pulling out farther and driving back into you faster and harder. Your thighs tightened around him, your hips bucking into his thrusts as your fingers dug into the muscle of his back, his skin slick with sweat. Moans of pleasure and grunts of effort filled the air as you began to clench and pulse around his cock, and you arched your back and cried out as you came undone.
âFuck, sweetheart,â Dean swore softly as he lost control, his cock throbbing inside you as your orgasm sent him over the edge with you. You strained against him, whimpering at the intensity of the sensations washing through you, finally slumping with your face against his chest, a shudder making you clench around his still-pulsing length. He leaned forward, slightly trembling, holding you tight with one arm as he braced a hand on the counter, his chest heaving beneath your cheek as he slowly came down from his high.
He rested his head on top of yours, his warm breath stirring your hair. âYouâre fucking incredible,â he breathed, raising back up as you moved to look up at him.
âPretty incredible yourself,â you responded with a languid smile. âI havenât felt this good in â well, ever.â His eyes searched yours as he bent close to kiss you, sending a wave of warmth through you.
âYou know, I could kiss you for hours. Possibly days.â
He laughed softly, his fingers trailing along your jaw. âWell, maybe weâll work on that. But I should probably take care ofâŠâ He glanced down pointedly at where you were still joined, and you smiled.
âOh â yeah â I guess so.â You held your breath as he pulled himself free, then put his hands on your waist and helped you down off the island. He smiled down at you, his eyes scanning over your body with a naughty smirk as he let out a soft âMmm-mmm.â
âIâll be back,â he said, hitching his pants up, and you stared as he walked away from you, heading to the bathroom. You collapsed back against the counter, blowing out a breath in aroused appreciation. You had just had sex with a complete stranger who was hot enough to fuel your fantasies for many, many years into the future â and you were pretty sure you werenât finished with him yet. In fact, you were sure of it. So you stood up straight and headed for the bathroom, in all your naked glory, with a big smile on your face.
When he opened the door, you were standing there waiting. His eyes widened a little, his smile slowly growing as you peered up at him with a flirty expression. âI need a shower. And youâre welcome to join.â You pushed your way by him, letting your breasts brush against his arm on the way by, grinning to yourself as you heard him chuckle.
You reached in and turned on the water to let it warm up, and Dean watched you with appreciation, pulling his lip between his teeth. âI â uh â have some clean clothes out in the car. Iâll be right back.â
You shot him a sidelong glance with a smile as you stepped into the shower, sliding the glass door shut behind you. He let out a low whistle before he rushed to the front door, heading for the car to get his duffle bag and pulling out his phone to call his brother. âSammy? Yeah, had a little car trouble, I wonât be home until tomorrow sometime. Nah, nothing serious. Yep, later.â
Sometime tomorrow. Next day at the latest. He smirked to himself as he closed the trunk, patting the Impalaâs roof on the way by as he headed back to the house. âI owe you, Baby.â
Three weeks later:
You sat on the porch swing, a cold beer in hand as you relaxed after a long week of work. The weather had finally cooled off, and it was pleasant on the porch, a light breeze stirring your hair. You reached for your phone as it rang, smiling as you looked at the screen. âHello,â you said, a smile in your voice.
âHey, there â itâs me, your neighbor.â
âHi, neighbor,â you laughed. âWhatâs up?â
âWell â as it turns out, Iâm completely out of sugar.â
âCompletely, huh?â
âAbsolutely. Totally out. I could really, really use some sugar right now.â His voice was already sending vibrations through you that made you want to tell him to get in the car now. âAnd you know Iâve got a sweet tooth that just wonât quit. I need sugar, sweetheart.â
You laughed as you heard Samâs voice in the background, threatening to throw up if Dean didnât stop. âWell, you know youâre always welcome to come over for sugar if you need it, Dean.â
âI knew I could count on you. Youâre the best neighbor ever. And we can fire up the grill, Iâll make my world-famous burgers, howâs that sound?â
âSounds amazing. And Iâll handle dessert.â
He growled into his phone, making you laugh again. âYeah, you will. Mmmmmm. Iâll be there in half an hour.â
You sighed happily as you hung up, swinging lazily with a smile on your face. Maybe you should put on those Daisy Dukes again.
Without panties, of course.
Tag List #1:
 @saenalife   @deanscarlett   @jensensgotyoudean   @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis   @deansdirtylittlesecretsblogÂ
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  @undecided-garden   @ceeceewinchester   @typicalweirdbookworm      @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit   @youtoldalieÂ
  @tanithlowisabamf-blog   @deandoesthingstome   @jxackles   @nerdwholikesword   @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic Â
  @kreweofimp  @gabavaldman   @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog   @darkx143   @disassociativedogma Â
The heat wave is making you a little crazy. But when it brings a gorgeous stranger and his overheated car to your front door - well, it's not the only thing that gets overheated.
I blame my bestie, Liz ( @jensensgotyoudean ) for this, so I'm dedicating it to her! đđ„° Dividers from @firefly-graphics â€ïž
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 3487
Warnings: Just hot, sweaty smut! đ
It was utterly miserable outside â 111 degrees, humidity like a sauna, not a cloud anywhere in sight.
You had forced yourself to go out, hook up the sprinkler hose that was nestled throughout the flowers around your house. At least they were in the shade of the building, but they were still wilting and sad. You turned the water on and hoped it would soak in and help them survive this apocalyptic heat.
You could feel the sweat trickle down between your breasts, and you tugged at your tank top with the flimsy built-in bra (the only bra you could fathom wearing in this heat), fanning it out from your body in an attempt to cool yourself down, but it was hopeless. At least you werenât stuck in a city full of concrete. You lived on a little acreage a couple of miles from Smith Center, Kansas, Highway 36 in view from your front yard. At least you had green grass and trees. If they didnât dry up and burst into flames like giant tiki torches from the weather.
You had air conditioning in the house, but you were sick of being cooped up inside. So you let the water soak the flowers and went in to grab a glass of iced tea, then sat down on the porch swing, kicking your flip-flops off. Even your cut-offs and tank top felt stifling on your body, but at least you were getting some fresh air. Super-heated, humid, almost unbreathable fresh air.
You heard the rumble of an engine on the highway, squinting to watch as a large, black car came into view from behind the trees, heading east. As it drew near your driveway, you could see what appeared to be smoke pouring out from under the hood. It made the turn into your drive, sputtering as it made its way close to where your car was parked, then died.
You rose to your feet and slipped your flip-flops back on, glancing down at your clothes. It wasnât like you were dressed for company, but it was too late to worry about it now. You tried to see who was behind the wheel, but the sun glinting off the windshield made that impossible, so you shrugged and went down the steps to greet whoever was driving. When he climbed out of the car, your mouth dropped open, and you stopped in your tracks for a second.
You could have sworn the temperature just rose another 20 degrees. This man was a whole other level of hot. Drool-inducing, panty-melting, fantasy-inspiring hot - tall, lean, bow-legged, broad-shouldered, and gorgeous. As you forced yourself to close your mouth, he swore, talking to the car.
âSon-of-a-bitch! Come on, Baby, weâre almost home.â The frown between his brows (even that was attractive) smoothed out a bit as he saw you approaching (once you recovered your ability to walk). âHey, sorry about that. I guess this heat is too much even for my Baby today.â
âI can see that!â
He turned to raise the hood, steam surrounding him as he propped it in place, and you swore you could hear porn music playing in the background as you stared at his biceps. You stifled a groan at the play of muscle underneath his grey t-shirt, which was rapidly growing darker with sweat in the heat and clinging to his back. âIâd better let her cool off.â
âI can hook up the hose so you can put some water in the radiator after it sits for a bit.â You were sounding far less wilted than you had felt before he got out of that car, that was for sure.
He smiled, and your heart did a somersault in your chest. âThat would be awesome, thanks.â He followed you around to the side of the house, and you shut off the water to your flowers, then reached to unscrew the sprinkler hose. It had apparently welded itself to the spigot â you couldnât get it to budge. You bent over, struggling to force the stubborn coupling to loosen up, but it was hopeless. You turned, frustrated, and your unexpected visitorâs eyes traveled quickly back up to your face as his tongue swept over his lips. âI â uh⊠Here, let me give it a try.â
He stepped forward to deal with the stubborn fitting, and you blushed at your thoughts. Had he been staring at your ass? Speaking of⊠Your eyes were currently glued on his backside as he finally managed to unscrew the sprinkler hose. You shook your head to break the spell and rushed over to grab the regular hose from its storage on the side of the house, handing it to him without meeting his eyes. You had to calm your hormones before you made a total ass of yourself over this guy.
âI have some iced tea in the house â or would you rather have a beer?â
He straightened up after hooking up the hose, turning to grin at you and sending another flood of those pesky hormones flooding into your bloodstream. âA beer sounds great, thanks. And my nameâs Dean, by the way. Dean Winchester.â
You smiled back at him as you introduced yourself, then went up the steps and into the house to fetch a couple of cold beers from your fridge. Of course, you stood with your head inside of it for a couple of minutes first, thinking about the way you could feel his eyes following you as you had walked away from him. And you had thought this stay-at-home vacation was going to be boring.
You headed back outside, and Dean walked back towards you from where he had dragged the hose over near his car. You couldnât stop staring at that bow-legged stride, the denim of his jeans hugging those strong thighs, and you dropped down to sit on the steps to mask your agitation. He plopped down beside you, gratefully taking the beer you offered. âThanks - nothing like an ice cold beer when itâs hot as hell out,â he said grinning over at you. You agreed, watching as he tipped his bottle and took a long pull. You followed suit quickly, because otherwise you were going to moan out loud at the sight of his perfect lips on the rim of the bottle, the tip of his tongue touching the opening before he drank. There were several very filthy thoughts battling for space in your head, and you could feel your pulse beating between your thighs.
âSoooo,â you started, a little too loudly, but you quickly caught yourself and adjusted your volume. âI heard you say you were almost home â where are you from?â
âMy brother and I live a couple miles south of Lebanon.â
âI guess weâre almost neighbors, then,â you said, inwardly cringing at your lack of small talk skills.
Dean gave you a crooked smile, nodding his head. âYeah, I guess we are. So if I come knocking at your door to borrow a cup of sugar, you got me covered?â
You smiled. âAny time.â
He picked at the label on his bottle, shooting a sideways glance your way with a sly quirk of his lips. âAs long as your boyfriend isnât the jealous type.â You laughed softly, and he nudged your shoulder with his. âWhat, too subtle?â
âNo boyfriend. Just an ex-husband, but thatâs old news.â You met his green-eyed gaze, which had your breath catching in your chest for a moment. âHow about you?â
âNope, completely free.â A warm smile slowly spread across his face, making your stomach do a little flip. âSo far.â He winked, so quickly that you werenât completely sure you hadnât imagined it, and then drained the rest of his beer and rose to his feet. âLetâs see if I can bring Baby back to life, huh?â
You went to the side of the house and waited for his shout, then turned on the water. You waited for him to call out again to shut it back off, then walked back around the house as he slid behind the wheel. You heard him turn the key with a âCome on, Baby!â and then a âThatâs my girl!â when the engine roared to life. You were trying to stifle your smile when he shut the engine off and climbed back out, but he just grinned back at you before turning around to put the hood down.
He headed back your way, wiping his hands on the tail of his t-shirt. âIf youâre not in a hurry, you could come inside and cool off before you head home, have another beer.â You shrugged as if it was no big deal, but you were holding your breath as you waited for his reply.
âYeah, thanks. Lead the way.â You smiled and turned to go up the steps, Dean right behind you. You both let out a relieved sigh at the cool air in the house compared to the sauna-like atmosphere outside. âDamn, does that feel good,â he said as you kicked off your flip-flops. He bent to untie his boots, but you stopped him.
âYou donât have to do that, really.â He glanced up to see that you were sincere, gave a little nod in acknowledgment, and followed you into the kitchen.
You went to the fridge, grabbed a couple more beers, and handed him one, turning to lean against the island as you opened yours. Dean settled against the counter top across from you, flipping his lid into the trash with perfect aim, then tilting his head back to take several swallows as you lost yourself in the sight.
His t-shirt was stuck to his body, his nipples showing through the damp cotton of his shirt. You stared at his throat as he drank, watching with bated breath as a bead of sweat trickled from his hairline all the way down his neck. He licked his lips as he set his bottle down beside him, his eyes moving from your parted lips to your breasts as they rose and fell with your rapidly increasing breathing. Your heart was beginning to pound, and you took your bottom lip between your teeth for a second before you spoke, your voice breathless. âSo, do you wannaâŠâ
âHell, yeah,â he growled out before you could finish, and then he was on you before you could blink. You reached back blindly, your beer thankfully settling in an upright position as he pinned you against the island and took your lips in a ravenous kiss, all tongues and teeth and hunger. He had both hands on your ass, kneading and squeezing as your fingers clawed at his back, and you could feel him rapidly growing hard as he pressed closer.
He finally broke the kiss, barely parting from you and still nibbling at your lips as he spoke. âIâve got some condoms in my bag in the trunk.â
You shook your head, kissing him again and making him moan as you sucked the tip of his tongue. âDown the hall, nightstand, top drawer,â you managed before he flashed a grin, giving your left cheek one more squeeze before he rushed away to follow your directions.
Dean was back before you finished taking a swallow of your beer. He took the bottle from your hand, turning to set it next to his on the opposite counter top. âMight need some room,â he said as he moved close again, putting his hands on your waist and boosting you up to the top of the island. He slipped his fingers up under the hem of your shirt, looking into your eyes. âCan I?â
You nodded, holding his gaze as he slowly peeled your tank top up, then over your head. He tossed it behind him without taking his eyes from your breasts. âYour turn,â you said softly, giving his shirt a tug, and he pulled it off in one quick move, then moved in close. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him snug between your thighs as you ran your fingertips over his chest, tracing the pattern of his tattoo.
He put a hand on your knee, moving it up slowly until his fingers slipped under the frayed hem of your cutoffs. âI should tell you, these Daisy Dukes have been making me crazy,â he rumbled, making you shiver as he traced a line forward and along the crease of your thigh. He leaned down to kiss you as he worked your zipper open, and you moaned into his mouth as he shoved his hand into your panties, his strong fingers gliding through your slick folds as he hummed against your lips.
âWell, I should tell you Iâve been wet for you since you first climbed out of that car,â you said, your voice raspy with arousal. His lips curved into a sexy smirk, and you leaned back on your elbows to lift up a little as he pulled your shorts and panties down, letting them fall to the floor.
He pulled you back up against his chest, kissing you again as he slipped a finger up inside you, stroking, searching until you squirmed with a little whimper. You felt him smile against your lips, and then he added another finger, rubbing firm circles over your clit with his thumb as he brushed his fingertips repeatedly over your sweet spot.
Dean rested his forehead on yours as you raised you hips to chase his thrusts. It felt amazing, but at the moment there was only one thing you wanted. You clutched desperately at the waistband of his jeans, popping the button free and jerking the zipper down. He grunted as you gave his erection a squeeze, then tugged at his jeans until he pulled his fingers from you, a low chuckle in his throat. âOkay, okay, I get it,â he managed to say as you looked up at him with a coy smile, and he shoved his pants down, your eyes widening a little at the sight of him. He rolled the condom on and moved in close again, rubbing his sheathed cock through your slick pussy.
âDeanâŠ.â you whined softly at the friction on your swollen clit, and he leaned close, whispering in your ear.
âShhhh, sweetheart, I got you.â He reached down, guiding his cock to your entrance and pushing forward as you clutched at the back of his neck. You chased his lips, kissing him desperately as he worked his way inside you with short strokes until he was buried deep, your hips rising to meet him. Every sensitive nerve inside you was singing, your body trembling at being filled to the limit.
You were panting as you pulled back from the kiss, and Dean put a hand to your face, brushing your damp hair back from your forehead, his green eyes warm as he gazed into yours. âYou doing ok?â
You leaned into his touch with a euphoric little smile, then nodded. âIâm good. Really good.â He flashed a quick grin before giving you a gentle kiss, letting his hand drift down to cup your breast. âCould be better,â you mumbled against his lips, giggling as he drew back and looked down at you with a cocked eyebrow, a sparkle in his eyes.
âOh, yeah?â
You reached down to squeeze his ass â his very firm, pert ass â and leaned up to whisper in his ear. âFuck me, Dean.â
He didnât make you wait. He braced one hand on your hip and wrapped an arm around you to hold you close as he began to rut into you, staying deep inside you at first, then pulling out farther and driving back into you faster and harder. Your thighs tightened around him, your hips bucking into his thrusts as your fingers dug into the muscle of his back, his skin slick with sweat. Moans of pleasure and grunts of effort filled the air as you began to clench and pulse around his cock, and you arched your back and cried out as you came undone.
âFuck, sweetheart,â Dean swore softly as he lost control, his cock throbbing inside you as your orgasm sent him over the edge with you. You strained against him, whimpering at the intensity of the sensations washing through you, finally slumping with your face against his chest, a shudder making you clench around his still-pulsing length. He leaned forward, slightly trembling, holding you tight with one arm as he braced a hand on the counter, his chest heaving beneath your cheek as he slowly came down from his high.
He rested his head on top of yours, his warm breath stirring your hair. âYouâre fucking incredible,â he breathed, raising back up as you moved to look up at him.
âPretty incredible yourself,â you responded with a languid smile. âI havenât felt this good in â well, ever.â His eyes searched yours as he bent close to kiss you, sending a wave of warmth through you.
âYou know, I could kiss you for hours. Possibly days.â
He laughed softly, his fingers trailing along your jaw. âWell, maybe weâll work on that. But I should probably take care ofâŠâ He glanced down pointedly at where you were still joined, and you smiled.
âOh â yeah â I guess so.â You held your breath as he pulled himself free, then put his hands on your waist and helped you down off the island. He smiled down at you, his eyes scanning over your body with a naughty smirk as he let out a soft âMmm-mmm.â
âIâll be back,â he said, hitching his pants up, and you stared as he walked away from you, heading to the bathroom. You collapsed back against the counter, blowing out a breath in aroused appreciation. You had just had sex with a complete stranger who was hot enough to fuel your fantasies for many, many years into the future â and you were pretty sure you werenât finished with him yet. In fact, you were sure of it. So you stood up straight and headed for the bathroom, in all your naked glory, with a big smile on your face.
When he opened the door, you were standing there waiting. His eyes widened a little, his smile slowly growing as you peered up at him with a flirty expression. âI need a shower. And youâre welcome to join.â You pushed your way by him, letting your breasts brush against his arm on the way by, grinning to yourself as you heard him chuckle.
You reached in and turned on the water to let it warm up, and Dean watched you with appreciation, pulling his lip between his teeth. âI â uh â have some clean clothes out in the car. Iâll be right back.â
You shot him a sidelong glance with a smile as you stepped into the shower, sliding the glass door shut behind you. He let out a low whistle before he rushed to the front door, heading for the car to get his duffle bag and pulling out his phone to call his brother. âSammy? Yeah, had a little car trouble, I wonât be home until tomorrow sometime. Nah, nothing serious. Yep, later.â
Sometime tomorrow. Next day at the latest. He smirked to himself as he closed the trunk, patting the Impalaâs roof on the way by as he headed back to the house. âI owe you, Baby.â
Three weeks later:
You sat on the porch swing, a cold beer in hand as you relaxed after a long week of work. The weather had finally cooled off, and it was pleasant on the porch, a light breeze stirring your hair. You reached for your phone as it rang, smiling as you looked at the screen. âHello,â you said, a smile in your voice.
âHey, there â itâs me, your neighbor.â
âHi, neighbor,â you laughed. âWhatâs up?â
âWell â as it turns out, Iâm completely out of sugar.â
âCompletely, huh?â
âAbsolutely. Totally out. I could really, really use some sugar right now.â His voice was already sending vibrations through you that made you want to tell him to get in the car now. âAnd you know Iâve got a sweet tooth that just wonât quit. I need sugar, sweetheart.â
You laughed as you heard Samâs voice in the background, threatening to throw up if Dean didnât stop. âWell, you know youâre always welcome to come over for sugar if you need it, Dean.â
âI knew I could count on you. Youâre the best neighbor ever. And we can fire up the grill, Iâll make my world-famous burgers, howâs that sound?â
âSounds amazing. And Iâll handle dessert.â
He growled into his phone, making you laugh again. âYeah, you will. Mmmmmm. Iâll be there in half an hour.â
You sighed happily as you hung up, swinging lazily with a smile on your face. Maybe you should put on those Daisy Dukes again.
Without panties, of course.
Tag List #1:
 @saenalife   @deanscarlett   @jensensgotyoudean   @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis   @deansdirtylittlesecretsblogÂ
  @geeklibrarian   @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid     @mrswhozeewhatsis   @littlegreenplasticsoldier   @sleep-silent-angel Â
  @darcia22   @winchesterprincessbride   @ellen-reincarnated1967      @deanslittleangel2y5  @deanwinchesterswitch
  @melanie451     @spectaculacular-sammy   @bookchic20   @jodyri   @selma-jean-blog  Â
    @savingapplepie-eatingthings   @kittenofdoomage   @masked-maiden42   @lean-mean-deanwinchester   @ericuhlorain Â
  @undecided-garden   @ceeceewinchester   @typicalweirdbookworm      @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit   @youtoldalieÂ
  @tanithlowisabamf-blog   @deandoesthingstome   @jxackles   @nerdwholikesword   @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic Â
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Summary: Dean attends your daughterâs playâand meets your ex-boyfriend for the first time. The only real commitment Dean Winchester has ever had is to his work. Is he really a man you can rely on?
AN: We had some office spice. Ready for some fluff and family feels?
Posted on Patreon: June 26, 2026 | Word Count: 2.5K
Tags & Warnings: Single mother!reader, ft. a deadbeat dad, jealousy, fluff and feels
Series Masterlist †Dean Winchester Masterlist
Dean finds a guest spot in front of the school. The old Impala rumbles to a stop there, and he climbs out, grabbing the bouquet resting in his passenger seat.
His keys jangle in his other hand as he makes his way to the front office to check in, just like you told him to in your texted instructions. The nice ladies there give him a guest badge that he slaps on his chest, over his dress shirt, and they tell him how to get to the theater.
He feels awkward and out of place walking down the halls of this school alone, but you had to take Emma over there early before the show.Â
The hell am I doing here?
He has to fucking wonder.
But he promised you. He promised the kid. So heâs here.
Heâs relieved to see you standing off to the side of the theaterâs large double doors, waiting for him, by the look of you. And in that little black dress and heels, perfect for every curve, he more than appreciates the view.
His smile is almost involuntary when you notice him, your eyes brightening.
âHey,â you say, âI um, wasnât sure you would come.â
Dean kisses your cheek, lingering there at the scent of your perfume.
âMmm, you smell nice,â he whispers.
You try to temper your smile, but itâs no use.
âBehave,â you warn. Though you notice the bouquet of red roses heâs holding, and you soften. He plucks one of the stems out of the bunch and presents you with a single rose.
âGotta save the rest of these for the star of the show, but donât think I forgot about you, sweetheart,â he says.
That crooked grin of his should come with a warning label.
You take the rose, biting your lower lip. Your mouth opens, even though you donât know whatâs about to come out. But any reply you couldâve made is completely derailedâby the voice of your ex-boyfriend.
He greets you by name, and you turn around on reflex. While youâd been a bit uncertain about Dean, you thought couldâve banked on the fact that Nick wouldnât be here. He certainly takes note of Dean when he approaches, holding out his hand in greeting.
âNick Vaught,â he supplies.
Dean glances at you briefly. He knew who this man was before he spoke, just by the more guarded look on your face.
âDean Winchester,â he offers, along with his hand to shake.
Nick quirks a brow and points at Dean in recognition.
âWinchester. HunterCorp. You took over for your father, right? I remember reading the press release, after Ashland broke into the Fortune 500,â Nick says. His arrogance shines through in his tone and the subtle raise of his chin.
âYeah, we almost worked with an F500 company, Roman Enterprises,â Dean says, sharing a knowing look with you. âThey tried to sell me a gun that would take your hand off on the reload. So as far as Iâm concerned, being a top seller doesnât always mean quality. But congrats. Iâm sure you guys earned it.â
One thing Dean also has down is a fake ass grin. You cover a smile with your fingers. His hand slips to the small of your back.
âShould we go in, find our seats?â he asks you. You start to nod, butâ
âWait a minute,â Nick says. He watches the closeness between you and Dean shrewdly, but focuses on you. âI get that you work for HunterCorp, but why does the CEO care about my kidâs play?â
You almost sigh. This was why you almost didnât tell Nick about tonight, but you knew Emma deserved at least the attempt to have her father see her.
âWeâre seeing each other,â you say, matter of fact, and without the embarrassment you thought you might have, despite the judgy raise of his brows. You decide not to tack on the whole executive assistant part.
âRight, right. So youâre fucking,â Nick says flatly.
It earns him a frowning look from another parent walking into the theater.
You gape at him, until a glower overtakes your face. âJesus Christ, Nick.â
Deanâs expression hardens, but he doesnât let go of you. If anything, his guiding hand becomes more protective and he presses you toward the door.
âCome on. You donât owe him an explanation,â he says in your ear.
âI donât need one. Itâs fucking obvious,â Nick says, gesturing at you two. He snorts in amusement. âThough I shouldnât be too surprised. Guess you just have a type for authoritative men.â
âWatch your mouth,â Dean snaps. His voice is quiet, but deep enough to be a real warning.
Nickâs lips press together in annoyance.
Youâre already close to seething, but unlike him, you have some fucking decorum. You look around to make sure no oneâs watching you all too closely before you speak.
âThereâs actual parents around, and this is your daughterâs school, if you havenât noticed,â you hiss. âWhich to be fair, you probably havenât, since youâve never actually been here before. Hope you enjoy the fucking show.â
You pivot on your heel, and Dean follows after you. Though he glances over his shoulder, finding Nick standing there testily with one hand in his pocket and a tonightâs playbill in the other.
âIâm sorry,â you whisper, as you lead Dean down the row to the seats you reserved. Your dad is already sitting in one of them.
âWe were bound to meet sooner or later,â Dean replies wryly. âGrade A asshat.â
âYou have no idea,â you say. Though you pause and give your dad a small wave when he sees you. âBy the way, youâre meeting my dad too.â
Dean pauses. âWait, what?â
âPlease,â you say. You grab his hand for solidarity, and because you want to, offering him a slightly nervous smile.
Amused, he canât help but humor you. He steels himself a little as you two shuffle down the second row. He shakes hands with your father and exchanges pleasantries. Though when you stumble slightly on how to introduce Dean, your father is the one who actually helps you fill in the gap.
âAre you the brave soul whoâs been dating my daughter?â he asks.
Dean shakes his hand firmly. âThat would be me.â
The other man eyes him for a moment, seizing him up. After a moment, he nods.
âGood. You know youâve got a gem on your hands.â
Dean gives you a sly smile. âOh, I know very well.â
A blush blooms warmth in your cheeks. You take your seat between them and help Dean situate the bouquet on the floor. The rose he gave you rests in your lap.
Itâs just in time for Nick to take his seat at the end of the opposite row. He glances over at you two, but soon ignores you to take a look at the program.
You heave a long breath through your nose. Dean takes possession of your left hand, earning your attention. He presses a kiss to your knuckles. You smile, though doubt begins to creep in regardless. You lean in closer to him.
âYou sure about this?â you ask softly. âYou know this canât be the thing where you get bored after a week and send me a Tiffany bracelet as a consolation prize. You canât do it to Emmaââ
âHey,â Dean says, stopping you quietly, but firm. âI already told youâŠthis is more than that.â
You stare back at him with a measure of surprise. He understands it, considering his track record, but he knows heâll just have to convince you. When he thinks of you and the kid, he sees the life his father used to trade for long hours at the office and a heart attack at 52. Deanâs come to realize that if heâs not careful, heâll end up just like his old man.
So he smiles and leans in to steal a kiss. You canât help but melt into it, and into him.
Your father watches out of the corner of his eye with a smile of his own.
While Emma isnât Matilda herself, she plays a very adorable Lavender, one of Matildaâs best friendsâcomplete with a purple dress and glasses you found at Target. Through a lot of motherly pride and shedding a few tears, youâre able to get a few discreet pictures of her on your phone.
After the play, youâre half dreading and half looking forward to the moment she runs out from the backstage area with her teacher (who hilariously played Miss Trunchbull) and the rest of her class. Emmaâs back in her normal clothes, and most of the makeup was cleaned off with wipes, but she still somehow has glitter in her hair when she attacks you with a hug.
âBaby you did so good!â you say. Youâre smiling from ear to ear as you two sway back and forth.
âGood job, kiddo,â your father says, ruffling her hair. Emma gives her grandpa a big hug next.
âI remembered all my lines. And I held the lizard, but he was slimy!â she exclaims.
You laugh, though you still canât believe they used a real newt to drop into Miss Trunchbullâs drink.
âWell, youâve got some more people who came to see youââ
âHey, Em,â Nick says. He makes a subtle point to step into his daughterâs line of vision before Dean, who just waits behind.
He knows what Nick is doing, but itâs also kind of fair that he sees his daughter first. Dean isâŠwhat, a family friend? He doubts youâve told her more than what Emma already knows him to be: Mommyâs work friend.
Emmaâs face brightens. âDaddy!â
She hugs his waist. He holds her back, petting her hair.
âYou saw me?â she asks hopefully.
âOf course, honey. You did a great job.â
âWhat was your favorite part?â she asks.
Nick stumbles there slightly. Your lips quirk. Before intermission, you happened to look over and saw him scrolling through his phone. You suppose you can give him partial credit for sitting through the whole thing.
âUh, well, itâs hard to pick. Everything was so good,â he says. âHey, would you want to come over to hang out with me tonight?â
âNick,â you cut in sternly. He gives you some side-eye, but heâs focused on Emma. She looks a little unsure though.
âWhat? Sheâs never stayed over with me before. Tonightâs a special night,â he says.
âThatâs because,â you say, but you stop yourself short with an annoyed frown. You donât want to say in front of your daughter that the reason why sheâs never slept over at his apartment is because it goes against your full custody agreement, what he wanted to begin with.
âWell, you know very well why,â you say, holding Emma by her shoulders. âI think itâs time for us to say goodnight.â
Nick is about to protest, when his cell rings in his pocket. His jaw clenching, he checks his phone and swears under his breath.
He looks down at his daughter and gives her an apologetic look.
âThis is an important work call that I need to take, but I love you, and it was good to see you, honey.â
âYouâre leaving?â she asks, her eyes filling with disappointment. Nick hesitates, but glancing up at your unyielding face, then back to hers, he just strokes her on the head.
âIâm sorry, Em. Iâll see you again soon,â he says. He answers the call right before it stops ringing. âHey, no, cancel that. I want to see the new reports first. Get it to me within the hour.â
His voice drifts down the hall as he walks away. It leaves a crestfallen little girl in his wake.
But she finally notices Dean. Heâs been standing off to the side with a dozen roses behind his back. When he smiles at her gently, sheâs able to smile again too.
âHey, sweetheart. Finally get to move up the line to say hi to you. Looks like Iâm in the presence of a little celebrity,â he says. He takes a knee so that he can be eye-level with her when he gives her the bouquet.
Her eyes go wide as she accepts them. âWhoa, thereâs so many.â
You smile, sharing a look with your dad while you blink past a telltale sting in your eyes.
You squeeze Emmaâs shoulders. âWhat do you say?â
âThank you,â Emma says, swaying a little with her pretty roses.
Dean laughs and playfully thumbs at her cheek. âYouâre welcome.â
She giggles.
Dean glances up at you and your dad as he gets back up to his feet. âSo, can I take you guys out to celebrate? I know a nice place not too far.â
âFood sounds good to me,â your father says. Â
âHow nice are you talking?â you ask. Unlike Dean, you donât come from money. Your familyâs idea of a night out consisted of Red Lobster, Outback, or the Dairy Queen around the corner.
âHow about the Ruthâs Chris down the street,â Dean offers. He sees the look of reservation on your face and takes your hand in reassurance. âCome on, itâs on me.â
You bite your lip. âYou sure?â
âThe manâs sure, sweetheart. Letâs get moving,â your father says, rubbing his hands together before he steers Emma toward the exit. âGod knows I havenât had a good steak in the last decade.â
He helps Emma hold her flowers on the way to the parking lot, allowing Dean to keep his hold on your hand as you followed behind.
âThis is dangerous you know,â you say in amusement. âYouâre gonna give my dad a taste of the high life. Heâll think itâs free steak and bourbon forever.â
âHey, if thatâs what the guy wants, Iâm not above bribery,â Dean remarks.
You laugh and lean into his side, wrapping your arm around his. He presses a kiss to the side of your head, smiling all the while.
Two Years Later
Dean scans the very detailed document on his laptop with a critical eye.
âOkay, Yale graduate. MBA. Internships, the works. Strong start.â
Kevin Tran, the latest candidate, pushes up his glasses.
âI also maintained a 4.56 GPA weighted average, 4.78 cumulative,â he says. âUm, I can tell you more about how my roles in finance have intersected with business and sales, or first I can give you the highlights from my internships. Would you like that in chronological order or in order of relevance?â
Dean clears his throat and takes another sip of iced tea. Kevin watches him do it with some nervous energy as he tries not to fidget in his seat.
âWhat do you think, sweetheart?â Dean asks.
He glances over at you, where you sit in your own leather chair. This may be Deanâs office, but yours is now down the hall. As Operations Manager, you oversee HunterCorpâs logistics, budgets and resources, quality assurance, and office management. Youâre literally the connective piece between Sam and Dean, and every department in the company. But youâve been spread a little too thin for the past few months, juggling your new responsibilities with the old. Now, Dean needs your replacement.
You peruse Kevinâs resume again and flip the page. Your engagement ring catches the light.
âLetâs start with internships.â
AN: How'd you like Dean stepping up? You think he'd make a good stepdad? đ
I am working on a longer Dean AU series at the moment. I'll be telling you guys more about it next week, but until then, please let me know what you thought about this little mini series!
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