Summary: You start to get upset when Dean decides to shave off his beard
Word count: 0.5k
A/n: Live. Laugh. Love. Bearded Jensen.
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Your hands gently moved through Deans beard, the small hairs causing you fingers to tingle from the sensation. His own hands rested on your thighs, holding you gently as you sat on top of the bathroom counter.
“Princess?” He called, watching as your eyes drifted from the hair on his face to his relaxed ones. “Are you gonna start or are you gonna wait for it to grow longer?”
A small pout found its way onto your mouth, “I don’t want to get rid of your beard.” You whined, having half the mindset to hide the razor from the taller man. “I’d rather watch it grow.”
Dean mirrored your pout, albeit mockingly. “Well, it’s starting to get on my nerves, princess. It has to go.”
“Ok. But what if we just leave a bit of stubble instead?”
“No.”
“But, it’s attractive.” You told him, hoping that’d he change his mind and keep it for just a little longer.
“To bad.” He replied, stepping from between your legs. Taking a bottle of shaving cream and the razor from your grasp. “It’s starting to itch.”
You let out a small huff, slightly mesmerized at how he gently applied the shaving cream to the lower portion of his face. The fluffy white sudes mixing into the small strands thickly and throughly
Dean wetted the blade beneath the warm faucet, giving it a good shake to take off all excess water. Fingers gently pressed against his chin, he began to shave against the grain of his beard. You felt your stomach drop as you watched the foam disappear and just the smooth skin left in its place.
“What if you just keep a mustache?” You asked, leg coming up to your chest as you rested your chin on top.
Dean stopped his movements, glancing at you through the mirror. “Absolutely not.”
A scoff came from your mouth. “Why not? Do you think you’d look like hitler or something?”
“I wasn’t thinking that, but now I am.” He told you, continuing to shave away at his facial hair.
“So, no?”
“No.”
You shook your head, sliding off the counter as you made your way behind the older man. Placing both arms around his torso you rested your cheek against his back, listening for his heartbeat through the back of his shirt.
“Princess,” Dean called, not stopping his movements. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t watch you ruin your face.” You told him bluntly, turning your face to bury it in his shirt.
A chuckle left his lips, giving a smile glance over his shoulder to look at you. “Ruining my face, huh?” You nodded. “You know it’ll grow back, just like last time and the time before that.”
“But it’s torture.” You wined. “It’s like I’m dating a child when your done.”
Dean gave a small nod of his head, knowing that you’d either be talking about his childish behaviors or the baby face he’d get after shaving. Though it could just be both. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Will it make you feel better if next time I let you shave me?” He asked, dragging the blade over the last strip of foam from his face.
You nodded you head just a tad, “A little, yes.”
“Okay, princess.” He wiped any remaining shaving cream from his face before turning around and wrapping his arms around you. “We’ll do that.”
This is one of those times when my story yanked the wheel out of my hands and I just went along for the ride. So if you’re in the mood for a fluffy, angsty cookie with a smutty creamy middle - here ya go! 🙂
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Journey (Original Female Character)
Word Count: 3911 (told you it got away from me)
Warnings: Nothing really - smut, Dean with a beard (that needs a warning), fluffy angst and angsty fluff
“There’s my girl.”
Journey stopped in mid-swipe, dropping the bar rag to the table and turning slowly. “Well, I’ll be damned.” She made her way over to him, the limp noticeable, but it didn’t slow her down much. He watched her approach, a crooked smirk on his lips, thumb and forefinger smoothing over the facial hair around his mouth. She looked the same, hazel eyes sparkling, smile lines at the corners just making them seem brighter.
He took a step into her as she reached him, his arms snugging her in as hers closed around him. “Hey, Journey.” She laid her head against his chest, basking in the warmth in his voice as he said her name.
She pulled back a little to look up into his face. “Dean Winchester. Damn, it’s good to see you.” She reached a hand to his face, tugging gently on the beard. “This is new, I like it.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh, yeah. Got a few greys in there, honey. God, we’re gettin’ old, huh?”
“Yeah, who would have thought I’d still be kickin’,” he grinned, and she beamed up at him, the light in her eyes going straight to his heart.
“Me. I always told you that you were the best damn hunter I’d ever seen. Speaking of, where’s the other half of the team?”
“Sam? He, uh – he’s spending some time with his um… friend.”
“Finally hooked one, huh?”
“Yeah,” Dean chuckled. “Had to bring her back from the dead, but...”
“Hunter problems, right?” She was smiling, but her eyes scanned over his face, searching. “So – what brings you all the way up to Montana?”
Dean scoffed. “Came to see you, sweetheart.”
Journey nodded, her eyes shining. “Well, lucky me.” She studied him for a second or two. “Drink?”
Dean let his head drop a little. “I was kinda hoping we could hang out, talk a while, just – you and me, y’know? It’s been a hell of a long time.”
She smiled, gesturing around the currently empty room. “Well, all these customers might not like it, but I can lock up for the day.”
He grinned. “Business is booming, huh?”
She headed for the door, flipping the closed sign around and sticking a note to the window that said, ‘Back Tomorrow.’ “It comes and goes. Never gonna be rich, but - like I didn’t know that.” She came back to his side, taking hold of his hand. “Come on, honey. Let’s go get us a drink and talk.”
She led him to her living quarters in the back, and he shrugged his jacket from his shoulders as she called out to him from the kitchen. “Beer? Or is this a whiskey visit?”
He laughed. “Beer’s good.”
“Oh, thank God, whiskey visits need a little more prep time,” she teased, coming from the kitchen with two cold long necks in one hand and package of chips and salsa in the other. “Sorry, didn’t have time to make this, you’re gonna have to settle for store-bought.”
“I’ll try to get over it.” He watched as she put the snacks on the table, taking the beer from her fingers with a smile. She sat beside him on the well-worn but comfy sofa, turning to face him with her right leg tucked beneath her and her left stretched straight, foot on the floor. “How’s the leg, Journey?” The picture of her, bloody, broken, and chained to a basement wall flashed through his mind, and he clenched his teeth for a second. The demons who had captured and tortured her were long dead, but the memory still haunted his dreams.
She shrugged. “It’s okay. They’ve done everything they can do, and I’m used to it. Fucking demons.”
“Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Wasn’t your fault. Wasn’t anybody’s fault. Just part of the job.”
“I know. But I wish...”
She reached out to put a finger on his lips. “Dean. Baby, we’ve had this talk so many times. Are you ever gonna stop feeling guilty about it? You and Sam got me out of there as soon as you could. And Bobby. Damn it, I miss him.”
“You and me, both. I still have that thought, when we run up against it, you know? We should call Bobby, see if he has anything…”
“Yeah, he’s irreplaceable, that one. Loved him like a father.”
Dean nodded, a wistful smile on his face. “Yeah.”
Journey took a long pull from her bottle and then set it on the table, reaching for Dean’s hand and clasping it between both of hers. “Okay. Small talk – check. Something’s weighing you down. Talk to me.”
“How do you always know? I never could hide shit from you.”
“Baby, your soul is in your eyes.” She tilted her head slightly, her heart smarting a little at his humorless smirk. It was so hard to see him hopeless. He looked down, his head hanging as he spoke.
“I don’t know, Journey. You know what’s been happening, right?”
“You mean the whole ‘God’s actually an asshole and he’s destroying the world’ thing? Yeah, you and Sam have kept me kind of up-to-date with your short-and-sweet phone calls. Speaking of, you know you can just call me and, you know, talk? About whatever is bothering you? Even if you can’t drive all the way to Montana.”
“I know, I do. It’s just – what is there to say?” He sighed and shifted a little in his seat. “It’s like our whole lives have been manipulated, and it feels like we didn’t really make our own choices or change a fucking thing. I feel like a damn puppet, and Chuck’s the one pulling the strings.”
“See that? Right there? That’s talking about how you feel, honey.” She squeezed his hand, and he shook his head with a sheepish grin.
“All right, all right,” he grumped, but he knew she didn’t buy it for a minute. “Just – it’s not the way I was raised, you know? We don’t whine about how we feel, we just suck it up and keep moving. Do your damn job, then move on to the next one, save as many people as we can. Sam and I, we’ve always told each other we gotta keep fighting, keep swingin’ till we can’t.” He pulled his hand away and sat up, leaning forward, elbows on knees, looking down at the floor. “But now – I don’t know, Journey, it all feels kind of pointless. I feel pointless, like I don’t fucking matter, like everything I do – everything I’ve done – it all counts for nothing.” He turned his head to look at her, the defeat and pain in his eyes making her heart ache, before he stared back down at the floor. “I haven’t made one fucking bit of difference to this world. It’s all just been fucking entertainment for a God that doesn’t give a shit. I’ve put people through hell, gotten people killed – pulled Sammy out of college, for what? Got you tortured and damn near killed, for what? The only thing I’ve given anybody unlucky enough to be around me is pain.”
“Dean Winchester.” Her voice rang out, clear and angry, and he turned his face towards her, looking for all the world like a kid who just got caught cheating by his teacher. “You listen to me, and you listen good. Your life has not been pointless. The battles you’ve fought - and won, by the way – have not been pointless. Do you have any idea how many lives you’ve touched? Fuck Chuck and whatever he did, or is doing, or will do. Fuck him. You and Sam have always written your own story. You have saved so many people, given them life and hope. Without you, they’d have been gone. There are so many people out there that wouldn’t exist if you hadn’t been around. Your priority has always been saving people, saving families from losing each other, how is that pointless?”
Dean hung his head again. “Journey...”
“Damn it, did I say I was done? You look at me, Dean Winchester.” He did as he was told, his teeth worrying at his lip. “I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t saved me. Anybody else would have just given me up for dead. You guys risked your lives for me, even though you knew I probably was dead. And I’ve seen you do it hundreds of times, for so many others. You say you haven’t made a difference, that all of that counts for nothing?” She stood up, grabbing her beer and finishing it before turning to face him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “You’re important to me, damn it! Don’t you dare take something that’s important to me and act like it doesn’t matter. Don’t you fucking dare.” Her voice wavered on the last word, her eyes brimming with angry tears. “Okay, now I’m done.” She turned on her heel, heading for the kitchen, and he heard her bottle shatter as it hit the bottom of the trash can.
He got up slowly and walked to the kitchen, standing silently in the doorway as he watched her pour whiskey into a tumbler and throw down a swallow. “So I guess it’s a whiskey visit after all, huh?” She didn’t move, so he took a breath and approached her, putting his hands on her shoulders and trailing them down her arms, then back up to squeeze gently. “You’re important to me, too.” He could feel her shaking, and he kneaded at her shoulders again. “Hey, sweetheart… Come on. Talk to me.”
“Damn you,” she whispered, turning to face him and burying her face in his chest. He held her close, his eyes closed, his fingers combing through her hair. She finally slipped her arms around his waist, and he bent to kiss the top of her head.
“I always forget how short you are,” he rumbled, and a short laugh punched its way out of her as she slapped his shoulder.
“You’re such a dick.”
He was smiling now, an impish glint in his green eyes, and he grabbed for her whiskey, draining the glass as she shouted ‘Hey!’ in protest. “So what you’re saying is that dick is important to you.”
She giggled as she finished wiping her eyes, then grabbed her glass back and poured another shot. “Now there’s my Dean.” She took another drink, then handed it to him.
He downed it in one swallow, baring his teeth with a little hiss at the burn, then brushed her hair from her face with a gentle smile. “See, that’s why I need you. You always kick my ass back into shape.” His gaze warmed as he slipped his fingers beneath the curtain of her hair and down the slope of her neck. “And you’re sexy as hell.”
A slow smile was curving her lips as she reached up to run her fingers over his well-trimmed beard. “I gotta say, I’m kind of dying to kiss you with this scruff.”
“Not sayin’ no to that,” he said gruffly, meeting her halfway, his hand cupping the back of her head and holding her close as their lips met. He slipped his other arm around her waist, crushing her to him, his tongue sweeping over her bottom lip. She sighed, letting him in, sinking into the feel and taste and smell of him after too long an absence. She smiled a little, rubbing her face against his as they kissed, and he stopped for a moment, smiling down at her.
“It’s softer than I thought,” she whispered between his nibbles of her lips.
“Wanna feel it, you know, other places?” he mumbled, laughing soft and low at her shiver.
“Oh, yeah. That sounds… yeah.”
He grabbed her close again and kissed her, steering her backwards towards the door. They kissed their way through the living room, down the hall, giggling as they bounced off walls and missed doorways, finally finding their way to the bedroom. Dean let her go, his smile fading as he reached for the hem of her t-shirt. She raised her arms and let him pull it over her head, then drop it to the ground. “God, I’ve missed you,” he said softly, running his fingertips over the swell of her breast almost reverently.
“I’ve been right here,” she answered, her eyes drifting closed as he unhooked the front clasp of her bra and swept the lacy obstruction aside. He captured a nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a little tug before covering her with one large hand, kneading at her with a moan. She whispered his name, her fingers working at the button and zipper of her jeans and then reaching for his. She gave him a little push and shoved the rest of her clothing off, kicking it away and reaching to pull his shirt up. “Naked. Now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She took his hand as he finished stripping down, pulling him towards the bed. “Come here and show me how much you missed me,” she said with a mischievous smile, laying back and scooting to the middle of the bed.
He let out a low growl, climbing over her and kissing her senseless before moving to her neck, her shoulder, and across her chest, stopping to rub his beard on her skin and making her giggle again. That stopped with a surprised little yelp as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, tweaking the other between his fingers until she was writhing beneath him. He pulled off with a soft ‘pop,’ laving over the stiff bud with his tongue one more time for good measure. “I’ll be right back, just gotta go for a little bit,” he teased, kissing his way down her body and sucking a mark on her belly, looking up at her and wiggling his eyebrows. “So I can find my way back.”
She shook her head, laughing, her fingers running through his hair. “You are the silliest, sexiest man I’ve ever met.”
“Don’t you forget it,” he said, then made her inhale sharply as he nipped at the crease of her thigh. He kissed and nibbled there until she was sighing and squirming, then kissed his way over the scars on her left leg, top to bottom and back up again. He raised his head, looking into her eyes for a long moment before bending to place a soft, lingering kiss at the top of her mound, then working his way down slowly.
He let out a satisfied hum as he settled between her thighs, wriggling a little to settle in, placing soft, sucking kisses all over before sweeping his tongue through her folds. Her fingers tightened in his hair and he moaned, licking harder and flicking the tip of his tongue over her clit, making her jump. He took his time tasting, teasing, laving at her entrance until she whined his name, then plunging his tongue in deep. When he had explored her thoroughly with his tongue, he pulled back, swiping the back of his hand across his face as he watched her gasp for breath, her head pressed back into the pillow. “So fucking beautiful, Journey,” he said softly, his hands kneading at her thighs. He moved one hand to her pussy, working one finger, then two, inside her, pumping in and out slowly. She moaned as he found her sweet spot, and he smiled, aiming his thrusts against it and bending to suck her clit into his mouth.
Dean braced his forearm across her belly as she bucked beneath him, working at her relentlessly until she shouted his name, her entire body quaking. He only let up when she gripped his hair, pushing at him to stop, struggling for the breath to speak. “Dean… I guess… you really did miss me...”
He bent to grab his shirt from the floor, scrubbing it across his face, and then moving back over her with a grin. “I really did.” He started nibbling his way back up, kissing the soft skin of her belly and taking his sweet time, until Journey’s patience gave out and she sat up, surprising him. When he looked up, she planted her lips on his and went to town, wrenching a moan from him as she fondled what she could reach of his cock.
She finally pulled her lips from his, leaving him with a little suck on the tip of his tongue. “Get up here and finish what you started, Winchester. I need you inside me, now.”
His eyes were practically glowing with heat as he watched her lay back again. “Yeah? Want me to fill you up, sweetheart?”
“Yes!” She was practically whining now, and she pouted prettily, making him laugh. “Stop teasing, Dean.”
His erection prodded at her center as he covered her with his body, kissing her hungrily. “I need to be inside you, too,” he said in a low growl, raising back up to press forward. His eyes closed as he bottomed out, his face working as she pulsed and fluttered around him, slowly adjusting to him as he held himself in deep. “Fuck, you feel so good, baby, squeezing me tight,” he groaned, and she whimpered softly at his words. He hooked an arm beneath the knee of her good leg, pulling back and then driving home, and she arched her back and cursed, begging him not to stop.
“Oh, you got it, gorgeous, hold on...” he said with clenched teeth, burying his face in her neck and hammering into her fast and hard. After a few strokes, her cries melded into one long keening wail, punctuated with Dean’s grunts and groans of exertion, and the sound of their bodies colliding with each savage thrust. One last broken cry left her lips as her muscles seized, frozen for a split second before her orgasm sent delicious fire through every nerve, her body shaking, and Dean shouted as she pulsed and clenched around him. “Fuck! Fuck, honey, fuckfuckfuck...” he gritted out, and then he was coming, fierce and hard, his teeth clamping down for a moment on the curve of her neck.
“Ow.” She whispered it, then laughed softly as he began to kiss over the bite, apologizing breathlessly.
“Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean…”
“Dean, I’m fine, it’s fine. Just stung a little when you let go.” She let her fingers trail down his back, smiling as he rolled his head enough to look into her face.
“Damn near killed me, woman.”
She giggled again, leaning over to kiss his damp forehead. “You’ve survived worse.”
He smiled a lazy, sated smile and moved in for a kiss. “Baby, you are the best. So pretty much everything is worse in comparison.” His kiss was warm, his lips caressing hers in a way that was sending her heart rate upward again, and she stared up at him, breathless, as he pulled back. His green eyes were searching hers, his hand coming up to sweep her hair back and cup the side of her face. “Come back with me, Journey.”
“What?” Her eyes widened a little in surprise, and he leaned back in for another kiss.
“I mean it. Come back with me.”
“Dean...”
He fell into silence for a moment, then leaned in to kiss her forehead before moving away from her, dropping down beside her on the bed. “I know, that was a lot to ask. I mean, you ran all the way to Montana to get away.”
“What?”
“I know what happened to you… it was bad. We almost lost you, that scared the shit out of me, and Sam, and I know it was worse for you. I don’t blame you for leaving. And I don’t blame you for wanting to make a new start. That’s why I tried to stay away as much I could.”
She turned to her side, her eyes brimming with tears. “Is that what you think? That I ran away from you?” He didn’t look at her, just gave a little shrug, a sad quirk of a smile on his face for a second before he began to gnaw at his lip. “Dean? Baby, look at me. Please?” He finally turned his head towards her, and she swiped impatiently at the tear that overflowed at the look on his face. “I didn’t… that isn’t why. I mean, yeah, I needed a break. But when my friend Mel called, asked me to run his place when he got sick, I couldn’t say no. And then he left the damn bar to me in his will, and I just – put down roots, I guess.” She sniffed, blinking the tears away determinedly as she continued. “And honestly? I thought you moved on, pretty much. I mean, I didn’t hear from you for months. I think it was over a year before you showed up here. And this time? Dean, I haven’t seen you in almost five years! And now you tell me it’s because you thought I didn’t want you around?”
“I just figured you were better off.”
“Right. I never went through weeks and months and years of listening for the sound of that Impala, or your boots walking across the porch, just wishing I could see you. Never fell into bed with you at the drop of a hat the few times you did show up, because I needed you so damn bad. Never cried myself stupid for days after you left because I knew it might have been the last time.” She stifled a quiet sob, forcing it into submission before she went on. “I’m so stupid. I should have told you how I felt.”
“I should have told you, too. I should’ve asked you to come back a long time ago. I was just afraid you’d say no. At least this way, I still had you once in a while.”
“Fine. So we’re both stupid.”
He huffed out a rueful laugh. “Yeah. I guess we are.” He turned towards her, his eyes searching her face. “Well, I’m tired of being stupid. I’m tired of missing you. I’m tired of wishing you were there every time I crash at night. I’m tired of pretending to myself that I don’t need you.” Her eyes were sparkling with tears as she let him continue, her hand reaching up to take hold of his and hug it to her chest. “Listen. I don’t know if the world’s gonna end bloody, or if we’ll figure something out and just keep grindin’ like we always do. I’ve got no idea. But, whatever way this all goes, I want to spend what time I have left – however much that is - with you.” A tear escaped, and he kissed it away before capturing her lips in his, gentle and warm. She smiled softly at him as he raised his head, and his words tumbled out in a rush. “I know, it’s a lot to ask, and if you’d rather stay miles away from this whole mess, I get it. I mean, I know it’s not...”
“Dean.” She put a finger to his lips, and they curved in a sheepish little smile before he kissed her fingertip. “Are you gonna let me talk?”
He ducked his head and looked up with an abashed smirk. “Sorry. What did you want to say?”
