Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: The first time Dean Winchester kisses you
Word count: 861
A/N: I am debating on making this a series, covering different "Firsts" with Dean.. Any interest in that? Let me know!
The first time Dean Winchester kisses you, it happens in the least romantic place imaginableâan old gas station parking lot on the outskirts of nowhere. The sun is setting, casting an amber glow over the cracked asphalt and the Impala parked nearby, her paint gleaming like polished obsidian. The faint smell of gasoline mingles with the crisp scent of impending rain, a storm brewing in the distance.
It wasnât planned. Nothing about Dean ever feels planned, really. Heâs a mess of contradictionsâcocky and self-assured one minute, guarded and vulnerable the next. Youâve been riding shotgun with him for weeks now, chasing down leads, salt-and-burning restless spirits, and fighting things most people wouldnât dare to believe existed. Somewhere along the way, you became more than just hunting partners. You donât know what to call it yet, but thereâs a connection between you, an unspoken pull that youâve both been too stubbornâor scaredâto acknowledge.
Until now.
It starts with an argument. Of course it does. Dean has this way of pushing your buttons, and tonight heâs doing it with the precision of a master.
âYou canât just run in there without a plan!â you snap, your arms crossed over your chest.
âAnd what was your plan, huh?â he shoots back, his voice rising. âTo stand around and wait until the ghost decides to play nice? Thatâs not how this works.â
âItâs called strategy, Dean. Maybe you should try it sometime instead of going full kamikaze every damn hunt!â
He scoffs, dragging a hand down his face in frustration. âYou know what your problem is? You think too much. Sometimes you just gotta act.â
âAnd you think too little!â you retort, your eyes narrowing. âOne of these days, your impulsiveness is going to get you killed.â
The words hang in the air, sharper than you intended, and for a moment, Dean just stares at you. His jaw tightens, and thereâs a flicker of something in his eyesâhurt, maybe, or regretâbut itâs gone before you can be sure.
âFine,â he says, his voice quieter now. âIf youâve got it all figured out, why the hell do you even need me?â
Itâs not the first time youâve fought, but thereâs something different about this one. The air between you feels charged, like the storm rolling in above. You donât answer right away, and Dean takes a step closer, his boots crunching against the gravel.
âWhy, huh?â he presses, his tone softer but no less intense. âWhy do you keep sticking around if Iâm such a screw-up?â
Your heart pounds against your ribs, a wild, erratic rhythm that matches the storm clouds overhead. You open your mouth to respond, but the words catch in your throat. Because itâs not that simple. Because you donât stick around in spite of his flawsâyou stick around because of them. Because Dean Winchester, for all his faults, is the kind of person who will throw himself in harmâs way without a second thought to save someone else. Because heâs loyal to a fault, fiercely protective, and has a smile that could light up the darkest corners of the world, even when he doesnât believe it himself.
âDeanâŠâ you start, but his name barely makes it past your lips before he moves.
Itâs not hesitant or tentativeâitâs sudden, like heâs been holding himself back for too long and finally snapped. His hands cup your face, rough and calloused but somehow gentle, and then his lips are on yours.
The kiss is everything you didnât know you needed. Itâs not perfectâDeanâs lips are a little chapped, and the angle is slightly awkward at firstâbut itâs real. Thereâs an urgency to it, a raw, unfiltered emotion that leaves you breathless. His hands are warm against your skin, grounding you even as the world seems to tilt on its axis.
You donât know who moves first, but suddenly your hands are fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer as if the space between you is unbearable. He responds in kind, deepening the kiss with a low, almost involuntary sound that sends a shiver down your spine. Itâs like the dam youâve both been holding back has finally burst, and thereâs no going back now.
When you finally break apart, youâre both breathing hard, your foreheads pressed together. The storm is closer now, the first drops of rain starting to fall, but neither of you seems to notice.
âWow,â you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
Dean chuckles, a low, self-deprecating sound. âYeah, uh⊠sorry about that. I probably shouldâveââ
âDonât,â you interrupt, your fingers still gripping his jacket. âDonât apologize.â
His eyes meet yours, and for once, thereâs no wall, no mask, no bravado. Just Dean.
âIâve wanted to do that for a while,â he admits, his voice soft and almost vulnerable.
You smile, your heart swelling in your chest. âTook you long enough.â
He laughs, the sound warm and genuine, and the tension between you finally seems to ease. The rain starts to pick up, but neither of you moves. For once, the hunt can wait. For once, the only thing that matters is this momentâmessy, imperfect, and absolutely perfect all at once.
Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @pizzagirlxnsfwx @king-of-milf-lovers @jollyhunter
Bucky Barnes was not in bed when Y/N woke up. At first they only noticed because the other side of the mattress felt cold when they reached across it half asleep. Usually Bucky slept lightly enough that even moving too much would wake him, so an empty bed at this hour immediately felt wrong.
The apartment was quiet when Y/N walked out of the bedroom. The only sound came from the television still running somewhere in the living room, low enough to barely hear. They followed the flickering light and stopped in the doorway when they saw him asleep on the couch.
Bucky looked uncomfortable as hell. One arm thrown across his stomach, his head tilted awkwardly against the couch cushion like he had only meant to sit there for a few minutes before passing out accidentally. The blanket from their bed was hanging half onto the floor.
Then Y/N noticed the metal arm sitting on the coffee table, placed there carefully beside him.
Their stomach tightened a little at the sight.
âBucky?â they said quietly.
The reaction was immediate.
Bucky woke up like someone had fired a gun next to his head. His whole body jerked forward hard, breathing sharp before his eyes even focused properly. For one bad second he looked completely ready to fight whoever was standing over him.
Then he recognized Y/N.
Everything in him dropped after that. His shoulders loosened and he dragged a hand down his face roughly before leaning back again.
âSorry,â he muttered.
Y/N walked over slowly and sat down on the edge of the couch, glancing once more at the arm on the table before looking back at him. âWhy are you sleeping out here?â
Bucky stayed quiet for a moment. His eyes stayed fixed somewhere on the floor instead of them.
âI had a nightmare.â
His voice sounded rough from exhaustion more than sleep.
Y/N waited without pushing him and eventually Bucky exhaled through his nose, rubbing his hand against his jaw.
âYou moved in your sleep and I grabbed you.â His expression tightened immediately after saying it. âFor a second I thought somebody was on me.â
Y/N remembered it then. Barely. The feeling of being pulled awake for half a second in the middle of the night before Bucky suddenly let go and got out of bed. They had been too tired to fully process it at the time.
âYou let go,â they said quietly.
âAfter a moment.â His jaw clenched hard enough Y/N could see it. âI woke up and realized it was you .â
The room went silent again. Bucky leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, staring down at his remaining hand like he could not stand looking anywhere else.
âI just kept thinking about it after that,â he admitted finally. âWhat happens if one day I donât stop fast enough.â
Y/Nâs chest hurt hearing that because he sounded genuinely afraid of himself. Not dramatic or angry. Just looking tired and scared in a way that he looked worn down.
Bucky glanced over at the arm sitting beside them on the table.
âSo I took it off.â
Like that explained everything.
But Y/N stayed where they were, looking at him quietly instead of reacting with anger like he expected.
âYou should be pissed at me for that,â Bucky said quietly. He still was not looking at them. âI grabbed you hard enough to leave marks.â
âWhy?â Y/N asked quietly. âYou had a nightmare and scared yourself so bad you took your own arm off.â They shook their head slightly. âIâm not angry at you for that.â
Bucky stayed silent.
Y/N moved closer, kneeling in front of him so they were at the same level before speaking again.
âI know who you are, Buck. I wouldnât still be here if I thought you were gonna hurt me, and I know you wouldn't do that on purpose.â
Y/N slowly lifted a hand to his cheek, making Bucky finally look at them again.
The final chapter of Unsent Messages will be posted in just a few days. đđ
This story started with a glitch, a drafts folder, and two boys who loved each other too much to say it out loud. Now weâre at the end, where everything finally comes into the light.
Chapter 5 is soft, honest, and a little fragile in the way healing usually is. Itâs about choosing each other on purpose. Itâs about saying the scary things anyway. Itâs about no more running.
One of my favorite lines from the final chapter:
âIâm here. And Iâm not going anywhere.â
Thank you for every reblog, every tag essay, every comment, every kudos. Youâve made this such an emotional, beautiful experience. I canât wait for you to read the ending and sit in that quiet, steady love with them.
One last chapter. One last message.
(read from the beginning â) https://archiveofourown.org/works/77927536
Summary: You and Max Verstappen have been inseparable since childhood, best friends turned soulmates. From karting tracks to the world stage of Formula 1, you've stood by his side for fifteen years. Through victories, losses, and the pressures of fame, your love has been the one constant in his life. But with the spotlight burning brighter than ever and the weight of expectations growing heavier, can your love withstand everything that comes your way? Or will the pressures of the racing world prove too much, even for a love as strong as yours?
Max's POV
Fifteen years. That's how long Y/N and I have been together. From the moment we met at twelve years old, awkward and full of dreams, to nowâstill inseparable. Time has changed a lot of things: I became a Formula 1 driver, constantly traveling the world, and Y/N pursued their own dreams, yet through it all, we never let go of each other.
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel of my Red Bull Racing car, heart pounding as I maneuver through the tight turns of Monaco. The race is intense, the pressure immense, but in the back of my mind, Y/N is always there. She is in the paddock, watching, supportingâjust like she always have.
After crossing the finish line first, the overwhelming joy isn't just about the winâit's about whoâs waiting for me. As soon as I step out of the car, peeling off my helmet, my eyes search for her. And there she is, arms open, smiling like she always do. My safe place.
I stride toward them, and before I can say a word, Y/N throws her arms around me. I bury my face in her hair, inhaling her familiar scent. Thisâthis is my real victory.
"You did it!" they say breathlessly, squeezing me tight.
I pull back just enough to look into her eyes. "I always do it for you."
Y/Nâs POV
Fifteen years and counting. Being with Max since we were kids has been a whirlwind, but one I wouldn't trade for anything. From watching him race karts at the local track to standing in the paddock at some of the worldâs most famous circuits, Iâve seen him grow, fight, and succeed.
When he crosses the finish line first, I canât hold back my excitement. He does it again, proving why he's the best, and my heart swells with pride. The moment he steps out of the car, sweaty and exhausted, but eyes locked onto mine, I feel the same rush I did when we were teenagers.
"You did it, champ!" I exclaim, wrapping my arms around him.
He lifts me off the ground slightly, laughing into my neck. "Couldnât have done it without you, liefje."
Later, as the celebrations wind down, we sneak away from the chaos, walking along the marina hand in hand. The lights from the yachts reflect on the water, creating a mesmerizing glow.
"How do you feel?" I ask, squeezing his hand gently.
"Happy," he says, looking down at me with that boyish grin. "Winning is great, but coming home to you? Thatâs everything."
Maxâs POV
Later that night, we sit on the balcony of our Monaco apartment, the city lights flickering against the dark sky. Y/N is curled up against me, her head resting on my chest as I absentmindedly play with her fingers.
"Did you ever think we'd make it this far?" she asks softly.
I press a kiss to her forehead. "I never doubted it. You're the only constant in my life, Y/N. Through everythingâmy career, the wins, the lossesâit's always been you."
She smiles, her eyes shining under the moonlight. "Fifteen years down⊠forever to go?"
I chuckle, pulling her closer. "Forever sounds perfect to me."
Y/Nâs POV
Being with Max isn't just about the races, the fame, or the trophies. Itâs about the moments like thisâwhere it's just us, where weâre still those two kids who fell in love all those years ago.
"Do you ever miss how simple life used to be?" I ask, tracing small patterns on his arm.
He thinks for a moment before answering. "Sometimes. But then I remember that I have you, and that makes everything worth it."
I tilt my head up to kiss him softly, savoring the warmth of his lips against mine. "Hereâs to chasing forever, then."
And as he holds me tighter, whispering sweet promises of forever, I know that no matter where life takes us, weâll always find our way back to each other.
Unsettled: Ezra brings an archaeologist to Chopper Base. Kallus feels he'd seen the man before but can't quite remember where.Â
Disillusioned: when Cal calls upon the Ghost crew for assistance on a mission, Kanan soon realises just how much he and Cal had changed from their days in the Temple.
Unity Pairing and Bed Sharing Ch. 17: Flirting and Fighting
Friday morning Hermione was awoken by a tapping on her window. She walked over to see a large eagle owl sitting on the ledge. She opened her window to let it in. She fed him a few treats she stored in her desk, which earned her some lovely little happy twittering. She removed the note from the owl's leg.
Granger,
I'd like to take you out to dinner tonight at the three broomsticks. Meet outside the Gryffindor common room at 7?
-DM
Hermione was grinning from ear to ear. She quickly scribbled her acceptance and sent Draco's owl back out the window. She tried to think about what to wear. It was the three broomsticks, so casual, but it was their first date, so she wanted to look nice. She didn't have much experience dressing for dates. She couldn't exactly wear her Yule ball dress as she had with Viktor. And she and Ron had mostly hung out at the Burrow or with Harry and Ginny at the Leaky. Hermione decided she'd just have to figure it out later and got ready for her day of classes.
As she walked across the grounds on her way to Herbology, Draco strode up next to her, his long legs catching up to her with ease.
"Hello Granger," he greeted her smoothly with his aristocratic drawl.
"Having a good morning?"
"Why yes I am. How about you?"
"Well let's see I'm walking to class next to you and I have a date with a very sexy witch tonight, so yes, I'd say today is going splendidly."
Hermione could help but smile at his shameless flirting.
"You know you could have just asked me out in person right?"
"Absolutely not." He looked appalled. "That's not how things are done. And to be clear, I intend to do this right."
Summary: After a brutal hunt, a moment with you leaves Dean feeling vulnerable.
It had been a rough hunt. The kind that left you bone-tired, covered in dirt and blood, and grateful just to be alive. Dean had seen his fair share of hunts like that, more than he could count, but this one had been particularly brutal. A rogue werewolf pack, more vicious than usual, had been tearing through a small town, and it had taken everything they had to put them down.
By the time the last werewolf was dead, Dean was running on fumes. Sam had taken a nasty hit but was still standing, while youâyouâd fought like hell, never backing down, even when things looked bad. Dean had seen you take a few hard knocks, and it had worried him, but he knew better than to try and tell you to sit out. You were too stubborn for that, and he respected you for it, even if it made him want to wrap you in bubble wrap sometimes.
After the fight, theyâd made their way back to the motel, dragging their tired bodies inside and collapsing onto the worn-out furniture. Sam had headed straight for the shower, leaving Dean alone with you in the small, dimly lit room. The adrenaline was still wearing off, leaving him shaky and wired, his mind replaying the close calls over and over.
Dean glanced over at you, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. You looked as tired as he felt, your shoulders slumped, your face smeared with dirt and blood. But there was something else there, tooâsomething he couldnât quite put his finger on. Maybe it was the way you were holding yourself, like you were carrying a weight too heavy for your small frame. Or maybe it was the way your eyes had that faraway look, like you were somewhere else entirely.
He opened his mouth to say somethingâanythingâbut the words got stuck in his throat. What could he say that would make a difference? That theyâd survived? That theyâd made it through another day? It felt hollow, like an empty victory. But as he stood there, searching for the right words, you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his.
And then you were moving, crossing the small space between you in just a few steps. Before Dean could process what was happening, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug.
For a split second, Dean froze, his brain trying to catch up with his body. He wasnât used to thisâphysical affection, comfort, whatever you wanted to call it. Sure, heâd hugged people before, but it was always brief, a quick, reassuring squeeze before moving on. This was different. This was you, holding onto him like he was something solid, something real.
And that was when it hit him. The full weight of everything theyâd been through, everything heâd been holding inside. The fear, the anger, the guiltâit all came rushing to the surface, nearly knocking the breath out of him. But instead of pushing it down, instead of brushing it off like he usually did, Dean let himself feel it. Just for a moment, he let himself lean into you, his arms coming up to wrap around you in return.
You were warm, solid, grounding him in a way he hadnât expected. He could feel the steady beat of your heart against his chest, the rise and fall of your breath. It was comforting, more comforting than heâd ever admit out loud. Dean closed his eyes, letting himself sink into the embrace, letting himself forget, if only for a moment, about everything outside that small, dimly lit room.
The hug lasted longer than it probably should have, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to pull away. And honestly, Dean didnât want to. There was something about being in your arms that made him feel⊠safe. It was a strange feeling, one he wasnât used to, but it wasnât unwelcome. It was like for the first time in a long time, he could just be Deanânot the hunter, not the protector, just Dean.
When you finally did pull away, it was slow, reluctant, like neither of you really wanted to break the connection. But eventually, you did, taking a small step back, your eyes searching his for⊠something. Dean wasnât sure what, but he could see the question there, the unspoken need for reassurance.
He offered you a small, crooked smile, the kind that didnât quite reach his eyes but was real all the same. âWeâre okay,â he said softly, the words feeling inadequate but true nonetheless.
You nodded, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other. There was something different between you now, something that hadnât been there before. The air felt charged, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid. Dean could feel it in his chest, a strange, fluttering sensation that he wasnât sure how to deal with.
But instead of overthinking it, instead of trying to analyze what it all meant, Dean did what he always did. He pushed it down, locked it away in that little box in his mind where he kept all the things he didnât know how to handle. But even as he did, he knew this was different. This wasnât something he could just ignore and hope it went away. This was you, and that changed everything.
Dean cleared his throat, glancing away as if breaking eye contact would somehow break the spell. âYou should get cleaned up,â he said, his voice gruffer than he intended. âGet some rest.â
You nodded again, but before you turned away, you reached out, squeezing his arm. It was a brief touch, but it was enough to send that strange, fluttering sensation racing through him again. And then you were gone, heading toward the bathroom, leaving Dean standing there, alone with his thoughts.
As the sound of the shower filled the small motel room, Dean sank down onto the bed, running a hand through his hair. He let out a long breath, the events of the night finally catching up to him. But even as the exhaustion pulled at him, all he could think about was youâhow it had felt to hold you, to be held by you.
It left him with a feeling he couldnât quite shake, something warm and unsettling all at once. Dean wasnât sure what it meant, wasnât sure he was ready to figure it out. But he knew one thing for certain: that hug had changed something inside him. It had cracked open a part of him heâd kept locked away for so long, a part he hadnât even realized was there anymore.
And now, as he sat there in the quiet room, he couldnât help but wonder what came next. Because if there was one thing he knew for sure, it was that he couldnât go back to the way things were before. Not after that. Not after you.
Tag List: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @jc-winchester @whump-loverz @mishreem
