#b21stchallenge

He glanced at you then, that crooked half-smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Kid, have you seen yourself in that dress? ’S a miracle we even made it out of the room.”

“Dear God,” you chanted, trying very hard to suppress your grin, “you’re insatiable.”

“Well,” he said, fingertips ghosting precariously low on your back “never heard you complaining about that one before.”

Pushing his shoulder away, you groaned and mumbled a shut up under your breath, cheeks going a tad reddish, but he only laughed and wrapped his hands around your middle.

“What?” A sweet kiss on your hair. “’S true.”

“Ass.”

“Chipmunk.” He retorted and, despite the fact you wanted to bawl and roll your eyes at the nickname, you smiled, in love with the way his eyes were bright and alive under the starlight, mind already wandering to simpler times, when the two of you used to play hide and seek in Bobby’s junk yard, when you were just two lost little kids, taking comfort in each other’s presence, sharing smiles and dreams and nightmares, and you knew. 

Dean Winchester had always been your person.

He was still there.

The little boy with the sad green eyes and the cute dark freckles that had visited Uncle Bobby the night before was still there, sitting on one of steps at the front porch, shoulders hunched together in defeat as he stared at the ground before him.

He looked sad and didn’t speak much.

And, even though you knew why he was acting the way he did –Bobby had explained everything to you because you were a big girl and he trusted you, you still didn’t like the look on his face. You couldn’t quite explain it but he seemed like the kind of boy that deserved to smile all the time.

All kids did.

So, after a very short discussion with yourself, you smoothed down your dress like all the ladies on TV did when they were about to do something dramatic, picked up your stuffed chipmunk and began to walk towards him.

He didn’t look up when you reached his side, so you cleared your throat and swayed a little on your feet.

“Hi.” You said shyly. “You’re Dean, right?”

No answer.

Huffing a little, you ran a hand over your face, then pursed your lips and decided to try again.

“I’m Y/N. This is Mr. Cuddles.” You explained sternly, holding up the toy your mother had given you. “We’re staying here with Uncle Bobby.” You stopped at that, looked around you and added. “Bobby’s not really my Uncle, but he said I could call him that. I think it makes him happy.”

Silence.

You looked at Mr. Cuddles in confusion and gestured towards the steps.

“Can I sit with you?”

Dean didn’t reply, but he did scoot over just a bit so, you grinned sweetly, taking a seat right next to him.

“I think you make him happy too. Uncle Bobby, I mean. I think he really likes having kids around.”

You had his full attention now, green eyes glued to your tiny form and you squinted, head cocked to the side.

“You don’t really talk, do you?”

A shrug.

“It’s okay. I talk enough for the both of us. We’ll be great friends.” You blinked. “Do you want to be friends with me?”

He didn’t respond.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” You stated, licking your lips. You paused for a minute, thinking about something and then-

“Uncle Bobby told me what happened to your mom.”

Dean tensed visibly at that, jaw clenched and brows bumped together in a scowl.

“Don’t be mad, please. He just wanted to help.” You whined, your grip tightening around the stuffed animal you’d been holding as tears began to fill your eyes. “I lost my mommy too, you know. First her, and then my daddy. And that’s why Bobby took me in.” you sniffled a little, avoiding his gaze, though you could feel his eyes burning holes at you. “So, I get why you always want to be alone. But I still want to be your friend. Everybody needs a friend, D.”

Warm fingers wrapped around your wrist and squeezed then, just the tiniest bit of pressure catching you off guard.

You smiled, faintly.

And, despite the fact you were only five at that time and didn’t know anything real about the world, you knew that, in that moment, in Bobby’s junk yard, while the morning sun kissed your skin, you and Dean Winchester became inseparable.

Gentle breeze caressed your skin, dress swaying along with it, while the waves rolled up at the shore and the salty scent of sea foam blended with that of burning wood.

Most of the people were huddled together around the bonfire by now, lonesome guitar strains and stray voices blanketing the fresh night air until a new reggae tinged melody drifted around the beach, vibrant and warm.

Glancing up, you noticed a bunch of kids that were gathered around the bonfire. Most of them were just standing there, orbs pools of awe in front of the bright light, but your eyes stumbled over a couple of them dancing, happy little smiles gracing their faces.

“Cute, huh?” Dean’s voice crawled into your thoughts, words grazing your skin like the softest of touches.

“What?”

“The kids.” He explained, a smile in his voice. “They’re cute.”

“Well. All kids are.”

“Yeah, right.” he snorted. “You were such a monster.”

“Hey, I was not.” You complained, elbowing his ribs as your cheeks flushed pink.

“Sweetheart, you could get away with just about anything because of that innocent little smile of yours.”

“I was adorable, alright?”

He chuckled then, genuine and warm, a laugh that vibrated through his bones and fluttered in the air between you.

“Never said you weren’t, Chipmunk.” He whispered, voice dipped into a sea of tenderness as he kissed your temple, eyes focused on the immensity of blue before you. “Never said you weren’t.”

Silence.

Nothing but the sound of crickets and Bobby’s loud snores echoed into the dark hallway as you padded towards Dean’s bedroom, dragging M. Cuddles with you.

Reaching the dim-lighted bedroom almost immediately, you scrunched your nose up when the door creaked and entered the room, eyes drifting to where Sam was asleep. Once you made sure you hadn’t woken him up, you sighed in relief and let your small feet lead you to your friend’s bed.

“D.” you whined, lightly tapping his shoulder.

The boy stirred, but didn’t open his eyes.

“Bobby?” he rasped, nuzzling his pillow. “Is Sammy okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. It’s me. Y/N.” You replied patiently. “C’mon, D. Wake up.”

A groan.

Eyes blinking owlishly.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“Nightmare.” You explained simply and he frowned in concern, rumbling the sheets as he sat up.

“Same as last time?”

You nodded solemnly, fidgeting with your stuffed toy.

“The monster in the closet took Bobby. And then he came back and took you and mister John and Sammy.” You whimpered, tears glistening in your eyes.

Dean sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, green orbs wide and concerned as they gazed at you.

“Y/N, it was just-”

“I know it wasn’t real.” you explained, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands. “But it was really scary, D.”

Dean smiled then, a sleepy, cute smile he always wore when his brother was around.

“C’mere.” He said, patting the empty space next to him on the bed. “Want to stay with me tonight?”

Your face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Can I?”

“Course you can, Chipmunk. Mr. Cuddles can stay too.”

You nodded at that, and reached for the sheets, then stopped a few seconds later, seemingly thinking about something.

“What? What is it?”

You gnawed on your bottom lip, eyes drifting to the floor.

“I didn’t bring my pillow.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. We’ll share mine.” He offered and grinned when you climbed into the covers, scooting as close to you as he possibly could.

“D.?” you whispered after a few minutes, snuggling into Mr. Cuddles.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He smiled, soft and sweet.

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” he whispered, looking at you through his lashes. And then. “You don’t have to be afraid, you know.” He mumbled, fingers laced with yours. “I’ll protect you from all the monsters.”

“Promise?” you asked in wide-eyed amazement.

“Promise.”

You nodded.

“I’ll protect you too, D.” you told him, voice laced with firmness. “I’ll always protect you.”

And you prayed to God that you’d always be able to keep that promise.

“Think they’ll end up like us?” Dean whispered softly into your ear after a while, eyes glued to the adorable couple that had caught your attention, and you hummed, lips curved up in a pensive smile.

“You mean hunting monsters and working with a two-bit tailor who sold his soul for an extra three inches below the belt?”

Amusement twinkled in Dean’s eyes and he laughed, breathy and loose. 

“No, smartass.” He replied, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I mean, dancing the horizontal tango like we do.”

Rolling your eyes, you scowled at him, but he pointedly ignored it, focusing on the little boy who picked up the plumeria flower that the girl had accidentally dropped to the sand.

“Poor kid.” Dean muttered, shaking his head, though there was a fragile smile blossoming in his voice as he spoke. “She’s got him wrapped up around her little finger already.” A chuckle. “Yeah, they’ll definitely end up like us.”

“Excuse me?” you implored, gapped-mouthed. “I so do not have you wrapped around my little finger.”

He smirked then, spread-armed shrug on full display.

“Kid, you managed to talk me into coming to a bonfire party with you. It’s pretty much safe to say you’ve officially ruined me.”

“I’m sorry, are you complaining?”

“Nope.” he replied, cupping your face with his large hands. “I mean, God knows you can be a major pain in the ass sometimes-”

“Hey!”

“—but I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He whispered and brushed his lips up against your own, all intimacy and glow, and yeah, if the way he kissed you like it was the first and the last time meant anything, then he was still so stupidly in love with you.

“So,” Dean started, licking his lips, “have you finally decided what we’re doing tonight?”

“Dean, I already told you I-”

“Nope. Staying in is not an option.” He chanted, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You just graduated high school. We’re totally celebrating that shit.”

“I don’t want to-”

“Don’t care.” He cut you off, shaking his head.

Sighing, you ran your fingers through your hair in frustration and glanced at him, eyes heavy and appraising.

“You really aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope.”

Deep breath.

Bottom lip pulled between your teeth in thought.

“Okay.” You started, clutching at his arm. “There’s one thing.”

“See? Now you’re talking.” He gushed, draping an arm over your shoulder, your body nestled against his side. “’M all ears.”

Shifting a little, your eyes drifted up to meet his, and you were suddenly nervous.

“How would you feel about going to an ice cream shop?”

“How would I –kid, that sounds awesome.”

“Yeah, but I… It’s in Hartford”

His jaw almost dropped to the floor.

“Hartford?”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.” You sassed, rubbing at your forehead.

“You do realize it’s gonna take us all night to get there, right?”

“I know but…” You shrugged your face tiredly. “Never mind.”

“No. Tell me.”

And you wanted to lie to him because, hell, it’d be the easiest thing to do, sweep the subject under the carpet like it never happened, but he was Dean, the person you knew you could always trust, the boy that had always been there for you, the one who didn’t need words to understand you and could heal your wounds without even slicing them open.

And, dammit, you couldn’t not tell him.

“It’s just… My, uh… My parents used to take me there when I was a kid. For my birthday.”

He nodded curtly then, jaw clenched and teeth gritted, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on floating across his face.

“Well,” he said, voice wavering just a bit, “I’ve always wanted to drive Baby all night.”

“D., you don’t have to-”

“Don’t even finish that sentence.” He cut you off, slipping his fingers through yours and gripping. “I want to get ice cream from Harford. It sounds delicious already.”

“Dean-”

“Just get in the car, Y/N.” He chortled, opening the passenger’s door for you. 

“Fine. Bossy bastard.” You grounded out, but he could see the smile you were so desperately trying to hide.

You fell asleep almost immediately. After all, that bubbly sense of overwhelming safety that floored you every time Dean was around along with the beer you’d been drinking earlier were enough to make you light-headed.

And still, when Dean pulled over at a gas station, and laid his worn-out leather jacket over your frame like a blanket, you snuggled closer to it, and when he dropped a kiss on your forehead, lips lingering on warm skin longer than necessary, you smiled, and when he whispered G’night, Chipmunk to you in the duskiness of the car, you let out a content sigh and took in the gruffness of his voice.

This was what being at home felt like.

Sighing, you looked up at Dean, memories swirling inside your head like a whirlwind as yellows, reds and oranges glinted across his face, bouncing on his forehead and on the strong line of his jaw, lighting up the curve of his lashes, his nose, that freckle on his lower lip that you’ve always found adorable.

And, even though you knew that he was a man who’s been to Hell, Heaven and everything in between, knew that the innocence that had once been there was now long gone, he reminded you so much of that little kid in Bobby’s yard, the one who used to let you stay with him whenever you had nightmares and sang his brother to sleep every night with a lullaby.

He reminded you of the young boy that had offered you your first drink, the one who carried you back to your bedroom when you fell asleep on the Impala.

He reminded you of the man that made you rice tomato soup whenever you were sick and held you close when the nights were too much to face alone, breaths and heartbeats fused together like you were one.

He reminded you of home.

“Hey. Hey.” Dean chanted, snapping his fingers. “Whatcha thinking about?”

You blinked.

The words waltzed right out of your tongue.

“Marry me.”

Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you let out a content sigh and snuggled closer to Dean, torso pressed up against his own as you played with his fingers absentmindedly.

It was a breezy spring night, brilliant silver stars dancing on the navy-blue sky and he’d surprised you by showing up at Bobby’s house unexpectedly and sneaking into your bedroom.

“Sam called today, you know.” You mumbled all of the sudden, voice soft as you glanced at him.

He tensed under you, body going rigid the moment the words left your mouth.

“Well. At least, he remembered someone’s birthday.”

And you knew he didn’t mean it, knew that he was just trying to swathe himself deeper into his armor so you wouldn’t see the cracks and slits in him, but the way he said it, the way he clenched his jaw soundlessly and narrowed his eyes made your entire soul ache.  

So, you sat up on the hood of the Impala and took his hand in yours.

“D., it’s not like that and you know it.” You objected, running circles over his knuckles gently.

He sighed then and dragged a hand down his face, then rubbed the back of his neck.

“’M sorry, that sounded –look, I’m glad he called. I just wish…” he swallowed loudly, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “God, I don’t even know.”

You nodded, biting on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

Your stomach plummeted.

“C’mere.” You whispered, spreading your arm open.

A murderous eyeroll.

“Don’t gimme that look, Winchester. ‘S my birthday, remember?”

Huffing out a quite dramatic breath, he eyebrowed you, all judgement and annoyance, and let his head drop on your lap.

“He misses you, you know.” You whispered after a while, fingers sinking into his short locks soothingly.

“He said that?”

“He didn’t have to. I’ve known that kid since he was in diapers, Dean. ‘S as plain as the nose on your face.” You retorted and he cracked a small, thankful smile.

Silence and then-

“Is he doing okay?” he asked, the gruffness of his voice a palpable proof of his concern.

You hummed in response, and ran your knuckles over his cheekbones.

“He’s fine. Still trying to fit in.” you said cautiously, making patterns with Dean’s freckles. You paused, thinking about something and-

“I think he’s seeing someone.”

“What? Like… Like a real girl?”

You snorted out a laugh.

“Yeah, D. Like a real girl.” You repeated wryly. “Her name’s Jess. He mentioned her a couple of times. Stumbled over his words a little.”

Dean chuckled at that, nuzzling your tight, and mumbled something that sounded awfully like that’s my boy under his breath.

You smiled.

You really couldn’t help it.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just… missed you, I guess.” You shrugged and he took a deep breath and sat up to face you, dragging his body close to yours until the two of you were woven together again, edges and limbs falling perfectly into place.

“Yeah,” he agreed, kissing the side of your head, “yeah, me too. Can I…” A nervous chuckle. “I’ve got a question.”

“Fire away.”

He cleared his throat, quietly.

“Last time we saw each other, you… You mentioned something about me going after the things-”

“You want. Yeah. I remember that.”

He smiled, almost too shy.

“D’you mean it?”

“’Course I meant it. Why?”

He swallowed.

His green eyes landed on your lips before flickering up to meet your Y/E/C ones.

When he spoke again, it was low and rugged, the words curling around his tongue.

“Because there’s something I really want to do right now. God, there’s something I’ve always wanted to do but I… I’m worried I might have to deal with your right hook.”

“Why?”

“Cause I want to kiss you.”

It came out scraped and wrecked, a breath of a sentence that was too honest and desperate to ignore, the shadowy meaning of it becoming tangible as he hooked a finger under your jaw and ducked in just a little, waiting for you to walk away, to stop him and laugh at his face.

“Kid, are you-”

“Yes, I’m… Yeah.” You breathed out, sliding a hand up his arm.

His orbs trailed the movement of your fingers and he beamed at you.

Ever so slowly, he dipped in and pressed his mouth against yours, testing the waters for one, two, three long seconds and then really went for it, with fingers threading in your hair and tongues dancing together, with soft touches and whimpers until you were a mess of delicate closeness and swollen lips right there, on the hood of the Impala.

When he broke the kiss off, he cupped the back of your head and pressed his forehead against yours, slanted grin playing at the corners of his lips.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose.

And you fell deeper in love with him.

“Y/N, did you just-”

“No. Listen.” You cut him off and put a hand on his chest, taking in the wide-eyed bemusement in Dean’s orbs. “I know it sounds crazy, right? I mean, we’re hunters and hunters don’t do shit like that. But…” you paused, running your thumb along his cheekbone, a soft smile gracing your features. “We make sense, D. We always made sense ever since we were kids and this-”

“Sweetheart-”

“What I’m feeling, it’s… I’m just so tired of letting the evil-”

“Sweetheart, will you-”

“The evil crap in our lives stop us from actually living it. And I know you’re not a really fan of-”

“Jesus Christ, will you shut up for just a second?” he chanted, crackly expression floating across his face. A sigh. Hand rubbing over his forehead. “I got… Uh, I got something for you.”

“You got…”

“Yeah,” he muttered and reached for his pocket. “Here.”

He handed you a small velvet box.

You snapped it open.

Your heart almost leapt to your throat.

“That’s a…” you chuckled a bit, mirthless and loose, smoothing a thumb over your brow. “Dean, there’s a diamond ring in here.”

He snorted at that, swaying a little on his feet.

“I’m aware, Sherlock. Don’t worry it’s not stolen.” He smirked, but the cheekiness melted almost immediately, giving way to something else, something a lot more fragile.

“What-”

“It’s been there for a while now because I… Well. I was kind of hoping you’d make one more stupid decision and say yes. So,” he said quietly and interlocked his fingers with yours, “what do you think? Wanna get hitched?”

Chuckling a chuckle that was painted with happy tears you’d never dare shed, you leaned closer, nose nudging against his.

“I dunno, Dean. I think your proposal needs a bit more work.” You teased, face so close to his that you could almost taste him.

“That so?”

“Uh-huh. But on the other hand,” you hummed, wrapping your arms around his waist, muscles and sinews smooth but solid under your touch, “Mrs. Winchester has a very nice ring to it.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, and I don’t think I can risk you changing your mind.”

He laughed at that, that real gruff laugh that was your favorite sound in the entire universe and pulled you closer, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Yeah, you really don’t have to worry about that.” He whispered, gaze dropping to your mouth for a second, softness and intensity shimmering into it. “You got me, kid.” He vowed, lips curled up in a brilliant smile.

And, God, when he kissed you, turning knees into liquid and hands into heat just from the way his lips moved against your own, you knew that this, that kiss, was yet another promise Dean was going to keep.

Because that was what he did.

Because he had no other choice.

Because, despite the demons and the monsters and the darkness, the two of you belonged.

There’s no need to complicate

Our time is short.

This is our fate,

I’m yours.

"Yesh, Winchester, quite a welcoming."

Dean lowered his gun with a small puff of relief, only to keep the baffled expression on his face. But a thin smile forged through. "What are you doing here? It's late, isn't your husband wondering where you are?" he sneered the word husband, always having had a strong distaste for the man.

"I left him," you began, grabbing the handles of your bags before dragging them along as you descended the stairs. "I'm moving in."

Dean let the information soak in a full second, before tripping over himself as he eagerly went to meet you on the stairs.

Startled by his sudden movements, you second-thought your decision. "If that's okay with you and Sam," you added, eyeing the eldest Winchester, wondering through your upset and tired haze that you'd become inconsiderate.

"No, yeah!" Dean mentally kicked himself over his response. "I just, uh, wanted to help with your bags," he offered, taking two off your arm, walking back down the stairs, mesmerized by your appearance at the bunker. "You're always welcome here. What happened, you, uh..." He stepped down the last step, staring up at you, unsure if he should ask what went wrong in your marriage.

You frowned, thinking about the fight with your husband; the lies, the tears. "He had another girl," you breathed out, having already dried yourself of tears during your trip over to the bunker.  

"Oh, Y/N," Dean began. "I am so sorry." Then the anger set in. "You want me to kick his ass?"

You smiled at Dean's offer. "Don't bother. I don't know where he went. Besides, I, um, already took care of it."

Dean offered a smile, imaging the hell you must've put him through as he began to led you through the bunker. "What'd you do, cut his dick off?"

"No, I came clean. Told him I was a hunter, well, showed him really. He had no idea what I'd hidden under our bed, in my car, the kitchen...And I told him that if I ever heard from him again, I'd treat him like the monster he truly is and gank him. He ran out of the apartment after that."

"Jesus, remind me never to piss you off." Dean led you down the hallway, traipsing to an open bedroom, which happened to be across from his. "Hey, nobody's used this room in a while, so it needs some sprucing, but I'll get you fresh sheets and other shit you may need-"

"It's perfect. Thank you, Dean." You dropped your bag, turning toward Dean to hug him.

Surprised, Dean accidentally bunked you with a bag, but it didn't deter you. You held on tight, unable to remember the last time you'd hugged your friend.

"Anytime."

"Hey," you heard Sam call. "who the hell are you hugging?"

Dean pulled away as you reluctantly dropped your arms, turning to have a front row seat to watch Sam's face light up at his realization.

"Y/N," Sam greeted, wrapping an arm around you. "What are you doing here? Have a case?"

"She's moving in," Dean said with a grin, ignoring the reason why.

"If that's alright," you added quickly, looking up at Sam. Sam nodded, hugging you again. You continued. "Well, I'm going to start getting settled. Thank you guys, so much." You turned and went inside the room, leaving the door open as you unzipped a bag, starting to sort your clothes.

Dean and Sam's eyes lingered on you. "What the hell happened?"

"Husband's a dick," Dean told, his voice low as not to upset you. "thinking of cutting his off."

Sam scoffed. "And the moment she comes running in here, you just happen to give her the room across from yours?" Sam hinted, speaking loud enough to allow you to eavesdrop on their conversation.

Dean shook his head. "She needs someone to keep an eye on her."

"Whatever you say, Romeo."

"Hey, Y/N," Dean called, ignoring his brother. "You want something to drink, take the edge off?"

"Anything would be great, thanks, Dean," you called back, sticking your head out the door.

Dean looked at him.

"Hey," Sam called after Dean, following behind. Dean slowed down slightly. "Don't let her marry anyone else this time."

Dean didn't respond, turning down the hall toward the Kitchen, leaving Sam behind.

"I brought the bottle." Dean, held up the scotch, entering your room a few moments later.

You smiled, watching Dean lift the bottle to one of the glasses in his opposing hand, and hand it off to you. Dean sat on the edge of your bed beside you, placing the bottle in the middle.

Taking a big gulp, the drink scratched the entire way down. "Ahh... just what I needed."

"I bet," Dean mumbled after he swallowed, looking down into his glass, swirling it as though to find something inside.

You did the same, glancing up momentarily to gaze at your friend in anything but a "friend" way. "So, how've you been?" You ask, breaking the silence.

"Fine. Saving people, hunting things," Dean's eyes glazed over with a promising thought. "You know, I killed Hitler."

You scoffed. "He's been dead."

Dean shook his head, "No, they put his soul into someone else's body. And let's just say, I shut that shit down."

"Wow, my hero," you teased. "Who's next, Mussolini? Stalin?"

"Nah, I've got my sights on a worse villain."

"Who?"

Dean didn't have to say anything for you to understand a second after. You smiled, unable to deny the appreciation the thought brought.

"He's a tool, but I'm not sure if he's worthy of Dean Winchester's wrath," you said, raising your glass to take another sip. The silence crept over your shoulders until you decided to speak. "I don't even know why I married him in the first place," you muttered into your drink, but Dean heard it perfectly clear. "To tell you the truth, I enjoy hunting with you guys more than playing housewife."

And you never did understand why you'd choose to marry a man when your heart never belonged to him.

"You're a fighter. You never needed him."

You nodded. "I just didn't want to be alone."

"You were never alone." You glance up at the sound of Dean's words. Your eyes bore into his green ones for a second before you glanced at Dean's lips, simultaneously leaning in toward the Winchester. But Dean with strained, leaning back, denying the kiss from proceeding.

Not knowing any better, you took his motion as a rejection. "I guess I'll never have you the way I need you."

"Y/N..." Dean began but found himself unable to express the meaning behind his withdrawal.

"You know what," you began, setting your drink on the nightstand and standing up. "I'm gonna go find a hunt."

Dean's head snapped up. "Now? It's late."

"So what?" It was a matter of fact as you rummaged through your duffle, picking out clothes that you wouldn't take. "It's not like you care."

But that wasn't the truth.

"Look, you shouldn't jump into anything. Relax for a couple of days, clear your-."

"Dean," your tone cut through his words, not allowing him to get to his main point, that he wanted to let you calm down before either of you made any advances toward the other. He wanted to make sure it was real, that he wasn't a quick rebound. "I just want to gank something; start a fight. I don't want to sit around thinking about how you don't like me that way, okay? I just want a distraction," you continued.

And like that, you were gone, taking whatever you'd previously packed in the single duffle bag along with you out of the bedroom.

"You dick," Dean whispered to himself, rubbing the brink of his nose, thinking of how he missed the perfect opportunity with you.

Dean knew your imidate snap had been his fault; his fear of allowing himself to be open to you. After all that he'd lost, he couldn't fear to lose you too by telling you how he truly felt. But now, he could lose you for a different reason.

Dean chased after you in the hall. Finding you not too far away. He didn't verbally call after you, but you stopped, staring at Dean, hurt etched in your eyes.

Dean let his actions speak for him as he grabbed your arm, pulling you into his kiss. And you didn't push him away.

It was intense. Dean kissed you long, and hard, as though making up for all the years he'd spent on the sidelines, watching you meet your future husband and then marry the man. After his actions had begun to make sense, you dissolved into the kiss, returning the gesture.

Dean maneuvered you against a bunker door, his hand dropping from your arm to land on your waist, exploring the curves he'd long to feel for years. As the other hand held your face, securing his place against your lips.

Someone cleared their throat awkwardly behind Dean. He didn't pull away but slowed his pace reluctantly. After another grunt from the mystery person, you were the one to pull away, with a small groan from Dean.

"Oh," you said, seeing Sam watching with an annoyed expression. "Is this-"

"My door that you decided to canoodle and contaminant against, yes it is." Sam finished, bitch face in full mode as he stared at both you and Dean.

"Sorry Sam," you apologized sheepishly, standing out of the way of the door.

Sam glanced at you and Dean again before disappearing into the room and slamming the door.

"Asshole," you hissed at Dean.

"But I'm your asshole," Dean cheekily smiled, leaning down for another kiss.

"Get a room!" Sam shouted from inside, producing laughter between you and Dean.

It wasn’t unusual for you to walk around in just a big t-shirt, which was exactly how you were dressed this morning, all bed hair and sleepy eyes. You patted into the kitchen barefoot, one hand ruffling through your knotty hair and the other pressed over your mouth to suppress your yawn.

You almost dove for the steaming cup of coffee that was standing there so inviting, on the table. You took a huge gulp, then noticed Dean sitting there with a scowl on his face.

“Mornin’ Dee.” you smiled tenderly at him, “That’s good coffee.” you put the cup down and patted his taut shoulder.

“Morning? It’s noon Sweetheart.” he curled his lip, “You shouldn’t mix drinks. I told you Jager was a bad idea.” He chuckled, a drop of coffee dribbling down his chin as he took a long sip.

“Haha.” you mouthed emptily, “don’t drink jager Y/N.” you said, mocking his voice, “Besides from what I can remember of last night. It was pretty fun.”

That’s when a deep rich laugh rumbled through his body, his green eyes sparkling as he looked at you, with your head on your folded arms flat on the table. Only when you narrowed your eyes at him, did his laughter die down and then he gestured to stove, “When you’re done being a tough guy, I made you some heart attack inducing food, so eat and there’s some advil in my room, which I’ll go get the moment your done eating.”

You grinned, looking at him with starry eyes, “Ugghh, you’re too good to me Winchester.” you huffed, trying to sit upright, without your head pounding, “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”

That’s when you heard it, along with Sam’s bellowing laughter. Your heart stopped.

“Oh god. What is that?” you asked, gulping in fear.

Dean shrugged, you could see he wanted to laugh. He was trying not to, “Just some video Sammy found on the internet, “Sammy!” he called, “show Y/N the video. I think she’ll dig it.”

“Sent it to your phone.” Sam called, “I don’t wanna be there when she kills you.”

Your heart was pounding in your ears, your palms were growing sweatier by the second as Dean scrolled through his phone, “What the hell did you do Dean? Because if it’s about the thing that happened in Chicago. You made a deal that you weren’t gonna mention it ever.”

He cleared his throat, a smirk tugged at his lips, “Oh Y/N, it’s a dozen times better than that. Besides, what happened in Chicago was between me and you. It is sacred. I wouldn’t want Sam to have that image of you in his head. It’s only for me.”

You gulped, just blinking at him in shock of his admission as you go to stand next to him so that you’re peering over his broad shoulders. Then you heard the intro of the song and people whistling and cheering. You mouth curled in distaste as Dean handed you his phone, “Oh god.” was all you could manage, your voice shaky and weak just like your knees.

There you were swaying your hips to Nsync’s greatest hit, your fingers were clasped around the mike and held flush against your lips as you belted out the lyrics vivaciously. You could hear Dean’s rough voice cheering you on jovially as Sam whistled and clapped his hands. Sam would have never allowed you to get onto the stage but he was just as drunk as you, from what you could see in the video. Last night was the first night Dean actually looked happy in, well, awhile.

You physically cringed when you watched yourself bust out the patent Bye Bye Bye dance moves, like you had been practicing for years. You had been but no one would ever know that. Ever. Dean’s laughter reverberated through the kitchen, tears forming at his eyes as you took a massive bow in front of the raving crowd and then yelled into the mike that you loved the ramen noodle looking dude.

The moment the video was over, uncontrolled giggles surged through your body, Dean’s laughter mingling with yours until you both were huffing and out of breath, tears rolling down your face.

“I used to think Becky was over enthusiastic about the whole fan girl thing but now that I’ve had the honor of seeing you, I have changed my mind.” Dean teased, his grin reaching his eyes as he straddled the bench so he could see you.

You smacked him on his arm playfully, “Hush Winchester, I’ve got better moves than you.” you scowled, with a smile on dancing on your lips.

His fingers crawled up your hand, until his hand settled in yours, a look passing between you both before he tugged you towards him. You gasped when you landed, your bodies pressed together as you settled in his lap. He ran his fingers over your forearms then lifted them onto his shoulders so you could hold him.

“So, of all of them you like the noodle head?’ Dean rolled his eyes and huffed.

“Yup. And his name is JT.” you nodded in admittance as your fingers drew patterns on the taut muscles of his shoulders.

“I think that would be a good look. Grow out my hair, dye it and we’ll have a winner.” he commented with all seriousness.

You furrowed your brows at him, your fingers stilling as you contemplated, then you began to sing, “Then, I wanna see you out that door. Baby, bye bye bye.”. You even accompanied the lyrics with the waving dance move.

Dean was laughing again and it made your heart do a flip flop. The rich rumbling sound was so infectious that you couldn’t help but join in.

“So Nsync forever?” he asked, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.

You were silent for only a moment. In that moment, you were mesmerized by the thousands of gorgeous freckles spattered across his face, the way his dense eyelashes curled and the shade of green his eyes were, it looked like no other color you had seen before. Like many things it authentically belonged to him.

If someone had to see you in this moment, you’d look exactly how they’d expect someone in love to look- starry eyes, a goofy grin and blushing cheeks. And you were totally okay with that. Completely and utterly okay with it.

“Nauuh, Dean Winchester forever.” You smiled, seeing his eyes light up as he hugged you closer to him, “I seem to have a thing for green eyed boys now. Plus, you kiss me now. I’ll do the thing from Chicago and even let you take pictures.”

The emotion radiating off of Dean had been almost palpable that night as you’d driven in silence back to your shared hotel room. Neither of you were able to look at each other as Dean threw the car in park. The shame of your deceit hung heavy over your heads as you’d sat, waiting for the other to move first. The weight became more than you’d been able to bear and you groped blindly for the door handle, practically throwing yourself out of the car.

You’d controlled yourself enough that you’d made it inside without running. Once inside, you’d headed straight for the bathroom, sliding the lock into place before cranking the shower as hot and you could stand it without your skin melting off. The mirror fogged almost instantly as you began stripping off the tarnished articles of clothing and standing underneath its steaming spray. Maybe if you could’ve just stood there long enough, the guilt would‘ve washed away, disappearing into the drain, never to be seen again. If only it could have been that easy. But it wasn’t.

Dean never came back inside that night. In a way you’d been glad for that, although you hadn’t been able to sleep worrying about him. Had he chosen to sleep in the car, favoring the familiar discomfort Baby’s bench seats had to offer over having to face you? You’d prayed he had; the idea of him finding solace in the arms of a random town girl had made your blood boil.

You should have hated yourself for what you’d done. You should’ve been wallowing in your shame until the guilt was too much to bear and burdened, restless sleep overtook you. Instead you’d lain awake, seething jealousy coursing through your veins at the thought of Dean with another woman. What the hell was wrong with you? It wasn’t enough to betray Sam by fucking his brother in the bathroom of a dive bar. No, add ‘having feelings for said brother’ to the list. It was like you’d been competing with yourself to see just how shitty of a person you could be.

The door to the hotel swung open just as the first rays of morning sun had begun filtering through the curtains. You blinked, apparently having finally fallen asleep at some point through the night. When you’d looked up, you found Dean moving silently through the room collecting his things and jamming them into a duffle bag. Quickly closing your eyes just enough to feign sleep, you’d still been able to peek out through the small slits you’d left. Dean zipped his bag shut, threw it on the bed across from you and sat down. His features were drawn and his eyes were sad as he sat, watching you sleep. You’d been surprised when he scrubbed a hand across his face and sniffed. Had he been crying? That had been more than you could handle.

You blinked and sat up, trying to make it look as though you hadn’t just been spying on him. You’d watched as his eyes grew wide with surprise and he’d shifted uncomfortably as though he would stand.

“Dean, please don’t go.” Your voice was ragged and broken sounding. He froze and his eyes met yours. Whatever he’d found there was enough and he settled back in.

The two of you had sat looking at each other for a long time, almost willing the other to speak first.

“Y/n…” Dean’s tone was pleading as he’d trailed off, not sure what he was even asking for. He looked away, unwilling to meet your gaze.

“You never came back in last night.” You’d been surprised to find you sounded disappointed. This had apparently caught Dean’s attention too and he looked at you, studying your face.

“I just figured it was for the best.”

“Where did you go?” You’d made a conscious effort to not let the jealousy that had consumed you most of the previous night show. It hadn’t worked, you noted as Dean’s eyes narrowed at you, confusion dancing across his face.

“Why would you care?”

His sharp tone may have worked on someone else, but you’d known this man well enough to read it for what it was. It was a mask. Dean had always had a way of hiding his emotions behind a stern look and a shit ton of bravado. Most of the time it worked. Today, you didn’t even flinch.

“I don’t know Dean, but apparently I do.” You sounded tired. “I should have felt so guilty for what we did last night, but instead the only thing that I could seem to focus on was where you were and who you might be with.” You laughed humorlessly. “I am the worst person in the world.”

“Hey, don’t do that. It wasn’t your fault. What happened back there...I should feel bad about it. I should hate myself for what we did. But I don’t.”

Dean’s gaze was intense and unwavering. A flush of heat pulsed through your body and you made yourself look away, afraid of what you might do next.

“Tell me you don’t feel the same way, y/n. Say the word and I will back off. But I had a lot of time to think last night, and if there is even the slightest chance that you feel the same way I do…” Dean trailed off again before licking his lips and looking down at his feet.

“What about Sam? It’s not fair to him. And it’s not fair to you. I just can’t Dean. I can’t sit around hurting the two men I lo…” you’d caught yourself mid-thought and you’d tried to play it off, but it was obvious he’d drawn his own conclusions by the way his pupils dilated and his chest swelled. “The two most important men in my life.”

Dean stayed so still you’d thought he’d fallen asleep. When he stood abruptly, you’d jumped and your heart had raced. He’d spun around deftly before planting himself on the edge of your bed. He reached to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes before brushing his knuckles across your cheek. You’d leaned into his touch and a small voice in your head chastised you, but it had been drowned out by the trail of goosebumps that his knuckles left in their wake.

“I know. You're right. But I can't get you out of my head.” You gulped as Dean lowered his face closer to yours. “You are so beautiful, y/n.”

Then his lips had been on yours and you’d hesitated, but only for a moment before you’d molded your body against his and opened your mouth to deepen the kiss.

In that moment, as you’d poured yourself into that kiss, a switch had flipped in your mind. You’d made a decision that you hadn't even realized at the time and one that would change your life forever; a choice that you would hate yourself for later. You’d decided not to choose.

-----

It has been over a month since you got back from hunting with Dean. As far as you can tell, Sam doesn't suspect anything, but the guilt has been eating you up inside. This is it, you think, gathering up all the resolve you can muster.

You round the last corner and the thin line of light emanating from underneath Dean's door is partially obstructed just before the door cracks open. You slip quietly into his room, closing it behind you.

You turn around and before you can react, Dean’s hands are on you. His mouth covers yours as he backs you up toward his bed and the backs of your legs hit the mattress. You press your palms against his chest, pushing him back. He looks at you, confused.

“What's the matter, sweetheart?” He runs his fingertips up and down your arms.

“Dean, I just...I just don't know that I can do this anymore.” You collapse on the bed as you struggle to push back the tears threatening to break free. Dean kneels in front of you, his green eyes are wide with an emotion you can't quite name. He takes your hands in his, his thumbs rubbing small circles against your skin.

“What's wrong?”

“What's wrong?!” You gape at him as anger grips you. “What's wrong?! What about this isn't wrong, Dean? Your brother is asleep just down the hall. Remember him? My boyfriend? Sam?”

Dean stands, dropping your hands as though he'd been burnt. He's hurt. You can see it on his face and you regret snapping at him, but part of you wonders if it is for the best. Maybe if he gets angry enough…

“I love you, y/n.” Dean blurts out. You look up at him, shocked. His gaze is fixed on you and you can't handle the intensity so you look away again.

Neither of you had used that word. It was always there, waiting to be spoken; it lurked around like a lion stalking its prey, waiting to devour whatever this thing was between the two of you. You’d known that once it was said it would change everything. And now in the charged silence that filled the room, you know you were right.

There had been times when you'd lain, curled into Dean's side, pretending for a brief moment that what you'd just done wasn’t wicked or shameful. You would lay there silently relishing his nearness while he stroked your bare arm and you would let your mind wander. You would think about what your life would be like if things had gone differently so long ago; if you’d stayed with Dean and never fallen for Sam. What would it feel like to hear Dean utter those three tiny words to you?

It feels like a slap in the face. Something that should be so pure and so good should make your heart soar; it shouldn't make you feel like you want to throat punch the person saying it. Yet here you are, crying and angry as hell.

“Seriously, Dean?”

“What?” He looks confused and that only makes you more mad.

“How can you say that to me? Why now?” You stand, wanting to scream but afraid to wake Sam up. You march over to him, poking your finger in his chest. “I tell you I can't do this and you decide now is the time to say that to me? As if I don't feel guilty enough as it is.”

“What do you want from me?” He grabs your wrist, removing your finger from his chest, his face inches from yours. His emerald eyes search yours, anger vibrating through both of you. Between his scent, the feel of his fingers wrapped around your wrist and his closeness, your senses are overwhelmed and you lunge for him.

His mouth is on yours in a hard press of flesh before his tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth. He releases your wrist and grabs your hips roughly. His hands knead the their way down your ass before gripping your thighs and lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he catches your bottom lip between his teeth. He takes a few steps before dropping you on his bed.

He rips his shirt off and pushes his pants down his hips before crawling on the bed and settling between your legs.You scratch and claw at his bare skin as his lips and teeth dance across the sensitive skin at your neck. His hard length presses against your clothed mound and you shift your hips desperate for friction, drawing a growl from his chest.

Dean lifts off of you enough so you can shimmy out of your pajama pants and panties, discarding them and your socks at the foot of the bed.

He settles on top of you again and you gasp as he brushes against your bare core. He kisses a path down your neck as he plunges two fingers into you, scissoring them before gliding out and pushing in again. He sets a fevered pace, knowing exactly what to do to make your body pulse. His thumb circles your clit a few times and you come undone under his touch, biting his shoulder to muffle your cries.

You have barely come down from your high when he is gliding himself through your slick and slamming into you, roughly. He pauses briefly, allowing you to adjust slightly before withdrawing and driving in again. His hips snap with every thrust and you lift your hips to match his rhythm. You slip a hand between your bodies, rubbing furiously at your sensitive clit. You feel his thighs shake and soon you are both falling over the edge together, as your walls clench around him and his hips still, emptying himself inside you.

He collapses on top of you, your breaths ragged. This is not how tonight was supposed to go. Something inside of you knew that it would always end up like this, although you'd hoped it would be different this time.

You shove at his shoulder, scrambling to get off the bed. Dean doesn't say anything as you get dressed. You make the mistake of looking at him before you open the door; his cheeks are tear stained and his eyes are full of pain. A lump rises in your throat and you force yourself to look away.

You turn the door knob, throwing yourself into the hall and straight into a solid wall of muscle. Your eyes roll up to find a pair of concerned hazel ones staring back at you as Sam’s large hands grip your shoulders.

“Y/n?”

Read Part 5 here

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags (I love you guys - stay weird!):

@wheresthekillswitch​ @arryn-nyxx​ @emilywritesaboutdean​ @fandommaniacx​ @cookie-dough-lova​ @spnfanficpond​ @impandagrl​ @maddieburcham1​ @trexrambling​ @27bmm​ @beachballsizeladyballs​ @hannahindie​ @rosie-winchester​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @that-writer-one​ @amionthetumbler​ @abbessolute @melissaj616​ @fandomismyspiritanimal​ @angelsandwinchesters​ @cfordwrites​ @zenia3​ @charliebradbury1104​ @9769997118​ @mogaruke​ @luulaachops​ @supernaturaldean67​  @barbedwireandbubblegum​ @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son​ @muliermalefici

Don’t Speak Tags:

@kathaswings​ @flirtswithdanger​ @smalltowndivaj @alexastacio​

SPN Fanfic Pond Tags (Sam):

@manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​ @purgatoan​ @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​ @blushingsamgirl @notnaturalanahi​ @bkwrm523 @roxy-davenport​ @impala-dreamer​ @samsgoddess​ @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1​ @for-the-love-of-dean​ @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173​ @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf​ @deansleather​ @curliesallovertheplace​ @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname​ @waywardjoy​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @captain-princess-rose​ @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious​ @kayteonline​ @supernatural-jackles​ @wevegotworktodo​ @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey​ @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh​ @supermoonpanda​ @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki​ @deanwinchesterforpromqueen​ @chaos-and-the-calm67​ @memariana91​ @teamfreewill-imagine​ @chelsea-winchester​ @fandommaniacx​ @revwinchester​ @ageekchiclife​ @your-average-distracted-waffle @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1​ @supernaturalyobessed​ @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel​ @winchester-writes​ @deals-with-demons​ @maraisabellegrey  @faith-in-dean​ @winchestersmolder​ @bohowitch @clueless-gold @melbelle45​ @winchester-family-business​ @writingbeautifulmen​

SPN Fanfic Pond Tags (Dean):

“Come on in, Sam. I just made some spaghetti. It’s not fancy, but it isn’t take out.” Sam’s dimples deepened.

“You are the best!”

The rest of the night was spent eating, discussing the case, and drinking beer. You had forgotten how much you’d enjoyed spending time with the youngest Winchester, his presence in your small kitchen was a welcome addition.

You cleared the table, and Sam set to washing the dishes, both of you wordlessly fell into an easy rhythm. You dried the last plate and set it in the cabinet. A smile crossed your face as you shut the door.

When you turned around your breath caught in your throat. Sam's large hands came to rest on each side of your body, his muscled arms caged you against the counter.  His hazel eyes drifted lazily from your eyes to your mouth, as he dragged his teeth across his full bottom lip. Your head spun partially from the alcohol, but largely because Sam’s hulking frame was pressed so close to yours, his scent overwhelmed your senses.

When he kissed you, it surprised both of you. You’d known the Winchesters for years - laughed, hunted, and mourned together - and aside from the regrettable dalliance with Dean, there had always been an unspoken understanding that you were off limits from each other. Yet there you stood, fingers twisted into Sam’s long brown locks, your tongues glided purposefully against each others, sharing breath as you desperately pressed your bodies closer together.

Sam pulled back slightly, his hooded eyes searched yours as you sucked in a breath.

“Sam.” His name was an urgent, whispered plea from your lips and it was all the permission he needed to crash his lips against yours again. His nimble fingers worked the fabric of your shirt up and he pulled back long enough to yank it over your head and toss it aside. His mouth found yours again, and then traveled down the column of your neck, peppering kisses and nips and licks across your skin. Your hands moved to the front of his shirt, hurriedly popping the buttons and pushing it off his broad shoulders, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

Sam wrapped his hands around your waist and drew your body to press against his. A flash of heat rippled through your body when you felt his hardened length, trapped beneath his jeans, against your stomach. He flattened his palms against your hips before gliding over the curve of your ass and down the backs of your thighs. He lifted your effortlessly, his strong arms shifted to support your weight as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He turned to set you down on the kitchen table. His large hand cupped your breast before he slipped his long fingers under the edge of your bra, the pads of his fingers brushed against your sensitive skin. You gasped as he rolled the hardened tip between his thumb and forefinger. His free hand slid to your back, unhooked the clasp of your bra and pulled it from your body, his mouth roamed over the newly exposed flesh. Your hips ground against Sam’s, groaning at the sensations his mouth lavished upon your pert nipple.

Sam lifted his head, his eyes darkened with desire as he tugged at your thin lounge pants and pulled them down your legs along with your panties. He urged you to lay back by pressing gently against your shoulders. His fingertips trailed  across the outline of your body, his gaze drank you in.

“You are so beautiful, y/n.”

Sam nudged your knees apart and moved to stand between them. Sparks rippled across your skin as he dragged his nails lightly, but painfully slowly from your knees back up toward your throbbing core.

One long finger stroked your folds, you gasped and arched your back in response. Sam growled and repeated the motion, applying only faint pressure. The tip of one digit teased your entrance as his thumb found your clit and rubbed slow circles. You threw your head back, a string of incoherent curses and moans bubbled from your lips.

You glanced down the length of your body, surprised to see he’d gone to his knees without missing a beat. The top of Sam’s head was nearly at eye level. He met your gaze with a heated glint in his hazel eyes before he leaned forward and nipped the inside of your right thigh. You moaned in response and he repeated the action on the other side. He continued to nibble and kiss as he slid one finger inside you. After a few pumps he added a second finger, scissoring them and groaning when your walls clenched around him. When his tongue lapped at your clit, you nearly jumped out of your skin, your hips bucked and met the thrusts of his fingers.

He smoothed his free hand up your thigh and over your stomach before it came to rest on your breast, he pinched your nipple and twisted gently. You moaned his name as the sensations overwhelmed you. It spurred him on and he moaned against you as he pumped his fingers faster. He flicked his tongue hard against your tiny bundle and you came, screaming and clutching handfuls of his long chestnut hair. He whispered encouragingly against your mound as you rode out your high.

He stood, towering over you and you blushed at the way his chin glistened in the light. You covered your face with the crook of your arm as you gasped for air. You looked up just as he leaned down, and kissed you gently.

“I have wanted to do that since I met you,” Sam said as he pulled back, and traced your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.

“Sam, please?” You shimmied your hips against him and he groaned as he straightened. You sat up, and ran your fingertips under the waist of his boxers, clawing at his ass before you shoved them down along with his jeans. Sam’s cock bobbed and without a second thought you had leaned down, and closed your lips around him, quickly swirling your tongue against his head.

“Fuck, y/n!” Sam’s voice was harsh when his hands tangled in your hair. You rolled your eyes up the hard lines of his body, transfixed by the way his chest rose and fell.

One of your hands wrapped around the base of his length and stroked him languidly, while the other gently massaged his balls. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked, drawing a growl from him. Using the grip he had on your hair he pulled your head back. When his cock popped from your swollen lips, the sound was nearly obscene.

His fingers dug into your hip as he gripped you tight and pulled you to the edge of the table. You reached for him, and ran his velvet head through your slick before you lined him up with your entrance. He covered your hand with his own and stilled your movement. He rested his forehead against the curve of your neck with a sigh.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was low and when it vibrated against your ear it sent shockwaves through your body. He lifted his head and his eyes searched yours. You smiled before you wrapped your free hand around his neck and pulled his lips to yours.

“You won’t.”  

“Lie back,” he said against your lips, one hand shifted to your back as he guided you down.

A quick breath helped steady his nerves and he gripped your hip again. He pushed into you slowly, stopping halfway as your body stretched around him and adjusted to his length. You breathed deeply and rolled your hips ever-so-slightly, an invitation for him to continue. The feel of him inside you was incredible and you cried out as your pelvic bones met. Sam froze, one large hand cupped the side of your face, concern wrinkled his brow.

“Sam, it feels so good. Please? Move!” you dug your nails into his shoulder with a whine.

With hesitation, he pulled out almost completely before sliding in again. A few more slow thrusts and you were about to lose your mind. You rolled your hips urging him on. He grabbed one of your legs and placed it over his hip. He trailed kisses down your neck before he picked up speed.

Moans and curses flowed between you as he drove into you. A familiar heat built in your belly as you rocked your hips against him. Your arms snaked around his back and you pressed him as close as possible to you, while he continued his fevered pace.

Every drag of his length along your walls sent sparks through you, the base of him brushed against your clit with each drive of his hips.

“Sam! Oh...god….ohhh…yes.” You threw your head back. When his teeth grazed against that sweet spot behind your ear, that was it. You clenched around him as your orgasm exploded from your core and splintered through your body. You shouted his name over and over as your release rippled through you.

Sam fucked you harder, chasing his own release until he grunted, and you felt him cum inside you. His body went rigid for a moment before he collapsed on top of you.

The kiss that followed was different than it had been before, and you knew when he pulled back that something had changed between you.

You went to bed that night with his large body draped across yours. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. The sound of his light snore was almost deafening to you as a pang of guilt washed over you. You brushed the thought aside quickly. He didn’t need to know about you and Dean. It would only put a rift between the brothers that was unnecessary.  

That night was the beginning of it all. Soon, you and Sam had become inseparable and moving into the bunker had seemed like the most logical next step. Days were spent studying lore and researching cases, while the nights were spent in each other’s arms. The days and nights turned into weeks. The same insipid thought lulled you to sleep every night. Dean.

Of course a relationship with Sam meant a considerable amount of time spent with Dean. You’d been worried that things would be uncomfortable with him, but you’d been pleasantly surprised to find you were wrong. So much so, that you’d begun to wonder if your triste had even been real.

In fact things were so relaxed with Dean, that as the weeks turned into months, the two of you fell into an easy friendship filled with laughter and inside jokes. Any thought of what had happened so long ago faded into nothing more than a distant memory.

That is, until two weeks ago. Jody had called asking for Sam’s help on some case up north. Dean had just returned from a hunt with Castiel and had gotten a little banged up. He said he wanted to hang back at the bunker, take a day or so to recover.

The morning you and Sam had planned to leave you woke up feeling like shit. He’d insisted you stay and get some rest, despite your fervent protests to the contrary. Long story short, you’d lost and wound up in you and Sam’s bed, buried neck deep in a sea of blankets. For the entire day you barely moved, except for the occasional bathroom break. You spent the day alternating between catching up on the newest episodes of a British murder mystery show you enjoyed and napping.

A knock at the door startled you from your binging and you sat up and paused the show before glancing at the clock. It was later than you’d thought. The door swung open and Dean stumbled through. You smiled warmly at your friend, his cheeks were rosy and the smell of whiskey lingered on his breath as he got close.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Don’t you ‘hey’ me, y/n.” You frowned at him, confused.

“What crawled up your ass, Winchester?”

“Nothing, but I know what’s been up yours!” His words were sloppy and he rocked back on his heels, nearly losing his balance before gripping the edge of the bed.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Your head hurt and having to deal with this mess did not seem like the rest and relaxation Sam had had in mind when he’d left that morning.

“I am talking about you and that asshole brother of mine,” he narrowed his eyes at you, flicking one finger back and forth between you. “I am talking about you and I.”

Read Part 2 HERE

My Forever Tags (I Love You Guys!): @wheresthekillswitch @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @spnfanficpond @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @27bmm @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @a--fangirls--simple--addiction @amionthetumbler @abbesolute 

SPN Fanfic Pond Tags (Sam): @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @purgatoan @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @blushingsamgirl @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @samsgoddess @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @captain-princess-rose @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @revwinchester @ageekchiclife @your-average-distracted-waffle @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean​ @winchestersmolder​ @bohowitch @clueless-gold​ @melbelle45​ @winchester-family-business​ @writingbeautifulmen​

“What?”

“Are we going to talk about last night?”

He whirled around, his mouth set in a grim line and an unreadable emotion filled his eyes. The muscles in his forearms twitched as his nostrils flared. You took a shaky breath and tried hard to steady your nerves.

“What do you want me to say?” His words had an edge and he drew each one out, as though he was trying, and failing, to remain calm.

You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come. This was exactly what you’d been dreading since you and Sam had gotten together. Obviously Dean had tried to gloss over it again, but damn you and your need for closure.

“Do you want me to apologize? Because I’m not going to.” He placed his hands on the counter in front of him and sighed. “Look, I probably went about it all wrong. Hell, no probably about it. But I meant what I said. I am sick of pretending that I am ok with this whole fucked up situation.”

“I didn’t know you were pretending. I thought everything was fine, Dean. If I’d known there was something that needed to be fixed between us…”

“There’s no fixing it, y/n.” He pushed himself up from the counter and turned his back to you again. He flipped the pancakes onto a plate and switched the griddle off before he tossed the spatula into the sink angrily.

“Dean, I don’t understand what is happening here.” He whirled and crossed the room in a few short strides before he stopped in front of you.

“What don’t you understand?” he growled. “I didn’t hear from you for months after you left. Then when I finally see you again, I find out you’ve been screwing my brother. And that isn’t enough, no you have to go and move in and I’m left to watch you two together every fucking day. And every day I pretend like it isn’t eating me up inside. But I can’t do it anymore.”

You stared at him incredulously, anger vibrated through you until it felt like every nerve was on fire and you’d explode.

“You didn’t hear from me!? I didn’t hear from you either! Last time I checked phones worked both ways. And we both left, Dean. We both went our separate ways. I was a one time, wham, bam, thanks for the orgasm event. I thought it was what you wanted.” You ground your teeth together in an attempt to get your emotions in check.

“I did!” He shouted and it startled you. His voice was soft when he spoke again. “I thought I did. I thought staying away was best for you; I thought it might keep you safe. I am tired of people I care for getting hurt. But then when Sam told me about the two of you…I thought I could get past it. But I was wrong.”

“Dean, you’ve had plenty of time to say something before now and you said nothing. Why? Why now? What’s changed?”

“The case Cas and I worked in Tulsa this past week. It was a witch. She cast a spell on me, a truth spell.” Dean sighed as his eyes dropped to the floor. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “It made my deepest most suppressed thoughts bubble up and once that shit’s loose, you can’t shove it back down.”

You were speechless again. Dean’s admission had knocked the wind out of you and the last several months flashed through your mind, now viewed through a very different lens. The silence had grown as you stood and neither of you moved. Neither of you knew what to say. Dean cleared his throat. The sound shook you from your thoughts.

“Look, I don’t plan on telling Sam or trying to come between the two of you in anyway. But I just…I can’t be your friend any more. I can’t be that close to you anymore with these thoughts and…and…feelings…” he cringed at the use of the last word.

If you’d thought his words before were a blow, these had been a kick to the face and you cursed yourself as tears poured hot and wet down your cheeks. Dean swallowed hard and reached his hand out as if to comfort you, but you recoiled from his touch.

“Y/n.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. You shook your head and turned to head back to your room. You slammed the door and flopped on the bed.

You and Dean dodged each other the following few days. You both hid out in your rooms. You’d been mostly successful, having only passed him in the hallway. Neither of you made eye contact or spoke a word.

Sam called every night to check in and every night after you hung up the phone, you would let the tears roll down your cheeks. You missed him. At least in the past when he’d been gone, you’d had Dean to talk to or watch movies with. Not this time. You felt so alone and the pain was almost unbearable.

After four nights of crying yourself to sleep you’d decided you needed to bring in the reinforcements. You sucked in a mouthful of air to steel your nerves and  gripped the doorknob. You flung open the door and stepped out determinedly into the hallway. This was your home too, and you were done pussy-footing around. If you wanted a drink before bed, by God, you would have a drink before bed.

As you made your way to the kitchen, the sound of dishes rattling made you pause. You shook your head and lifted your chin. Dean was drying the last glass and he placed it on the shelf beside him as you rounded the corner. You saw his shoulders twitch once as your footsteps echoed off the tiled walls, but he said nothing. He reached into the sink and pulled out the drain stopper as the sound of water being sucked back through the pipes filled the room. He wrung out the dishrag, before he scrubbed it across the surface of the counter. He folded it neatly and laid it next to the sink.

You walked to the shelves behind the door and retrieved the bottle of rum you’d stashed there. You glanced sideways at Dean as you made your way to the fridge in search of the Coke. His back was still to you, as he placed his palms on the sides of the sink and rested his weight into them. His head drooped down between his shoulder blades. You grabbed a can from inside the door and shut it again before you set it on the island along with the rum.

The only thing missing was a glass. You took a deep breath and turned to get a glass from the shelf just as Dean spun around. You both froze. Your eyes darted everywhere around the room except for each other. You moved to your right just a Dean took a step that mirrored your own. He stepped to the other side as you did the same. You sighed in unison and forced your eyes to meet his. His tongue darted out from between his lips nervously and he raked his teeth across his bottom lip. He looked away and flung an arm to one side as a signal for you to go first.

As you approached the shelf, you groaned. The glass you wanted was on a shelf just out of your reach. You puffed your cheeks out and winced.

“Hey Dean?” Your voice was weak and you clenched your eyes shut as you turned toward him.

He didn’t say a word as he came to stand next to you. He knew exactly what you needed and reached above your head.  He held the glass out to you and you saw the muscle in his jaw twitch as he waited for you to take it.

“Thank you.” Your hand closed around the tumbler and your fingertips brushed against his. He jerked his hand back. Your grip faltered and the glass crashed to the ground. The sound rang out through the otherwise empty bunker.

Frustrated, you reached down trying to collect the larger shards. Your balance shifted and you started to fall forward. You caught yourself with one hand against the jagged edge of the broken glass.

“Shit!” Dean’s fingers wrapped around your wrist as you cried out in pain. He pulled your palm closer to examine the cut. “I’m sorry, y/n.” His voice was calm, but filled with guilt.  You jumped as his fingers feathered over your skin to assess the damage. “I don’t think you need stitches; let’s get you washed up.”

He guided you to the sink, fidgeting with the taps until the water was just the right temperature. Then, gently, he placed your hand under the running water. Your blood swirled with the water in the sink, briefly tinting it pink. He grabbed a clean towel and pressed it gingerly against the cuts. His gaze flicked up to yours.  He darted his eyes away and released your hand.

“I think you just need a bandage. There are some in the first aid kit. I’ll take care of cleaning this up.” He turned and you placed your good hand on his arm. He flinched as his emerald eyes shifted to meet yours again.

“Hey, I heard a crash. Is everything ok?” Sam’s deep timbre startled both of you. You dropped your hand and turned toward the sound of his voice.

“You’re home!” A wide smile split across your face as you practically leapt into his arms.

“It’s good to see you too, baby. What happened?” He pulled back to inspect your hand.

“I dropped a glass and cut my hand, no big deal.” You shrugged.

“Well, let’s get you fixed up, huh?” His large hand closed around your small one as he led you out the door and down the hallway.

—-

Having Sam home made everything feel okay again. You fell back into your usual routines, and you hoped the change between you and Dean wasn’t too obvious.

“Did something happen last week? While I was gone?” Sam’s breath tickled your ear as you lay against him, your fingers traced lazy circles through the sparse patches of hair on his chest. You blinked, grateful your face was turned away from him.

“Hmm?” You hummed and placed a kiss just above his heart. You looked up at him questioningly. His hazel eyes shone with concern and he reached to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I don’t know. Dean has just been acting strange since he got back from Tulsa. I just wondered if he mentioned anything to you about what happened on that case.”

You sighed inwardly as guilt twisted your gut. You hated this. You knew you shouldn’t keep secrets from him, but what good would it do if you’d told him that night so long ago? There was no happy ending here.

“He mentioned something about a witch.” It isn’t a lie, exactly, but a little voice in the back of your head reminded you that omission was betrayal. You placed your ear to Sam’s chest again and listened to the sound of his breath. He wrapped his long arm around your shoulders and adjusted the blanket over you.

“That could do it. He hates witches.” Sam sighed. “I just worry about him. That’s all.” He planted his lips against the top of your head and reached to turn off the lamp on the side table. “Night baby.”

You stared into the pitch black room, wrapped in the arms of the man you love and you hated every fiber of your being.

Read Part 3 HERE

My Forever Tags (I Love You Guys!): @wheresthekillswitch @arryn-nyxx @emilywritesaboutdean @fandommaniacx @cookie-dough-lova @spnfanficpond @impandagrl @maddieburcham1 @trexrambling @27bmm @beachballsizeladyballs @hannahindie @rosie-winchester @winchesterprincessbride @a–fangirls–simple–addiction @amionthetumbler​ @abbesolute @melissaj616​ @fandomismyspiritanimal​ @angelsandwinchesters​ @cfordwrites @zenia3 @charliebradbury1104

Don’t Speak Tags: @kathaswings​ @flirtswithdanger

SPN Fanfic Pond Tags (Sam): @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @purgatoan @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @blushingsamgirl @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @samsgoddess @frenchybell @scorpiongirl1 @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @captain-princess-rose @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @revwinchester @ageekchiclife @your-average-distracted-waffle @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean​ @winchestersmolder​ @bohowitch @clueless-gold​ @melbelle45​ @winchester-family-business​ @writingbeautifulmen​