Dean Winchester never thought he’d enjoy semi-retirement this much. In fact, until a few years ago, he never thought he’d retire at all, let alone live long enough to even consider it. But here he is… part-time mechanic, part-time hunter, full-time husband. Yep, husband. Dean Winchester not only met a girl he liked so much he threw his Playboy ways to the wind, but he actually married her. It was like when, suddenly, he was met with parts of a life he’d never thought he’d have, something finally clicked into place. He bought the ring, he bought the house, and he got down on one knee right there in the front yard, sold sign still swaying in the wind, and asked you to marry him, promising that if you did him the honor of saying yes that the house was yours and so was a new life. You said yes before he was even done talking. That was over 2 years ago now, and he couldn’t be happier… Well, most of the time.

He stands in your shared bedroom, looking into the mirror awkwardly. Pointedly, he flexes his shoulders, then his arms, trying to adjust himself, but something just doesn’t feel right. Furrowing his brow, he steps closer to the mirror and tugs at the cotton hugging his torso. It looks different, too. The way it's stretching in certain places is unfamiliar for a shirt he’s owned longer than he’s even known you.   

Is my shirt getting tight? 

His hands find the hem of the shirt and pause before pulling it upward, cautiously, as if he almost doesn't want to look. 

Dean can’t deny the way he’s aged. The crinkles around his eyes are more pronounced than they once were, the grays he’s secretly been plucking out of his beard, the ache in his back when he wakes up in the morning, despite it being a real bed rather than a shitty motel mattress. But this is something different. He inspects his abdomen both in the mirror and by looking downward. And that's when he sees it, his skin littered with scars and moles you love to trace now softly curving in a way it never has before. 

At first, he’s confused; he’s always been lean, he didn’t even have a chubby phase the way his little brother Sam did when they were kids. But it only takes him a second to realize what's going on. Between your home-cooked meals and sweets, the decreased time hunting and physically fighting all things supernatural, and his age, Dean Winchester has grown himself a little tummy. 

He blushes for a second before catching himself in the act, furrowing his eyebrows again. Since when did he care about looking a certain way? Since when did he care about stuff like this at all? He certainly has never cared about his women having little tummies or even more than little tummies; more to love was always his philosophy. So why was he standing here, suddenly bothered by the change in his own form? 

“Dean! What are you doing?! We have to go!” 

Your words unexpectedly scare him, making him jolt. He flushes deeper, thanking god you didn’t walk in on him, and quickly pulls his shirt back into place. He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair before calling back.

“Putting my shoes on now! Be there in a second!” 

Dean stumbles around debating on changing into something different, but he knows you both are running late already, so against his better judgment, he quickly finds his shoes and gets them on before going to meet you downstairs. 

The two of you are supposed to be having dinner with Bobby, Sam, and Sam’s new girlfriend tonight, and you’re waiting at the door for Dean to head to the restaurant. You’re excited to finally have a girl around that can relate to dealing with the craziness of loving a Winchester. 

You groan impatiently, about to call out for him again, more urgently this time, when he finally comes jogging down the stairs. “Finally! We’re going to be late, we gotta go!”   

“I know, I know, I’m sorry I got distracted…” Dean sighs, grabbing his coat and throwing it on.  

But you know this man too well, and he definitely seems more than a little distracted. 

“You okay?” You ask him suddenly, trying to stay casual but knowing something is up. 

“Yeah, yeah… I’m good, just- uh running behind.” Dean says, brushing it off, never meeting your gaze.

You’re not convinced, and usually you’d stop him in his tracks and figure it out, but due to the time crunch, you decide it will have to wait until later. 

Dean pulls ‘Baby,’ the 1967 Impala, into the restaurant’s parking lot 2 minutes after you were already supposed to be there, so when you enter the restaurant, Sam, Bobby, and Sam’s new girlfriend are already waiting at the table. When you approach, Sam stands, coming to hug you instantly. Since you met the Winchesters, Sam had always been like a big brother to you, taking you under his wing, he and Dean teaching you how to hunt, and eventually even being the one who encouraged both you and Dean to pull your heads out of your asses and realize you were in love with each other. Sam’s also semi-retired now, along with Dean. They work about one case a month together still, but this town is their home base now. Sam’s house only a convenient 15 minutes away from yours and Dean’s, and Bobby’s only 20. To you, it’s perfect. 

The dinner goes well; you love Sam’s new girlfriend and can't help but gush to Sam how perfect she is, making the poor man blush and stutter like a school boy, indicating that he must really like her. However, Dean’s quiet, not even giving Sam a hard time for being head over heels for his new girl. Instead of his usually loud, charming, confident self, he spends most of dinner staring at his plate and playing with his food. 

When everyone says their goodbyes, you even hug Sam’s girlfriend, the two of you having already exchanged numbers and hopefully planning to hang out soon. You gush to Sam about keeping her around once again before hugging him and Bobby goodbye and heading back to the car with Dean to go home. 

He starts the car up quietly, not even turning on his beloved radio, and heads toward home. 

After 10 excruciating minutes, you're unable to stand the lingering tension anymore and decide to speak up. “Hey, what's up with you tonight?” 

Dean's hands flex as they grip the steering wheel, knuckles turning white. Your question and tone were in no way accusatory, but clearly still hit a nerve within him. “It's nothing. I’m okay.” 

“You don’t look okay.” You say flatly, raising an eyebrow at him, knowing him too well to play this game. “Did you not like Sam’s girlfriend or something?” 

Dean shakes his head, meaning it genuinely. “No, no… she was nice, sweet, I’m glad you guys got along.” 

“Then what is it? You’re being way too quiet.” You press as Dean pulls into the driveway and then the garage that is attached to your home. 

“I don’t want to talk about it…” He admits with a sigh and a grumpy look before unbuckling his seat belt and coming around the side of the car to open your door for you like he always does. 

You roll your eyes to yourself, knowing how he gets - shut off, detached, moody - as if he doesn’t remember all the times you convinced him over and over again that it's okay for him to feel his feelings and to allow himself to be loved and cared for in the same way he loves and cares for others, particularly you. With the childhood he had, it's a conversation revisited often between the two of you, but the longer you're together, the more it seems to sink in. However, tonight seems like a night that he might need a reminder.  

“Dean, come on….” You try to encourage him to open up while you walk inside and up the stairs to your bedroom, him following closely behind. 

He doesn’t respond until he lies down on the bed and sighs, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s nothing, it's stupid.” 

You lie down on the bed, on your stomach next to him, propping your head up on your hands. You remind yourself to be patient with him, and you look over at him lovingly. “If it's bothering you, it’s not stupid.” 

He grunts a little, one of his ways of saying he knows you’re right. Then he’s quiet again for a moment before he realizes you’re still there looking at him all pretty and empathetic, so he takes a deep breath, sighs again, and decides to let it out.

“I noticed I’ve… gained a few pounds recently.” 

He continues staring at the ceiling like he just delivered horrible news, while you look at him, confused, raising an eyebrow. “Okay?” 

Your response in the form of a question throws him slightly off guard, so he rephrases himself as if he thinks you don’t understand. “No, like my shirts are getting tight, I’ve gained weight.”

“So do you want to, like, go shopping tomorrow or something?” She asks nonchalantly, thinking maybe Dean’s disdain for shopping is what's got him so moody. 

Dean sits up and looks down at you, not believing your reaction. “No! I just- I….” He stumbles over his words, trying to figure out how to articulate his thoughts as he's still figuring out how he really feels for himself. “Have you noticed? Like, did you realize that before I just told you now?” 

You shrug a little awkwardly. “I mean, I guess… I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think it was a big deal, you’re still healthy, you're still handsome…” 

His face twists a little, and you can tell he's getting worked up. He huffs frustratedly and speaks. “Well, I don’t feel hand-” he says before cutting himself off, blushing, suddenly looking away from you. 

He’s trying to close himself off, every instinct inside of him telling him this is stupid and that he’s being weak, too emotional, all those things his father had drilled into his head over and over. And your heart breaks a little when you see that look on his face that tells you exactly what he's thinking. 

Sitting up, you move closer to him before speaking softly. “Dean Winchester…” He looks at you at the sound of his name on your lips, but his expression stays fixed, almost skeptical. “You are the most handsome man I have ever met, inside and out, and no number on a scale or a measuring tape can change that. Retirement making you a little softer around the edges, changing your body, it’s not a bad thing… You are happy, you are, healthy, you are safe… your body’s probably fucking celebrating.” 

Dean swears he feels his heart stop before it starts fluttering in his chest, and his cheeks flush a pinkish hue. It’s moments like these that the reminders work, and he remembers why he married you. 

“God, you’re perfect.” He mumbles, shaking his head and looking away, getting almost a tad flustered by her compliments, trying not to smile. 

You ignore his praise but grin, unable to help yourself. “Look, I know what it's like to feel insecure about your body, you know I do…” She continues softly. “But even at my most insecure, you’ve always still made me feel beautiful, Dean, you’ve always assured me that weight and all that shit doesn’t matter. Why don’t you believe it when it's you?” 

He looks down at his hands in his lap. He doesn’t even have to think about the answer before it's tumbling out of his mouth. “Most of the women I was with before you were only there because of how I looked… maybe part of me is scared if my looks change, if I gain weight, if my face or body changes too much as I get older, that I’ll lose you…” He swallows deeply, realizing what he just said out loud, praying it wasn’t too much. 

“Dean…” You say as you reach out and place your hands on either side of his face, feeling the stubble of his beard tickling your fingers and palms. “You never, ever have to worry about that… I love you, and I wouldn't have married you just because I thought you were hot. I’m not going anywhere because of this. I’m not going anywhere, period. I swear.” You smile softly, trying your best to reassure him and clear his mind. “But just so you know, you are still hot, like really hot…” You add playfully, blushing a little yourself now. “More or less weight can’t change that.”  

A chuckle finally breaks through him, and he smiles fully now, his heart doing that thing again. “Did I mention you were perfect?” He says, repeating his earlier sentiment before pulling you onto his lap and into a hug. “I love you so fucking much.” 

His laugh is contagious, making you giggle too, before he kisses you softly and you whisper back. “I love you too.” 

He kisses you again and again and again, smiling against your lips, then your cheek, then your jaw, and then your neck, voice soft and almost strained. “I know you wouldn't leave me like that, I just… 

“Got scared?” You ask finishing his sentence softly. In the years you’ve now spent together, you’ve gotten to know all of his insecurities, and losing you has always been at the top of that list. 

He doesn’t answer, and he doesn’t have to. You both know it’s true, even if he still doesn’t admit it out loud. So instead you kiss him again, and he smiles softly, a silent thank you for knowing him so well, for not making him say it out loud, for loving him even when he feels unlovable in all ways. 

“At least now I know you think I’m still hot with a dad body…” He says, smirking, close enough for you to feel his upturned lips brushing yours before kissing you again, more deeply this time. 

You can’t help but to let out a little giggle in between kisses. You run your fingers through his hair and look at him playfully, eyebrows raising in jest, deciding to cheer him up in the best way you know how. “You know you can’t call it a dad bod when you haven’t put a baby in me yet.”

Dean almost groans at your words, instinctively tightening his grip on your waist. Just like you know all his biggest insecurities and fears, you also know all his deepest wants and desires. A family. Again, something he never used to let himself want, thinking it wasn’t something he’d ever have. But ever since you came along, he realized that with you having a family was an actual possibility, and the idea hasn’t left his head since. And it doesn’t help that the thought alone of filling you up and putting a baby inside you was enough to make him start twitching in his pants. Thinking about his perfect girl, his love, his everything, carrying part of him… It's enough to make him feral. 

“You know you can’t say shit like that to me, baby…” He says his voice lower now as his gaze locks onto your eyes, glimmering with something new. 

You can’t help the smirk that finds your lips when you know you’ve got him exactly where you want him. “Am I wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence. 

“You’re a minx, is what you are-” He states pointedly before grabbing the back of your head, gently but firm, and pulling you in to kiss rougher now but with all the same passion as before. 

You try not to giggle while kissing him, but you can’t help it as it slips out. He can’t hide his own smile anymore either, as he shakes his head before grabbing you and flipping you onto the bed. Hovering over you, the sudden dominance and strength make you blush and gasp in surprise. This is your dean, the real Dean, no longer insecure and angsty, just Dean; smooth, confident, sexy, loving, vulnerable, yours. 

“Maybe you’re right, maybe as long as I’m still strong enough to throw you around a little, we’ll be okay.” He smirks teasingly. “Oh, and for the record, you know I’ve been waiting to put that baby in you from day one, pretty girl, you give me the word and you know I’ll deliver.” 

His words, equally filthy and sweet, make your heart explode and tummy swirl with desire, and you find yourself considering his words and suppressing another giggle. “Yeah, but if I actually let you do it, I don’t get to tease you about it all the time.” 

“Trust me, baby, you all full and round with my child, you’ll have lots more to tease me about then.” He states knowing whenever it is, when that happens, he won't be able to keep his hands off of you. 

Your cheeks heat up at the thought, and the growing feeling in your lower belly sparks. “You’re insatiable, you know that?” 

He chuckles at your attempt to deflect before leaning down close to you, his nose brushing yours softly, making it impossible for you to deflect away his attention now. “Yeah, but you fucking love it.” He doesn't give you a chance to respond before pushing his lips against yours, kissing you hungrily. 

As if on instinct alone, your hands find the front of his shirt using the soft fabric to tug him towards you. You were right, but so was he; he’s insatiable, and so are you. 

Feeling you pull him in, he smirks, “That’s what I thought, baby girl.” He loves teasing you, he loves making you melt, but he loves making you bite back to spur him on. A challenge he takes only to press you harder and get you right back into the palm of his hand again anyway. It’s his favorite game of cat-and-mouse. 

“Shut up and practice putting that baby inside me already.” You shoot back mischievously. 

He can't help but chuckle at your demand, loving it and loving you like this. “Yes, ma’am.” 

And then his hands start to move. He’s kissing you again all over as he starts pulling off your clothes. You reach for his shirt to remove it as well, but his hands grab yours and pin them down, surprising you a little, but you don’t fight it. “Let me,” He whispers, almost begging, his eyes looking into yours, asking to let him take care of you. 

You don’t protest, and he releases you from his hold before he starts to remove his clothes as well. You let him take off both of your clothing and his, but your hands are still greedy as they go back to his body, running down from the stubble on his cheeks to the hair on his chest, to the soft belly he was so insecure about only moments ago. You savor the different textures and curves, all of them so uniquely and so purely him. 

Dean groans into your mouth as you touch him, and he finally removes the last of his clothing. He moves himself away from your mouth, now kissing your jaw and heading south again. His lips explore your neck, and shoulders, and collarbones like he hasn't done so hundreds of times before, he gets to your breasts. He takes your left nipple into his mouth, without hesitation, possessively sucking and biting at it as his hand teases the one on the right. 

Your soft gasps and moans urge him to keep going as he switches, hand to the left, mouth on the right now. Your hands grasping at the comforter underneath your body to stop yourself from squirming at the pleasure. 

Once satisfied with the redness and puffiness of both peaks, he continues his path of sexual destruction. His lips trailing over your sternum and stomach all the way to your hips. Stopping there, he picks a spot right between your midline and hip bone to sink his teeth into as he sucks and laps at it with his tongue relentlessly. You moan out louder this time, the pain and pleasure mixing deliciously, causing the dampness forming between your thighs to grow. 

When he’s satisfied again, this time with the mark he’s created, the abused skin bruising quickly, he looks up at you, grinning and proud, loving how you react to him in every way. He savors it all, from the change in your breath to the way you bite at your lip; he’s greedy for all you have to offer. 

His hands massage your legs as he keeps moving down, now kissing at the soft skin of your thighs towards where he really wants. “Just a little taste, baby, then I’ll let you have it, I promise.” 

You blush, but you don’t argue as he spreads your legs, and he lets his mouth move towards your core like a magnet. He kisses it using his tongue to tease, and it works, making you moan for him, your fingers running through his hair. 

“Dean-” You whimper softly in pleasure at the dedicated way he uses his mouth against you. 

“Shhhhh, baby, I’ve got you.” He mumbles before burying his face deeper. 

You moan again, the sensation overwhelming and heavenly, and he loves the sounds so much he smirks against you, and you can feel it. He’s cockiest like this, making you feel good, showing you how much he loves you and wants you. He keeps going, his ‘little taste’, not being so little as you feel yourself getting more and more worked up. 

“Oh my god, Dean, please-” You plead, grasping his hair more aggressively now, desperate to have some kind of grip on reality. 

He pulls himself away, licking his lips and wiping his mouth off, messy with your arousal and his spit. He sits up and catches his breath, looking down at you lustfully and breathing heavily from his efforts. “God, I could do that all day, but you have me way too hard right now to make you cum anywhere except around me while I’m filling you up.”  

You whine at his teasing, fully knowing it's ridiculous to do so, as he stares down at you, completely bare and needy under him. “Dean… please…”

He doesn’t have to be told twice before suddenly grabbing you and kissing you roughly again, shoving down his boxers, cock hitting his stomach as it springs up, thankful for the mercy of release. He groans and leans to move your legs, wrapping them around him. “Come on, baby, hang on to me…” You do as he says between the mess of kisses and tangled limbs. 

Once situated, Dean reaches down between your bodies and takes his cock into his large hand, pressing the tip against your opening, gently rubbing it up and down, making you moan for him again as he grazes your clit. 

“Tell me how bad you want it, baby, tell me how bad you want my baby inside you.” He pleads, grunting a little, trying to keep his composure. 

“So bad, Dean, need it so bad, want you to fill me up so good.” You plead back for him both because you're desperate for him inside but also because you truly mean it.  

“That's my good girl, daddy’s going to breed you so good, honey, don’t you worry,” Dean growls before pushing into your warmth, making him groan, and you gasp as he takes his time sinking into you until he bottoms out. 

“Oh fuck-” You moan, but he cuts you off wth a needy and messy kiss as he starts moving himself in and out of you with a building pace. 

“That's it, baby, gonna fill you up nice and good.” He murmurs, voice becoming gravely, “Gonna give you my baby, is that what you want?” 

You nod, unable to form words due to the combination of his hammering thrusts and his fingers now rubbing your clit, clouding your mind with pleasure.  

“Words, baby, let me hear ‘em.” He demands grunting, his fingertips of his other hand digging into the flesh of your hip, most likely creating finger tip-shaped bruises as he holds on to you like a lifeline. 

“Yes, daddy, please, breed me, please.” You manage to moan out breathlessly, your words only spurring him on more, rubbing you faster, fucking you harder, and kissing you with abandon. 

He growls a string of curses against your mouth, forehead leaning against yours, needing to ground himself as he feels his high approaching quickly, movements becoming sloppy. 

“Such a good girl for me, honey. Need you fucking cum for me, okay? Cum for me and I’ll give you that baby, I’ll fill you up so full I promise.” Dean rambles, unsure if he’s begging or commanding you, his dominance slipping as his desperate need for you takes precedence. 

With the motivation of wanting to make you cum first, his efforts double on your clit as he continues with his brutal pace inside you, knowing exactly how to bring you there to the edge. You moan out and whimper, feeling it bubble deep inside you. It feels good, too good, and you dig your nails into his biceps, tipping your head back as you let that too-good feeling take over and wash through you like a tidal wave. 

Dean watches you come undone, the sight making his hips stutter as he almost cums right there and then just by looking at you. But he doesn’t stop, he keeps going, desperate for his own release, to fill you up and breed you just how you begged him to. 

“Fuck!” He curses loudly as he shoves himself especially deep inside your body and cums hard. He’s panting and almost whining himself as he continues to fuck you through his orgasm and the after shocks of your own. 

You moan when you feel him fill you up and whimper at the overwhelming sensitivity coursing through your body. “Dean!” You whimper, almost squealing.  

He huffs out an almost laugh, slowing and shallowing his movements, his hips stutter some more as he tries to bring himself to a stop. “Sorry, baby, sorry-” He whispers, knowing he’s giving you too much now, caught up in the moment. 

You nod, still trying to catch your breath as his hands start rubbing up your sides again, soft and soothingly, and his head drops to your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin all over. He might have gotten caught up for a moment, but he knows exactly what you need. “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” He assures you softly. “Just breathe for me.” You nod, listening to his voice, using the sound and his soft kisses to center you. 

He gently pulls out of you, doing his best not to make you whimper, before reaching for his shirt to gently wipe up his seed that leaks out of you. “You okay, baby?” He asks you in the same soft loving tone, always making sure he didn’t push you too far or hurt you too much, always wanting to know how much he loves you. 

“-‘m okay.” You say, smiling softly, loving how he cares for you even after destroying you. 

Dean moves his kisses back onto your jaw and then cheek, leading back to your lips before kissing you for real this time, long and slow. “I love you so much, honey.” 

The intensity of the act beginning to fade as a smile spreads over your lips even wider now as you look up at him lovingly. “I love you too, Dean…” 

“Please tell me there’s actually a chance I really could have just knocked you up?” He asks, chuckling softly, blushing subtly, but voice indicating he’s truly hopeful. 

You giggle and give him a playful frown. “Sorry, babe… still on the pill, remember?” 

He groans back playfully and kisses you softly. “You tease…” He whispers, smiling into the kiss. 

His reaction makes you giggle even more between kisses, but you know he’s masking how badly he wants this with his humor, so you move your hands to either side of his face gently and look up at him more seriously now. “My prescription runs out at the end of the month. Are you telling me not to renew it?” You ask him needing to hear it out loud.

He swallows hard at the implication, eyes shining down at you, swirling with emotion as he speaks, voice full of restraint. “Only if that's what you want, baby girl…” 

He’s barely done speaking before you answer. “I do…”

Dean's eyes gloss over before he can even stop it, and he tries not to be mad at himself for it; he tries to let himself have this, here with you, in this moment. His hand brushes your hair from your face, looking down at you, still reeling. “Fuck baby, that's all I want-”

You smile, the emotion in his face and voice making your eyes water too. “Then let's do it,” You say in a small laugh. 

He smiles back, pressing himself down, kissing you deeply, pouring everything he feels into it, knowing you’ll understand, knowing you know him like nobody else. 

He pulls back and smirks. “Well, now, until then, sweetcheeks, just call me DILF in progress.” 

And just like that, he’s back. 

You rolled to your stomach upon hearing his voice, propping your elbows on the mattress and resting your head on your hands. Your feet were hanging off the bed, so you slowly alternated kicking each leg up and down.

“You’re pretty,” you observed.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Dean grinned. “I was gonna ask how drunk she is, but I guess that answers my question.”

“She, uh, decided to give karaoke a shot...” Sam carded his fingers through his hair, tucking his locks behind his ears and shaking his head. “Everyone loved it so much, they bought her drinks the rest of the night.”

You beamed and began humming. Letting your hands fall from beneath your chin, you bobbed your head as you wiggled your fingers in the air in front of you.

“Need something?” Dean quirked an eyebrow.

“ScaraMOUCH, ScaraMOUCH, will you do the FanDANGO?” You rolled to your back and pointed finger guns at the ceiling with each syllable you sang. “THUNDER BOLTS AND LIGHTNING, VERY, VERY FRIGHTENING MEEEE--”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose before scooping you into his arms to slide you up the bed during your “Galileos.” You sank into the pillows, rolling your head side to side as you continued singing and conducting your invisible orchestra.

“She did Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“That explains the air piano solo,” Dean remarked.

The boys stood on either side of the bed and helped you out of your boots, socks, and flannel while you squirmed and finished the rest of your performance between fits of giggles. Sam lifted you once more so Dean pulled back the covers and tuck you in. He worked his way up your legs to your torso, tucking the fabric beneath you to make it at least a little more difficult for you to roll out of bed. When he was within your reach, you stretched a hand out and gently poked the tip of his nose.

“Boop.”

“I’m glad you had fun tonight. Wish I would’ve thought to record all of this to show you in the morning.”

“You’re so hip, Dean. Hip--that’s a fun word too. Hip, hip, hippp. ‘Pics or it didn’t haaappeeen.’“

Dean glanced over at Sam and they burst into laughter again at your behavior.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded. “Welcome to my world. All night.”

“Ah, relax, Sammy. Think of how many times she’s had to take care of us--drunk or not. We don’t get the whole...cute, laughing, carefree thing very often.”

“Ewwwww, pantsssss,” you groaned, kicking away the covers.

Dean crossed the room wordlessly and began digging through your bag.

“Sam! Pssst, Sammyyyy,” you whispered loudly. “Don’t freak out...but I think your brother just said I’m cute.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Shhhhhh! He’s gonna hear you! Quick! Close your eyes so he can’t hear me.”

You covered your eyes with your hands and peeked at Sam between your fingers. He shook his head, pressing his lips in a hard line to conceal his smile. 

“I don’t think that’s how that... Actually, you know--nevermind. Sorry, Y/N. I’ll try to be more quiet.”

“’S’okay. Wanna know a secret?”

“Uh, well, I--”

“Secret, secret-- I’ve gotta sssecret,” you slurred as you sang again. “I wanna have the sex with your brothaaa.”

Across the room, Dean had still been smiling at your drunken rants. His amused expression became one of surprise as he creased his forehead and his eyebrows leaped toward his hairline. He drew in a deep breath, but otherwise stood motionless and gaping at your admission.

“That’s, uh...that’s nice, Y/N.” Sam swallowed uncomfortably and placed a bottle of aspirin on the nightstand beside you. “Maybe that’s something you should talk to him about.”

“I wanna have SEX with Deaaannn!”

“Okay--you, know what? On that note, I’m taking a shower and heading to bed. Dean, switch me beds and just...yeah. I’m officially passing her off to you.”

Sam scurried to the shared bathroom and quickly closed the door behind him. Your eyelids were growing heavy, but you grinned and waved when you slipped out of your drunken haze long enough to spot Dean again. He smiled at you gently and returned to your side with some clothes in hand.

“Alright. C’mon, Freddie Mercury. Let’s get you ready for bed,” he murmured as he began undoing your jeans with nimble fingers.

“Bowchicka wow wow.” You winked at him, kicking off your jeans ungracefully and giggling when they remained tangled at your ankles. “Look! No paaaantsss.”

“I see that.”

“Does that mean sexy times, says me, plus you?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart.” 

He helped you slip on your favorite pair of pajama shorts, then swapped out your tank top with one of his old t-shirts. When you “booed” and pouted your bottom lip out, he leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“Get some sleep, Y/N. Believe me...we’re gonna revisit this conversation tomorrow when I know it’s you talking and not all the booze. Deal?”

“Dealio Dean-io.”

Dean walked toward the door, making sure Sam had locked it properly before he turned off the lights. Leaving the lamp on the bedside table on for his brother, he crawled into bed beside you. He settled comfortably into the mattress and stretched an arm out, pulling you toward him so you could nestle into his chest.

“G’night, Y/N.”

“Night, Mr. Pretty Face,” you mumbled.

His chest rumbled beneath your ear as he chuckled quietly to himself. The feeling of his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back and his soft humming were the last things you remembered as you finally drifted off to sleep.

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Cap’s SPN Crew:

“No.” you leaned your head on his arm before you continued in a hushed tone. “You don't want a warm box of food in your lap when you can have other things occupying that same space.”

“Like?” Looking up at him, you licked your lips before biting down on the bottom one. The guy behind the stand pulled his attention away, and Dean was flustered for a moment.. “Yeah, uh.. Large coke and a bottle of water.” You cleared your throat. “And a large popcorn.”

“Thank you, Dean.” you grinned, getting on your toes to peck his lips. “Best boyfriend ever.”

“Yeah, yeah. We’re sharing. Popcorn and drink.”

“Oh, I’ve got something for you to drink.” you winked.

“Jesus Christ.” Dean groaned. “Don’t do that, not here.” He glanced awkwardly at the girl watching him from down the counter.

You smiled at him while he paid, and when the popcorn was added to the waiting drinks on the counter, you took the bag while Dean grabbed the drinks. “Being awkwardly turned on is half the fun, Dean.”  You laughed as Dean shot you a glare.

“This movie better not be packed..” Dean grumbled under his breath as he followed you into the theatre.

You both walked in and looked around the room at the people scattered around the space. And then you saw a lone person in the back row. “This way.” you started moving along the empty seats until you dropped down next to Sam.

“You suckered him into popcorn, huh?” he asked, dipping his hand into the bag.

“I did.” you jokingly smacked his hand away, but it didn’t stop him from getting a handful. He tilted his head back and dropped some into his mouth with a smile. “If you wanted popcorn you should have said something. I already have to share with the bottomless pit.” you motioned to Dean in the seat next to you. “He almost got nachos.” you scoffed.

“What? I like food I didn’t have to cook. Sue me.” Dean grabbed a fist full of popcorn and you shot him a glare as well.

“The lights aren’t even off yet!”

“You know damn well what's happening once they are.” Sam nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “Better eat while you can.”

Somewhere around the 10 minute mark, Dean was done stealing your popcorn, and he sat sipping on the drink with his hand on your thigh. Somewhere around the 25 minute mark, Sam forgot about the movie and was turned to face you, hand going up your shirt and pawing at your breast. “You know.. I’d actually like to see this one.” you glanced at him.

“No one’s stopping you.” he kissed along your shoulder and up behind your ear.

“You are.” you breathed. “You know I can’t focus when you do that.”

“Then I guess I shouldn’t do it, too.” came Dean’s voice from the other side, his hand gripping your thigh tighter as he leaned down to bite at your earlobe.

“I hate you both.” you groaned, slipping lower in the chair.

“You knew what was happening.” Sam chuckled. “It’s why you wore a skirt.”

You heard Dean groan as his hand moved higher. “And no panties.” his finger teased at your slit and you bit down onto your bottom lip to keep from moaning, since you had the unfortunate luck of someone sitting directly in front of you. “So wet already.”

“And leaking.” Sam loved your bras that did up in the front rather than the back, so he felt for the zipper he expected to be there, and grinned at you as your breasts fell free. He lifted your shirt out of the way, flat of his tongue going to the swell of your breast just below to nipple to lick up what had leaked out.

“Come on, guys.” it was half hearted, and they knew it. Sam took a nipple in his mouth and you bit back a moan and looked to Dean. He smiled at you, that sweet loving smile you’d grown to love, before he pressed his lips to yours. You couldn’t help but melt.

“Gonna fuck you so good when we get home.” Dean promised against your lips, and you nodded. “Wanna fuck you so bad right now. You want that too?” you gave him another nod, a whimper in your throat that turned into a gasp when he sank two fingers knuckle deep into you.

“Could you guys keep it do-” the words died on the strangers lips when he looked back and saw you. Sam drinking at your breast while your hand groped at his obvious erection barely contained by his jeans. You, legs spread wide with Dean pumping his fingers in and out. “Holy shit.”

Either the boys didn’t hear, didn’t care, or decided to put on a show, because no one paid him any attention. But feeling a little too on display, you tried to close your legs a bit, only for Sam’s hand to stop you. Then his fingers brushed your clit and your whole body jumped with the added stimulation.

Dean’s free hand took yours from where it gripped his thigh, and placed it around his cock, out and hard, and you were quick to start stroking him as your other hand nudged at Sam’s zipper. Sam was quick to free himself as well, your fists pumping both of them while they worked you up.

You looked ahead, at the guy watching you. Even though you couldn’t really see it, it was obvious his arm was moving, his hand likely wrapped around his own cock as he watched the show. “Eyes forward.” you snapped at him, and he jumped, shooting around, quick to obey, but when Dean hooked his fingers just right, and your head fell back with a curse, the guy glanced back again. “I really wanted to see this one.” you chuckled.

“You can still watch it.” Dean’s breath fanned out over your ear as he whispered into it. “Just get on my lap.”

“Why did we let your brother in?” you teased, turning to Sam.

“Because brothers was on your list.” Sam looked up at you. “And sharing was on mine.”

“And you love me.” Dean nosed at you until you looked at him again.

“I do.” you smiled, as his lips pressed gently to yours.

“Then come for me- come for us.” he corrected, and both brothers doubled their efforts making you gasp again and clench around his fingers. “So close, baby. Come on, come for us.”

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Tagging : Milk - @voltage-my2dlove @maximumkillshot  @cereal-hoarder@deans-baby-momma @deanmonandnegansbitch       

Sam - @evyiione   @rebelminxy @purplecatterpiller @stark-red19 @karouwinchester @flanneleddamsel @leahslovelylibrary

Dean - @evyiione @deanandsamsbitch @akshi8278 @haelyn   @anjiep24 @polina-93 @colagirl5 @adoptdontshoppets   

Supernatural - @roxyspearing  @internationalmusicteacher @super100012 @legend-o-zelda @sandlee44 @dancingalone21  @superfanficgsp987 @holyfuckloueh  @arses21434 @musiclovinchic93 @your-sparklywinnercollection @closetspngirl @ksgeekgirl @4llmywr1tings  @hobby27 @just-another-busyfangirl 

“You know I would die for you! I love you!“ You yelled, spit flying out of your mouth as you shouted at him. “I would give my life for you! How can you think so fucking little of me?!”

“I saw the way he fucking looked at you,” he clenched his fists and moved towards you, heat radiating off of him. “I saw the way you looked at him, sweetheart. You’re still the same fuckin’ whore like you were before, huh?”

You growled and punched him as hard as you could, feeling your knuckles collide with his jaw immediately. “Who the fuck do you think I am—” 

Dean stretched his arm forward and grabbed your throat, throwing you hard against the wall. You screamed as your back hit the plaster, tears beginning to prick and then fall from your eyes as you struggled to breathe.

Your fingers clawed at his hand as you focused on his ruthless expression. A trail of blood ran down his chin before he rubbed at his busted lip with the side of his shoulder. It smeared across his mouth as he smiled, enjoying watching you struggle.

“I could kill you right now, sweetheart,” He finally loosened his grip on your neck, causing you to gasp as oxygen finally reached your lungs. 

“You’ve always been such a needy fucking slut — God, just look at you now!” His eyes traveled to your tank top, your nipples visible through the fabric’s thin material. “Always teasin’ me and everyone else with these big fuckin’ tits,” 

With his free hand, he reached out and squeezed your breast, pulling and kneading the flesh between his palm. As you whimpered in pain, continuing to struggle against his hold, he grinned and pushed his body against you. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you won’t even remember who he is—”

“D-Dea—N-no—”

Music blared through the bar drowning out almost everything else. The air outside was hot and inside wasn’t exactly cool, but the beer you sipped was enough to take the edge off. It was cold and it quenched your thirst. You hadn’t actually planned to come into the bar tonight, but you were bored sitting at home and figured why not. 

You knew the patrons well and they knew you. The bar was more like a hole in the wall. A local tavern for the people to gather at, after a long day of work and just wind down. That was what you had come by to do. You sipped your beer and eyed the pool table nearby. 

Other than yourself and a few others the bar was mostly empty. And you knew everyone that was there. Everyone except the gorgeous green-eyed, bow legged man that was shooting a game of pool. He was new and you were more than curious about him. 

Finishing off your beer you ordered two more and headed over to him. “Hey there handsome. You must be new in town.” You held one of the beers out for him, taking an even better look at him. You liked the way his black tee clung to his frame underneath his flannel, the way his jeans showed off his muscled thighs, and how green his eyes were. 

“Yeah, I’m just passing through. What gave me away?” Dean took the beer and opened it, taking a long drink. 

“Small town. Everyone knows everyone. I knew there was someone new the moment I spotted that beautiful car outside. I’m gonna assume she’s yours.” 

He grinned, almost like he was proud. And you figured he probably was. The Chevy Impala sitting outside was definitely something to be proud of. “She’s mine alright. You were admiring her were you?” 

It was your turn to grin. “Anybody with half a brain would admire her.” You watched as he made his final shot, finish up his game, and winning. His opponent handed over some money and left. 

“Playing for money huh?”

“I never play for nothing unless it’s against my brother.” 

You hummed and put a few coins in the slot, pushing it in, and letting the balls roll back out. “Well what about you and I play a few games. I’m not really that great, but we could talk and get to know each other.” 

“What would the stakes be?” 

“First game we’ll go simple. We’ll play for who’s buying the next round.” 

Dean eagerly agreed to those terms. You had already bought him one beer. He figured this would be easy and he’d be getting another free one by the time the game was done. 

You set up the balls and waited on him to break. He knocked in a stripe and a solid, giving you the next shot. You hit the stripe in easy, but made it seem like you were surprised. The next shot you missed. 

By the time it was all said and done most of your balls were still on the table. Conversation flowed easily and like a good sport you bought another round. You smiled and took a long drink. “Alright. This time I’ll let you make the stakes.”

Dean took a drink of his beer as he thought it over. He tapped his fingers along the edge of the table and nodded. “If I win you have to let me take you out. I’m going to be here for a few more days and I’d like to have a date with you.” 

“And if I win?” You raised a brow.

He shrugged. “What do you want? I don't know what would be equal to that.” 

“I win I get to take that gorgeous car of yours for a spin.”

His eyebrows shot up. Baby was his pride and joy. He barely let his own brother drive her. But he had creamed you in the first game. He knew how to play pool with the best of them after hustling for years. It wouldn’t hurt to agree to your terms. “Sure. You win and you can take Baby for a spin.”

You knew you had him then. You knew that you would be able to beat him. It was just a matter of time. You played your cool, made a few ‘mistakes’, and when there were only a few balls left for him to make you cleaned to table. You made every single shot and won.

“Looks like I get to take Baby for a spin.” You grinned.

Dean’s mouth dropped open and he stared. How had you just beat him? You had been so awful in the previous game and you hadn’t been doing great this game. “Did you just hustle me?”

You took a drink and chuckled. “‘Maybe. What can I say? Since the moment I laid eyes on that car of yours I wanted to drive her. When I saw you playing pool it gave me the perfect opportunity to do so.” 

“So you did hustle me. I can’t believe it. How did you manage that?”

“I work here. Part time, but I’m here all the time. I always play a few rounds of pool. Even have a table at home. It didn’t take long to get good and figure out how to hustle.”

He shook his head and held out the keys. “I said you could take her for a spin. So here you go.”

You took the keys, looked at them, and then handed them back. “When I’m sober. I want to fully enjoy it and not take any chances on wrecking her.” You moved closer and pressed your lips to his cheek. “And because I did hustle you and I’m a good sport I’m still going to agree to a date.”

Dean laughed softly. “You aren’t like any girl I’ve ever met.”

“That’s because there aren’t many girls like me. I’ll meet you here tomorrow Deano. 8 o’clock.” You grabbed your coat and threw a wink his way.