“Fuck the scissors,” Dean grunts in your neck. He has you pressed against the tile wall at the apartment Jensen bought for all of you. “I knew I’ll win your sweet cunt this time.”
The hunter mercilessly fucks you from behind, ignoring one of your other roommates who walks into the showers to watch the show.
“Aw, look at the hunter boy. He tries to fuck like a man,” Soldier Boy mocks. He dips his head to watch Dean’s cock disappear in your slicked sex. “What do you say, baby? Do you want me to take over or does he fuck you good?”
Soldier Boy groans loudly. Over the last year, he became a fan of voyeurism and amateur porn. He gets his phone out to film you and Dean going at it.
“G-ood,” you choke out. You can’t move, or even turn your head as the full length of Dean’s body is pressed against you. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum.”
“Yeah, sweetheart. Let go for me,” the hunter purrs in your ear. “I can feel your pretty pussy flutter around me. I want to feel it. I can’t face my brother with a raging hard-on, can I?”
You whine. “He’s still out cold. Your baby brother shouldn’t drink so much,” Soldier Boy mocks. “Boy, that’s one whiny little bitch you got for a brother.”
“Shut up,” jerking his hips faster in your ass Dean growls at Soldier Boy. “He’s not used to this world. We all are new to a normal life.”
“Fuck, I love our normal life.”
You clamp down hard onto Dean’s cock.
“I love watching her get fucked. It’s almost as good as fucking her,” Soldier Boy crudely says. He cups his crotch, smirking as the hunter finally pulls out of your well-fucked cunt. “Damn, look at her. Your spunk drips out of her pussy and she already bends over for more.”
“Don’t be an asshole all the time,” Dean grunts. “She’s not some whore but our girl. If you want her to make you feel good, treat her the same way.”
“She loves it when I call her my good little slut. Right,” you dip your head to look at Soldier Boy. Or Ben to you. He doesn’t allow anyone else to call him that. Only you. “Come here baby cakes and get on my dick.”
“Dude what the fuck,” you chuckle as Dean won’t stop glaring at Ben. The hunter balls his hands into fists, ready to defend you. “You don’t talk like that to Y/N.”
“Dean, we all have our kinks,” you bite your index finger. “Come over here, Soldier Boy. Get your prize for fighting the evil.”
“I’ll fuck you through the wall.”
You squeak as Ben is on you in the blink of an eye. He picks you up by your waste and forces your legs around his waistline. “Fucking hell, yes!”
“Uh-I’m out of this. I gotta talk to Sammy,” Dean stammers as you wiggle your hips to get on Ben’s dick. “If he’s too rough, holler. I mean it, sweetheart.”
“She likes it rough, hunter boy. Now get the fuck out,” Ben grunts. “I don’t like an audience. I fuck my girl in private. We don’t want one of you to get jealous.”
Damn him. Soldier Boy must be the cockiest bastard you ever met. Not that you would complain. He’s already inching his way inside your hungry cunt, and you are needier than ever.
“Merry Hoemas to me,” you wrap your arms around his neck. He chuckles as you eagerly start moving up and down his length. “Fuck, that training finally pays off. Watch my moves.”
“My eager beaver is fucking herself on my large cock,” he pecks your lips. “Come on, fuck me harder, kitten. I want you to come all over me. I’ll fill you up so well. It will be the first Christmas present tonight…”
“Damn, I’m sore and tired but if that wasn’t something else,” you nuzzle your face in Jensen’s neck. My men taking turns is so fucking hot.”
“Baby, you need a rest,” Dean tuts as you lift your head to glance at his ass. He lies flat on his stomach and buries his face into one of the soft pillows you bought. He tries to get a little sleep after your naughty Christmas escapade. Or in your words – the fuck-o-ton deluxe. “Me too. I’m getting too old for this shit.”
“If you can’t fuck her good, leave her alone,” Ben pokes your ass with his index finger. “I can go for hours.”
“No fighting,” you play with Jensen’s hair; sighing as you’ve missed him over the last weeks. “How was filming?”
“Great, exhausting…and I’ve missed you.”
“I bet you have missed us too,” Dean chuckles at Soldier Boy’s words. “Traitor. How can you play that boring sheriff after you played me and hunter boy over there.”
“Hey, keep me out of this shit,” Dean grumbles. “I just got used to this new life, and that Ackles somehow is my alter ego.”
“I’m not your alter ego. You are a role I played,” Jensen argues. “Now shut up. I need some sleep.”
“No fighting, guys,” you tut. “It’s Christmas and we should be thankful for having each other. Even though we come from different universes, we are a big happy family.”
“A family who likes to fuck you,” Soldier Boy tickles your foot. “I love devouring your sweet cunt, babycakes.”
“I know you do.”
You close your eyes, ready to get a good night's sleep. “Night baby. Be ready to end up on your hands and knees under the tree.”
“Shut up, Soldier Boy. We all need sleep.”
“Hmm…” you turn in your sleep to wrap your arms around Dean’s waistline.
You’re caged between him and Jensen as you dream another dream of your favorite men.
The only difference is, this time a certain sheriff plays a role in your dream. “No, too much,” you whine feeling hands grope your body. “I can’t cum again.”
“Babycakes, you’re having a naughty dream again,” Ben sits up on the huge bed to poke your thigh. “If you need a cock, have mine.”
“No sudden movement,” you sit up on the bed as you hear someone bark orders at Soldier Boy. “What are you doing here with that young lady?”
You know that voice, but your brain is still a little foggy and there is no light helping you make out a face. “Dude, what the fuck are you doing at our apartment?”
“I said, no sudden movement,” Dean is faster than expected. He jumps out of the bed and throws himself at the intruder, burying him under his body.
“What are you, buddy?” the hunter growls. “Demon, werewolf, a nice little shapeshifter?”
“What the fuck is going on here?” Soldier Boy helps Dean hold the man down. “Who are you?”
“What?” Jensen switches the light on. He leaves the bed, frowning deeply as his newest character gets pinned down by Dean and Soldier Boy. “Beau?”
“Beau?” you climb out of the bed to get a better look at the intruder. “Oh-fuck…this is bad. No—no. I didn’t do a thing.”
“You dreamed of him, didn’t you?” Jensen clicks his tongue. “What did you dream about, Y/N? I bet you wanted us all to rail you.”
Jensen crosses his arms over his chest and watches you like a hawk.
“Yeah, what did you dream this time, sweetheart?” Dean grunts as the newcomer wiggles in his grip. “Buddy, just lie there and shut up. We gotta talk to our girl.”
“Your girl?” Beau dips his head to get a better look at you in nothing but a pair of panties. “She’s your girl?”
“What didn’t you get, dude? Y/N is our girl,” Soldier Boy slaps Beau’s forehead. “Did you hit your head? And how did you get in here?”
“What is going on…oh fuck no,” you cross your arms over your chest to cover your breasts when Sam stumbles into the bedroom. “Another one?” He furrows his brows. “How do you do this?”
“How shall I know, Sammypedia,” you huff. “It’s your job to find out why Jensen’s characters love to end up in my bed. We brought you here for a reason.”
“You didn’t bring me here,” Sam bites back. “You dreamed of me and Dean double-teaming you.”
You sigh dreamily. “Yeah, that was a good dream. You were much nicer in my dream. You’re a jerk in reality.”
“Because I don’t want to have sex with you while my brother is in the same room,” Sam grumbles.
“You could’ve given me your cock at least once.”
“No giving her your cock, Sammy,” Dean warns. “I’m already playing rock, paper, scissors daily. You’ll not do dirty things to my girl.”
“Our girl,” Jensen corrects. “Now, what do we do with our newcomer?”
“We should tell him about the rules,” Soldier Boy sizes Beau up. “I’m warning you, asshole. Y/N is my little slut. She only turns into a whore for my cock.”
“She doesn’t look like a bad girl,” you give Beau a wink as he won’t stop staring at your exposed legs. “I bet she’s a good girl. I’m Beau Arlen, miss. Can you tell me where I am?”
You crouch down to get a closer look at Beau. “This is my bedroom and I’m afraid, you cannot leave it ever again,” you run your fingers through his hair. “My, aren’t you a pretty sheriff. I bet you can be a good boy too…”
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Summary: To get Dean to say yes to Michael, they sent him to the Endverse. And when that didn’t work, they turned to you.
Warnings: Time travel, time jumps, ANGST. Language. Endverse!Dean.
Bingo Squares Filled: @howbadcanitbebingo – which character is speaking?
Writing Challenge Prompts: “And maybe it'll be enough if you know that in the few hours we had together we loved a lifetime's worth.” (The Terminator) & Supernatural Season 5 Episode The End for @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior-warrior ‘s 500 Follower Celebration. “It must be nice to love someone who puts you first.” For @negans-lucille-tblr ‘s N-L-Threenager Writing Challenge.
A/N: This is one of those stories where, while it was all very clear in my head, I could not get it down into words. Then life happened, I had a break down and now bon appétit. Bee, I do apologize, I tried very hard to get this down to an even 2k. The characters just weren’t having it.
Dividers provided by @talesmaniac89
2014. Endverse.
Fire lit up the darkness in small explosions. A live inferno that devoured everything in sight. Heat licked at your fingertips through the linked fence, smoke splashed your cheeks and watered your eyes.
Dean had failed.
And the demons celebrated.
Three Days Earlier.
Chuck hurried up to you, his clipboard in hand and a string of worries on the tip of his tongue.
The last mission’s duffle was still slung across your shoulders, the rifle at your back, and the blood of a comrade still splattered across the front of your jacket. You sidestepped the prophet, fully intent on reaching your cabin and decompressing before hearing more bad news.
“…and you know how Cas is. By the way, Dean wants you on tomorrow’s caravan to the second camp. They’re going over their supplies now, which isn’t a lot, but they plan to head out at dawn.”
You stopped in the middle of the dirt path so suddenly that Chuck narrowly avoided walking into you.
Reading the confusion on your face, Chuck backtracked as if suddenly realizing that you were returning from a week-long mission.
“Right, so the plan is to help reinforce a fledgling camp on the other side of the state. We discovered them on the radio four days ago and Dean thinks,” he didn’t get to finish his thought as you unceremoniously shoved your duffel into his arms and started to take off in the direction of Dean’s cabin. “So, we’ll talk later?”
“Oh, you’re back,” Risa drawled. She stood outside the door to Dean’s cabin, arms crossed, and a foot kicked back to rest against the wall. Her mood seemed to match your own, which was fine, it was hard to find any sane person who wasn’t even a little bit irritable these days. But you didn’t appreciate the welcome.
“Is he in?” You asked.
“That depends…”
In no mood to play games, you pushed through to the door, ignoring her heated “hey!” and letting it swing wide on it’s hinges to slam into the wall behind it before stepping inside.
“Hi honey, I’m home,” you seethed.
Dean stood from the table, turning to you with an expression that was less than pleased. And though it was twisted, it felt good to know that you could still evoke an emotion out of him, even if that emotion was annoyance.
“Y/N?”
At the second voice, you tore your eyes away from Dean to the second person seated at the table behind him. In the next breath, you reached for the rifle at your back, but Dean had already braced himself against you, a hand on yours, staying the weapon.
The world seemed to be crashing around your ears as you kept a hard gaze on the person at the table, not really hearing Dean at your ear until he called your name.
“I checked, okay? He’s good. He’s…me.”
Holding your breath, you pulled your gaze back to Dean’s, violating every instinct that shouted against it. His expression was grim, but he stared deeply into your eyes, willing you to believe him.
It was the seated man’s slow, uncertain wave of the hand and awkward smile that had you slowly exhaling. Because you could see that it was him. Dean, before the end of the world.
“What are you doing here?” You asked while stepping away from Dean, your hand sliding out from under his. And if his jaw tightened in response, you ignored it.
“Risa, will you…” Dean trailed off, but the order was clear. With a stiff lip, she pulled the door back shut, obediently waiting outside for further orders.
The Dean at the table looked at the one behind you, as if waiting for his permission to speak.
“Angels,” the Dean behind you said. “From his time, not ours. He’s here to learn a lesson.”
The Dean at the table shrugged as if that were the gist of it. But you could feel that there was something they were holding back. And that reeked of your present-day Dean.
“And you’re going to teach him, are you?” You turned back to him, still nonsensically itching for a fight.
Sensing this, Dean refrained from answering. But the confusion as to why you persisted was visible on his face.
“Do you two need a moment? I can step outside.”
“No,” Dean answered without looking away from you. “I’m not teaching him anything. He’s going to see for himself.”
There was your opening.
“What is he going to see?”
The silence became deafening as suddenly your Dean refused to speak. When you stepped back to have both in your sight, the contrast was utterly jarring. You had been there, before the apocalypse, had been apart of the inner circle to defeat the devil. You were there when everything went wrong and helplessly watched as Dean became the jagged shell of who he used to be. After so many losses, you were on the outside now. And you didn’t know how to get back in. If there was anything to get back into.
The fire in your voice faded as you pushed, “What’s the deal with the second camp? Is that a real mission or are you purposefully sending me away so that I’m not apart of whatever this is?”
“It’s real and I need you on it.” His tone had hardened into that veteran soldier giving orders. “Now will you please go help them and we will talk about this later.”
Grinding your teeth, you couldn’t help the instinct to adhere to his command. He wasn’t about to budge and you were losing energy trying. Without a word, you stalked back out of the cabin, slamming the door behind you for good measure. A snark comment from Risa on the porch had you halting on the stairs.
“What did you say?”
She pushed off from the wall, staring down at you with all the anger and hurt that you felt.
“I said it must be nice. To love someone who puts you first. It’s an evacuation.”
You stared at her, not trusting yourself to speak.
“Look at the roster if you don’t believe me. He’s getting everyone out. Including you.”
The camp continued to move around you as you digested her meaning until realization dawned, quickly followed by disbelief.
“He found it.”
“He sure did.”
“And you’re going with him tomorrow.”
“Like a sheep to the slaughter.”
And somehow, that hurt more. You kept from looking back at the cabin and continued down the steps. It didn’t take long for Chuck to find you again, still carrying your duffel bag and talking in a fluster, before ushering you towards the people you would be escorting to the second camp. And damn it, but Risa was right. Women, children, and the wounded were slated for the caravan.
An evacuation.
You didn’t get back to your cabin until nightfall. Weighted by exhaustion both physically and mentally, you barely reacted when you walked in to find a visitor seated on your bed.
“I’m exhausted, Dean. Is this you or past you?”
“I’m offended you have to ask.”
Finally shrugging out of your bloodied jacket, you threw it down onto the nearest surface and rested your hands on your hips.
“Well, right now, I’m offended by your face.”
And damn him, that your response only made him smile. It wasn’t the full bloom smile that you had fallen in love with all those years ago, but it was the closest he had come to in a long time.
“I thought you liked my face.”
“Not right now.”
He shut his eyes and sighed, as if that exchange alone caused him a great effort. “Will you come here?” He pat the bedspread beside him.
In defiance, you pulled a wobbly chair from the wall, dragged it two feet from the bed and fell into it with crossed arms. He watched you with pursed lips but said nothing on it.
“You have questions, so let’s hear it.”
“Where’s the other Dean?”
His mouth dropping open was the only sign that you had caught him off guard. Licking his lips he cocked his head to the side and tried to play it off.
“He’s safe.”
You raised your eyebrows and remained silent.
“Is this really what you want to talk about?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you found Lucifer’s hideout?”
“I was a little preoccupied…”
“Not too preoccupied to make arrangements to send me away.”
“That…” and for a moment he appeared to struggle to find his next words. “…was a calculated decision.”
“Based on what?"
“I was trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need you to protect me,” he scoffed at that, but you kept going. “I need you to let me in. Were you really just going to send me away with no word of warning? Without so much as a goodbye?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if I die, I need to know that you’re nowhere near him. I need to know that you’re far away and safe. I,” he took a deep breath. “I need to know that he won’t touch you. And this…”
His eyes went far away, lost in his plans for what was to come. But you leaned forward in your seat, searching for his gaze, to bring him back and let him know that you weren’t buying it.
“This doesn’t ensure that. You dying, alone doesn’t protect me, Dean.” His eyes narrowed and lifted as if he were about to argue. But he didn’t. Because your face gave it away before your words. “All it’s going to do is break my fucking heart.”
Tears trailed down your cheeks and your hands gripped your arms tighter because you wanted so badly to still be mad at him. To kick, yell, and scream at him that this was the wrong choice. He was making the wrong choice.
He moved forward, helped you to stand then encircled you in his arms, pressed your head into his chest. Your body trembled with every breath as you tried to keep the tide at bay.
“Is there anything I can say to change your mind?”
He pressed you tighter against him.
He didn’t answer.
But that was answer enough.
He was done fighting. You had lost him the second Sam said yes.
You wrapped your arms around his waist, thumbs rubbing into his back.
“Can I stay here tonight?” He asked, with a slight tremor in his timbre.
You held him tighter, breathed him in and responded in the lightest voice you could muster: “I’m offended you have to ask.”
Three Years Later.
The burning ache around your wrists dulled as she concluded her story.
Because that’s all it could really be, right? A story? Within this maddening dream?
The sadness that pulled at her face, weighted her shoulders, and glistened her eyes argued otherwise.
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
A deep breath as she continued to stare into the past.
“After my convoy reached the other camp…” she trailed off, interrupted by your clanging the handcuffs against the radiator.
“Answer me,” you growled, like a caged animal.
“I am,” she returned coldly. “Once the convoy reached the other camp, I headed back to Camp Chitaqua on my own. But there was no one left. Dean failed and the demons had celebrated.
“And now you’re here. Which makes me think the angels still haven’t persuaded Dean to say yes.”
“He won’t.”
She looked at you, firmly back in the present and seemed for a moment to marvel. All the fire within you, the aggressive certainty in a man you believed in and trusted, were flames that had extinguished within herself the day Dean died.
“No,” she said. “Of course, he won’t.”
She stood from her chair and set to releasing your wrists from the cuffs. Once you were free though, you found you could not move. You watched, transfixed as she contemplated her next words.
“Maybe…maybe it’ll be enough if you know that in the few hours we had together,” she paused at the sudden vulnerable expression on your face and smiled as if sharing a secret. “We loved a lifetime’s worth.”
A bright light shone through the cabin windows then, blinding you even as you raised your hands to cover your eyes.
“Knew they would come looking for you,” she said from above.
“What’s going on?”
“If you still think this is a dream, then we are more delusional than we think we are. The angels are looking for you. I kind of stole you, did I mention?”
You pushed yourself to your feet but were only successful in backing yourself into a corner.
Then you heard a shotgun being cocked and her calling out from a much farther distance, “Don’t stop fighting for him. Don’t you stop fighting for him ever.”
When finally the light disappeared, you slowly dropped your hands and peered into the darkness. You were back in the cheap motel room that you had passed out in the night before.
The red digits of the alarm clock glowed up at you from the nightstand.
Summary: You’re awoken by voices coming from the kitchen remember you’ve got company.
Well, that’s what you keep reminding yourself to politely call those dumb as a bag of rocks, Temp V using fucking idiots and the druggernaut Super Supe they’ve got in tow.
Part I Part II Part III
Pairing: Solder Boy x You
Word Count: 3716
*Do not read if you find anything offensive-triggering about/on/from The Boys series
*More warnings will be added in additional parts
Warnings: cursing, verbal arguments, racial/derogatory slurs, sexual situations, loads of marijuana/drugs, PTSD, sexist Supe, more cursing, physical altercations, firearms, knife wielding, still cursing, outdated slang, toxic male attitudes, lots of cursing, Soldier Boy thinking he’s the man and learns about online porn, medical experimentations, reliving long buried memories, possible death by chicken
Square Filled: @anyfandomdarkbingobingo -” Who did this to you?”
*divider by @firefly-graphics
A/N: I’m using season 3 as a template for this so it will contain spoilers from the series mixed with original ideas.
A/N II: this part got way longer than planned but the characters are running the show so blame them.
You’re awoken by voices coming from the kitchen remember you’ve got company.
Well, that’s what you keep reminding yourself to politely call those dumb as a bag of rocks, Temp V using fucking idiots and the druggernaut Super Supe they’ve got in tow.
Laying there you can hear Hughie asking Butcher if he knows..their voices become unintelligible as another pain hits you, finding yourself curling up into a ball waiting for it to pass.
There’s a tap on your door before opening, “sorry to disturb but Hughie’s wonder..” Butcher breaks off shutting the door then he’s sitting on the bed.
“What’s it love, those pains again?”
You grimace nodding.
“What you need is a nice cuppa. I’ll put the kettle on and see ‘bout nickin’ a benzos from beaver cleaver.”
He gently squeezed your shoulder before stepping out hollars, “Oi Hughie, would ya’ put that kettle on the Arthur?”
“Put the kettle on what?”
“..stove.”
“Jesus, speak English..”
“..I did ya’ fuckin’ git!”
It was good to know their banter hasn’t changed with all the shit happening.
Rummaging in the side table drawer fish around for a specific bottle dry swallow a couple capsules overhear Soldier Boy loudly cursing at Butcher before the Brits stomping down the stairwell and out the front door.
Round to the Supe.
A knock and the door slowly opening interrupts your thoughts, “I won’t cut off your balls today,” you half-jokingly reassure Hughie since he’s always acted like a nervous nellie around you.
“Whew, that’s a relief because I forgot to put on my codpiece this morning.”
Rolling your eyes at his craptastic humor shift to sit up against the headboard, taking the offered mug, “oh, this too,” he drops a white pill in your hand.
“Thanks,” you snapped the pill into thirds so Hughie thinks you’ve only swallowed a piece with a swig of tea, “pull up a chair and fill me in on why the others are dodging my calls and where you two dumbfucks dug up portaloo boy.”
Hughie’s eyes got bigger as he sat, “Ahh, how much has Butcher told you?”
“Fuck all, so start at the beginning.”
“Okay, well it started when we found out about this weapon the Russians supposedly killed Soldier Boy with, BCL-RED..”
“..then Legend came in freaking out because there’s two..older ladies on the bed while Soldier Boys..”
“..priming the pump?”
“That image is forever burned on my retinas. Anyway, words were exchanged and then we ended up at your door this morning.”
You feel the drugs mixing in your system find Hughie’s fidgeting annoying, “stop wriggling like a fucking worm on a hook and spit it out.”
“What’d you mean by recycling?”
“Back in the day, Legend kept a certain type of entertainment on retainer for his clients, referred to them as his Supe groupies.”
Hughie still wasn’t getting it, “Jesus you’re thick..16 will get you 20..catch my drift?”
“You mean those women..used to be..Soldier Boy said they were like fine wine..that’s why Legend couldn’t fire..”
“Don’t think he grew a conscience, it’s Jewish guilt.”
“And Phoebe Cates..Oh God..I just threw up in my mouth!”
“Bet you’re wishing you’d bought stock in barf bags right about now.”
Late morning
You're standing at the farm sink listening to Hughie trying to justify why he retrieved only three eggs from the laying hens.
“..scarier than that brain eating hamster..”
“..it’s a fuckin’ chicken.”
“Didn’t you see the sign about Countess?”
“You named that chicken after Soldier Boy's..”
Hughie’s mouth snapped shut as said Supe galumphed in a silk robe flopping on the chair directly across from you lit the joint hanging between his full lips inhales deeply and holds it an fucking impressive amount of time before exhaling like a dragon.
“What’s ball bag bitching about now?”
“Ya’ ex-camgirl namesake.” Butcher smirked.
“Camgirl? That another one of those words he makes up.”
You open a drawer removing one of the burner phones you kept around the house goggle SupePorn.com and turn it so the guys can watch the commemorative video created by SirCumsALot779.
The sounds of Crimson Countess’s fake AF pleasurable moans and squelching fluid fill the now quiet room makes you mentally vomit when you see Hughie backing towards the door and Butcher shift closer, warily watching Soldier Boy when the Supes hand shot out grabbing your wrist yanks you between his splayed legs.
Being in close proximity you can smell the musk he radiates makes you wetter then that dead whore could’ve possibly even gotten for him watch his drugga pupils eclipse the sliver of his verte absinthe irises leaving them dark like a shark.
“Countess wan’t just doing cheap tricks at Vought Land,” Butcher comments from where’s he’s now standing, “caught ‘er ‘bout’ta back door betty a’fuckin’ ginormous string of beads for that blighter there, been dropping coin on ‘er like it’s going outta style.”
“You watch porn on that thing?” He curiously asks you.
“Low budget VHS gone the way of eight tracks.”
Sticking the joint back between his plump lips he takes the phone inspecting it, “how do you use this thing?”
Your hand quivers over the touch screen accidentally brush your fingers against his, his grip tightens.
“You break my ameche, I break your face, capiche?”
“Ameche?” Hughie inquires in dumb-bambi mode, “oh, the cell..why do you keep a burner phone in the kitchen?”
You twist and he relinquishes his grip ease from between those thick, muscular thighs try to regain some semblance of composure reach in the drawer again to retrieve a Sig Sauer P220R.
“I’m a safety girl,” you reply shakily then clear your throat, “excuse me gentlemen,” handing the gun to Hughie, “in case Countess gives you any more grief over those eggs.”
Two and half weeks later
“Get off my jock!”
Hughie came in from the poach found annoying as fuck lounging in the recliner again, robe partially open sans underwear turned his attention to where the yelling came from, “who’s she talking to?”
“Your ex-snatch.”
“Don’t call her that, her name is Annie.”
“Annie musta got her rocks off pegging a..”
“Don’t you dare hang up..fucking Supe cunt!”
*Text>Serge, call me, it’s important!” not twenty seconds later you answer it.
“What the fuck, why y’all ignoring me Frenchie..are you using again..okay, okay I get it. Listen, I need all the stuff Mothers got..don’t play stupid, I know about your little vay-k to Ruskieland..no, I haven’t heard from either of them..don’t fucking care what Mother says..Alors parle-moi en français pour qu'il ne sache pas!”
**Then speak to me in French so he don’t know!
“What’s the deal with the frog and slant cunt..”
“Please don’t call them that.”
“Whatever Monistat Seven,” he begins blowing smoke rings while Hughie continues eavesdropping.
“Fuck Mère et son putain de putain de conneries mentales avec Soldier Boy! Je me fiche de la façon dont tu le fais, donne-moi ces fichiers.”
**Fuck Mother and his fucking mental bullshit drama with Soldier Boy! I don’t care how you fucking do it, get me those files.
“So what’s her deal?
“Huh?”
“How’d a fine ass bitch like her wind up with you fucking miscreants?”
“Y/N used to work for Vought, archives I think.”
”Think or know?”
Hughie tears his attention away from you, “what the fucks with the questions about Y/N? You’ve shown little interest in anything you can’t swallow, snort, kill, or fuck..oh no, you keep your dick away from her, she’s off limits!”
Instead of lashing out with his usual vulgarity and threats he says, “just curious. Seems like a flimsy reason for muff muncher to have recruited her. Gotta be more to it than she was just a librarian.”
Soldier Boy's expression, not the first time, became melancholy. “From what I’ve seen of you idiots, it takes some majorly fucked up shit to break the trust between you,” referencing his team he trusted before Nicaragua, “so why’re they icing her out?”
Hughie mentally kicked himself.
Despite an intense dislike of the Supes outdated attitudes; the overtly macho, arrogant, prone to violence against whoever disagreed with him or considered weak, no qualms in manipulating others, especially women, to garner what he wanted. But when he’d stop being Soldier Boy he’d open up..usually when coming down from the bennies and the booze loosening his tongue.
Conversations of the past, about his life over the decades in the realm of fame and a fair amount of nausea-inducing stories containing reprehensible deeds done with other famous persons, revealed he once dreamed of normal, becoming a father with the Countess and raising sons to be real men, whatever that concept meant in his head.
Then outta nowhere he’d get that expression, leaving unspoken the thing that haunts him but Hughie was smart enough not to press his luck and ask who did this to you?
“Something happened with Grace, no one knows what, and Y/N left shortly before the group's disbandment in 2015.”
The Supe went back to blowing smoke rings, feeling a nagging around the edges of his memories that’d started the moment you stood illuminated from behind in that nightshirt, doing little to disguise your sumptuous curves, eyes screaming recognition at not just knowing who he was but knowing him.
“If you insist on letting your freak flag fly, have Butcher pick up some bras ball wax ‘cause grass on the field went out with bearded clam,” you bark heading down the hall loudly shut your bedroom door.
He peered down at his exposed junk and..
“What’re you ogling nob gobbler?”
Six weeks later
The house was becoming a tinderbox.
Annie hadn’t let up with her IG posts after Herogasm and kept rejecting all of Hughie’s attempts to contact her, putting him into a funk.
Mindstorm, a paranoid fuck from the go, had dozens of aliases and as many properties to hide out on in a three-state radius slowing the search for him.
And there was Black Noir, who’d done runner after seeing the video of his back from the dead captain's revenge on the Countess and not one of Butchers or your contacts had a fucking clue where the ninja wannabe had vanished to led to a mutual decision to lockdown Soldier Boy on your thankfully extensive property.
Of course when informed it sent him into the foulest of verbal tirades the likes of you hadn’t heard in years finally ordering him out of the house to take his frustration out on the old barn you hadn’t demonstrated yet.
He wouldn’t lay off the blow and it didn't help when confronted about his PTSD told Butcher, "okay, first off, I don't have shell shock, fuck you."
Yeah right, and you had ocean front property in Arizona.
Butchers went from obtaining a pound of weed to bricks to blunt his edginess and all of you had a constant contact high from his various combos of blunts.
It sure a shit wasn’t helping the longer he was in your presence, the harder he was trying to get in your pants, pissing Butcher and Hughie off, all unaware it wasn’t because you had the only putang in a twenty mile radius.
Thanks to one of the side effects from the original Comp V, the Supes constantly pumping out androstenone and it’s messing with your endocrine system to the point the specific meds you need to keep it balanced were becoming ineffective, hence the pains, and the copulin your producing is overstimulating his already extreme sex drive.
Fuck, your vehement hatred for Vogelbaum is resurfacing in spades.
*Private conversation sometime later
“Hughie, you wouldn’t happen to know who Mothers provider is?”
“As a matter of fact, I hooked him up with his current one a year ago.”
“I can backdoor and download those video files, maybe figure out what is in the physical ones he won’t send.”
You waited until everyone had turned in before entering your office.
Checking the connection, you insert the Air Pods and click the first MP4 file, the time stamp shows it was five months after Soldier Boy was captured.
It’s a routine examination of the unconscious Supe restrained at wrists and ankles, clad in nothing but a mask feeding whatever the Russians created to keep him unconscious.
You watch the video files progress over the decades from fairly placid routine examinations escalating to the sadistic testing of his physical resilience to external/internal damage.
A person thrusts a scalpel in his left eye and breaking free violently kills them before being gassed back into unconsciousness, a PP-19 Vityaz is fired into his mouth, the handheld saw with diamond blade applied to various parts of his body, acetylene torches left burning on one spot for hours, various corrosive fluids poured through tubes inserted down his throat, into his urethra and rectum and being placed, while conscious, in a container watch as the attached geiger counter ticks upwards with the massive doses of radiation released.
The videos would be hard enough to watch muted but the sounds coming through the Air Pods; his cursing and threats, sometimes turning to pleas, followed by unending agonized screams till Soldier Boy either succumbs to unconsciousness or is gassed down dredged up long-buried memories.
Vogelbaum standing outside the labs glass viewing window with the others..pages flipping on clipboards..chatting about previous results and what moderations were made for this round of testing..a tech in biohazard gear..your chests constricting and breath coming out in labored gasps turning into..
Spots exploded behind your eyes and your left cheeks throbbing like you’ve been sucker punched by an eighteen-wheeler when a violent shake makes you snap-focus.
Soldier Boys kneeling in front of you, eyes saying that, without a doubt, as hard as he just hit you confirms his suspicion..you’re a Supe.
“Ouch you motherfucker, what was that for?”
“You were screaming the fucking house down ‘fraid you’d give mayonnaise eater a heart attack.”
“For someone who thinks streaming is a fad, you've picked up modern slang PDQ,” you smart off rubbing your sore cheek peer over his shoulder as a bug-eyed Hughie comes in ahead of Butcher, carrying a large black plastic bag and gashed cheek, “fuckin’ hell, wha’ goin’ on? I heard’ya from the bloody car!”
You move to get up but your legs have jelloize so the Supe grabs your arm lifting up like you weighed nothing, “she must've fallen asleep working and had a nightmare, right?”
Holy shit!! You can’t believe he didn’t rat out you.
“Yeah, crazy dream..Countess had de-evolved into a T-Rex..”
“What’s with you people an’that fuckin’ chicken? Bunch of blooming nutters!” He glances at Hughie, “get dressed, gotta lead on Mindstorm needing checked out.”
“Oi wanker,” tossing the bag, “that’ll have’ta hold ya’ over for a bit.” He points at you, “if you lay one finger on ‘er while we’re gone..”
“You’ll what?”
“Stow the Alpha crap!” You snapped at both fuckers, “I’m sick and tired of your pissing contest! He may be a manipulative bastard who’s done a shit tone of reprehensible stuff and so have you Butcher, but he’s never forcibly raped anyone!”
“Wadda ’bout Gunpowder's complaints of finger diddling?”
“I smacked the kid around a bit but never bad place touched him.”
Butcher opens his mouth but you cut him off, “for some unfathomable reason you believe I need protecting. I mean, why else would you’ve left bitch boy behind..”
“Hey, I’m standing right here!” You give Hughie the look, “and I’m gonna get dressed now.”
Rubbing your forehead, notice how clammy it is, “God, feel like I’m covered in flop sweat.”
“I can help you get clean, scrub your back or anywhere..” you interrupt before the Supe gets any further.
“William, he’s taken the piss.”
You come out of your private bath to find Soldier Boy seated on the picture windows bench seat between the built-ins using his eagle head knife to finely cut a substance on an antique side table before adding it to a roll paper mixture by his elbow then seals it.
“What’s with the,” he gestures to your t-shirt wrapped hair. “It doesn’t damage like towels do while drying.”
Sitting down you lean back against one built-in, “what’d you lace that Bob Hope with?”
Tapping the side of his nose, “guaranteed to kill a blue whale but mellow out a Supe like nothing else.”
“Seriously?”
“Mm-hmm, you need something to take the edge ‘cause wiggin’ out like that,” his jaw ticked, “you never stop remembering what created it.”
“Step one,” leaning over he snorted one of several lines, “Legend always has the best Star-Spangled Powder, not like that flake shit the limey bastard gets.”
“Step two,” gestures to you to do a line picks up the blunt flicked the old butane lighter he’s had since WWII lit up the blunt watches you blink rapidly at the burning sensation in your nasal passages and sucks in a lungful rasps out, “Step three,” catching you unawares he sprang forward nailing you with a shotgun kiss.
The dope's vapor hits your system like an aphrodisiac, all your resistance instantaneously dissolves and, once again, you turn the tables roughly knocking the Supe on his back straddle his hips and he smirks up at you.
“I do like the aggressive type.”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?”
He responds by tugging the shirt off and tangling his thick fingers into your damp hair jerked you into a bruising kiss that was all teeth and tongue before he's breathily asking, “is this why you had a falling out with Mallory?”
“Fucking cock tease,” you grunt out grinding your core against his hard as his shield member, “yes, she kicked me to the curb over my hair dying technique.”
“Fucking smart ass,” his lush lips move over your necks delicate skin, “was it you're being familiar with weaponry? Those booby traps around your property; special ops would be envious.”
“You’ve met my associates, where the hell do you think I learned..”
"..so how’d she find out?”
You abruptly sit back, “what game are you playing at,” moving to get off him he tightened his grip in your hair, “these last week's you’ve been driving me crazy like no woman ever has. I know it's something to do with these,” reaching behind a pillow he took out the pill bottle from your nightstand, “don’t know what this shit is but I know Vought pharma when I see it!”
“You damn well know Vought's got their mitts in everything..”
“..why am I the only one being affected by your tang without actually being between your thighs?”
“Good night, Ben,” jamming your thumb into a pressure point he loosened his grip and you slid off him wobble to your bed not caring your hairs still damp crawl on top grabbing the body pillow curl up around it.
You laid there half lucid as the drugs dwindled your consciousness began humming that tune, the one who’s words you lost, that had brought you comfort after Vogelbaums tests on the car ride home.
The pissed off Supe snorts the other lines licks the pad of his index finger swiped up the bits left rubbing it over his gums sits back stares out the window puffin the blunt intending to ignore you when the tune travels across the quiet room triggering a long-forgotten memory from another time.
~~~
The bedcurtains open and the covers are flung off.
“Wake up Benjamin,” his governess snapped at him in her clip accent, “it's 7:00 and your father demands you present yourself promptly at 7:45. Stupid child, you’re as lazy as those wogs he employs in his mills!” Her heels echoed on the wooden floor as she left.
Benjamin slid out his barely warm bed, felt the bitterly cold floor under his small feet, penetrating his bones to the marrow, whimpers crossing to his clothes chest and pulling out his thick winter undergarments began dressing himself.
By the time he finished tying his boots the bedroom door reopened and he’s greeted by a smiling Mary, the cook's assistant who brought his meals every day.
“There’s my handsome young man, eat up before it’s cold.” She stayed till he’s done, chatting away about the latest household gossip.
While Mary tries to stay cheerful, they both know this is the last time they’ll get to share secrets now he’s turned six and leaving to attend boarding school as his father did.
When he’s done, Benjamin's eyes fill with tears.
“We canna have that, spoiling those bonnie green eyes with tears.”
Using a corner of her pinny dabs his face dry, “there, all better. Now, we're not gonna pretend you’re not gonna be sad, so when ya’ feel down, sing our special song to yourself, it’ll put the happy back inna.”
Holding out her hands he steps up on her booted feet and they dance, singing together one last time.
~~~
A bubble of anger rolled up from his depths.
Where did she learn that fucking song?
He got up intent on beating the truth outta her saw something in his peripheral and froze, there’s an old photo of himself in a shadow box.
Lifting it off the shelf finds the other half blocked by a child’s vintage wood block sits back down removes its back and takes both items out, instinctively knowing they were a key in the puzzle that was Y/N examines the old block first, its colors faded with time, sat it on the table.
Delicately lifting the equally aged picture between his extraordinarily strong fingers notices the ink stamp on its back.
March 1
Vought R&D Laboratory
The Supes heart rate increased and not from the drugs, hesitant to flip the photo over, “suck it up you pansy ass cry baby bitch..I'm not a fucking pussy!”
In the photograph he’s clad in his Supe-suit sitting cross-legged on a colorful, cartoon animal area rug mirthfully smiling at a thirteen-month-old girl in a sunny yellow dress holding the wood block out to him.
Summary: Dean's upset when a Cupid marks him with an arrow but not his soulmate, or so he thinks. As he struggles to come to terms, he calls her everything other than her actual name, though maybe that's just a part of getting struck by true love.
Pairing: Dean x reader
Fandom: Supernatural
Square: Excessive nicknaming of characters @howbadcanitbebingo
Word Count: 1,248
Warnings: language, name calling, kissing, implied smut (established friends with benefits relationship), fluff
A/N: Something silly just for fun. Enjoy... and Happy Valentine's Day 💝 Written for @howbadcanitbebingo.
_____
"Stupid, Cupid." Said Dean, walking into the motel room, stripping off his soaked jacket and throwing it onto the chair.
"What are you muttering over there, sourpuss?" You asked, pulling off your wet clothes since you guys had gotten caught in the rain chasing down the monster of the week.
Which turned out not to be the cupid you ran into, who of course Dean just had to go and make friends with. He wasn't a fan and he made sure to tell you that every two minutes on the ride to the motel.
There wasn’t much privacy in the room to begin with and since the two of you had a sort of friends with benefits thing going on for a while now, you didn’t care to cover up. You’d certainly seen it all and so had Dean.
"Nothing, sweetheart." He brushed you off, muttering under his breath, "...dumb, giant baby."
With Valentine’s day fast approaching, Sam took some time off to go who knows where, doing who knows what with Eileen. Leaving you to deal with one very grumpy Dean. He’d been in a mood since the start of the case and there’d been nothing you could do to snap him out of it. And you tried everything, until you’d finally had enough of his attitude.
"That’s it! What is wrong with you, De?" You snapped, tossing your wet shirt at him, leaving you in your bra and jeans. It hit him in the face with a satisfying slap sound and you giggled at the face he made.
"I'm not even talking to you, nosy parker." He stated, his eyes lingering a little too long on your chest to just be friends and he muttered again, "...frigging, wingless diaper muncher."
"You're obviously not talking to anyone else, old man." You bickered, putting your hands on your hips and staring at him.
"Don't start with me, sunshine- And you're not a hell of a lot younger than me so I'd watch it, dollface." He said, pulling off his wet shirts and tossing them in the pile on the ground with yours.
It was your turn to cast him a lingering glance. He was the perfect combination of soft and muscular and you bit your lip trying to trap a sigh. Your cheeks heating up too quickly, but he didn’t notice, too busy trying to hide his own growing feelings for you.
"I know but you get so angry when I call you a geezer. It's adorable." You smirked, you didn’t know why but you always loved teasing him when he was already annoyed.
"And you think that's funny, little girl?" He asked with a raise of his eyebrows.
"Uh-huh, plus I think you're kinda cute when you're all flustered, tough guy." You chuckled.
“I’m not the one who’s redder than a tomato right now, jiggles.” He pointed out, finally noticing the hue in your cheeks.
"Whatever, nipple sucker."
"Hey. You like it when I do that, pumpkin." He said matter-of-factly, his tongue peeking between his lips as he grinned at you and tilted his head.
“That was one time-”
“And every other time after that-”
“Shut up or it’s never happening again, dork.” You threatened, feeling even hotter than before.
“I can hold out a lot longer than you can, sweetness.” He bet, sliding his jeans down his thick thighs, leaving him in just his fitted red boxers. The ones with the little black hearts that you'd gotten him. He watched you squirm and bite the inside of your cheek as you filled with need. “Tough noogies, kitten.”
“Tease.” You called him.
“Brat.”
“Jerk.”
“Ass-butt.”
"Watch it, Dean, your Cas is showing... Hoser." You muttered.
"Excuse me, peanut, what did you just call me?"
"...Honey."
"That's not what you said, darling." He shook his head.
"How would you know, weirdo? You've been ignoring me all night; muttering insults every time you think I'm not listening, dick." You cursed, finally calling him out on it.
"Not everything’s about you, cupcake." He shook his head.
"Sure it's not, babe." You rolled your eyes, if it hadn’t been something you’d done, it had to be about you. Otherwise, you would’ve gotten it out of him by now, you always did. Sam called it your superpower. “You know I’ll get it out of you sooner or later, buddy, and I’d rather not do this all night. I’ve got other plans in store for you, big guy.”
"If you must know, princess, that damn cupid jabbed me with an arrow before he disappeared. So I'm not really in the mood for your teasing. Alright, buttercup?" Dean explained dryly.
"Alright... Why aren’t you with your soulmate then, Casanova?" You continued to tease ever so slightly.
"The butthead didn't mark her. Said something about karma- I don't know, he was still pissed that I punched in the face, the cry-baby." Dean rolled his eyes, he never liked cupids, especially when they greeted him with a hug in their birthday suit no less.
"Oh... Are you sure about that, handsome? I mean, how do you even know who she is?" You asked, chewing on the edge of your thumbnail.
"Trust me, beautiful, I know. I felt it before he even touched me, it's just more... intense now." He said, his emerald eyes searching yours for something.
"So what are you gonna do about it, Romeo?" You egged him on, knowing exactly how he was feeling.
"Not much I can do, sugarplum." Dean breathed with sad eyes, avoiding your gaze.
"You sure about that, stud muffin?" You asked, scrunching up your forehead.
"Yeah..." He sighed.
"Yeah?" You questioned, squinting up at him and grinning like an idiot.
"Uh- what are you getting at, chipmunk?" He replied, mirroring your grin after a moment.
"He marked me too, squirrel." You admitted, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth and letting it go slowly.
"When?!"
"While you were renting the room, dumby. Cupids don't mess around with true love, love-bug.” You said, noticing a look of relief in his bright eyes, like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. “So, good-looking, you like me, eh?" You asked, wetting your lips in antici... -pation.
"Cuddle bug, you have no idea." He breathed, closing the distance between you far too slowly for your liking.
"Why don't you show me, squishy." You pulled him down by the back of his neck and into a needy kiss.
His lips slipping between yours as he struggled to keep up, still shocked that you were actually meant for him this whole time. He loved the idea of that, belonging to each other after craving all of you for so long. You were written in the stars together.
"Pretty girl, wait.” He panted, breaking the kiss but staying close enough to feel your moist breath on his skin. He was having second thoughts already 'cuz let's face it, it's Dean; he never thinks he's good enough even when he most definitely is. “Maybe we should call Cas, maybe he can reverse this."
"Is that even what you want, doofus?" You pleaded, just wanting to keep on kissing him.
"No, Y/N/N. Of course I want you, angel.” But he had to ask one last time. “You sure you want me for keeps, baby girl?"
"Shut up and kiss me, tiger." You moaned, pulling him down to meet your lips again, letting out a small squeak when he nibbled on your bottom lip and unhooked your bra.
Characters: Sam x OFC (Natalie); Dean and Crowley mentioned
Rating: Explicit
Summary: Sam’s life has taken a decisive turn.
Word Count: 912
Created for @howbadcanitbebingo
A/N: I’m so excited about posting something for the first time in months. Writing has been tough, but I hope this is the first of more to come. It’s a drabble, but it’s done! I haven’t written anything quite like this before. Thanks for the OOC square @howbadcanitbebingo .
I tried. Honestly, I did, but sometimes it just isn’t worth it anymore. Dean is done. Because of him, I kept on fighting everything that goes bump in the night, all the evil, every twisted thing imaginable for far longer than I otherwise would have. If I’d known things would end up like this, maybe I would have let him do it without me.
Everything we faced and defeated together didn’t matter. In the end, he chose Crowley and being a demon. After all the time I spent looking for him, he told me to fuck off and nearly broke my arm. Fine. That’s it. Dean can be a demon.
I could have had a degree from Stanford. Maybe it’s not too late to go to college. Law doesn’t hold the appeal it once did. Can’t really see any reason to fight for justice when there isn’t any, but there are other options.
I learned one thing spending the last ten years on the road with Dean. Fighting for right will drain you dry until you have nothing left to give. What did all that putting my life on the line, being possessed, and going to hell get me? My brother’s a demon, a demon who doesn’t want to be saved, and I don’t have the normal life I gave up to be a hunter. That’s okay. I have plenty to do without him.
I hold my empty glass up in the direction of the waitress. “Another one.”
She smiles at me before she turns to get my drink. I know what that smile means. It’d be easy to fuck her. As she walks away, I check her out. Girl’s got a nice ass. I think I have plans tonight.
She puts my fresh whiskey down on the table, making sure to bend over and give me a good view of her cleavage while she does it. I let my eyes linger there. She’s offering the view, I’m going to enjoy it.
“What’s your name?” I ask her, slowly bringing my eyes up to hers.
Her smile is even bigger now. “Natalie.”
“What time do you get off, Natalie?” She’s pretty. We’ll have a good time.
Natalie’s fun, and she’s even better looking with her clothes off. That cleavage she was showing off doesn’t disappoint. Her tits are soft in my hands, and she’s so responsive. The sound she makes when I pull one of her nipples into my mouth is a sound I’ve never heard in bed before. Makes me forget I don’t have a brother anymore.
She’s tight and warm. The way she’s clenching my cock, I need to focus to keep from coming too soon. Not yet, I want this to last a little while longer.
I’m enjoying the noises she’s making. I like that I can do that to her. The more she claws at my back, the harder it is to hold off. Finally, I let go, and my mind goes blank. There’s nothing but my throbbing cock and the relief that brings.
For a few minutes after, I lay with her. I remember Jessica, but not for long. It’s only a flash in my mind. Her face, the way she once smiled at me. Then it’s gone. It doesn’t mean anything anymore.
I roll back to Natalie for another go. This time it’s rougher, and she likes it. She’s on her hands and knees; the sound of my skin slapping hers is loud, so loud I imagine that the people in the next room can hear it, and they’re jealous of the fucking I’m getting.
It’s a game for me to see just how deep inside her I can get. The deeper I go, the louder she moans. I grab a handful of her hair and pull her head back.
“You’re a bad girl, aren’t you?” I smack her ass when I say it, and her pussy tightens around my cock. It makes me come again.
This time, there’s no lingering in bed when we’re done. I get up and get dressed. My plaid shirt goes on last. It reminds me of who I used to be and what I used to do, but there’s no nostalgia. I wasted a good chunk of my life.
“Room’s paid for tonight if you want to stay,” I tell her.
“You’re leaving?” she asks, like she’s surprised. Maybe she is, but she really shouldn’t be. I didn’t do anything to give her the idea I’d stay.
“Yeah, I’ve got some business in Santa Fe.” That’s a lie. I kept the magic credit card from Charlie. I never have to do anything again, and that’s probably a much better idea than going back to college.
Once I turn from her, I don’t look back. The door closes behind me, and I take the first steps across the parking lot. Baby is waiting for me.
It feels good sitting in the driver’s seat. I turn the key in the ignition and hear her rumble to life. My eyes close, and I listen to her purr. When I open them again, I put her into gear and pull onto the highway.
Somewhere out there Dean is with Crowley. His eyes are black, and he’s doing what demons do. I click on the radio. “Stairway to Heaven” is playing; the music has a lulling sound, but it isn’t a comfort. My brother liked this song. Maybe the demon does too. I don’t know.
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Talk about a challenge... oy vey. This one is gonna be HARD because I am such a perfectionist when it comes to my writing. I’m gonna try it, but eh, it’s gonna be difficult. Lol. Get your own cards here! @howbadcanitbebingo
Purple prose more purple than Prince’s Purple Rain
Square filled for @howbadcanitbebingo: Being trapped and sex must be ensue
Summary: It’s your birthday and one of your favorite fantasies comes true.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Soldier Boy x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Reader
Rating: Explicit
Words: 3.333 😂
Warnings: language, naughty dreams, fantasies, fangirling, RPF, smut, p in v, unprotected sex, taking turns, creampie, a hint of oral (male rec), breeding kink, cuckolding (kinda), I’ll label this slightly dub-con (not to me but before anyone complains…), spanking, I mention gunplay, mentions of anal sex (nothing happens, though), marathon fucking, Plot? What plot? it’s basically just fucking with Jensen Ackles’ characters
A/N: It’s my birthday and I do with them what I want to.
Dream a little dream… masterlist
It's a little past 1 am when you finally shut the TV off. You rub your tired eyes, yawning as you must get up for work in not six hours. Binge-watching all episodes of The Boys after you just had a Supernatural marathon wasn’t your best idea.
You can’t help it. Jensen Ackles will be the death of you, or rather his characters Dean Winchester and Soldier Boy.
“Fuck! That was intense,” you gasp as you remember every scene with Soldier Boy, your favorite actor’s new role. “He just killed a man using his shield. He’s a sexy and dark version of Captain America but so, so fucking hot!”
You wish there wasn’t an ache between your legs or that you already know another naughty daydream will keep you awake for much longer. “Maybe I should take care of you first. What do you say, little slut? Pink rabbit or the big guns tonight?”
“Fucking get up from the bed,” you mutter in your sleep as someone just kicked your bed. “Bitch, get out of the bed. Where am I and why can’t I leave this room?”
“Fuck, leave me alone, mom. I want to sleep some more,” turning around you wrap your arms around your pillow, hugging it tightly. “I just had the best dream. Get out of my room.”
“Miss, uh—there is no mom, and you are alone,” another voice reaches your ears. It’s a softer one, but still rough and low. “Miss, you gotta wake up. We need answers.”
“Just a minute longer,” hiding your face in your pillow you whine as someone tries to drag your blanket off of your body.
“Get out of the bed,” a third voice gruffly growls in your ear. You can feel his breath fan over your exposed back as he removes the blanket to expose your naked body to the others. “SONOFABITCH!”
“Hello there, the little kitten is a naughty one,” the first voice says while stepping closer to your bed. “Maybe I should have a closer look at her. I can imagine a thing or two I’d like to do to her to get answers.”
“Sir, I must ask you to not touch the woman. We just arrived here and I think she’s the only person able to help us get out of here,” the second voice tuts. “We shouldn’t hurt her, guys. I mean it. Let’s just talk to her.”
“I know what happened. She’s a fucking witch and summoned us. I swear if you hurt my brother you are dead, witch,” you blink your eyes open as someone pokes your arm. “Get out of the bed, sweetheart. We are going to have a long conversation. Don’t make me get my gun out.”
“Gun?” now you lift your head to look into familiar yet foreign eyes. “What? WHAT THE FUCK!” you jolt up on your bed, screaming as Dean Winchester, your favorite fictional character, stands right in front of you. “Dean Winchester from Supernatural? How’d you get out of my dreams and into my bedroom, dude?”
“In flesh and blood,” gasping you grasp for the blanket to cover your modesty. “So, how do you know me?”
“I-I just watched like ten episodes of Supernatural and this must be a dream…an odd one. Usually, you are naked and between my legs or on top. I guess this is another crazy dream. It’s just, I never smelled you before.”
“Stop talking to that bitch,” you squeak as someone roughly grabs your ankles to drag you off the bed. You land on your ass, grunting as another man stares down at your naked form. “If you don’t give me answers, I’ll force them out of you.”
“OH FUCK! That’s Soldier Boy,” fuck, you whimper like a needy slut as the supe roughly grasps for your arms to force you on your feet. “So strong and tall.”
“Fucking pathetic slut,” he pushes you around and roughs you up a little before you end up pressed against the wall. You can feel his suit rub against your exposed body and to your shame, you start to grind your ass into his crotch. “What’s wrong with you?”
“May I?” you whip your head toward the last man in the room, gasping as Jensen freaking Ackles stands next to you while the man behind you starts to fondle your tits. “Miss, we all saw a blinding light, and then, we were in your room. Do you know—”
“She’s a witch,” Dean barks. “Lemme get my gun out and press the truth out of her.” A whimper leaves your lips at his words. “Oh, you’d like that, don’t you? All those toys didn’t get you off, huh?”
“I will get the answers right fucking now,” Soldier Boy fumbles his pants open with one hand while the other creeps between your legs to toy with your clit. “She’s fucking wet.”
“That’s a lot of fucks,” Jensen complains. “Can we not just sit down and talk. Maybe she’ll help us on free terms. She doesn’t look like a kidnapper or killer.”
“I’m not, oh fuck me,” you feel the wide head poke your entrance. Soldier Boy forces you on tiptoes as he roughly shoves his length inside of your hungry cunt. “FUCK!”
“That’s a tight little cunt for me to enjoy,” Dean steps next to you, and hungrily stares at your chest. He licks his lips, debating to join the sins the man wearing the same face commits right in front of him. “Yeah, you will tell me everything for an orgasm, won’t you.”
You struggle to answer as Soldier slowly starts to rock his hips. He’s so thick you fear he’ll tear you apart if he goes any faster, or harder…or anything. “Please, I—you’re too big.”
“Nah, you’re not used to getting fucked by a real man, is all, my little slut,” he casually says while wrapping one large palm around your throat. He holds you against the wall, as he starts to move in earnest.
Soldier Boy is not the kind of man for foreplay or slow sex. No, he slams into you and makes you cry out at the force he uses just for fun. “She looks like…” Jensen stammers. “Fuck, she likes it rough.”
“Harder,” you can’t move or, even breathe right but a single word slipped past your lips. “P-lease.”
“You want it harder?” pressed against the wall you can only whimper in return. “Good girl. I’ll give you harder.”
“Don’t break her, man,” Dean growls now. His eyes glued to your blissed-out face he smirks darkly. “Or break her and I’ll ruin her completely after you are done.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Soldier Boy spears you open with every unforgiving thrust. He doesn’t care if you get off or suffocate. All he wants is to fill your cunt over and over again until you are a begging mess. “I fuck that whore now.”
“I want a turn too,” your eyes roll back as the man holding your life and body in a tight grip angles his hips. He rubs against your g-spot, making you moan loudly. “Move faster and get off. I want her on the bed, full of my cock.”
“Okay, this is weird,” Jensen huffs as you cry out with every thrust. You are nothing but a hole to the man fucking the life out of you. He roughly grips your shoulders and holds you against the wall all the while sledgehammering into your soaked cunt. “Usually, I don’t watch my characters fuck someone.”
“Get it in your thick skull, Ackles,” Dean grunts, “we are all here. I don’t know how, but we ended up in that little witch’s bedroom. Whether you help us weaken the powerful creature with our cocks or just sit over there and watch. I don’t care.”
“You mean…I can fuck her too?” Jensen hastily undoes his pants to get his aching cock out. He watches his latest role manhandle you like you are a ragdoll.
“I’m done with her,” Soldier Boy rams into you five, six more times until you feel his cum shoot into you. You don’t know if the orgasm he forced on your body is enough to sate your needs, but your cunt still cries for more when he pulls out and pushes you into Dean’s arms. “Here, you’re next.”
“I can hardly wait,” Dean twirls you around and pushes you onto the bed. You end up face first in the cushions and struggle to get back up. “Stay like this. If you move, I’ll fuck you with my gun instead of my cock.”
“Sonofabitch,” Jensen crawls onto the bed to fist your hair, he smirks darkly as you look up at him with wide eyes. Your lips part on their own and he doesn’t have to tell you to take his cock down your throat. He wouldn’t have, though. Jensen roughly shoves his cock into your mouth, slapping your cheek as you don’t start bobbing your head right away. “Get on your knees and suck my cock.”
“It’s my turn, not yours, Ackles,” the hunter growls behind you. He drags you off of Jensen’s cock, daring the actor to lay claim on you before Dean had his turn. “I’m gonna fuck her and you’ll watch me. After I’m done, you can have her sloppy hole.”
“I want to be next,” the actor tries to push Dean away, grunting as the hunter won’t budge. “You are only a role I played. I’m the main act here.”
“Can you not share?” you whimper as both men stare down at you. “I could suck Jensen off while you fuck my pussy.”
“No,” Dean pushes your face into the cushions and lifts your butt. “This won’t turn into a threesome. I fuck your cunt and later, he can have you.”
“And after the actor is done, it’s my turn again,” Soldier Boy runs his hand up and down his already half-hard cock. “Aw, look at you on the bed, waiting for another cock to use you. You’re a little slut, aren’t you?”
“YES,” you hiss when Dean roughly grips your hips to drive right into you. He’s grunting behind you, not missing that you moan at the fulness. “He’s thick too. Just like you, Sir.”
“Calling me Sir won’t get you anywhere,” you weakly lift your head to watch Jensen and Soldier Boy stroke their cocks. “Maybe if you take it up to your ass like a big girl, you are forgiven for bringing us here.”
“Don’t, witch,” you can only take Dean’s pace as she slaps your ass anytime you try to push back onto him. “You will take what I’m willing to give to you, whore. If not, your ass will be raw when I’m done with you.”
“Aw, he’s not nice to you, huh?” Soldier Boy mocks you while Dean slaps both of your cheeks with full force. You cry out but clench tightly around his shaft as the pain pushes you toward a much-needed second release. “Look at that slut. She loves to get slapped and used. How about you become my sex slave?”
Eyes glassy you look at Soldier Boy, nodding silently as a pair of rough hands spanks your ass until you cry. “Shut it. You’re nothing but a cum dumpster to me. I’ll kill you if you don’t get us out of here.”
“Not before I had my turn,” Jensen watches your weak attempt to rock your hips. You are painfully close to another orgasm and don’t want Dean to take it away from you. “Give her another orgasm. Don’t be cruel, Winchester.”
“Shut up, Ackles,” Dean slaps your cheeks roughly again. He smirks as you mumble praises into the cushions. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You took me so well, now cum.” The hunter grabs the back of your neck and holds you down as he starts to pump faster into you. “Right now, or never.”
“AH…oh…fuck,” you clamp down hard onto his thick length, dragging Dean with you over the edge. “So good…so fucking good. I’ll never let you leave my bedroom again.”
“I dare you to not let us go,” the hunter slaps your ass one last time. “Actor, your turn. After you are done, we will interrogate her.”
“Aw, look at you all fucked out and no rational thought left,” Jensen teases as he climbs onto the bed. “Now, how shall I fuck you? Bend over the bed, against the wall, on the floor like the whore you are…”
“Just get it done, actor,” Soldier Boy mimics Dean’s voice. “We are tired to watch you act like a man. You’re a pussy, too chicken to fuck her as a man should.”
“Shut up,” the actor growls. “I can fuck her better than any of you ever could. You’re only a tiny piece of the real me. An image, made up by some bad writers.”
You sneer at Jensen’s words. He can’t just ruin your favorite fictional characters for you. “I think little slut disagrees,” Dean says lowly. “Well, then, the stage is all yours. Show us how you can fuck her.”
“I bet he can’t even get his dick inside,” you giggle at Soldier Boy’s words. “Let me have her again. I don’t think Mr. Ackles can’t handle a girl like her.”
“Fuck off,” Ackles growls now. “Maybe I just force her on her knees and let her choke on my cock until I cum hot and heavy down her throat and she won’t get any.”
“That’s not how a man fucks,” Dean sneers. “You fuck her hard, spank her ass if she needs it, or call her slut, but you always make your girl cum.”
“Only if she was a brat you don’t make her cum,” Soldier Boy agrees with the hunter. “Fucking her like a man means to make her beg for more and take everything you have to give. Not to leave her hanging.”
“No fucking for you until you learned how to satisfy her,” crossing his arms over his chest Dean nods at Soldier Boy. “You will sit over there and watch us have our way with our slut.”
“Oh, fuck me…yes,” you whimper, feeling the ache in your cunt return. “But can I suck him off a little? I always wondered if Ackles is packing.”
“A little,” it’s Soldier Boy who grabs the back of your neck to bring you to your knees. He smirks darkly down at you, loving you are a helpless little lamb in front of the big bad wolf he is. “How about he fucks your cunt in this position. You will look at me the whole time he tries to get you off, kitten.”
“O-kay,” you feel Jensen’s cock slide through your folds the moment you agree. “Can you call me slut again?”
“Aw, she’s such a good little slut for us, isn’t she?” Dean muses as you stick your ass out to help Jensen lines his cock up with your slit. “Fuck her deep and hard, Ackles. Show us what’ve you got.”
“Hurry up, I’m rock-hard again,” you grasp for Soldier Boy’s cock, gasping as he tightens the hold on your neck. “Did I allow you to touch me?”
“N-no.”
“Don’t touch me before I tell you so, whore,” Jensen finally slides into you, hands pawing at your waistline to drag you onto his length.
“Fuck.”
“That’s it. Take my cock so deep it hurts, slut,” he starts to move his hips, easily sliding in and out of your ruined cunt. “She’s dripping onto my balls.”
“That’s my cum,” the hunter smirks darkly as he watches your lips part. You hold Soldier Boy's gaze all the while moaning for the man behind you. “Maybe a bit of Mr. Fantastic’s cum too.”
“I don’t fucking care. I will fill this cunt up and breed her. She’s going to be my whore from now on. Everyone watching her walk around town will know Jensen Ackles put a baby in her womb,” you shudder at his words. “You like this, don’t you? Answer me!” He spanks your thigh, making you clench tightly around. “Slut.”
“YES,” Dean chuckles as you longingly look up at Soldier Boy. “Will you fuck me again, Sir?”
“I’m going to fucking ruin this pussy. No man will ever want to go for a ride as I destroyed your hole.”
“Man, I gotta say,” Jensen lazily thrusts into you, “she’s a damn good lay. I can feel her sweet cunt squeeze me tightly. Fuck. I’m gonna cum inside.” You are about to cum again when Jensen speeds up. He can’t hold it any longer and snakes one hand between your legs to furiously rub your clit. “You better cum, now.”
“Cum for me,” Soldier Boy smirks when you make an odd noise. “Now, whore.”
“YES!” the dam breaks once again, drowning you in pleasure as Jensen’s warmth fills your abused cunt. “Fuck, he wasn’t that bad.”
“Not that bad?” Ackles complains loudly. “That was a grand prime fuck.”
“Sweet little kitten,” you moan as Soldier Boy dips his head to greedily shove his tongue down your throat, “I’m sorry you had to endure his sloppy thrusts. I will fuck you again right now and you’ll cum over and over again…”
“Hmph,” you slowly blink your eyes open. “What an intense dream. Shit, even the room smells like sex and cum. That’s what I call a wet dream. It feels as if their cum is still running out of me.”
“Oh, it is, sweetheart,” Dean strolls back into your bedroom, grinning as you are still spread out on your ruined sheets. “Seems like with every orgasm we gave you, we were able to explore another room of your apartment.”
“What?”
“It’s like we reached a new level every time we fucked you,” Soldier Boy stuffs a sandwich into his mouth. A towel hangs loosely around the men’s hips and their hair is still damp from the shower.
“We should get you clean now,” Dean carefully picks you up in bridal style. “I guess you’re not a witch.”
“No, only horny,” you hide your face in his neck, giggling. “I just don’t get how you ended up here.”
“Voodoo?” Jensen joins the party. “I made breakfast and checked on the internet. It seems like everyone knows I disappeared.”
“Same goes for me. Sam won’t stop calling, but I can’t take the call,” Dean grumbles. “I sent him a message.”
“I didn’t check on the news,” Soldier Boy shrugs. “I owe no one shit. If I can stay here and fuck our girl, I’ll adapt.”
“Did you try to leave my apartment?” you carefully try, glancing at the men in your bedroom. “Dean?” You look up at the hunter, searching his face. “Did you try?”
“Well, yeah,” he huffs. “I got out, sent Sammy a message, and got back in. You know, maybe I can stay here for a while.”
“You don’t even know where ‘here’ is, Dean,” you argue but the hunter won’t give in. “Guys, we should find a way to send you back to your universe.”
“I live in your universe,” Jensen clears his throat. “I checked and I am the Jensen Ackles from this world. Can’t say anything about the others, though. I’m not against staying here for a little while. We could try to send the others back while I try to get you full of my babies.”
“God, that wasn’t a dream?” rolling your eyes you groan. “Can we decide on taking a week off to have fun and after, we will try to get Dean and Soldier Boy back home.”
“No,” Dean mutters under his breath. “I’ll stay here. Maybe we can get Sammy here too.”
“I don’t want to leave this place. I like it here,” it seems like none of them wants to leave your apartment for the time being.
“Fine, let’s decide who can fuck me again the easy way,” you look up at Dean. “Don’t go for scissors again, Winchester…”
“Do you think the new mechanic is good?” you look up from your book, frowning as Lisa points at your new neighbor. “He lives next door to you, right? You’re one lucky woman.”
“I didn’t have problems with my car lately. How shall I know?” eyes dropping to the book in your hands you try to ignore the alpha standing in line to get a coffee.
He’s with his brother today and you don’t want to draw much attention toward you. If you mess with an alpha living close to you, you’ve got a problem. “But he’s hot. I bet you asked him to help you with stuff.”
“What? No! I don’t even know him. His brother introduced himself to me, not my new neighbor. He seems to be a loner or grumpy, or whatever,” you shrug. “I got nothing to say about him. All I know is that he moved in next to me. That’s it.”
“Nothing else,” Lisa presses on. “Come on, Y/N. You are single, he is single. Don’t tell me you didn’t try to court him. He’s just your type.”
“He’s not,” Lisa is slowly getting on your nerves. She can be sweet and understand too, but most of the time she tries to play the matchmaker. “I’m pretty sure he’s got omegas drooling all over him. He doesn’t need someone like me to court for him!”
“Someone like—what?” someone should protect Lisa at all costs. She doesn’t understand that not all men, especially alphas like your new neighbor, are not interested in you. You’re just not the omega they would ever go for. “I don’t understand, Y/N. You are smart, pretty, and cute. A perfect match.”
“You forgot to mention fat!” you retort, rolling your eyes as your colleague gasps. “What? It’s true, Lisa. Look at you, and then take a closer look at me.”
“You’ve got curves and boobs I would kill for Y/N,” she argues now. “Why wouldn’t he be interested in you?”
“Believe me when I say, he’s not into me,” closing your book you sigh deeply. “Look, I got that you try to be nice and find a partner for me. It’s just easier when you look like you or any other girl at this place.”
“OH HEY!” you jump a little when Sam, your new neighbor’s brother, stands in front of your table. “I knew it was you. Do you remember me? I’m Sam Winchester, my brother moved in next to you. You helped me the other day.”
“Yeah, hi Sam. Nice to meet you again,” you point at your colleague. “That’s Lisa, my colleague from middle school.”
“I wanted to thank you again for lending me your tools and stuff,” Sam flashes you a perfect smile, making his dimples look even more adorable. “So, what are you two up to?”
“We wanted to have coffee here as our friend started to work at this place as a barista but,” Lisa scrunches up her nose while pointing at the cup of coffee in front of her, “the coffee tastes like—”
“It tastes like ass, Lisa. That was the word you were looking for,” someone behind Sam chuckles at your words, even snorts as you shove the mug out of your way, making a face. “I don’t know if she did something wrong, but it’s just awful.”
“Tastes like ass,” the man behind Sam snickers as he steps toward your table, flashing you a cocky grin, “that’s a good one, sweetheart. Sammy, make a mental note. We need to remember that one.”
“Noted,” Sam rolls his eyes as his brother steals a chair from one of the other tables to sit astride the chair, grinning at you.
“I think Sammy didn’t introduce you to me yet,” the cocky alpha holds out his hand, still smirking at you. “Name’s Dean Winchester, sweetheart. What’s your name?”
“That’s Y/N Y/L/N, your neighbor, jerk!” Sam says as his brother is already eying the untouched pie on the table. “She gave me the tools last week. You remember?”
“Oh, yeah! I think you said something about a neighbor and tools,” Dean nods, eyes glued to the pie. “Do you eat the pie or is it decoration?”
“It tastes…”
“Let me guess,” Dean leans closer to whisper in your ear, making you chuckle, “it tastes like ass too?”
“Yep,” Lisa and Sam fall into a light conversation while Dean steals your plate to check if the pie is eatable. “It’s awful. You really shouldn’t…”
“Sonofabitch! Who made this? That pie is…no…no,” he shudders. Dean scrunches up his nose and retches while fighting the awful taste of the pie. “Sammy, remind me to never come here again.”
“I warned you, Sir,” you quip. “You wouldn’t listen, Mr. Winchester.”
“I love me some pie,” eying the pie Dean debates to have another bite or to give up. “Where can a man like me get a good old slice of eatable pie in this town?”
“Well, ask Y/N,” Lisa jumps in, already pushing you into Dean’s arms. “She makes the best pie in town. If you are a good neighbor, you’ll get a slice.”
“A good neighbor,” he nods thoughtfully, forming a plan in his mind to get his hands on your pie. “How about I’ll shovel snow for you, Y/N? Or I could check on your car.”
“It’s June,” you laugh as his face falls, and he whines low in his throat. “How about you check on my car. I think it made an odd noise.”
“An odd noise,” at this he leans closer to subtle sniff in your direction. “What kind of noise? Can you tell me more? How long did you not let anyone take care of you—I mean your car?” Dean clears his throat as his brother gives him a pointed look. “I’ll check on your car today. When do you have time?”
“I—” you don’t know how to get out of this now. You lied to Dean to give him a slice of your pie for free, not expecting him to check on your car so soon. “I will head home after Lisa and I…”
“I need to check on something,” Lisa lies. “I meant my son wants me to buy…uh,” she struggles to find an excuse to leave you alone with Dean. “You know, stuff for boys.”
“What? But you said…,” she already grasps for her bag to leave you alone. “Lisa, didn’t you want to know about the new schedule?”
“You can text me on Monday, Y/N. Have a great weekend,” Lisa is halfway out of the café before you can even recognize Sam is gone too.
“Where is your brother?” just now Dean looks around the café to find his brother gone. “Is he a magician or something? He was right there not moments ago.”
“He tends to disappear,” Dean shrugs. His eyes drift toward your neck and your mating gland. He licks his lips, as you nervously look down at your book. “So, can I drive you home?”
“My house is like five minutes away from here,” you lie again. “I can walk. No problem.”
“No, no,” the alpha gets his wallet out to pay for your untouched coffee and the awful pie. “I’ll drive you home. And it’s not five minutes away. More like half an hour, Y/N. Do not lie to me, omega.”
You whimper when his features darken and his eyes narrow. His nostrils flare and you can only watch him hold out his hand as he expectantly looks at you.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” he huffs as you get up from your chair. You grab your book, feeling your heart flutter as Dean takes your bag to carry it out of the café.
“I offered my help. You didn’t bother me at all,” Dean walks a little faster to unlock the door to the passenger seat for you. “That’s my Baby.”
“I heard her before,” you bite your lower lip, not wanting Dean to know you heard his car roar more than once. Mostly at night, after he got home from yet another date.
Not that you would watch your neighbor or spy on him and his dates. You are not that kind of woman. Well, at least you try to tell yourself so.
“She’s something else, huh?” he cocks his head, waiting for you to admire his classic car. “It’s a 1967er Impala. Her name is Baby.”
“I got that,” you give him a shy smile. “It’s a nice car, I guess. Honestly, I got no clue about cars, Dean. But it’s a pretty one.”
“Pretty?” the alpha furrows his brows, nods, and agrees with you. “You’re right. It’s a pretty car. Now get inside and let me drive you home.”
You wish you could just run into your house and hide. Spending half an hour in Dean’s car, inhaling his scent, and feeling his eyes watch you any time he got the chance to turned you into a nervous mess.
“Start the engine, sweetheart,” you’ve got no clue what Dean does under the hood of your car. Your car should be fine. In lack of an excuse to not start the engine you turn the key, huffing as it immediately roars to life. “Sounds good to me. What was the noise it made again?”
“I don’t remember. Maybe I just imagined things, Dean,” he closes the hood, wondering what’s wrong with your car.
“I can check on it over the weekend. Maybe I’ll find the problem then,” he offers, hoping to get some pie from you.
“You still want that pie, don’t cha?” you laugh to yourself. Somehow it’s easier for you to talk to the cocky alpha. Every other man would’ve made you nervous. “If you want some, we can share the pecan pie I made.”
“You know how to bribe me,” he lazily leans against your car, looking at your house. He can feel the neighbors watch you and Dean interact. “Can I have a slice now? Coffee would be great too.”
“Damn, you are hard to get rid of, huh?” Dean laughs at your words but won’t leave your side when you get out of the car. “Fine, follow me. I’ll get you that slice of pie I promised to you.”
“Awesome,” following you toward your house Dean winks at your nosy neighbor who watches you with curiosity. “Your neighbors, nosy guys.”
“I guess they are not used to me bringing a man home,” you shrug. “All of them pity me and try to play matchmaker. Mrs. Richardson tried to set me up with her nephew.”
“Why?” the alpha asks while you unlock your door.
“Why what?” you ask, looking over your shoulder.
“Why don’t you bring alphas home?” he leans closer to whisper in your ear. “Is your home messy? I bet you lured me into your house to clean it.”
“Did I tell you lately that you are an ass?”
“Y/N, that’s the best pie I ever ate,” Dean burps and you chuckle as he gets comfortable on your couch. “So, what do you do when you are not offering pie to your neighbors or work at a middle school. What are your hobbies?”
“Not much, I guess,” you shrug. “I like to read and bake. Sometimes I invite Lisa and my other friends for a game night or just binge-watch crap.”
“What about a man in your life?” damn him, he scoots closer, and you can feel his thigh brush yours. “Are you looking for an alpha?”
“They are not standing in line to court for me, if that’s what you want to know,” at that, he moves impossible closer to dip his head and sniff at your neck. “What are you doing?”
“You smell like cherry pie, motor oil, and home,” his hand moves to your thigh, making you shiver as he squeezes your flesh. “I scented you the first day. Sam told me to go to you and ask for tools, but I chickened out. I didn’t want to pounce on you and scare you off. I tried to find a subtle way to court for you.”
“Y-you wanted to court for me. But you don’t even know me. I’m not—I don’t,” you babble nervously. “Why?”
“You know, I watched you for a while. Sam got tired of me trying to figure out how to court for you. He suggested that we follow you to the café and accidentally bump into you. My brother didn’t like that I tried to chicken out again and took matters into his hands.”
“I saw you with other girls,” he digs his fingertips into your thigh. “Don’t try to lie to me, Dean.”
“You saw me with three women, sweetheart,” his lips are suddenly pressed to your cheek. “The blonde was my brother’s fiancé. She helped me decorate my house to impress you. The elder woman was my mother. She wanted to have a look at you.”
“There was a cute redhead too,” you argue, fighting his hands as Dean tries to bring you onto his lap. “DEAN!”
“If you tell her so, she’ll not stop hitting on you, sweetheart,” the alpha purrs low in his throat when he finally manages to bring you onto his lap and wrap his arms around you. ”Charlie is a good friend, or rather the little sister, I never had.”
“I—” in lack of response, you bury your face in his neck to inhale his scent deeply. You’re immediately calmer and relaxed in his arms. “You should let me go. I’m too heavy to sit on your lap.”
“Sweetheart,” he whispers in your ear. “I love every pound on your body. You’re soft, warm and, I’m going to cuddle the hell out of you if you accept that I want to court for you…”
“Only if we never go to that café again,” he chuckles against you. “Their coffee tastes like ass…”
