Eat It, Winchester
Your name: submit What is this?
Dean glanced over at you, a pained expression on his face. He had been awake for about three days, searching tirelessly for a wendigo. You tried to convince him to go get some rest, but of course he wasn’t going down without a fight.
“Dean, seriously.” You tried again, tentatively reaching over to touch his shoulder.
“I’m not going to bed, Y/N.” He shook his head, his brows knit together. You rolled your eyes and grabbed another book, flipping to the middle of it. You tried to focus, but your mind was wandering. Dean took another sip of his whiskey and ran his hands over his tired (handsome) face. You rose from your seat and wandered to the bunkers kitchen to brew yourself a cup of coffee. You threw the refrigerator door open to find something to make Dean; you hadn’t seen him eat since the previous night. You decided to make him a grilled cheese; even if you had to force feed it to him, you would.
You poured him a mug of coffee and slid his sandwhich onto a plate. When you found him he was holding his head up, blinking harshly at the old pages.
“Here,” You said simply, placing the food and drink before him.
“What’s this?” He questioned.
“You need to eat. You’re no good to anyone dead.” He scoffed.
“That’s debatable.” He breathed over his mug. You grimaced and sat beside him.
“You know Dean, I hate it when you do that.” You finally said what you had been thinking. The older Winchester looked at you in surprise. “Excuse me?” Dean asked, his green eyes ready to blaze.
“You heard me, Winchester. I hate it when you do that. When you talk shit about yourself. Do you realize how many lives you’ve saved? How much you’ve done for humanity? I would be dead without you. Sam would be dead without you; Cas too. But I must be a dumbass for caring about you so much, right? Because you’re better off dead. Well aren’t we all, Dean? Eat your fucking food.” You shouted, throwing a napkin at him and storming off to your room.
Dean was always hard for you to understand. He blamed himself for any and every bad thing that ever happened, and you couldn’t bear watching him self-destruct time and time again. Hunting wasn’t a good way to find roots,
Very frequently he’d jerk awake in the middle of the night, with sweat-slicked skin, his emerald eyes damp with tears. You could hear him screaming at night. Sometimes it was a frantic yell for Sam, or a desperate cry of your name, but you never addressed it. Some nights you’d stalk out of your room and wander down the hallway. Sometimes you’d even sit on the floor outside of his room and listen to his screams, trying to figure out whether or not you had the right to barge in and take him in your arms. Would he want you in there? Invading his privacy?
You knew Dean incredibly well and you also knew that broaching the subject would do nothing more than make him defensive. Or overly emotional; which you knew he hated.
When you hear his screams you lie in bed and imagine the torture he endured in hell. All you knew was what he and Sam had told you. For thirty years he persevered.But on his forty-first year he finally broke. He took the knife and slipped off the rack. Even still, his soul shone like a beacon in the deepest depths of Hell. This decent man with his lustful eyes and broken soul; this man was an answer to Heaven’s pleas for help.
Every time Dean sees his reflection he clenches his jaw, and his hand wanders to the print burned into his shoulder. The scars burned into his skin were much deeper beneath the surface.
You slammed the door to your room and crumpled onto your bed. You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks and onto your pillow. You were angry at yourself for allowing Dean to have this effect on you. You swore under your breath and pulled a blanket over yourself.
A moment or so later there was a knock at your door.
“Y/N.” He asked, his voice a shy murmur.
“Go away Dean. Eat that damn grilled cheese.” You replied through gritted teeth.
“I ate it. Thank you.” He answered, his gruff voice catching at the end. He opened the heavy door slightly and poked his head in. “Come on, Y/N.” He spoke quietly, an odd sort of sensitivity clear in his tone. Since you didn’t protest, he entered the room and sat carefully on the corner of your bed, yet you refused to meet his gaze. You kept your eyes trained on the ceiling; your arms crossed over your chest making you look very similar to an angsty teen.
“I didn’t know you felt like that.” He said quietly, his eyes turning to glance at the bed sheet you had tangled yourself in.
“Yeah, well whatever.” You replied despondently, your voice practically the equivalent of rolled eyes. Dean sighed and coaxed you out of your covers.
“Y/N,” He said quietly, trying to convince you to speak. You finally sat up, but you still avoided his eyes. “Dean, I’m just sick of this. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
“Well first of all, I don’t know how you’ve been feeling. You never talk to me.” You eyes widened and you could feel a sarcastic laugh threatening to erupt from your chest.
“You’re joking. I never talk to you?” You stressed, leaping to your feet. Dean almost jumped, but his facial expression was unwavering.You were practically livid.
“Dean in case you haven’t noticed, I worry about you all the time. I do my best to help but I know I can’t. I know it gets to a point where nothing I say or do will help. And I hate seeing you in this constant state of emotional hell.” He shook his head slightly. You noticed how nice the maroon flannel he had on fit around his broad shoulders; but you were too irritated to let it distract you.
“Yes, Y/N, I know you worry about me. But I’d prefer that you didn’t. I mean ninety percent of the time I’m going out of my mind trying to keep you safe.” You knew that he was telling the truth, but his words couldn’t help but remind you of the considerable age difference between the two of you.
“Believe it or not Dean, I’m a big girl, I can handle myself.” You shot back, crossing your arms over your chest once more in a subtle act of defiance. Dean rolled his eyes and pursed his lips- kind of like how he did when Cas misunderstood simple human interactions.
“That’s not the issue and you know it, Y/N. I know you’re more than capable of having me on my ass in a second. But I just can’t help it.” You were sort of pacing now, shooting a glance in his direction every few minutes or so.
“Well why don’t you just worry about yourself for once?” You sort of spat, sitting beside him. You could see out of the corner of your eye the way he looked at you. He almost looked determined.
“I- I’m sorry.” He finally said a slight shrug. “Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to just explode on you like that and I just want you to be happy-” Dean turned to you and pulled your lips against his abruptly. They felt like perfection, soft and firm flush against yours.You were in absolute awe, previously unaware of the feelings he had. You had never even noticed Dean so much as glance at you before. Nevertheless, you turned to get better access and thread your fingers through his hair. He ran his arm down your back and let is settle on your waist. He pulled you flush against him, obviously getting a bit more brazen, his grip tightened on you. You pulled away from him for only a moment, desperate for a gasp of air.
“Dean, I… What was that?” You questioned, your wide eyes staring wondrously into his golden green ones.
“Y/N, I’m in love with you, and I know that puts a target on your back, but I can’t keep pretending I don’t have these feelings for you.” At least he was finally saying something honest. You were taken aback and unsure of how to really phrase your feelings. You had loved Dean Winchester for five years, and now that it was finally time to confess your true feelings, you didn’t know quite how to.
“Y/N… This is normally when you reply.” You cleared your throat, and did your best to focus on his words and not his lips.
“Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m just a bit overwhelmed. But Dean, I love you too. I mean I always have. I just thought you saw me as a kid.” He shook his head.
“No, I didn’t- I don’t.” Dean replied. You smiled and pressed your nose against his, a gentle smile on your face. He carefully pressed his lips to yours again, his hands pulling you into his lap. Soon his lips began to wander, migrating to your cheek, then your jawline, then your neck. You let out a little gasp, where his name broke free from your lips. You blushed a little, embarrassed by your outburst. He chuckled against your skin and gripped your thighs firmly, pulling you tighter. You pulled his wandering kisses back to your lips, eager to taste him again. You slid your hand down his chest and held him closer, your hips pressing firmly to his.
“Woah, woah there kiddo. I uh… Don’t you want to take this slow?” Dean asked, his brow raised.
“I mean is that… necessary? It’ been five years.” You said, holding his shoulders and leaning back to meet his gaze.
“Don’t you want candles and… dinner? Something like that?” He asked again, doing his best to maintain his resolve.
“No, Dean, I don’t, I just want you.” You responded truthfully. With that, his eyes darkened significantly. He held you by your waist and thigh and moved you so you were on your back, looking up at him. He loved the innocence your eyes possessed even when you were doing your best to look sexy; your petite form beneath his masculine one.
You skimmed your fingers over his arms, and his hands traveled to the hem of your shirt. He tugged at it questioningly; as if he had to ask. You nodded somewhat frantically, lifting your arms over your head to assist. He tossed it somewhere behind you carelessly, his hands running down your exposed stomach and outlining the fabric of your bra. You pulled him closer to you, wrapping your arms around him a bit tighter. You kissed his tender lips and pulled his bottom lip between your teeth, a moan escaping his lips. You impatiently pulled at the corner of his shirt, hardly waiting for his consent. He let out a sort of grin and pulled it over his head, throwing it somewhere near your abandoned shirt. It was exhilarating; finally seeing him so exposed to you. You ran your hands over his toned skin loving the way it felt; warm and strong beneath your eager hands. You ran your hands up his chest, up his neck, over his stubble then through his hair. You tugged and he let out a groan, a groan that shot straight to your core.
You pulled his lips back to yours, holding him tightly against you, your nails scratching lightly over the taut muscles on his back. You took him by surprise and rolled him over and in a moment his green eyes were gleaming up at yours in excitement. Then you were between his legs, trying to remove his belt and pull down his pants. Before you could get them down his hands captured your wrists in a tight grasp. You looked up at him, your brow kinked in thought.
“Sweetheart, this is about you.” He told you, his voice deep and hoarse as he tried desperately to keep himself under control.
“And I want you to do whatever you want.” You told him, sincerity coming through your otherwise lust blown voice. Once you said that he was gone. He quickly leaned down and pressed harsh, open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin on your neck. He nipped at the skin and licked over his bite to sooth it, eliciting ragged gasps from you. He pushed your bra straps down your shoulders and kissed across your collar. Your hands snaked down and finished unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. He chuckled against your skin, his hands running over your stomach, down to your hips. He tossed your bra aside, and traveled down your body, more kisses, more inevitable bruises. And you loved every minute of it.
Once he reached your hips he leaned back and pushed his pants down and stepped out of them. He knelt down on his knees and grabbed your leg. He began his torture by kissing from your ankle to your knee, to your thigh, and finally, after what felt like ages he pressed sweet kisses to your clothed core.
“Dean,” You sighed, your fingers reaching down to tangle in his hair. He moved your panties and licked teasingly at your entrance. You gasped pulling him as close as you physically could.
“You taste so good.” Dean groaned, his hands skimming up your thighs and gripping your hips tightly. He continued his inistrations, his tongue and lips licking, sucking and kissing every inch of you. You were in awe, you couldn’t believe Dean was seeing you like this.
“Dean, I need you. I’ve been waiting too long.” You somehow found the words to tell him how you felt. He groaned and nodded and with one final kiss he decided he couldn’t restrain himself anymore either. He tugged your panties down your legs, tossing them behind himself carelessly.
He ran his fingers up your legs from your ankles to your thighs. He pulled them around his waist, and lined himself up with your entrance. He leant down to meet you, his lips grazing yours sweetly, tenderly. He reached for your hand and held it tightly as he pushed into you with one strong thrust. You gasped at the sensation, your hands skimming down his back, trying to pull him closer to you. He looked into your eyes, doing his best to gauge your reaction.
“Move,” You groaned, raising your hips a bit for effect. He obliged, pulling out, pushing in, your bodies so in sync it was like you’d been doing this for ages. He just felt so right; so good pressed against you. With every thrust his hips met yours, filling you up better than anyone ever had. He kissed your neck, your jaw, the valley between your breasts, all the while his hands never left you. You felt warm, safe, strong and loved- feelings you’d been searching for your whole life.
“Come on baby,” He murmured, his hand reaching between the two of you to rub your clit in small, powerful circles. After a particularly hard thrust and a few more words of encouragement, you were coming hard around him, your nails digging into his soft skin. Dean came a moment later, a hoarse growl ripping through him at the sensation. He stayed on top of you for a moment, savoring the feeling of your proximity.
“I uh… Wanted that for a while.” He chuckled, pulling out of you and rolling beside you. You turned on your side to keep his gaze.
“Me too. I’m sorry about earlier.” You muttered, remembering the argument that had taken place shortly before.
“No, I’m sorry. It was stupid and I should have just eaten.” You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. It felt right.
“Well now I’m glad that you didn’t.” You whispered. You tugged him closer to you, his head resting on your chest. Dean pulled the sheets on over the two of you, nuzzling closer. He held onto you like you were going to float away and you honestly wouldn’t trade the feeling for anything. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging the short strands a bit at the end. He sighed happily against your skin.
“I love you, Y/N.” He mumbled, his eyes falling closed. You grinned, stroking his hair. He threw an arm around you, holding you impossibly close. “I know. I love you too, Dean.”