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deanwinchesterswitch · 3 years

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Trust You With My Heart ~ Chapter Three

Pairing: Dean x Fem!Reader insert

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, language, fluff, a wee bit of angst, light smut-thigh riding, oral-male receiving. Cardiophilia.

Word Count: 7593 (Part 3)

Credits: Beta-the wonderful and super talented @muchamusedaboutnothing. Thank you for your kind support and inspiring feedback! I am always grateful for your helpful comments and suggestions. Title card by the amazing @talesmaniac89

Summary: Dean admits a secret he’s been keeping. When the emotions threaten to overwhelm him, Y/N is there to reassure him and show him how much fun they can have together; and Dean learns just how powerful the sound of a heartbeat can be.

Masterpost // Chapter One // Chapter Two

The second hand ticked, another minute gone. Thirty-six in total now. Thirty-six minutes she had been lying here staring at her ceiling—sleep even more elusive than before her talk with Dean.

What the hell was she thinking? Barely twenty-four hours ago, she’d been wondering if he felt the same as her, wondering if there was a way that they could make it work. Dean had all but said he loved her, that he wanted to try and make a life with her, and what does she do? Tells him they should sleep on it and then runs away like a coward. Y/N knew she’d hurt him; he had immediately withdrawn and stepped away at her words. She can only imagine what else he must be feeling—shock, anger, disappointment, guilt.

Son of a bitch! She’s a fucking idiot.

Kicking the covers off, Y/N races down the hall to Dean’s room, hoping he’s still awake. As she reaches for the handle, she laughs to herself; it’s probably the first time in a long time that someone has turned him down. Her amusement is immediately squelched as the door is roughly yanked open.

The lost, tormented stare that greets her breaks her heart and sends her pulse skittering all at the same time. That’s the thing about Dean; whenever she’s near him, the desire to pull him into an embrace and comfort him like a small child or to kiss him into mindless oblivion is a constant emotional battle.

Then a brilliant smile spreads across his face, and Y/N launches herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck. Dean stumbles back into the room with a grunt and swiftly plants his feet to keep the two of them from falling to the cold cement floor. She presses up on her toes, and he pulls her flush against him, holding tight as she peppers kisses along his jawline.

Y/N gives him a final kiss on the tip of his chin and cradles his face in her hands as she leans back. Any uncertainty about her decision to seek him out falls away at the look of hope in the virid depths of his eyes. There’s a pang in her heart when she realizes just how deeply she had hurt him.

“Dean.” Sliding her thumbs along his cheekbones, she hesitantly smiles. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Dean’s owlish blink makes her laugh. “I- Y/N?” Emotions roll across his face like the end credits of a movie; she barely has time to read one before the next appears.

“Just kiss me, you idiot.”

She lowers a hand to punch him in the chest, and he grabs her wrist, thwarting her assault; turning it, he leans down to kiss her palm, the softest brush of skin against skin. It tickles, and her fingers flutter. Dean laughs softly as his thumb ghosts over the barely visible line of puckered skin along her forearm. He peeks at her through thick lashes, eyes soft, expression wistful. “Do you remember what you told me?”

The way he’s looking at her, the huskiness of his voice short-circuits her synapses. “I- I told you-” A finger grazes her palm, and her fingers curl in reflex. Y/N clears her throat and swallows thickly, trying to ignore the heat spreading up her arm as his fingers continue to dance across her skin. “I said that I didn’t care if it ended up being the ugliest scar on the planet. That I would wear it proudly and tell anyone that asked that THE Dean Winchester had stitched me up.”

“You even told Dad that I stitched you up better than he ever did.” Dean laughs softly, head still bent over her hand. “I’ll never forget how offended he looked.”

Y/N smiles, unable to form words as the warmth radiates through her entire body. So mesmerized by the sensation of his fingers tracing the lines on her palm, she almost misses his whispered question.

“Why don’t you ever let Cas remove it when he has to heal you?”

He seems almost in awe that it still exists, and she takes her time responding, lost in her own memories. When he lightly squeezes her hand, Y/N locks eyes with him and licks her lips, her voice now a low rasp. “Because it reminds me of you and the first time you kissed me.” It had been a quick little peck. Dean had turned away blushing, busying himself with cleaning up the aftermath of his handiwork, but Y/N had never forgotten how her heart had hammered in her chest.

Dean straightens and brings her palm to rest against his cheek, drawing her closer as he pins it beneath his hand. The stubble on his cheek tickles her palm. “That was the day I knew I loved you.”

Y/N opens her mouth, trying to form words, but he answers the unasked question before it can pass her lips.

“I had every intention of telling you back then. Was even going to take you out on a date the next time we were hunting on our own. But then all hell broke loose, literally. Everything that went down with Dad and Sam... and it just kept getting worse. It never seemed like the right time.”

“When I got the Mark of Cain, well…” His voice fades, and the clench of his jaw as he tries to hold back tears makes her heart ache for him.

Dean had pushed her away after getting the Mark, slowly forced her out of his life so completely that she had been terrified that she’d never see him again. Sam had kept in contact, and she had done whatever she could to help from the sidelines, but that was the worst time of her life, not being there for Dean when he needed her the most.

“I never wanted to involve you in all of that, but I missed you.” her throat tightens as she holds back a sob. “I missed you so damn much, Y/N/N. I tried to hang on for you. You don’t know how many times the thought of you pulled me back, kept me sane—kept me in check. Then after the darkness was released… ”

Tears stream down her face, matching the ones now spilling over his lashes. “Dean. Hey, it’s okay.” Her thumbs skim across his cheeks, trying to ease some of the tension. “Listen, there’s nothing we can do to get that time back, but we’re here now, and that’s all that matters, right?”

Dean’s eyes dance around the room, and he nods, lips pressed together in a thin line.

Y/N grips his chin, forces him to look at her before continuing. “Listen, we both know that it won’t always be rainbows and unicorns. We’ll fight. One or both of us will eventually be injured on a hunt or face death. But, there is no one in this world that I feel safer with—no one that I trust more, no one that holds my heart the way you do.” Y/N slides her hands into his hair, holding him steady. “I want this. I want you.”

The last word has barely settled in the air between them before Dean’s lips meet hers. Holding her close, he walks them to the end of the bed. When her heel hits the frame, she abruptly stops, but Dean’s momentum pushes her back. Arms still wrapped around his neck, she pulls him down with her, falling onto the mattress with a bounce. Dean stops his descent with a hand pressed into the fabric on either side of her head, smiling down at her as she giggles.

Straddling a leg, he leans over her, shifting to brace his weight on his forearms, he presses a knee onto the edge of the mattress. The soft kisses he trails along her collarbone and neck make her head lull to the side.

“Mmmm… that feels so good.” He nips at the now taut muscle of her neck, the scruff on his jaw deliciously scrapping her skin. The heat of him seeps into her pores and deep into her bones, seducing her to the edge of oblivion.

Lost in the sensation of his plush lips caressing her skin, Y/N startles when his hand slips between her legs. Limbs flailing, a hand connects with the side of his head and a knee to his balls. Dean pulls away with a grunt, and she quickly tries to sit up, only to have her forehead collide with his nose.

“Son of a bitch,” they both yell in unison.

Dean stands and takes a couple of steps back, giving her space to finally sit upright. With the heel of her palm pressed between her brows, she squints at Dean. The fingers of one hand pinch the bridge of his nose while the others massage his groin.

“Shit. I’m so sorry,” she groans. “How bad does it hurt?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbles, running a hand over his crotch to adjust himself a final time. “You know, it’s been a long… ” Dean glances at his watch, “ ...twenty-six hours. Why don’t we get some sleep?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He laughs as she falls back onto the bed and dramatically throws an arm out to the side, draping the other over her eyes.

“Can I sleep here?”

“You gonna beat me up in my sleep?”

Y/N lifts the arm from her face and peels an eyelid open to see him glaring at her, arms crossed over his chest. “No,” she huffs, sitting back up.

The corner of his mouth curls up, and she can’t help but stick her bottom lip out, pouting, “I’m really sorry.”

Dean’s arms drop to his sides as a rumble of laughter echoes through the room. “Go on, get in.” He waves a hand toward the pillows as he walks over to close the door and shut off the light.

She rolls over and scrambles up the bed, snuggling into the pillow as she slides under the covers.

“I’m coming in,” Dean warns, lifting the bedding.

She laughs at his choice of words but curls in on herself. “I won’t move.” True to her word, Y/N remains still as Dean settles into bed, lying on his back. He carefully raises his arm, and she eagerly snuggles into his side, ear resting above his heart with an arm draped over his waist.

The weight of Dean’s arm across her shoulders pins her in place, and a muffled “I love you” follows her into the sweet, silent darkness as his lips press into her hair.

The cool cotton beneath her cheek lets her know that Dean is no longer in bed with her. Figuring he must have slipped out to use the bathroom, Y/N rolls onto her back, stretching languidly. It had been a long time since she had slept that well. Wrapped in Dean’s arms, ear pressed against his chest as she listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart…

Oh!

Slipping out of bed, Y/N rushes to her room. She takes advantage of the fact that she has one of the few rooms with an attached bathroom before grabbing what she came to get and hurries back to Dean’s room.

She had hoped to get back before he did, but as she steps through the doorway, she finds him standing next to the bed. The smell of bacon wafts past her, and she turns to see a tray ladened with food and the empty whiskey decanter filled with flowers sitting on top of his desk. It all looks so delicious, but Y/N is more concerned with Dean at the moment.

He’s staring at the bed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, shoulders slumped. She can just see his profile, he looks so dejected, and she wonders what could have happened. A low but gruff ‘son of a bitch’ fills the air, and it dawns on her that Dean thinks she ran out on him again.

Smiling, she takes a step into the room, hands held behind her back. “Hey, Handsome.”

Dean starts, shoulder muscles flexing in surprise. Y/N tries to keep from laughing as he shuffles his feet and turns to face her. “Hey, Beautiful.” The smile he offers her doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Y/N steps further into the room, keeping her back to Dean as she walks toward the desk. “I had to go to the bathroom.” She bites the inside of her cheek when Dean’s face goes from pensive to relieved, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “I hope you didn’t think I ran out on you,” she adds, flashing him a sweet smile.

“Oh, uh, no.” Dean nervously shifts as he keeps eye contact with her.

“Good.” She tilts her head toward the food. “The food smells wonderful, and the flowers are beautiful. Are they from my garden?”

“Oh, yeah.” Dean’s entire body visibly relaxes at her comment. Walking over to the desk, he pulls a ranunculus from the vase and twirls it between his fingers. “I wanted to surprise you. I made your favorite breakfast foods. It’s been a while since either of us ate. Thought you might be hungry. I’m starving.”

Y/N hums. “Thank you. Breakfast for dinner, my favorite. Everything looks delicious.” Bringing a hand from behind her back, she picks up a strip of bacon, offering him a bite before she finishes the slice. “Oh, that’s so good. You always make the best bacon.”

Dean grins and taps her nose with the flower making her giggle. “After we eat, I was thinking we could head back to bed, and I could give you the rest of your surprise.” The suggestive arch of his brow, coupled with the boyish grin, sends a wave of heat through her, lips parting on a soft exhale.

As he opens his arms, ready to pull her into a hug, she smiles coyly and moves away, staying just out of his reach.

“I have a surprise for you too.”

“You do?”

“Yep.” The ‘p’ pops off her lips, and she winks.

Dean’s hands fall to his sides, and his eyes roam her body, finally taking in her stance. “Whatcha got behind your back?”

“Don’t you wanna eat first?” Pursing her lips, she arches a brow. “I thought you were starving?”

“I think I’m hungry for something else now,” he quips, teeth dragging across his bottom lip.

A quiet ‘oh’ escapes her parted lips at the thought of those perfect teeth sinking into her flesh. Heart beating a little faster, she swallows thickly before asking, “but what about all this food?” Surprised at how steady her voice is, Y/N teases him some more. “It seems a shame to let it all go to waste. I can give you your surprise later.”

“I can make more food,” Dean growls, tossing the flower onto the desk.

Y/N steps back as he tries to reach for her again. “Stop.” Dean drops his hands at her command; his bottom lip pushes out in a pout, and she chokes back a laugh. “Oh my gods, you are such a big baby.”

Dean throws in his best puppy dog eyes and whines, “Pleeeease?”

Ugh, it’s really unfair how one man can be so fucking sexy and childishly adorable all at the same time.

She suppresses a snort and quickly bites the inside of her cheek to keep from full-on laughing. Clearing her throat, she takes a couple of deep breaths to expel some nervous energy. “Do you trust me?”

It takes him a moment, but once Dean realizes that she’s serious, he rolls his shoulders and lifts his chin. “With everything I am.” He places a hand over his heart, like a pledge. “With all of my heart.”

Y/N stares at him, entranced, willing herself not to cry at his words, and then nods.

Damn, he can be such a sap sometimes.

It always throws her for a loop because it usually comes out at the most unexpected times, like now. Another deep breath helps her focus.

“Hmm, since you said please, I suppose I could let you have your surprise first.” Wetting her lips, she slowly drags her gaze down his body, taking her time in bringing her eyes back to his face. The heat in his stare is like a jolt of lightning, prickling her skin, the rich baritone of his voice, the roll of thunder that settles deep in her bones.

“Dammit, woman, I want my surprise.”

This time she can’t contain her burst of laughter. “Fine.” Dean grins broadly at her response, pressing his tongue against the backs of his teeth. She shakes her head and composes herself. “Take your clothes off and get in bed.”

Clearly not expecting the command, Dean’s eyes widen; he bites his bottom lip and raises a brow. At the tilt of her head, he huffs out a breath. “Yes, ma’am.”

Not wasting any more time, he strips off his pajama bottoms and boxers. Scrambling up on the mattress, he gets tangled in the bedding and falls face-first into the pillows before quickly righting himself.

“Steady there, cowboy.” She laughs as Dean throws the blanket to the floor in a huff.

Awestruck, Y/N stares at him; how can she not? The man is sex on bowed legs—hard angles and soft curves of bone and muscle covered in creamy freckled skin. As he settles back against the headboard, she pulls her hands from behind her back to reveal what they’re holding.

Dean lets out a low whistle. “The steth.”

“Sure you want to give it a try?”

“Hell, yeah! But, what else you got there?” Dean smiles wide and bright.

“We’ll get to that.” Moving closer to the bed, she lays the items on the end of the mattress. Arms crossed in front of her, Y/N fidgets with the hem of her tank top. Dean’s eyes are focused on her, desire and something softer swirling in their depths. She takes her time pulling the material up her chest, stretching her arms above her head. It’s barely audible, but Dean inhales sharply when her breasts spring free of the fabric and cause her own breath to hitch. The top drifts to the floor as she leisurely lowers her arms.

His fingers curl into the sheets, and he whispers, “Tease.”

She winks and blows him a kiss just before hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her pajama bottoms. She slowly shimmies them down her legs, taking her underwear with, kicking the clothing to the side once the material reaches her ankles.

Kneeing up onto the mattress, Y/N crawls between his long, well-muscled legs until she can straddle his lap. She lays her palm on his chest, and the soft cotton sheets rustle as he fists the material tighter, his thigh muscles tensing beneath her bare ass.

Back arching as she reaches for the stethoscope, she squeals, nearly sliding off his legs as his mouth latches onto a breast. A warm, calloused hand grips her hip; the other spans her back to hold her in place as he adjusts beneath her. He moans against her skin, and she struggles to fully grasp the steth, her fingers trembling as her body shudders in response. Dean continues to suckle; his rough tongue circles her areola, and sharp teeth gently tug at her nipple.

It takes a couple of attempts before she gets a firm hold on the instrument as he releases her breast, only to turn his attention to the other one. Y/N pushes against his chest, and he lifts his head, tongue peeking out from between his teeth. His heart is thudding rapidly against her hand and kicks up a notch when she ducks in for a kiss, grinding against his growing erection.

Thick fingers dig into the flesh at her hip as his hand glides up her back to rest at the nape of her neck, cupping the back of her head. The kiss is passionate, needy. He sits up, arm slipping around her back to pull her close; the fingers at her nape slip into her hair, and the hard line of his erection presses against her stomach.

She drops the steth on the bed, skimming her hand up his arm. Dean moans against her lips when her fingers gently scrape his scalp; they continue to slide through his hair until she can grip a handful, and then she tugs, hard.

Dean gasps, and Y/N captures his bottom lip, dragging it between her teeth as she pulls away, the hand on his chest pushing him back against the headboard. She releases the plump, tender skin with a quick nip and whispers, "Wow, your heart is already beating so fast."

“I have a gorgeous, naked woman sitting in my lap, teasing the hell out of me."

"It's going to be nearly impossible to distinguish any of the beautiful sounds it makes-"

"You're naked ..." he interrupts, "... in my lap."

"-while it's pounding away like this," she finishes. “You think you can try and calm down a bit?” Sliding back on his thighs, she leaves her hand over his heart. “I want to hear your resting heartbeat.”

Dean stares at her, dumbfounded. “W- what?”

“I know,” she hums, smiling. “Let’s try, though.” Y/N knows she might be asking the impossible of him. It’s taking every bit of restraint she has not to say fuck the stethoscope and impale herself on the thick, stiff shaft that’s resting heavily on his stomach.

She wraps her fingers around his hand at her hip and tugs it upward, laying it over her heart. The heat of his touch spreads through her veins like liquid fire, and she makes a conscious effort to keep her pulse from jackrabbiting.

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” She looks up to find him staring at her, enthralled.

“I love you so much.” His voice is deeper than usual, filled with emotion, and this time she can’t stop the uptick in her pulse. Dean’s eyes widen, apparently feeling the increase in her heart rate, and she grins.

“You want to hear it?”

“Please?” he begs, nodding eagerly.

Dismissing any more thoughts of calming his racing pulse, Y/N picks up the stethoscope and explains what each part is and the proper way to use it. It takes her all of three minutes, but Dean squirms beneath her the entire time.

“Okay, you ready?”

Dean looks down at his lap and then back up to her and arches a brow. “Really?”

“Sorry,” she laughs.

“No, you’re not.”

“No. I’m really not.”

He grunts in annoyance as she laughs and gives him a quick peck on the cheek.

Just as she’s about to put the earpieces in for him, he blurts, “I’m dying here, Doc. Can we move this along?”

“Doc, huh?”

“Well, you got the equipment.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and his tongue slips out from his toothy grin to wet his lips.

She lifts her eyes to the ceiling, trying not to laugh at the situation, and fails miserably. “I’m trying,” she huffs, “but you won’t sit still. You’re going to make me come all over your beefy fucking thighs if you don’t settle down.”

Shit! Did she really say that out loud?

The glint in Dean’s eye confirms it. He doesn’t give her even a second to prepare; large hands quickly manhandle her until she’s straddling a single leg. Y/N moans as her soft folds drag across taut, solid muscle until he’s satisfied with her placement.

“So you like my thighs?” Eyes dark, the corner of his mouth curls up, he looks dangerous… sinful. “Bet you’ve dreamt about riding these thighs, haven’t you.” Dean’s hands drop to her hips, rough-skinned fingers press into the globes of her ass as he guides her wet heat along the hard quadriceps of his leg.

She moves to lay the stethoscope on the bed, but he stops her. “No, I still want to listen.”

“O- okay. Sure.” The words come out low and breathy; the friction as he sets a slow, steady pace makes her clit swell and skin flush with heat.

Y/N fumbles with the instrument, the headset nearly snapping around his nose when he jerks his leg, sending a ripple of pleasure through her. “Fuck, Dean. Give me a minute.”

Dean relaxes his leg and smiles mischievously. “Do we need to try and slow your heart rate?”

“You’re an ass,” she huffs, shaking her head in annoyance. Taking a couple of deep breaths, she finally sets the ear tips in place. “Comfortable?”

Dean nods, fingers flexing against her flesh in response and anticipation, his grin wide and brilliant.

Resting a palm on his shoulder for balance, she flashes him a joyful smile in return. “Alright, here we go. You remember where to place it?”

“Yeah.” Releasing one of her hips, he places two fingers around the chestpiece like she showed him. Dean bites his lip, his brow adorably furrowing as he concentrates on the task.

Y/N presses her lips together, trying to quiet her breaths, and slightly adjusts the placement of the diaphragm for him. As soon as he can clearly hear her heart, his eyes widen in surprise. “Damn, babe. You okay?”

Dean’s POV

Smiling, she leans in and pulls out an earpiece, whispering against the shell of his ear, “Just listen.”

A low whine escapes him when the warmth of her breath tickles his skin, but he nods without another sound. Y/N kisses along his jawline, her fingers ghosting along his collarbones and down his biceps. When her lips meet his, the change in her heart rhythm catches him off guard, his lips parting in awe.

Taking advantage of the gesture, her tongue sweeps into his mouth and over his, her pulse quickening. With each passing second, the kiss becomes more passionate. He strokes his fingers along her spine, mesmerized by the fluctuations of sound he hears with each touch. It becomes harder for him to focus, torn between wanting to touch every part of her or continue to listen to the soft melody thrumming in her chest—a song that has quickly become his favorite tune of all time.

Y/N breaks the kiss when his hand slips, dislodging the steth. Dean’s chest tightens at the look of adoration in her eyes laced with understanding, and he closes his, briefly overwhelmed by it all. Her feather-light touch traces the hairline at his temple, fingers running through his hair and curling around the back of his ear before cupping his face.

“It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?”

Dean opens his eyes to see a soft smile gracing her kiss swollen lips. Brain still on overload, he blinks and then clears his throat. “I want to hear more, but I want to touch you.” Regaining some composure, he arches a brow and smirks, “I want to explore every inch of your body just to hear what I can do to your heart.”

The coy smile she gives him in return should have been his warning that he is out of his league at the moment, but all he can think about is the whispered tempo that conspires to keep pace with his own heart.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she offers, making Dean suck in a sharp breath as she continues to slide her slick folds along his heated skin. “I’ll hold it in place, and you make me come on your thigh.”

“Now that’s a deal I can live with!” He gently places the bell in her outstretched hand. “I’m going to make you come so hard that it’s going to feel like your heart will explode.” Brow furrowing, he pauses as he reaches for her hips. “Not that I want your heart to explode. I don’t want to hurt you. I just meant that I want to make you feel so good that you want to die.” He scrubs a hand down his face in exasperation. “You know I don’t want you to really die, though, right? I would never do anything to intentionally hurt-”

Her laughter echoes through the metal tubes and into his ears. Cheeks tinted pink with embarrassment, he glances up to see her shaking her head, the corners of her eyes crinkled with glee.

“You’re such a dork,” she giggles.

“Whatever,” he grumbles as she ruffles his hair. Grasping her waist, he quickly flips them over, and she lands on her back with a yelp. “We’ll see how much of a dork you think I am when I’m done with you.”

“Well then, Winchester, show me what you got.”

Accepting the challenge, Dean slots a leg between hers, pressing his thigh against her mound, as he pulls her toward him, growling, “I’m gonna make you feel so good.” When she gasps, he dips his head and catches her lower lip between his teeth, gently tugging as he pulls away. He doesn’t get far. Y/N’s warm fingers wrap around the back of his neck and pull him in for a heated kiss, not letting him go until they’re both gasping for air.

Feeling a little more in control of the situation again, Dean places a trail of wet kisses down her chest, grazing a taut nipple with his teeth before sucking it into his mouth to swirl his tongue around it. He continues to suckle until a moan escapes her lips, and he lets it go with a lewd pop. “Come on, baby, let me hear that beautiful heart.”

Y/N whimpers, fumbling with the stethoscope. As she places the chestpiece back over her heart, Dean latches onto her other breast, listening carefully to the changes in rhythm as he tongues the hardened nub and pebbled skin around it. He cups the other, fingers pinching and teasing until her breathing is as erratic as her heartbeat.

She’s grinding against his thigh now, writhing beneath him as he keeps his leg firmly pressed against her core. He lifts his gaze to see her swallowing hard around a moan, teeth buried in the tender flesh of her lower lip, holding back her cries. He nips at her tight bud one last time before pulling away just enough to see her better.

“Let me hear you, Y/N/N.” She shakes her head, teeth denting deeper into her skin, and it hits him that she’s trying to remain quiet so that he can hear her heart better. He ghosts his fingers down her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Dean smiles when he hears the low mewl that she can’t hold back. “Your heart is beating so hard and fast. It sounds so-” His fingers lightly brush over her stomach, the muscles tense beneath his touch, and her heart skips. “Oh, that’s… “ He places a lingering kiss on her shoulder, and his own heart flutters when he hears the little skitter of the beat again. “That’s awesome,” he breathes out, finally beginning to understand what she meant about the intimacy of it all and not being able to hide anything.

She grabs his forearm, nails digging into his skin, and presses her heels into the mattress, giving herself more leverage to grind against his tensed muscles. When her leg brushes against his stiff cock, he can’t help but groan. He’s so fucking hard it’s almost painful; he can’t wait to pound into her, feel her clench around him. He’s waited so long for her that if not for the throbbing beat vibrating in his ears, he might believe it was a dream. Another low groan involuntarily pushes past his lips. This time her leg slides against his sac as well as his dick, and it’s all he can do to not blow like a fucking teenager right then. The fingers around his arm tighten, and his attention is drawn back to her.

Damn, she looks so fucking gorgeous falling apart for him.

“That’s it, baby girl, take what you need.” He listens intently to the hammering of her heart, her pulse is racing now, and Dean becomes afraid that she might actually have a heart attack or something. He eases his leg back, and she whines. “Hey, you okay? Your heart is going crazy.”

Hand sliding along the damp skin of her arm, Dean searches her face for any signs of distress. She huffs out the word ‘more’ around a sharp breath.

“You’re sure?”

She nods, squeezing his arm again, and the fingers of her other hand tremble as she works to keep the diaphragm in place.

Dean kisses the tip of her nose. “Do you know how sexy you are? You’re so gorgeous coming undone for me.” He kisses her forehead, then her temple, and her hips buck up to meet the sticky skin of his thigh.

This time the friction of her soft skin against his shaft makes him growl, “Shit.” He grabs her thigh, stilling her movements and easing her lower body back down onto the bed. “Give me a sec, or this is going to end before we even get started.”

Chin tucked, he takes a few deep breaths, running his hand along her leg as he tries to slow the rush of blood through his veins. Y/N releases his arm and squirms beneath him. “I know, baby, just a couple more seconds, please.”

“Dean.”

Looking up through his lashes, he’s met with sparkling eyes and a sinful smile. She’s clawing at the bedding, trying to reach something behind him. He glances over his shoulder to see the other item she had brought in earlier. He reaches back to bring it closer, toying with the clasp as he stares at the rolled strip of soft webbing in his hands. Recognition dawns slowly as the memory of seeing something similar in a hospital during a case creeps into his brain. It looks like a strap used for an electronic heart monitor.

The fabric uncoils as he lets it dangle from his fingers. “What do we have here?”

“I want to touch, too.”

Dean lifts the strap out of her reach as she grabs for it. “Oh, no. Right now, it’s all about you. We have plenty of time for everything else, later.”

The pout and sad doe-eyed look she throws at him almost makes him crack, but he spies the slight curl of her lips. “Aww, so adorable, but maybe you should take some lessons from Sammy.”

She swats his chest and grabs for the strap again, and he lifts it higher. “Jerk!”

“Bitch!”

Oh, fuck!

“I-”

“Did you just call me a bitch?”

“Nooooo!” The arch of her brow sends a shot of fear through him so great that he thinks he’d rather be facing Lucifer at the moment than her glare. “Y- yeah.”

Wary eyes roam her face as he tries to assess the damage. “I- I didn’t mean it, though. It was just- just reflex.” Words tumble fast and furious from his lips as her face remains blank. “You know, all these years-, Sammy, and I-. Honestly, I would never-, I don’t think that-.” He can’t complete a sentence to save his soul and almost wishes that Hell would open up and swallow him whole right now.

When she remains silent, he tries his own set of puppy eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I think you need to take some lessons from Sam.” Her voice is stern, but he catches the devilish gleam in her eye. “Maybe learn some manners and how to treat a woman properly.”

“Oh, honey. I don’t need any lessons from Sam on how to treat a woman.” He drops the strap, fingers tracing over her body until he reaches her most ticklish spot.

Y/N squirms beneath him, eyes bugging out as she realizes what he’s about to do. “Dean, no.”

“Dean, yes.” The burst of giggles that escapes her when his fingers dent into her flesh makes his heart soar. He doesn’t think he’s felt this happy since she first kissed him on the playground all those years ago. Her fists pound against his shoulders as she squeals, and he can’t stop the grin that broadens until his cheeks hurt. He doesn’t end his assault until she shoves at his biceps, pleading for him to have mercy.

“Dean, stop! I give, okay?”

“What was that?” he laughs. “I didn’t quite hear it.”

She shouts her response in between a giggle and a snort. “I give, you jackass. Please stop!”

Dean sits back on his legs, a self-satisfied grin on his face. Y/N huffs, throwing her head back on the pillow with eyes closed. Her chest heaves from the exertion, and he can’t help but stare in awe—the pink tinge and sheen of sweat that covers her skin, the perfect swell of her breasts and curve of her hips. The blood rushes straight to his dick at the sight of how wet she still is, knowing that it’s all for him. He becomes a little overwhelmed with it all again.

How does she do that? How does she bring every emotion he’s buried deep in his soul, crashing to the surface like a damn tidal wave? He dives forward, burying his face in her neck, sliding his arms beneath her to pull her close as he rolls to his side. She squeaks at the sudden connection but immediately wraps her arms around him, squeezing him back.

“I love you so much, Y/N/N.” His body shakes, heart thudding against his ribcage as he breathes the words into her skin—needing her to feel all the things he can’t find words to say.

“I love you too.”

The soft scratch of her nails carding through his hair helps him relax, and soon he’s nibbling at her ear and kissing the tender skin along the column of her neck. The gentle bite at the juncture of her neck and collarbone makes her hips buck, and he grunts at the pressure against his cock. She grips a handful of his ass and holds him in place while she slowly rocks against him.

“So, Winchester, are we going to see our deal through to completion?” Her hand slides between them, fingers wrapping around his girth, lazily stroking him. “Or are we moving onto bigger things?”

The warmth of her skin and the firm, steady glide of her fingers almost sends him over the edge. He quickly grips her wrist, halting any more movement. With a tap of his finger against the vein in her wrist, she loosens her grip, and he pulls her hand away, bringing it to his lips to kiss each knuckle.

Y/N hums when he nudges a leg between hers and rolls to his back with her on top of him. He scoots up the bed into a semi-sitting position amongst the pillows, bringing her with.

She bows her back, grinding hard against him. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Dean grasps her arms and pulls her forward. “Hold on. We had a deal.” He picks up the stethoscope from where it had become dislodged and fallen on the bed during their playful struggle.

Y/N smiles, reaching for the strap and securing it around her chest while he puts the stethoscope back on. Picking up the chestpiece, she slides it underneath the band, and he nods as the enchanting thrum resonates in his ears.

Her heart rate had slowed considerably, but when he wraps his fingers around her hips once again, it kicks and continues to climb as he slowly guides her along the length of his thigh.

“Damn, you’re still so wet for me.” Wanting to test a theory, he adds. “Did you dream about sitting in my lap, riding my leg?” Her heart skips and flutters, and he grins. “Did you hump your pillow, wishing it was me? Wishing it was as hard as my thick, muscled thigh? Did you scream my name into the darkness of your room?” He gently bounces his leg and chuckles when she gasps.

She presses a hand over his heart, fingers tapping his skin in time with his pulse. Her heartbeat is racing again, but this time he knows she needs more. He flattens a hand on her stomach with his thumb lightly circling her clit; the other continues to help guide her movement.

His whole body jerks when her fingers encircle his dick, and she cries out when the hard muscle of his leg meets her sensitive bundle of nerves. Her thumb brushes over his tip, picking up the moisture leaking from the slit, and spreads it over his length. “Fu- fuck.”

He should stop her, wants to stop her, doesn’t want it to end so soon. He’s definitely not going to last much longer at this rate, and neither is she from the sounds of her thudding heart, but he’s on sensory overload, unable to think clearly. Fingers curl into the skin of his chest; her grip tightens around his shaft, quickening the pace, his dick throbs under her touch. Her legs begin to tremble, making his fingers dent deeper into her flesh. He cries out when she brushes her thumb over the small v of his frenulum.

Shit, he couldn’t stop now if he wanted to.

“Wanna hear you scream my name.” His thumb brushes roughly against her clit, while simultaneously pressing her into the thick meat of his thigh. Her entire body tenses, back arching as she finally lets go, shouting his name. Nails dig into his chest, fingers tremble around his shaft but still their upward movement; he can feel her throb against him, her thighs clenching around his as warm slick drips over his skin into the sheets below. Heart still thudding hard and fast in his ears, she slumps forward as she comes down. He slips an arm around her to pull her closer, but her hand pushes against his chest.

Wiggling her eyebrows at him, he watches as she readjusts the diaphragm’s position under the strap and leans forward, the tubing now out of the way. “Now I wanna hear you scream my name.”

Dean moves to stop her but then hears the distinct thud when her lips seal around the head of his cock and the steady uptick of her pulse when she runs her tongue along his length. “Damn, that feels good.”

He leans back against the pillows, allowing himself to momentarily relax into the sensations, the sweet smell of her hair, the strong, fast-paced staccato of her heart, the warm, wet heat of her mouth.

The feel of her fingers massaging his balls and the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat startles him from his blissful reverie. “Babe, stop.” Dean gently pushes at her shoulder, trying to ease her off him, which only seems to spur her on. “I’m gonna come if you do-”

Y/N buries her nose in the coarse hairs at the base of his dick, relaxing the muscles in her throat. He hears her soft gag as she gently tugs at his sac, and Dean comes roaring her name, just like she wanted, a hand gripping her shoulder, the other fisted in the sheets. He comes hard and long, cock pulsing in her mouth, and she greedily drinks everything down.

It feels like his high is never going to end, the intensity of it a little frightening. When he finally begins to soften in her mouth, she swipes her tongue around him and then releases him with a quick peck to his tip. Sitting back on her heels, his leg still between hers, she smiles like the cat that ate the canary. Holding the diaphragm, she releases the clasp on the strap and tosses the material onto the bed, then removes the stethoscope from his ears, placing it next to the strap. Dean instantly misses the melody of her heart and pouts.

“What’s the matter, babe?” She cups his face and strokes her thumb along his cheek. “You upset because I made you come?”

“I asked you to stop,” he whines.

“So… let me get this straight.” Lips pursed, she crosses her arms in front of her. “You can tempt and tease me and make me come however you want, but I can’t do the same to you?”

Dean sputters, not quite sure how to respond. “W- well, my doctor seemed a little tense; I just wanted to help take the edge off.”

“Hmm… Well, I thought my patient needed to relax a bit too.”

Dean laughs and rubs the back of his neck. “Yeah, I guess I did. I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard in my life.”

Y/N laughs as she scoots forward and leans into him. “I told you it could get pretty intense.”

“Yeah, well, you know, my recovery time ain’t what it used to be, though.” She nuzzles into his neck, straddling his lap, and he wraps his arms around her.

Her fingers trace random patterns along his collarbone and down his chest. “Well, as your physician, trust me when I tell you that I don’t think it will be an issue.”

“Hmm, we’ll see.”

But as she sucks at the pulse in his neck, her fingers tug at his nipple, and Dean’s surprised to feel a slight twinge of movement between his legs.

Y/N smiles against his throat.

TYWMH Tags: @screechingartisancashbailiff @compresshischest09 @blushreads @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @deans-baby-momma @debs95love @siospins @toscahammerheart @magssteenkamp @ariesbabe1993 @supernatural-love14

Dean Tags: @crashdevlin @wayward-and-worn @weepingwillowphoenix @akshi8278 @michellethetvaddict

#tywmh #chapter 3 #cardiophilia #light smut #fluff #cardiophile #dean x fem!reader #051021 #my writing

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