I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader] Book 2

Love

Babe wake up, new chapter just dropped.

I woke the next morning to the sky lightening to a dull gray outside the dirty windows of my new home, and soft, warm breaths fanning the expanse of my neck. Despite the chill of the early morning, I was warm, comfortable even, on the floor of my empty bedroom, blankets strewn about in a makeshift bed rather than on the cot.

My lips quirked into a smile as I ran my nails through Dean's hair. His breathing was uneven, his lips just brushing my flesh with an arm slung around my waist, pulling me closer until our hips were flush. I didn't complain. His brows twitched as I scraped my nails just above his ear. With a soft exhale, I shimmied down until I was even with him and placed a hand on his cheek.

"Aren't you usually gone by morning?" I asked quietly, barely breaking the morning silence. My lips brushed over his as he opened his eyes and blinked away sleep.

"Normally, yeah," he replied just as softly, his voice gravelly and rough with sleep. "Unless I think I'm gonna get lucky again."

"Yeah? You think you're going to get lucky again?"

Dean's grip on my waist tightened as he leaned forward to ghost a kiss over my lips. I hummed faintly and returned the gesture, dropping my hand from his cheek to his bare shoulder. "I'm hoping I'll keep getting lucky for as long as you're willing to keep my sorry ass around."

I lifted my head and allowed him to bury his face in the crook of my neck, warm breaths fanning my collarbone. "You know I'm still mad at you, right?"

He hummed, pressing a lingering kiss to my throat. "I bet I could make you forget about it for a while."

"I think I'd like that," I answered quietly, feeling him smile against my skin. He rolled the both of us together, hovering above me as the blankets sagged from his shoulders to his waist. I brought one hand down to tug them back up to protect us against the chilly morning, while the other pinched his necklace between my fingers.

"How long have you had this?" I asked and looped my arm around his shoulders, gently pushing him down until he dropped onto my torso. His hands found my waist as he made himself comfortable.

"Long time, probably around a decade and a half." He lifted his head to meet my curious gaze. "Christmas gift from Sam." I grinned at that and tightened my grip on him ever-so-slightly, earning a grumble from him. Dean's hands ran along my sides, skipping over bandages and sore skin. His fingertips traced scars that his lips had found the night before.

I placed my palm on his cheek and leaned up to meet his lips. He sighed softly and returned the affection, one hand looping into my hair while the other remained planted on the floor beside my head. It was slow and exploratory, unlike the feverish nature of the night before.

I exhaled quietly and tilted my head back, allowing him access to my neck once more. My nails raked across his scalp, other hand brushing along his bare skin in soft, sleepy movements. "What time is it?" I croaked out, throat still raspy. Dean grunted and pushed his hips down on mine in a silencing gesture.

I huffed and reached one hand out, fumbling in the blankets in search of my phone. Another, freckled hand darted out from beneath the covers; Dean slipped his fingers between my own and pinned my hand to the floor beside my head.

"It's just after five in the morning - sun's not even up," he murmured into the crook of my neck. "Still got an hour before anyone even thinks to come looking for you - probably more."

"What about Sam?" I pressed and squeaked when he rolled his hips.

"What about him?"

"He's gonna come looking for you soon."