hunter's curse || supernatural

one

dean winchester the biggest cockblock in the history of cockblocks

Yeah. We're coming in hot. Don't say I didn't warn ya.

Natalia Kimber lets out a soft whimper as calloused fingers ghost on the waistband on her panties, the material is already soaking wet when he pinches her lace covered clit. "Fuck." She moans loudly this time, grabbing his face and pulling him down for a rough kiss.

All tongue and teeth, her kind of rough.

He's down to one layer, a sight she never gets to see often. The lumberjack look is trending amongst hunters. Layer after layer, kind of sucks. She lifts up his shirt and lets her cool palm rest on his heated skin.

His name leaves her lips in a cry when he slips two fingers into her heat unannounced. "Fuck." Bradley Bernard grunts nosing her throat. "Nat you're soaking."

Natalia nods, grinding herself down on his fingers desperate for any kind of friction. Her hair is falling out of her French braid and sticking to her face glistened with sweat. "Just shut up and fuck me already Brad we—" she freezes with the thud coming downstairs. The blond hunter doesn't seem to hear it as he sloppily kisses her neck and moves his fingers out of her to unbuckle his belt. "Stop." Natalia hisses, pushing him away firmly. Brad furrows his brows and gives her a look. The huntress presses a finger to her lips and gestures downstairs with her head.

It sounds like footsteps coming from downstairs. Brad keeps staring at her with this dumb look on his face. And Natalia's patience is wearing thinner."It's probably the dog." He mutters and rests his head on her shoulder. Natalia pushes him away.

"Juniper is two weeks old she can barely walk." She gets up from the bed and throws on her lavender robe. "Someone's here."

"Fuck." Natalia Kimber hasn't him this freaked out in a while—maybe not ever since that witch hunt in Baltimore. Brad stumbles out of the bed in panic, making way to fucking much noise. "Is it your dad?"

That's what it's all about, huh?

Natalia clenches her jaw, still a sore topic apparently. She wonders if it will ever get better. There isn't exactly a manual for girls with daddy issues.

"Bobby isn't my dad." Natalia grabs her Beretta taped under her bed and makes sure her robe is secure around her waist. "And he's on a hunt, he's not gonna be back for a few days. Now shut up and stay put."

The Kimber leaves Brad in her room and heads for the stairs with tentative steps.

The next sequence of events happen in blur—so so fast. She notices the shadow of a man in the kitchen and switches off the safety. The click of her beretta seems to warn the man, the next thing Natalia knows, he's on her. He grabs her wrist and redirects her gun, he pulls her flush against his chest a hand on her throat—not squeezing it just holding—resting it there. Nothing violent.

"It's me—it's me."

Natalia tilts her head to the left and sees him. "Dean?"

Dean Winchester chuckles, his breath hot on her face. The hand holding her arm drops to her waist. Natalia wouldn't have mind the close proximity, because it's Dean. But her body betrayed her and her cheeks are already flushed. With a groan Natalia slaps his hand on her throat. "What the fuck is wrong with you Dean?! I could've shot your dumb ass."