The warm golden hue of the bunker lights shone over the vast War Room, illuminating the old wooden table and the many maps and symbols it carried. The room echoed the silence of an uneventful day, something rare for the team.
Castiel, the stoic angel in a trench coat, reclined in a chair, fingers interlaced and placed on his stomach. He observed the room, his piercing blue eyes taking in the stillness. For once, there were no monsters to chase, no demons to fend off. It was eerily peaceful.
The room's serenity was soon interrupted by the scuffling sound of shoes. Dean entered, a towel carelessly draped around his neck and his hair glistening with dampness. His eyes, always alert, carried a hint of relief. He moved to sit next to Castiel, holding a steaming mug of coffee.
"Morning, Cas," he muttered, taking in his first sip.
"Dean," Castiel began, his gravelly voice soft yet filled with underlying worry. "You're speaking to me before your coffee. Is everything alright?" The angel, having spent enough time with the Winchesters, had learned many things about the brothers. One of the most crucial lessons: do not engage Dean before his first cup of coffee. It was a rule he respected, not out of fear, but out of an understanding of the simple human need for rituals and comfort.
Before either could delve into a conversation, in came another person, Rae. She sauntered in, her hair slightly more composed than Dean's but still damp. "Morning, Cas," she sang, her voice teasingly light.
Castiel, with his heightened senses, tilted his head, his nose flaring slightly. He looked between Dean and Rae, a question forming. "Why does she smell like you? Have you two recently fornicated?" he asked, his tone curious and nonchalant.
Right at that moment, Sam walked in, already in mid-conversation. The younger Winchester had his vegan bowl in hand, digging in. Hearing Castiel's question, he choked, spitting out his first bite.
Dean was not spared either as he nearly spit his coffee, the unexpected bluntness of Castiel's question catching him off guard. He set his mug down, wiping any drops from his chin. The room was filled with stunned silence but only briefly.
Sam's eyes widened, looking between the trio, his bowl momentarily forgotten. "I… what?"
Rae's face turned a shade redder, "Castiel!"
"Cas," Dean started, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. While the angel wasn't wrong, it was unsettling how he could detect intimate activities, especially those involving him and Rae. "You can't just roll up and ask folks if they've been 'getting busy.' It ain't exactly dinner table talk."
Castiel tilted his head, genuinely confused. "I was merely making an observation. It seemed like a logical question."
Sam sighed, shaking his head in amusement. "It's not about logic, buddy. It's about tact. Humans… we have boundaries, especially when it comes to personal matters."
With his classic Dean charm, he quipped, "You know, like the stuff that happens behind locked bedroom doors," throwing a pointed wink Rae's way.
Rae, sitting across Dean, gave him a swift kick under the table, connecting solidly with his shin. He grimaced in response. "Ow!" he hissed, shooting her a mock-glare. "Easy with the kicks, will ya?"
Instead, she laughed shaking her head. "Well, maybe next time you'll think twice before making bedroom jokes!"
Castiel, after observing the playful interaction between Dean and Rae, decided to weigh in, his voice calm and analytical. "I've noticed that whenever you two are together, there's a distinct shift in the atmosphere. The pheromones both of you exude are… noticeably different."
Dean, still rubbing his shin and recovering from Rae's surprise kick, looked at Castiel with curiosity. "Pheromones? Seriously, Cas?"
The angel was about to get into details about pheromones, when Dean interrupted him with a curt raised hand. "We know what pheromones are, Cas. And back up a sec. What's this about the pheromones Rae and I supposedly give off?"
Castiel leaned forward slightly, his brows furrowed in concentration. "Every time the two of you are close, I detect a distinct scent. It's a combination of something spicy and sweet."
Dean and Rae shared a surprised look, both subtly checking their own scents with a sniff. "Spicy and sweet?" Dean echoed,
his voice puzzled.
Rae wrinkled her nose playfully. "Are you saying we smell like a dessert, Cas?"
Sam finally chimed in. "Sounds like you two are the cinnamon roll of relationships. Fiery on the outside, soft and sweet on the inside. Good thing you weren't with us a month ago, Cas, or you would have drowned in it." The younger Winchester shot them a knowing look. Rae chose to overlook his comment but not his big brother.
Dean was initially shocked but quickly shot his brother a mock glare. "Really, Sammy? And cinnamon roll?"
Rae laughed, her eyes twinkling, at the same time, her stomach let out a loud, audible growl. The room went silent for a beat before erupting into laughter.
Rae's slightly embarrassed, threw her hands up playfully and in mock frustration. "Screw you!" she shouted, her voice dripping with feigned annoyance. Without another word, she turned around and headed out of the room, her dramatic exit punctuated by the Winchesters' and the angel's light-hearted laughter echoing down the hallway.
-In the dimly lit garage, Dean was engrossed in his work, the ratchet in his hand moving rhythmically as he tuned up the Impala. The scent of engine oil filled the air, a smell that Dean found oddly comforting. He always said that Baby was more than just a car, and on days like this, it was evident in the meticulous care he gave her.
A floor above, Rae flipped the last page of her book, releasing a sigh of contentment mixed with frustration. The story had been exhilarating, but now that it was over, she felt the weight of the bunker's silence pressing down on her. Looking for a change of scenery and maybe a bit of distraction, she decided to head to the kitchen for a snack.
As she descended the staircase, the sound of faint rock music led her towards the garage. Peeking in, she saw Dean's legs sticking out from under the car. A wicked idea began to form in her mind. Slowly, she removed her heavy boots before sauntering in.
With ninja-like precision, Rae approached the unsuspecting hunter and gracefully placed herself between his outstretched, denim-clad legs.
Dean, still half under the car, felt the unexpected warmth of hands sliding over his thighs. Instinctively, his muscles tensed, and he froze, tools in hand. He jolted, accidentally knocking his head against a metal part of the car. "Son of a—" he began, trying to pull himself out from under the car, but somehow the creeper was jammed against something.
Dean about to yell for help stopped when he felt fingertips tracing his waistband before slowly undoing the button and zipper of his jeans. The intimacy of the moment mixed with the setting of the garage made the situation even more charged and unexpected. His heart was racing, in alert mode, but he caught a whiff of a familiar scent. It was Rae.
Caught off guard and pinned under the car, Dean was at her mercy. His emotions wavered between mild annoyance and reluctant pleasure. The rush of blood in his ears became deafening as she pulled down his jeans, her fingers grazing his thighs. He took a sharp breath, trying to keep his composure.
She was completely entranced by the sight in front of her, her tongue and lips meeting, a soft moan slipping past her lips. "Relax, Winchester," Rae whispered teasingly, sensing Dean's tension. Her fingertips danced lightly along his inner thigh, making his muscles twitch involuntarily.
"Rae, what the hell are you…?" Dean began, but his voice trailed off as her touch became more intimate.
"Shh," she murmured, her warm breath tickling his exposed skin. "You're always in control. Let someone else take the wheel for once."
He groaned, torn between wanting to regain control and giving in to the intense pleasure Rae was offering. The confinement of the car above and the unexpected nature of the situation heightened every sensation, leaving Dean Winchester, for once, without a snarky retort.
As she moved closer, the heat of her breath and her soft, moist tongue brushed against him, his length springing to life instantly, causing Dean to gasp slightly.
Taking her time, Rae delicately wrapped her lips around his tip. Every tongue lashing and licking drove him wild all the way down his curled toes, attempting to use all his willpower to maintain control.
As he lay trapped beneath the car, the limited visibility only intensified the sensations he was feeling. Unable to see her, every touch and movement became a surprise, heightening his reactions. The unexpected nature of the moment combined with his confined position made everything more exotic.
The cool concrete of the garage floor contrasted sharply with the warmth of her mouth, sent waves of pleasure through him. Dean's hands instinctively sought something to grasp, settling on the edges of the creeper he was lying on.
Every movement Rae made was deliberate and teasing. His moans grew louder, echoing in the garage, revealing just how much he was into her. Her mouth gliding up and down his length, his body near the edge. Her free hands gently caressing and tugging. Her mouth trying to take everything of him.
Dean always considered himself reserved when it came to sex, yet Rae seemed to have power over him that unraveled him. Suddenly, a quick pause, but he didn't have time to be disappointed. In one languid movement, he felt himself slip in her, hot, wet, and tight, her thighs against his. Rae's hands on the Impala's grille, riding his fully awakened and wet cock like a cowgirl.
"Oh, God," he murmured as every ounce of him devoured her. Her moans with his filled the room as she rhythmically moved on top of him. Frustration bubbling in him; he couldn't see Rae's face marred with pleasure. Eyes fluttering, brows arched, lips slightly parted, soft sighs and moans released, flushed look across her cheeks down to her neck. While it was always the same, for him, it was more. But the sensation of him being inside her wetness overpowered his frustration. As he quickened his rhythm, he moved faster than Rae might have anticipated. He had an overwhelming desire, a need even, to see her.
A mix of surprise and passion took over Rae's face as Dean displayed his Winchester determination and strength, while still in her. She may have started the game, but Dean was showing her he was equally adept at taking control or maybe even more.
The cold steel of the Impala's hood pressed against her back contrasted sharply with the heat of Dean's body, pinning her down, setting an intense pace. In a blur movement, her shirt was torn open, his tongue lashing on her bountiful breast, while his hand skillfully teased the other. Her gasps grew louder with each motion, loving and violent. She reached out, gripping the car's edge, trying to gain some leverage; he wasn't about to give up control.
"Uh-uh, sweetheart." Dean leaned into her, the hot whisper of his breath on her ear sending her senses into overdrive. Her legs wrapped around him, back arched as far as she could, more of him hitting her sensitive spot over and over again. His words, intimate and deep, added an intensity, driving Rae to the brink. His teeth grazing her earlobe drew a strangled moan from her lips, her body reacting instinctively to the pleasure and pain.
She reached for him, drawing him into a fervent kiss as his thrusts became more and more violent. Her hand slipping down, rubbing herself, adding to the mounting pleasure. As she attempted to break the kiss, Dean held her close, his fingers wound tightly into her hair, eager to feel her cries of ecstasy against his lips. It wasn't long before he got what he wanted.
Rae's entire body tensed and quivered, waves of pleasure rolling over her one after the other. With every thrust from Dean, another sharp, breathless gasp escaped her lips, echoing the powerful sensations surging through her. As Dean maintained his relentless rhythm, she found herself succumbing to multiple orgasms, each one more intense than the last.
Dean clenched his jaw, trying to maintain control. He didn't want to come yet. But, the sensation of her rhythm against him, combined with her writhing and moaning in pleasure, was overwhelming, pushing him to his limit. His muscles tightened, and his breathing grew ragged. An intense warmth spread through him. Each thrust became more deliberate, more urgent, as he neared his peak. With a guttural moan, a potent wave of pleasure overtook him. His grip on Rae intensified, his nails digging into her skin, marking the moment of his overwhelming release. His body shuddered, releasing every drop in her.
Catching his breath, Dean pressed his forehead against Rae's, locking eyes with her. A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You know, for just a routine car check… you sure know how to make things… interesting," he panted, his voice amused and satisfied. He paused for a moment before adding, "But damn, Rae, I wouldn't have it any other way."
Rae, still trying to catch her breath, laughed softly, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You think when Cas and Sam return from the store, Cas will pick up on our…cinnabon mix?
Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, Dean leaned heavily on Rae, their chests heaving in synchrony. The quiet was only interrupted by their shared breaths and the distant hum of the bunker's air system. The intimacy of the moment, combined with Rae's question, made him chuckle softly against her neck. "With that angel nose of his? Probably." He murmured, planting a gentle kiss on her collarbone.
"Think you can handle another round?" The subtle tone of challenge and the warmth of his breath stirred something in Rae.
Rae, with a playful gleam in her eyes, leaned in closer and murmured back, "Thought you'd never ask."