Time

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"At this point, you might as well just move in. Half your shits already here," I teased. Elbow propped on my knee with my chin resting in my palm and a cold beer in the other hand, I watched Dean line up the corner of two boards, forming the edge of what would eventually be a kitchen cabinet (not that I had much to fill it with.) He chuckled around a nail trapped between his lips.

"Right, and make everyone even more suspicious," he mumbled around the metal piece, a hint of a smile rising on his lips. He outstretched one hand expectantly. Rifling through the objects that littered the ground at my feet, I found the mallet he was looking for and dropped it into his hand. He gave it a brief inspection and nodded in approval.

"I think Sam at least suspects already. Hell, if he hasn't guessed by now, I'd be shocked," I let out an airy laugh as I leaned back on my elbows, reclining in the soft grass. Summer was in full swing now and the entire camp was feeling the effects. Everyone was more lively, and productivity had skyrocketed. Smaller groups were now working cohesively within the pack to build their own homes – temporary structures that would hopefully become more temporary. As for the abandoned town, it was no longer abandoned. It was as liveable as it could possibly be, with working electricity powered by generators and plenty of space for storage and homes. Andrew and a few others had even taken one of the buildings for their own, turning it into a sort of rugged kitchen-butcher shop combination.

"He suspects, alright. Few weeks ago he asked me about my thoughts on you. Felt a little bit like an interrogation," he answered, glancing over his shoulder at me from where he kneeled beside my bent knees. Once again, he outstretched his hand, covered in bits of sawdust and the same dirt that stained his jeans.

My brows knitted together as I glanced between him and my beer. "Get your own!" I joked, pulling the cold glass away from him and taking another swig.

Dean's hand dropped limply at his side and a playful smirk tugged at his lips. "Do you want to build your own cabinets?"

"I can build a cabinet just fine," I answered with a shrug. He just shook his head with a chuckle.

"The last one you built wasn't even square."

"I didn't have the square tool!"

"Bullshit, I could've made a square cabinet in my sleep without a square," he said as a laugh tore from his throat. Butterflies bubbled up in my stomach and I bit my lip, watching his carefree smile. I was broken from my thoughts by his once again extended hand.

I narrowed my eyes playfully, still holding the beer from him. "You have to at least make it worth my while."

"Worth your- you're joking," he scoffed with an exasperated tilt of his head. I shook my head, struggling to suppress a grin. With a shake of his head he sat in the grass beside me. I yelped as he moved suddenly, one hand finding the back of my head. His lips fell softly to mind and I breathed out a soft sigh, one hand gripping the front of his black t-shirt, a color far too dark for a warm summer day, not that he seemed to care.

I puffed out a hot breath as his teeth gently pulled on my bottom lip. I parted my own, eagerly meeting him, only for him to pull back as quickly as he had descended. His rough hand wrapped around mine that still held the beer bottle and I let go easily. "That's not fair," I exhaled, cheeks flaming.

He took a long sip of the beer before passing it back to me. "You know I don't like to play fair, sweetheart."

"Should've learned my lesson by now," I groaned and fell backwards into the grass, a long strand tickling my cheek. "Shouldn't expect anything less from you." He laughed and twisted to lean over me, palm finding my cheek. I tilted my head to see him stretch out, the half-finished cabinet long forgotten. Dean leaned down once again to press a kiss to my lips, one I happily reciprocated with fingertips raking through his hair.

I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader] Book 2Where stories live. Discover now