Wildest Dreams (Dean x Reader)

CHAPTER 4

From the second Dean entered your life, you left pure electricity. It was as if all of those stupid movies and love songs were right about meeting knowing when you've met the one. Dean was your one. Even if you were too young to know, even if you weren't meant to last forever.

You became inseparable, and even though your mom was worried about you skipping classes or being over the clouds for having a boyfriend, Dean had the opposite effect on you, and you were doing fantastic. So was he. He was so amazed at the fact he was getting A's non-stop as if it were that impossible. He was so smart, and you wished he could see that too.

One night, you sneaked out in the middle of the night to go stargazing with him, he had borrowed his dad's car, a black Chevy Impala, he so proudly let you know, and although you knew shit about cars, it was beautiful. Sorry, she. She was beautiful.

You went near the forest hills where you had the most incredible view of the city, and the stars shone brightly above your heads. He grabbed a blanket from the backseat and placed it on the hood so both of you could lay there, with the beautiful immensity of the universe before you.

"Hey, Dean...," you dared to speak up after a while, not wanting to really ruin the moment but wanting to know more about him. "Where do you see yourself in 10 or 15 years?". For a moment, you regretted asking that in the first place because you could feel his body tensing up at your sudden inquire, but then he quickly relaxed, his arm pulling you even closer to him.

"Hopefully with a beautiful girl named (Y/N) by my side" he teased trying to change the subject. He was smooth.

"I'm serious" you replied chuckling.

"Honestly? I don't know," he paused, and you could tell he wanted to say something that he shouldn't. "My dad wants me to join the family business, so I guess that's what I'll be doing," his voice was slightly lifeless as if the last thing he wanted was following his father steps.

"But, what do you want?".

He didn't reply instantly; in fact, he took his time to answer that. "I haven't thought about it; nobody has ever asked me that" he smiled bittersweet. "I like building cars so it'd be awesome to do that for a living."

"So, why don't you do that?".

His lips formed a line as he sighed through his nose, "it's not that simple, sweetheart. My dad, I have to do what he says. I don't want to fail him" he confessed looking down, almost with shame in his eyes.

You hugged him hard and rested your head on his chest. You never brought it up again. There was a reason why he never wanted you to meet his dad, why he never indeed told you what he did for a living and why he was so protective of Sam, just like a father would do. But right now, all you wanted to do was take care of him.

The two of you cuddled to the sound of some classic rock for the rest of the date, between soft kisses and smiles. It was one of those moments when the world moves so slowly you can actually feel the blood pumping through your heart, and your bones shifting. When you think that no matter what happens to you for the rest of your life, you will remember every last detail of that one minute forever.

The moments you feel alive.

You started to kiss again, this time the getting thicker and thicker. Your legs embracing the sides of his hips, his arms wrapped around you as you both got lost in your feelings for each other. He stopped to catch a breath, and you knew where this was going.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he said calmly, and it was just too sweet of him to say that. But you felt loved, comfortable and safe. If there was any perfect moment to do it, it was definitely this one.

"I want to," you reassure him in a whisper, "you're just gonna have to talk me through it a little."

You headed to the back seat and as you began stripping your clothes, feeling more and more sure that this was what you wanted. He was what you wanted. He was such a gentleman, slow and careful with every move he made, he didn't want you to feel pressured or weird about it. You lost every breath you had left when he began making love to you. This was something particular, there was nothing lustful about it.

This was love, true love.