Smoke Eater - Part 7
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader
Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he��s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.
That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.
🔥 Series Masterlist
AN: So I don't know why it takes me exactly seven chapters to get to the smut, but so far that's three different series where that's happened. 😂 (Never Say Goodbye, Break Me Down, and now Smoke Eater. Go figure! 🤷🏽♀️)
Word Count: 6,200
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! For smutty smut and baking shenanigans, tinge of angst.
Part 7: “Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle”
You liked Dean’s apartment. It was on the second floor out of three, and a modest, clean, comfortable space.
Though overall it felt very “dude bro” in décor. You supposed that made sense, considering it was just Sam and Dean living here.
And while you still hadn’t met Sam (he was working late tonight), it gave you a chance to do something you’d been very much looking forward to doing with Dean…
“Not for nothin’, this is probably one in three of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth,” said Dean.
True to his word, his mouth was full. You giggled as a flake of pasta spewed from his mouth.
“Oh really? Makes me curious about the other two,” you said mischievously. And you handed him a napkin to blot his face.
You sat across from him in the small dining room adjacent to the kitchen. The table itself was barely big enough to fit in the space, feeling more like a nook than a room, but it sat three people. That was usually enough for Sam and Dean, and occasionally Eileen when she came over.
Dean chuckled, his brows dancing. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find out.”
Your face warmed at that, despite your amusement. You had made dinner, for which Dean had been more than enthusiastic.
“You mean I get an actual chef making me food? Sign me the hell up,” he’d teased.
Never mind that you weren’t an actual chef. You had focused on patisserie in culinary school. He didn’t seem to mind though, as he’d devoured two servings of salmon and fettucine alfredo, even down to the steamed broccoli. You had to admit, it warmed you inside to see him enjoy your food.
You’d promised to cook for him last week, and he hadn’t let it go until both your schedules opened up enough for you to come over.
He now hummed in satisfaction as he finished off the last bite on his plate and wiped his mouth with the napkin.
“Thanks for this, sweetheart. I needa have you around here more often,” he said, tossing you a grin.
You smiled back. “It’s my pleasure.”
It wasn’t the first time Dean had invited you over to his apartment, but for the life of you, you didn’t know why it had taken you so long to accept.
…Well, okay, you did know why. You were reluctant to leave your grandfather alone, potentially all night. But George had been adamant about you going out for as long as you wanted, on the promise that he’d check in every few hours until he went to bed.
“Okay, ready for dessert?” you asked.
“Uh, yeah,” Dean said. He still thought about those cookies you brought to the firehouse, almost a month ago already.
Damn, has it really been that long? he thought as he helped you collect the dishes from dinner. He followed you into the kitchen, where you already knew the lay of his land.
Sam couldn’t cook for shit, so it usually fell on Dean to be the figure of culinary expertise. But he had no problem making way for you, especially if you were going to look over your shoulder and wink at him like that.
“Good, because you’re going to help me,” you informed him.
Dean’s smile grew. “All right…what did you have in mind?”
While he started on the dishes in the sink, you hauled out even more ingredients from a big grocery bag you’d brought and stored in the refrigerator. He watched you out of the corner of his eye and spotted lemons, among other things.
“Lemon drizzle cake,” you replied. “One of my grandma’s recipes. I just need a mixing bowl and a cake tin.”
“Good, because we’re not very Betty Crocker in this place. Let’s just say my kitchen tools are limited,” he said, raising a brow at you. “You know, if you wanted to bake, I’m sure you’ve got all the proper bells and whistles at your house. We could’ve done this over there.”
You paused to consider the question he wasn’t quite asking, because he had a point. You could’ve invited him over your house instead. You joined him near the sink and leaned against the counter, tapping your nails on the tile surface.
“Well, as you know, I live with my grandpa,” you said.
“Good ol’ George,” Dean grinned. “That guy’s hilarious. Like the fourth Stooge.”
He particularly liked the story you’d told him about the time George had bought you your first makeup palette when you turned fifteen, but hadn’t told you it was face paint…the kind that clowns used.
“And I’d love for you two to get to know each other better. Don’t get me wrong. But barring the fact that we probably wouldn’t have much…privacy,” you pointed out with a subtle smile, trying to ignore Dean’s resulting smirk. Never mind that you two hadn’t needed “privacy” just yet.
“I guess I’m just not used to inviting people over. I’ve been trying to limit the exposure to germs in the house,” you admitted. At Dean’s quizzical look, you had to explain.
“My grandfather had cancer last year,” you said. “He had surgery to remove the mass, and did well, considering his age. He’s in remission now…but I’m still looking after him.”
You’d gone with him to see his primary doctor a couple of weeks ago for that persistent cough. While the doctor seemed to think it was George’s asthma acting up, you’d still scheduled an appointment with his oncologist.
And while your thoughts led you down an all-too familiar path, Dean processed this with a nod of his head. He shut off the sink. After drying his hands, he looked over at you and brushed your cheek with his thumb.
“I’m glad he’s doing better now,” he said. His brows furrowed. “And your grandma passed just a few years before that?”
You nodded, letting out a deep breath. “Yeah. It’s been a long few years.”
So, Dean took an inventory in his mind as he rested a comforting hand on your back. You took care of your family. You could cook. You were beautiful. And still, you kicked ass at your job and seemed to have the rest of your shit together.
He had to admit. The more he learned about you, the more he liked you.
“Anyway,” you shook your head with a smile. “Sorry. Ready to bake?”
Dean’s lips quirked as he followed you to the other side of the kitchen. He stepped behind you and letting his hands fall to your waist. His lips skimmed the side of your head, pressing a kiss there.
“Okay, Rachael Ray,” he teased. “Teach me your ways.”
You were trying to measure out some sugar in the bowl first, but you giggled with a warm blush as he kissed his way down your neck.
“Are you actually going to help, or are you just going to distract me?” you volleyed back.
Dean hummed against the crook of your neck. “Can’t I do both?”
You picked up and egg and raised it level with his face.
“Hmm, should I try cracking this against your forehead?” you pondered.
His teeth playfully nipped your skin in retaliation, making you flinch with a yelp. The egg actually cracked in your hand.
“Shit,” you laughed, and you quickly dropped as much of it in the bowl as possible. But getting fractals of the shell in the bowl disturbed your anal sense of meticulousness. When it came to cracking eggs, you typically had nothing if not precision.
You shot Dean an accusatory look over your shoulder. He just grinned back at you.
“Am I helping yet?” he joked.
You chuckled dryly in response. “Just you wait.”
A few more minutes and “helpful” distractions from Dean later, you successfully had a cake batter in the bowl. You were hand mixing up a storm and sorely missing your Kitchen Aid mixer. Dean was right though; his cupboards had little more than one cake pan, one mixing bowl, and one wooden spoon.
At home, you had a modest collection of cookware and bakeware that rivaled Williams & Sonoma. Though that had been a gift from your grandparents, when you graduated from culinary school. (Your grandma had picked them out before she passed.)
“What’s your favorite dessert?” you asked Dean. You were pretending not to catch him sampling the batter with a finger while you buttered the cake tin.
“Ever?” he asked, rubbing a licked finger on his jeans.
“Yeah. Number one top favorite.”
“Hmm,” he contemplated with a cross of his arms. “Pie, I guess.”
You smirked. That explained his little man-child display a few weeks ago, when you’d tried to share his blueberry pie on your second date.
“What flavor?” you asked.
“I dunno. I’m not real picky,” he said.
“Come on. Everyone has a favorite flavor,” you reasoned. “I’m more of a cake girl myself, but even I love a blueberry pie.”
Dean eyed your teasing grin with a growing smirk of his own. He remembered that day in your office just as well as you.
“Okay, fine. Apple, I guess,” he replied. You gave him a mocking look.
“Really, the most basic of them all?” You tsked at him, shaking your head. “What happened to Mr. Rocky Road?”
Dean chuckled, but he leaned against the counter next to you. Instead of giving it to you right back, as usual, he looked more thoughtful. A gentler look grew on his face. It caught your attention.
“You know, one of my earliest memories…” He looked up at you then, more self-deprecating.
You realized he was about to admit to something, maybe embarrassing, or maybe just vulnerable. Your smile softened too as you paused in what you were doing.
“You can’t leave me hanging on that one,” you said. And you drew closer with a hand soothing up his arm.
He glanced over at you. “I remember being…four, probably. My mom made pies during Christmastime. Cherry, pecan, whatever. But my favorite was her apple pie. I still remember it, because I haven’t had a pie since that tasted like that one.”
Your heart clenched, but your insides also warmed. Not just at the story of his mother, but the way Dean told it, his voice softer, steady, and deep. It told you a lot about him without him having to explain; just like you, he knew what loss was.
You curled your hands around his bicep and pressed a kiss to his shoulder. Then your gaze drew back up to his.
“Have you talked to your dad since the last time?” you asked, a bit cautiously. “About his investigation of the fire?”
Dean sighed deep through his nose. “No.”
But despite his father’s warning, he had spoken to Sam.
“It’s different this time, Sam. The brand marks are the same,” Dean argued with his brother, this time in the living room. He sat on the couch while Sam stood, trying to process everything Dean had just told him about Mary’s potential murder.
“You saw the pictures yourself?” Sam asked.
Dean frowned. “No, but Dad—”
“Dean,” Sam cut him off as he gripped at his temples in frustration. “This is what he does. He sees evidence where he wants to see evidence. I’ve been down this road with him too, you know.”
“Yeah, I know,” Dean gritted out. John had roped Sam into helping him a few times, using his ADA status to look into different leads that ultimately hadn’t panned out.
“They always look like connections to him, but they never end up being anything more than his obsession,” Sam said.
He was firm, and Dean understood why, but his gut was telling him that it was different this time…
Still, he had no choice but to let it go. For now.
Dean shook his head of that memory. Instead, he tried to focus on being here with you. He liked this little yellow sundress you had on, despite the fall chill starting to set in outside. As usual, your hair was clipped up away from your neck while you got ready to put the now full cake tin into the oven.
He came over behind you and freed your hair from the clip, letting it all tumble down. You yelped and glanced over at him.
“Dean,” you chided, even though you were smiling. “My hair’s going to get in the batter.”
“I’ll keep it away, don’t worry,” he said lightly. He curled some of your hair around his hand so he could once again press a tantalizing kiss to the back of your neck. He felt you shiver.
You subtly leaned back against him, even as you whined in protest.
“Can you just let me get this in the oven?” you asked on a laugh. He smirked against your skin. You did manage to get the cake in the oven, but his lips and teasing hands were unrelenting as you tried to start cleaning up.
So you felt you had to take matters into your own hands. A mischievous idea had you smiling. You reached out for some flour that had spilled on the counter.
You turned, and before he realized what you were up to, you marked his forehead with an arch of white against his skin.
“Simba,” you said in a deeper voice, trying to mimic Mufasa from The Lion King.
Dean’s brows rose along with his widening eyes. He’d never seen you do something that childish, but it sparked his competitiveness as he blinked a bit of flour out of his eyes.
“You’re real proud of yourself, aren’t you?” he asked.
Your little smirk was answer enough. You flicked a bit more flour onto his shirt.
Dean chuckled darkly. “Okay, you asked for it.”
Both a gasp and a giggle caught in your throat.
“Oh, no.”
He reached past you for some flour off the counter and flicked it down at you, into your hair, across your face. He grabbed your flailing wrist and marked your cheeks. All the while, his grin grew ever deeper at your shrieking protests.
But you grew devious. You stuck two fingers into the bowl and scraped out a gob of raw, yellow batter. You were fully prepared to fling it into his face, but Dean grabbed your wrist.
“Ey, ey!” he raised a warning finger with his free hand. “You’re about to take this to a new level.”
You met his gaze through your lashes with a playful smile. “So?”
Dean raised a brow at you. He could admit, you had audacity. All he could do was call your bluff.
He took one of your battered fingers into his mouth. Your eyes widened at the feel of his soft tongue swirling around your finger, sucking it clean. All the while, his eyes never broke from yours.
Lord have mercy, you thought. Really, it was the only coherent one in your head.
He soon released you with a soft pop, before he did the same to the second finger.
Your breath hitched, and your blush was a living thing spreading down your neck, even as warmth pooled between your legs. By the time your second finger slid out of his mouth, you had to reach back to grip the counter just to steady yourself.
His arm slipped around your waist, and you reached for his face with both hands, bringing him down for the hottest kiss you’d ever had in your life. Teeth clicking, lips and tongues warring and devouring. Your fingers slipped roughly through his hair, while he gripped your hips and ass with a passion just shy of bruising.
You almost didn’t register the way his hands slipped under your thighs, to then heft you up onto the counter. You gasped into his mouth and clung tightly to his shoulders. He chuckled and positioned himself to stand between your legs.
“What, need a little warning?” he teased. Though he was breathless as your soft lips veered away from his, starting a burning path across his jaw and down his neck. You left the remnants of your lipstick all along the way, but it was the occasional graze of your teeth that had him moaning for you.
“Maybe,” you whispered coarsely against his skin, uttering a small laugh, “Sometimes I forget how damn strong you are.”
He scoffed. “Sweetheart, if I can heft a grown man on my shoulders up a flight of stairs, I can get you up on a little counter.”
You snorted in response. Perks of dating a firefighter.
And you shoved off his plaid shirt from his shoulders. Dean helped you by letting it drop the rest of the way to the floor, followed by his black undershirt.
You couldn’t believe this was the first time you were seeing him with his shirt off. It was a damn shame, really. But you caught the bit of smugness curving his lips at the way you were ogling, first with your eyes, then with your exploring hands over his toned arms and chest, and the solid plane of his abs, all the way down to his belt. You started undoing the clasp.
Dean couldn’t believe he was doing this, but he stopped you with his hands gently curling around your wrists. You looked up at him in confusion. To him, you looked unbelievably sexy then. Thoroughly kissed, hair tousled, a strap of your dress fallen to one shoulder while your lacey black bra peeked through.
Just the memory of having your curves in his hands had his dick hardening in his jeans, but he blew out a breath.
“Dean?” you asked. “What’s wrong?”
His hands tightened on yours as he peered down at you. “Are you sure?”
You blinked incredulously. “Did I look not sure?”
He paused, licking his lips. He raised a hand to hold your cheek.
“I just…you know I’m trying to do this right with you,” he said. “I just want to know…”
He couldn’t seem to finish what he was trying to say, but you thought you understood. You smiled up at him warmly. You leaned up for a kiss, softer this time.
“Dean, I trust you,” you said. And you could finally say it with no reservations. “I think this feels real. More real than anything I’ve had in a long time… What about you?”
When Dean smiled, it was warm, melting away the doubt in his eyes.
“Yeah, me too,” he said.
He seemed sincere. Maybe this man spared few words when it came to how he felt, but you’d seen a glimpse of the deeper parts. He felt things deeply, down to his bones.
His fingers sunk into your hair, and he guided you into a kiss. It was slower, but no less heady and wanting than the first. Your arms wrapped around his middle, letting you flatten your palms against the muscles in his back. But just as you were getting comfortable, Dean broke the kiss. He flashed you a smirk.
Before you could ask what the hell he was about to do, he’d hefted you back into his arms and over his shoulder. You squawked in protest as your whole world tipped over. Your face thudded on his back with a soft oof, your hair loose and falling like a curtain. Your hands accidentally fell against his ass.
“Ooh, someone’s handsy,” Dean teased.
“Dean!” you exclaimed, despite your peals of laughter. “Is this really necessary? I think I can find your room just fine.”
“Call it an officer’s escort,” he supplied.
“That’s for policemen!” you argued.
You couldn’t see it, but you could imagine the way he was grinning from ear to ear as he carried you through the apartment. You never noticed just how long his bowed legs were as he strode onward. But it felt like his shoulder was digging into your appendix.
Grunting in frustration, you slapped his ass again for good measure.
Dean laughed. “Hey, you’re only fueling my fire, baby.”
He slapped your ass right back, since he had an even better vantage point. He even slipped a hand underneath your little sundress and squeezed the inside of your thigh teasingly.
Your answering yelp, and the futile kick of your feet, had him laughing harder. His cheeks were aching.
Finally he reached his room, where he shut the door with his foot. He was gentle as he eased you off his shoulder and laid you down on his bed. You let out a breathless huff once your head hit the pillows. Your face was all red from being suspended upside-down, your hair a mess, and your dress pooling over your folded legs.
You gave Dean a playful glare. “Get over here.”
His smirk deepened, but he obliged you. He chucked his shoes off first, just like you let your sandals slip off the side of the bed.
He soon made his way up the bed, until he was hovering over you with his arms braced on either side of your head. He liked the way you were all laid out for him over his sheets, your wild hair spread over his pillows. He’d pictured something like this before, but nothing came close to having you for real.
He just didn’t know you’d been dreaming of the same thing.
You hadn’t allowed yourself to truly fall for someone, not in a long time. You’d been too focused on pivoting after school, on building your career, on taking care of your family. You’d dated here and there, but nothing had stuck for more than a few months. Even then, you’d never felt half of what you felt right now.
It scared you a little, but it also made you feel alive. Being with Dean made you feel that way.
So you took his face between your hands. His stubble rasped against your palms and the pads of your fingers. You didn’t mind that though. He’d left it a bit long for a shave last week. When you’d mentioned off-hand that you liked the thicker scruff (thinking it made him all the more handsome), he’d kept it for you.
Now, he seemed like he was waiting on your cue.
You guided him down to you. He kissed you hot and slow, while a hand moved to your waist and clenched in the material of your dress. He slipped a heavy thigh between both of yours. The pressure was welcome, but you wanted friction.
You bunched up the skirt of your dress and aimed to slip it off, but Dean stopped your hands.
“That’s my job,” he teased.
“Then how about you get to it?” you countered with a smile. He rose a brow at you.
“A bit bossy, but I can dig that,” he smirked.
His kisses dropped against your neck, down your exposed neckline, and he peeled down the straps of your dress one by one. Your breathing became more labored as he touched you, squeezing a breast over the bra as he exposed more inches of your body.
Your fingers carded through his hair on a sigh as he made his way further down. Though he finally got impatient enough to work your dress off all the way, followed by his jeans and your bra and matching lacey panties. He lavished attention what felt like all over your body.
Really, he was just strategic. He stopped in places where you lost breath, moaning his name. Like the spot just under your ear, where he sucked hard enough to make you see stars. Or over your breasts, taking a pebbled nipple in his mouth, swirling with his tongue like he had the cake batter off your fingers.
His hands mapped out the soft planes and curves of your body for the first time, sometimes smooth and grazing, sometimes adding pressure that made warmth continue to pool between your legs.
He went further still, wrapping an arm around your thigh and pressing nipping kisses along the inside. All the while his mouth drew closer to the place you wanted him the most. Even though you still raised up on your elbow and gave him a questioning look.
“Really? You want to…” Your voice came out in a whisper.
Dean looked up at you with puzzled brows. “Why not?”
You shook your head, your eyes widening marginally.
“No reason, I guess. I, um…I’ve never had someone do this for me first.” And certainly not on the first time having sex.
Dean frowned.
“Really?” he asked. “A guy’s never gone down on you first?”
You blushed. “Well, maybe with his fingers, but not…”
He shook his head and let out a breath. You felt it between your thighs, and your core clenched in anticipation.
“Okay, baby. I gotcha,” he said. He guided you back down with a gentle hand. “Just lie back and relax.”
You smiled, despite your lingering blush, and you stroked the hand that rested above your stomach. That hand soon slid down as he once again kissed and licked down your thighs. They quivered a bit as his fingers slipped between your folds.
“So fucking wet for me already,” he said in approval. You peered down at him, unable to help a smile.
“You want a medal?” you quipped.
Dean’s brows rose.
“Oh, I’m about to earn it.” His eyes found yours. “You know what my real favorite pie flavor is?”
Your brows knitted together. “What?”
A familiar smirk crossed his lips. “Cherry.”
Before your choked surprise could be broken with a laugh, he began.
And he wasn’t lying, about any of it. The pads of his fingers began toying with your clit, and that alone had your breath hitching and your hips squirming.
He held you down with one hand on your lower belly while his tongue joined his fingers, seeking your heat and finding the hot channel where you craved to be filled. You gasped.
“Oh, God,” you uttered. Once his warm tongue began rolling inside you, you almost couldn’t breathe.
He worked you over with fingers, lips and tongue until you were arching off the bed, fists clenched in his hair and in the sheets, releasing broken gasps of his name. He didn’t relent until your thighs stopped shaking around his head. Your knees were damn near pinning him there.
He eventually withdrew, wiping his mouth and nose with the back of his hand. He moved smoothly back up your body and heeded the pull of your hands on his arms, and then his face. You tugged him down for a sloppy kiss.
“How’s that for a first?” he asked breathlessly. His tone was teasing, but he was half-serious you thought, by the look in his eyes.
You were honest, without a hint of a joke. “Fucking incredible. Just like you.”
Dean wouldn’t admit it then, but what you said warmed him. He looked down on you with a smile.
Your hands caressed his face, down his neck and firm chest, and further still to caress his straining length over his boxer briefs. Dean let out a halting moan at your gentle touch.
“What if I want to return the favor?” you asked with a smile. He made a sound deep in his throat when you cupped him more firmly, letting your thumb brush over the head.
Well hello, you thought. He was thick, and a bit longer than your first thought. Your already sensitive core tightened at the thought.
Meanwhile, Dean squeezed your arm. His hot gaze bore into yours.
“Very, very tempting.” His thumb brushed your lower lip. “I’ve no doubt you’ve got some talents yourself.”
You smiled under the pad of his thumb. Part of you was contemplating some retribution, sucking it into your mouth the way he’d done to your fingers in the kitchen.
“But I’m thinkin’ I want to skip to the part where I have you coming apart all over again,” said Dean. His head bowed near your ear, though his lips skimmed the side of your face. “This time, from the inside.”
His voice was deep and threaded with grit. You bit your lip on a giddy laugh. You managed to nod, sweeping your shaky fingers through his hair.
“Okay, next time then,” you promised and gave him a sensuous kiss. “But first, just want to make sure you’re ready for me…”
You leaned down to slide his underwear for him, down to his knees. He helped you the rest of the way, kicking them off his legs. When he came back, you were sitting up.
You soothed warm hands along his thighs and took his cock into your hands. Dean dropped his forehead onto your shoulder with a grunt, again squeezing your arms as you touched him properly for the first time.
Dean had a habit of impressing you, and this was no different. You liked the feel of him in your hands, warm and thick and heavy.
After licking your hand to coat it with some wetness, you experimented for a moment in how you stroked him, trying to get a feel for what he liked just as he had for you. He gasped and jolted on one particular twist, and he finally stopped you with a hand on your wrist.
“Okay, baby. Keep that up and we’re not gonna get much farther for a while,” he said coarsely.
It was satisfying to know you’d made him feel even a fraction of how he’d made you feel.
You pressed a purposeful kiss into his neck. “I told you, next time I’ll take care of you for real.”
He chuckled, cupping the side of your face.
“Oh, you’re about to. Believe me,” he said.
He kissed you long and deep, until you were once again breathless. The two of you were kneeling in the middle of the bed like you had all the time in the world. And yet, you wanted him more than ever.
“I’m on birth control,” you told him between more fervent kisses, hands drifting, feeling skin to warm, dewy skin, breaths mingling.
“And I’m clean,” he said. You nodded, hesitating…
“It’s our first time,” you said. “Condom, just to be safe.”
He hesitated only a beat before he nodded back, agreeing to your request. “Yes, ma’am.”
He broke from you briefly. He turned and dug into his nightstand while your nails drew light patterns down his back. It was distracting in the best of ways. A trill of excitement had his hands moving quickly, ripping the foil packet open and fitting himself with the condom.
When he was ready for you, he turned and hooked an arm around your waist. You twined your arms around his neck, and once again, you let him lay you down. His kiss came first, and then his fingers between your legs, past your folds to stroke you back to life.
You moaned into his mouth and wrapped your legs around his hips. Though he surprised you again by hooking your legs over his shoulders. Your brows raised at him, and he shot you a wink.
“Trust me, you’ll like it this way,” he said.
You did trust him. Your hands caressed down his neck, down his chest, and you subtly urged him with your heels on his back, encouraging him where you both knew he needed to be.
And with one slow push, his cock was stretching your inner walls with slow, delicious friction. You both groaned at the feeling. His forehead pressed against yours. His hand trembled slightly, brushing your hair away from your face. And he began moving inside you in steady strokes.
Dean was putting his all into this tonight. He thought your promises to take care of him next time were as endearing as they were sexy as hell. Even now, you were touching him wherever you could reach, occasionally moaning his name in his ear, encouraging him with every thrust inside you.
Fuck, he was right, you thought. He was reaching places deep inside you, filling you to the very brim. And you were already on the edge of pleasure, brows furrowed, biting your lower lip so hard that your teeth nearly broke the skin…
Your fingers slipped down between you to further part your folds and rub your already sensitive clit. Dean caught the hint and moved your hand to do it himself, as in time with his thrusts as he could. Finally, you unraveled for the second time that night. Your gasp gave way to a moan.
Your tightening walls gripped him like a vice. His release hit him with the same force, choking a near shout out of him. His hand was a bit too tight in your hair, he realized, so he forced himself to ease up.
He petted over your hair instead as he came down with ragged breaths. After he released your shaky legs back to the bed, he leaned mostly on his elbow and thigh instead of sinking all his weight onto you.
You appreciated that. You soothed up and down his back while you panted for breath.
“Wow,” you managed to say.
Dean’s chuckle took him by surprise too.
“Yeah,” he agreed. He turned his head to press a sloppy kiss where your neck met your shoulder.
Just then, a distant-sounding jingle reached your ears. It was familiar…and you remembered it was the alarm on your phone, which was probably in the kitchen.
“Oh shit,” you gasped. “The cake’s still in the oven.”
He blinked. “Well, I don’t smell burning, so we’re good.”
“Dean! You’re a firefighter, remember?” you laughed, but you still tapped his shoulder so he’d roll over. Reluctantly he did, but he still took you with him, even after he’d slid out of you.
You yelped and clung to his shoulders to balance yourself. “I gotta get the cake!”
“Five more minutes,” he grumbled into your neck. He also liked the way your breasts were pressed against his chest.
“It’s going to be so…damn…burnt!” You punctuated each of those syllables with a playful smack on his arm, until he finally released you with a lazy smirk.
You shook your head and huffed in amusement. Sliding out of bed, you searched around your dress. The first thing you found was his discarded undershirt. You slipped it on real quick and cautiously padded out of Dean’s room. You didn’t know if Sam was back from work, but this was not how you wanted to meet him.
The halls were quiet, so you didn’t think he was home yet. You managed to get to the kitchen unscathed, where you turned off your timer and grabbed some oven mitts. You opened the oven and pulled out the cake, setting it down on the counter. Your eyes narrowed at the almost perfect dome on top.
“What’s the verdict, Chef Ramsay?”
Dean leaned in the doorway, dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants and nothing else. The view was delectable, but you sighed and gestured at the cake with a shake of your head.
“It’s burnt.”
“What? No, it’s not,” he refuted. He joined your side and stared down at the top of the cake, which was half browned. “Looks all right to me.”
“Trust me, it’s going to be dry,” you said, “even with the lemon drizzle on it.”
It was the perfectionist in you that smarted with disappointment. You didn’t want to serve anyone something you weren’t proud of, especially Dean. But he just leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of your head.
“Don’t beat yourself up,” he said. “I’m still gonna eat the crap out of it.”
You glanced at him, unable to help a small smile. He grinned back.
“Anyway, I think it was worth it. Don’t you?” Dean said. He pulled you in towards him by your waist, and you went willingly, resting your hands against his bare chest. You let your nails drag against his skin a little as you contemplated.
You looked up at him with a grin of your own.
“Yeah. Definitely worth it.”
Dean later sat with you again at the table, this time with your chairs closer together as you each ate large slices of delicious cake (even if it was a bit dry). Out of the corner of his eye, he noted the copious number of dishes still left in the sink and the flour and batter sprinkled across the counter.
He knew Sam was going to have a conniption when he got home (in the morning at this rate). He was probably crashing at Eileen’s apartment tonight.
Good, Dean thought. That meant he’d have the place all to himself, with you.
“You know, I just realized something,” he said.
You knew that look in his eyes. He was about to say something smartass.
“What’s that?” you asked. He reached out and thumbed at your chin.
“I just got my dessert twice in one sitting,” he remarked. “That’s pretty damn good, if you ask me.”
You snorted in laughter. You also blushed, but you were unable to stop smiling either.
You set down your fork and eased back from the table. Your hand on Dean’s shoulder encouraged him to do the same, so you could sit across his lap. He welcomed you with a warm hand on your bare thigh. Already it was creeping under the shirt you borrowed.
You stroked his cheek with the back of your hand and gave him a mischievous smile.
“Think you could handle another serving?”
AN: 🫣 Was it everything you wanted it to be? lol I love me some baking innuendo. What did you like more: eating the cherry pie or making the lemon drizzle? 😏❤️🔥
In Part 8, Dean's past comes a knockin'...
Next Time:
While you were getting dressed, a phone buzzed on one of the nightstands beside the bed. It was Dean’s phone.
You went over to it curiously as you fixed the straps of your dress. The screen showed a missed text message from last night, around 10:00 p.m., and another one this morning. You read the latest one with a sinking feeling in your chest.
From Marissa: Surprised I didn’t hear back from you last night. The offer still stands. 😘
Keep Reading: PART 8
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Duck, Duck, Pitbull
Joel Miller x Winchester!Reader
Summary: You and your brothers picked up two hitch hikers near your compound in Jackson. This follows the important scenes between a Miller and a Winchester.
Word Count: 11k+
Warnings: Fem!reader, i do an abrupt pov shift once, SPN x The Last of Us crossover, age gap ≥10 years, big bro!Winchesters, mentions/depictions of violence, smut (hair pulling, dom/sub dynamic?, vaginal penetration, praise kink, rough sex), mentions/depictions of pregnancy/miscarriage symptoms, slow burn, angst, fluff, typos, etc.
A/N: the smut is after the 👹, so you can skip it but i still think MINORS DNI honestly i wanted to just add a brother named dean but then i was like ah what the hell let's put THE Dean™ so i did lol.
rekindling the superwholock girlie though i never made it too far in supernatural. Tbh it doesn't warp the plot too much though.
Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @igotanidea @multifandom-fangirl4
have since cross posted on ao3
The sound of a gun's safety being unhinged was what made Joel freeze. He clenches his jaw and feels something poke the back of his head, undoubtedly a gun.
"Hands up," a deep voice calls behind him, "turn around. Slowly."
Joel thinks of Ellie as he raises his hands. Told that damned kid not to wander far. He sighs and hears the sound of his boots crunch the icy snow, melted by the entrance of this abandoned shed.
When he turns around, he sees four people, one of them was holding the gun to his face, and two of them had a hand on Ellie's shoulder.
The woman behind Ellie grins, "I told you he was hot."
Ellie and the man beside her makes a disgusted face and sound.
"Shut up," the man holding a gun to Joel's face barks to his side. He turns back to Joel and sighs, "I'm going to ask you questions, and if your response matches with the information your little girl gave us, we're not going to have any problems."
"And what if they don't," Joel quips back, eyes dark, lips pursed tightly.
"Well, then I assume one of you is lying to me, and that means you can't be trusted," he quips back.
Joel's eyes dart to Ellie.
"Hey, hey, look at me," the man blocks his vision, "what's your name?"
He huffs, "Joel."
"What's her name?"
"Ellie."
"Where are you two going?"
"North."
"Why?"
"I'm looking for my brother."
"What's your brother's name?"
Joel clenches his jaw, "Tommy."
"Is she your daughter?"
"No."
"Who is she then?"
Joel presses his lips together.
"Dean, that's enough," the woman cuts in.
"Don't interrupt me, kid," Dean barks back. He motions with his gun, "well, who is she."
"Cargo," Joel mutters.
Dean tilts his head and purses his lips. He drops his gun and puts it away, "what's your last name?"
Joel hesitates as he watches the two people with Ellie take their hands off her, the woman urging her to walk over to Joel. Ellie does so in a manner that seems somehow reluctant. Only when Joel has his hand on Ellie's arm does he reply to the man that was walking over to the others, "Miller."
Dean makes a fist and grunts victoriously. He turns to the man, "I fucking told you he's Joel Miller."
The taller of the three rolls his eyes and pulls out something from the back of his pocket and gives it to Dean. Joel's attention is averted when the woman pushes past between the two and waves at him, introducing herself with a soft smile. She points her thumb to one side, "this is my brother Dean," then the other, "and Sam. We're the Winchesters."
Joel furrows his brows, almost tempted to say he didn't give a fuck.
Her smile brightens, "just throwing that out there since we know your first and last names and all."
"Also, we know where your brother is," Sam says.
Dean casually walks off. Sam watches as he does so then turns back to his sister. She turns to him then to Joel, "wanna come with us? It would be stupid not to really, since we'll wind up at the same place anyway."
Sam gives Joel and Ellie a look before following after his brother.
Ellie turns to Joel and nudges him. Joel looks down at her, then back to the woman, "describe Tommy to me."
A loud voice calls out her name.
She huffs, "uh... lemme see. Dark hair, tanned skin, uh, uh--
The call is repeated, but much angrier this time.
"No time. But- oh- he does have a mustache like yours!" She waves her hands, "I really can't wait any longer. What do you say?"
Ellie nudges Joel sharper this time.
Joel grunts at the contact.
She sighs and turns to Ellie, saying goodbye when her name is called out like a battle cry, running off for her brothers.
"DUDE!" Ellie barks, turning to Joel.
Joel sighs, shaking his head, "wait!"
❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄
"Huh," I scoff, leaning at the side of the car, "I never thought I'd have my brother as competition." I smile to myself as I look past the open hood to see none other than a focused Joel, hands covered in motor oil, towel over his shoulder, brows furrowed with purpose.
He ignores me as I continue my teasing, "when did you and him become besties?"
"I'm just helping him with his car."
I roll my eyes as I walk back and eye the obsolete Impala my eldest brother was hellbent on reviving. I cross my arms and chuckle as I watch Joel dig his hands, armed with a hefty tool, deeper into the engine, lips curling at the action, "you do know Baby is off limits. He doesn't want anyone touching her, much less fixing her."
Joel eyes me before turning back to his work, "you seem affectionate over it too."
I laugh and shake my head. I shrug, "well I mean, it was our dad's." I walk near him, rubbing the outside of the car Dean spent tireless nights to achieve its sheen, "he passed before the world turned to fungus, so it was special then, and twice as special now." I put my hands behind my back, "reminds all of us of a time when things were..." I drag out and hum.
"Normal." Joel finishes for me.
"Less fungus-y," I correct, "my family's never been normal."
He grunts as he struggles against whatever he was doing.
"Plus, it keeps Dean sane. S'much as he can be."
"Well, I wouldn't worry about him getting bored," he sighs, propping the wrench back on the wheeled toolbox, and grabs his towel, wiping his hands on it. Joel turns to me, "he's got his work cut out for him."
I lick my lips and nibble at it as I smile at the gruff cutie. Joel turns back to Baby and sniffles.
"Tell me, cowboy," I tilt my head as shove my hands in my back pockets, "if you're not besties with my brother, then why are you helping him?"
He finishes wiping his hands when he turns back and says, "he promised me pie."
I pull my head back before I break into a loud cackle. I throw my head back and grip my ribs, "you say that," I sigh, leaning into him, grabbing his arm, "as if that's helping your case."
Joel eyes me as I catch my breath, "you do know that I baked the pie with him cause he," I raise a finger, "AND I QUOTE 'wants to prove to Miller that Winchester's pie is where it's at'. You do know that means you and him have been taking about pie, right? No one just talks about pie."
"What? Am I incapable of small talk?" Joel counters.
My eyes go wide, "yes! Why would either of you even atte-" I grunt, cutting myself off to prove a point. I purse my lips as I place my hands on my hips, "DEEEAN!"
Joel throws his towel back over his shoulder.
I tap my foot as I wait for a response. I get none.
I scream out again anyway, "JOEL SAID THAT HE CAN'T STAY FOR PIE CAUSE SOMETHING CAME UP."
Immediately there is a bustle behind the screen door to the garage, "aw, what?"
Joel and I turn to Dean as he comes out with two plates of pie with a grin. He hands one of them to Joel as he makes a face, "come on, man. You can stay for a slice."
I watch as Joel is urged with the plate. I hold back a laugh as I do so, then mask it by clearing my throat and getting the other plate from Dean. Immediately, he clicks his tongue and raises the plate over his head, scowling at me, "nuh-uh, this is mine," he motions to the door, "get your own plate."
I roll my eyes as grab the one meant for his bestie before Joel can. Dean hisses when I do so and I rush behind Joel as I take a bite. I swirl my fork in the whipped cream he added in the serving, "damn, Dean. Joel is mine. Stop trying to seduce him."
Dean gives me a face.
I lick my lips and push Joel from behind, "he has to wash his hands anyway. Can't let my man get poisoned."
Joel repels my push slightly, so I roll my eyes and grab his arm, dragging him inside. He eventually relents against my strength, tired to fight back at this point I think.
"He's not your plaything, assbutt!" Dean growls, as he follows us.
"Unfortunately," I mutter, turning over my shoulder, smirking at Joel before whispering, "but I'm trying to be."
I stop in my tracks before we reach the kitchen as someone calls my name. I turn and see it's Sam, holding a paper bag of what I assumed to be produce.
He eyes Joel hotly as he mutters out, "Miller."
Joel sucks in a breath and nods, "Winchester."
Sam begins to eye my grip on Joel. The latter then instinctively pulls me off. I give him a pout for it and eye Sam in retrebution.
Dean, at this point, walks in and notices the sasquatch, "oh, hey, Sammy," he stuffs a bite of pie in his face, "put that down over there."
I huff and turn to Joel, giving him a smile, "I'll get you a slice, go wash your hands."
I walk off, past Sam, who was still eyeing Joel, and grab a plate and fork to get a slice of pie, "you want one, Samsquash?"
"No," Sam blurts, eyes still on Joel, "I gotta get back," he pulls his head back and finally moves to set the paper bag down, "Eileen's making stew. Can't stay long."
I perk up at the sound of that, "oooh, is that what she's taking to the potlock?"
Sam smiles at me, "yep. What a' you bringing? Pie?"
Dean takes the plate of pie I sliced up for Joel and hands it to him himself. Joel, who was wiping his hands on the towel hung by the fridge, says a soft thanks.
I eye Dean but then turn to Joel with a smile.
The former points to the latter, "yeah. I couldn't stand the fact Joel said that lady Donna's pecan pie was the best he'd had in a long time."
Sam rolls his eyes and crosses his arms as Joel walks over to me, leaning on the counter same as I. Sam mumbles, "not everyone has access to pie in the apocalypse, Dean."
Sam then turns to Dean with an annoyed look as the eldest Winchester points a finger, "well, he lives here now, and in these parts, there's a hierarchy." He snaps his fingers and points at Joel, who I had been watching the entire time as he began to eat.
I give an expectant look, "good right?"
Joel turns to me, sighing as he takes another munch. He speaks with a full mouth, "really good."
I chuckle as Dean claps his hands before stretching it out, "and at the top: Winchester Apple Pie."
I snort as I turn to Dean.
Sam shakes his head as he withholds a grin, "right."
Dean glares at Sam, waving his hands, "I'm always right. Your point?"
"I'm leaving," Sam nods. He turns to me, ruffling up my hair, "later, kid."
I exaggeratedly grunt and shove him off, "later, loser."
Sam's amused expression flattens when he turns to Joel. He gives a wordless nod and Joel nods back.
❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄
"You fucker!" Ellie gasps as she breaks into a laugh.
I narrowed my eyes as I faux examined the surroundings, elbow propped on the sheep fence as I leaned my back on it. I pretend to only just hear Ellie. I give her a look, "you talking to me, punk?"
She snarls through a grin, "yeah, old lady!" Ellie bends down and bunches up snow in her hand, "you're the only one stupid enough to pick a fight with me!"
I raise my hands as she laughs and chucks snow to my face. I easily dodge her attack and whip my hair back, "wow, you call that a fight?"
Ellie groans, "oh, it's soooo on now!"
"Pssh," I eye her as I quickly bunch up snow, "I thought we were already fighting?"
One snowball thrown after another, it doesn't take long for me to yield to Ellie, allowing her the victory, which is all part of my mastermind scheme.
She giggles as she makes it over to me, lying down next to me on the snow I had dramatically fallen onto. I grunt and pant as Ellie plops down on the snow, "since this is the end, tell Joel I think he has a nice butt."
She giggles, "ew! Tell him yourself."
I grab snow and sprinkle it on her face, "I've been trying, Ellie."
She grunts and wipes her face, "well obviously not hard enough!"
I huff and push myself up on my elbows. I look down at Ellie as she purses her lips into a smile, "okay. What do you want me to do?"
She reaches out to me and I pull her up until she was sat down. I brush the snow off her and fix her beanie, "well. I got this dress-"
Ellie squeals out in giggles, "In October?"
"You didn't even know it was October," I growl, "and you didn't let me finish!" I shove her with my shoulder.
She laughs and brushes her hands off, "alright, alright... you got this dress."
I sigh and curl my legs into my chest, "It's more accurately an oversized sweater that I'm thinking to fashion with a belt or something..." I turn to Ellie wrapping my arms around my legs, "I was thinking you'd... ya know... help me get ready though."
Ellie perks up, "you want me to help you get ready?"
I playfully roll my eyes at her, "duhhh, Eileen is too busy for girl talk since he has my smelly brother and smelly nephew keeping her busy. Plus, she's pregnant, so."
Ellie throws her head back in laughter. I break into a chuckle and move to stand up, "and I mean that affectionately for Danny; he really just has some stinky farts. It's not his fault."
She stands up and dusts off the snow on her pants, "I'm in."
I smile at her, pulling her into a side hug, "my girl."
❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄
"Sooooo," Ellie trails off as she waddles next to Joel who was isolated at the end of the bar, "notice anything different with," she leans back on the bar top, tilting her head to Joel, wiggling her brows, "your favorite Winchester?"
Joel downs his bourbon and sets his glass on the coaster.
Ellie waits for him to react but then turns and props her elbow on the surface, clarifying who she meant.
"I know who you meant," he grunts.
"Well," she shrugs, "you and Dean have been getting close."
Joel eyes her.
"Hey!" she raises her hands, "you go to their house to fix his car, even though you say it'll take a miracle to make it work."
Joel licks his fang and swivels on his stool, averting his gaze elsewhere. He really didn't mean to see what he did.
Ellie catches it to, groaning in annoyance, "aw what! Not him again," she grunts, patting Joel's arm, "go do something."
Joel watches as the man laughs and leans close. Ellie cringes, "he's been trying to get her all attention all night," he turns to Joel, "cause she looks really cute in that dress, and you didn't even compliment her when I gave you an opening."
Joel's nostrils flare as he turns to Ellie, "you tend not to want to compliment someone when pinched on the side and threatened to do so."
She grumbles the way she did under her breath at that very moment Joel was referencing, "that's because you're an idiot with 0 game!"
He straightens up, "look," he snaps, "whatever it is you're doing, you need to stop."
Ellie glares daggers, "I don't understand your deal, Joel," she raises her voice, shifting in her spot to turn to him, "you don't like her?"
Joel turns from Ellie, off to the side, finding Sam stepped in and had now successfully scared of the guy that was making moves on his sister. He watches as Sam rolls his eyes at something that was said.
Joel turns back to Ellie, lips pursed. He doesn't respond.
"Then I honestly don't understand what your deal is," Ellie shakes her head, "she's made it crystal fucking clear that she likes you too."
"Ellie-"
"You're being such a wimp about it."
"It's not that simple."
Ellie makes a face, "it kinda is though," she raises a hand, "just go up to her and say 'wanna bang'-"
Joel groans.
"I guarantee-" Ellie hops in her eagerness, "GUARANTEE, that she will say yes."
"You need to hang out with people your age."
"Then make-" clap, "friends-" clap- "my-" clap, "age!"
Joel wipes his face. He doesn't get to respond as Ellie grabs his bicep. She hisses as he pulls him close, "she's on the move. I'm bringing her over. Don't fuck up."
Joel had little say in any of it. Soon enough Ellie came back with a look of vengeance on her face.
I purse my lips into a smile, "you wanted to talk to me Joel?"
Ellie answers for him, "yeah, he wanted to compliment your pie."
She shoves me next to Joel and I give her a look for her unnecessary manhandling. I watch as she gestures to Joel, pointing to fingers to her eyes before pointing them back and forth her and her dad.
I snort, kid is going overboard. I reach out and pinch her cheek, "I got it, baby doll. Go pick a fight with someone else."
"Oh-ho I will," Ellie says, gripping her fist, "Elijah and I are gonna have a rematch and I'm going to smother him in snow."
I chuckle, "yeah, you go do that."
Ellie walks off after that, muttering something under her breath about annihilation.
When I turn to the bar, I am surprised to see Joel reached out for a glass and is now pouring me a drink. He slides it over to me, chilled with ice, propped on a coaster and all and gives himself a refil.
I smile softly and take the cup, "thank you."
He grunts in response.
I take a sip of the drink. I catch him when he looks at me, and how he quickly looks away. He inhales sharply then takes a quick sip of his drink. We put our glasses down at the same time.
"So... that man that talked to you," Joel starts.
I raise my brows and cringe, "you mean that kid," I lean on my elbows, "darling just turned 19 and is ready to mate with anything within eye's view."
Joel can't help but chuckle.
I chuckle right back, leaning my head in my hand, "oh, you find that funny?"
Joel turns from his drink to me, shrugging as the tiniest of smiles laces his lips.
I shake my head, "he was persistent though. Convinced he could change my mind until Samsquash snarled at him," I chuckle lowly, "I'd say I feel bad, but somehow, though he's grown in the apocalypse, there's still a part of him that smells like the dudes that used to hit on me when I was younger. Full of themselves and entitled."
"I saw," Joel says, swirling his cup, "shudda snarled at him yourself. R' scarier than your brother."
I break into a giddy laugh. Joel turns to me then looks out the window past me, seeing that it was beginning to snow outside.
"I'm flattered," I say, straightening up, "twice over to know that you've been watching me."
Joel stills. He darts his eyes over to me. The grin on my lips widen.
Sam grunts at the sight of what was going on at the bar. That, and because his son, sat on his shoulders, was pulling his hair. He mutters lowly, "I don't like it."
Eileen, who was busy fixing the food with Maria and two other volunteers, eyes her husband and looks over her shoulder, spotting what was making Sam's blood boil so much. She sighs, "well, I'm happy to inform you it has nothing to do with you."
Sam turns to Eileen as he shakes his shoulders up for the entertainment of the kid on him, "you're kidding."
Eileen averts her attention to the coleslaw she was fixing, then to Sam, "what? You wanna be their third? That's weird as hell."
Sam grunts as Danny giggles and wraps his arms around his head, "higher, daddy! Higher!"
Sam adjusts his grip on his son's leg and clutches the side of his belly as he makes him bounce on his shoulder.
"Giddy up, horsey!" Dean blurts as he makes his way over to the buffet table, winding his hands up in the air. He lets out an airy sound and smirks at his baby bro, "woooow, fatherhood has made you it's b-" he cuts himself off, just as Sam eyes him. Dean corrects himself, "female dog."
Eileen snorts out a loud laugh as he takes Dean's plate, "you want some coleslaw?"
"Uh," Dean snaps to her, "hard pass," he raises a finger. He motions to the side, "barbeque and apple pie only, please."
Eileen shakes her head, "aye, aye, sheriff."
Dean then averts his attention to his nephew, who then looks down at him. He raises his hands up at Danny, wiggling his fingers, "come one, kid. You're invited to the big boy table."
Danny immediately stirs and leans toward his uncle, forcing Sam to bend down and grip him tightly as he moves to Dean's arms.
Dean graciously takes the four-year-old in his arms and coos at his man Dan. He snuggles into him, "darling, I have no idea how my brother helped make such a cutie baby."
Danny giggles as Dean blows a raspberry to his neck. When he pulls away, Danny places his soft hand on Dean's cheek, "uncle, we-" he inhales deeply, "we play with da animals."
Dean nods, "yep. We're gonna go play with the animals."
Danny squeals in excitement.
Sam cuts in, "later. It's snowing pretty hard out."
Dean turns to his brother, to his nephew, to his sister-in-law, who hands him back his plate. Dean gets it from her and walks off to his table, Sam follows suit.
"What some some pie, sweetheart?" Dean says as he sits with Danny on his lap.
Danny shakes his head though he begins to reach out for Dean's fork. Dean lets him take it as Sam pulls out a toy car from his pocket, "Danny."
Danny turns to his papa.
"Mustang?" Sam asks.
Danny calls, "Mufta!"
Dean gets the car from Sam and hands it to Danny before getting his fork and eating some food.
As Danny amuses himself by pushing the toy car back and forth on the table, his dad turns to his uncle, cocking his head to the side, "you really gonna let that slide?"
Dean chews, eyes flickering off knowingly to the bar, back to Sam, "I," he calls out, "like him."
Sam leans on his chair, crossing his arms, "you like him cos he helps with your car."
"I like him cos he helped us with the goat demon in the mountains and didn't bat a fucking eye."
Danny gasps, turning to his uncle, "bad word!"
Dean makes a guilty face as Danny shakes his head, "that's not good."
"Sorry, my man Dan."
Sam sniffles, rubbing his nose. He crosses his legs and bounces his foot, "well, the last guy helped us out too."
"Yeah, except I never liked or trusted him," Dean cuts, putting his fork down, "you did."
Danny makes a bubbly engine sound with his lips.
Sam and Dean stare at each other. The former clenches his jaw, "you saying I'm a bad judge of character?"
"I'm saying you got cynical," Dean adjusts Danny on his lap. He checks his nephew before looking out to his sister. He sighs, turning to his brother, "he's a man. I'm a man. I know what he's capable of," he explains, "and I'm my baby siblings' protector, so I get where you're coming from. Especially with her, okay. I get it."
Instinctively, Sam looks out and instantly spots Tommy and Maria, arms around each other as they talked. He turns back to Dean, "but you're gonna let her go with someone older than you because you see yourself in him."
Dean rolls his jaw, "I'm gonna let her go with who she wants because I want her to be happy."
Sam shakes his head.
"And," Dean grabs his fork and scoops up some pie, "if things goes sideways, you'll be the first to bark," he stuffs his face, licking his lips, "and I'll be the last to bite."
Sam and Dean stare at each other for a while.
"He's reluctant with his emotions," Sam sighs, "she isn't. I'm just worried it might blow up in her face."
Suddenly, Danny is being hauled of Dean's lap as Eileen comes over, looking at the brothers. She sighs, turning to her son, "how about we go to the big girl's table for a change?" She kisses her son's cheek.
At that moment, Dean spots her sister stand from the bar and walk out of the place, hand gripping Joel's belt and he dragged him out with him, "well fuck. I'm gonna be an uncle all over again."
Sam stiffens and looks over his shoulder.
Dean turns wide eyed at his food, "that's definitely something you can't unsee," he stuff his face again, "but hey, ya know, good for them. Took 'em long enough," his face falls at the thought though, suddenly cringing in mighty disgust, "yeah. I'm gonna be couch surfing at your place tonight."
Sam turns back to him, shaking his head in distaste.
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We didn't make it my bed when we got back home. To be honest, I thought it would be me that snapped first, but was Joel. Joel who was so impatient, Joel who was so viscous, Joel who was pent up though it was him fucking holding out for seemingly absolutely no reason.
He didn't even give me a chance to strip him naked and live my fantasies for real. He got me pressed up against the back of the damned couch, spine pressed against his chest as he clawed at my pants as if his life depended on it.
He bunched my top up and pushes me forward as he played with the pulse in between my thighs. He hisses where I whine. I let out a sound, "I fucking told you, old man," I grunt, "need you to fuck me over."
Joel growls and rubs two fingers into my wetness before plunging in, "don't fucking call me that."
My chuckle evaporates into a whiny moan as he shoves me forward and fucks his fingers into me.
My hands grip at the sofa as I try to lift my head up and even my breathing. I dart my tongue out to my teeth as the feel of his thick, calloused digits work into my tenderness. I pant, putting the remnant of my brain cells to good use, "should I call you daddy then?"
Joel hisses, pulling away from me.
I groan in protest at the loss of contact, but chew on my lip and turn around when I hear the sound of him undoing his belt. I feel my slick drip down my thigh as I watch in anticipation. I reach out to help him, but he swats my hand away and cranes his neck forward, "on your knees."
My jaw slacks but I waste no time and drop to my knees, eyes locked on his, then to his pants that were now being unzipped.
Joel shakes his head and grabs my shoulders, "all fours."
The sound I make is embarrassingly desperate and needy when he shoves me down, but I don't give a shit.
I prop myself on my hands and knees and feel my core flutter and weep in anticipation. I tug my lower lip, restless at the wait. I whine, panting heavily, "Joel, hurryyyyyy. I don't want to bruise my knees."
I feel him drop down behind me, "I'll fucking bruise your pussy, you brat."
My jaw drops. He shoves my dress up again. My stomach swirls. I never fucking pegged Joel Miller to have such a dirt-
I let out a loud and obscene sound when I feel him mount me. There was no warning, no calm before the storm, just pure, thrashing, needy, filthy fucking. I suck in a deep, strangled breath, as if I just came out of water at the feel of him ripping into me.
Joel rumbles like a hungry wolf as he flicks his hips. His ferocious presto made the sound of skin slapping echo in the empty house, muted out, of course, by my delirious wailing.
My knees skid and my arms dip as I struggle to hold myself up against his force, hip bones reveling in the strength of his grip and how his fingers were surely, stingingly, and deliciously bruising my flesh.
"Joel," I call out as my voice hikes up and down against his actions.
"That's sir to you, brat," he grunts, grabbing my hair, pulling my head back by it.
I exclaim at the pleasurable discomfort of his strength, feeling my belly begin to tighten and my core follow suit. I moan, "oh, fuck, yes, sir, yes sir, yesir, yezir, yeshr, yea, yu, yuh, hhh, hu, hu, hu-"
"You feel so good, baby girl," he grunts, "so wet, and soft against my hard dick."
I groan and squeal simultaneously, "yes, sir, thank- hu- thnksir-"
The sound of Joel's deep pants make me dig my nails into the hardwood floor. I feel myself reaching closer and closer so quickly to my peak.
I could feel my knees begin to chafe and bruise against the floor, but I really couldn't care less because of how good I felt everywhere else.
"Feel so good, baby," he sighs, one hand coming to my sensitive nub, stroking me there graciously until his fingers were covered in my arousal, "dripping so much. This for me?"
"Yes sir!" I whine, "for you, for you, for you-"
"Good girl."
I squeal at the praise, leaning my face down to the floor as I feel drool slip out of my open mouth as my cheek rubs into the wood."
Joel chuckles darkly, "you a good girl for me?"
"Yes sir. Yes please."
He hums "taking me so good," he grunts, "come around me then, pretty girl. Can you do that for me?"
"YES!" I growl, "yes, sir, please sir, so close, so-"
With the combined sensation of his rapid rocking and steady rubbing, it doesn't take much for me to rupture against him and crumble into wanton sounds. I feel my insides shatter into a million pieces, my lungs fall out of enough air, and my brain get fogged with only the thought of Joel Miller fucking me senseless.
He lets me ride it out. He makes sure I ride it out and fucks into me until I can't bare to keep myself up.
And then when that was over, when my wounded knees were begging for the same relief my aching body just had. Joel pulls out of me and I hear a squelch and a string airy curses.
As I catch my breath, I feel something hot splutter down my left thigh.
"Fuck," Joel sighs and grunts, "I... made a mess on you, darlin."
I whimper as I slide down flat on my stomach, "s'ok sir," I moan as I press my cheek on the floor, "wanna be a mess for you. Wanna be your good girl... wanna be yours... wanna be yours."
Joel doesn't respond even though his chest tightens at that admission. Its the fucking, he thinks. He made it clear that's all it was.
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"Did you check the back, Dean?"
"Of course I checked the back, Sam. What am I? Two?"
"Danny's smarter than you now, actually," Sam points.
Dean rolls his eyes, while I walk past them with a chuckle, "it's true. Also, I checked the back."
Sam turns to me, "ok, good."
"Bitch-" Dean starts, but is cut off by Sam, who flares at the sight of Joel following me into the truck.
"Woah," Sam says, raising his hand up, "what is he doing here?"
I give him a look, "he's your replacement, dummy. It's always been a three person job."
Joel turns to Sam as he grunts and climbs into the back. I catch Sam's expression and roll my eyes at him, "dude. Just be with your wife. She's been having really bad headaches and fatigue. She needs you more than we do."
Sam turns to me and snaps, "I know."
I shake my head, "I know you know."
I watch Joel as he finally gets in and sits in front of me. I hold in my laugh as I notice his red face and heavy breathing. I bite my lip and nod at him, "you good, grampa?"
Joel eyes me.
"Does he even know what's gonna go down?" Sam calls, leaning on the truck, ignoring Joel beside him, looking straight across at me.
I give him a look, "of course he knows what's gonna go down, or else he's gonna die."
Sam rolls his jaw and turns to Joel.
"Oh get over it, Samsquash," Dean pushes Sam away, "I'll catch a rabbit for Eileen. It's what she used to crave when she was pregnant with Danny." He places a bag in the front seat, "probably why that kid loves hopping around so much." When he doesn't get a response, he turns to Sam and purses his lips, "and it's not like we're doing an exorcism."
Sam huffs, rolls his eyes, and taps his foot, "but you might."
Dean gets into the front seat of the pickup truck, "nah. It'll be fine. Joel's a sharpshooter."
Sam shakes his head, "oh right. I totally forgot."
Dean eyes Sam, raising his brows, "do you wanna come?"
"No," Sam blurts, "I need to be with Eil-"
Dean slams the door shut and opens the engine. I wave at Sam as we drive away, grinning at his annoyed expression.
"That's pretty harsh," Joel mutters to me, hands on the side of the truck.
I turn to him and raise a brow, "oh, like you wouldn't do that to Tommy."
Joel purses his lips.
I chuckle.
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Dean laughs as he looks through his binoculars, "man."
Joel cocks his sniper beside him.
I squint as I look out to the distance.
"If you make that shot," my brother says, "I'll be the officiant of your wedding."
I snort at that.
Joel tenses, turns to Dean, then back to his scope.
I huff and grab the binoculars from my brother, who barely mutters out protest in lieu of keeping quiet. He does however say, "fucking rat," very angrily under his breath.
Joel sucks in a breath, "I got eyes on the target."
Dean gives me one last dirty look, then turns to him and nods, "okay, remember. No matter what happens, do not let its form deter you, alright? Shoot it dead. It will take form of someone you won't want to kill to save itself. Don't let it stop you."
Joel lets out a breath that condenses with the cold.
I spot the entity. In its form now, it was a shapeless dark nothing. I suck in a breath, "you can do it, Joel. You got this."
Joel readies himself to take the shot. It was mostly mental preparation because he knew what was gonna happen, who that thing was going to turn into if he doesn't kill it with the first bullet. He was warned over and over. He'd be a fool not to listen.
I bite my lips in anticipation.
Dean begins to get a little restless after a while, especially since he couldn't see that far off. He wants to urge Joel but he doesn't say anything. He's got time.
Then bang.
One shot.
But it wasn't enough.
There is a loud screech.
Joel quickly cocks his gun.
I watch as the entity morphs before my eyes. Joel sees it too. It's a little girl. It sees withers in pain and finally spots its attack. It spots Joel and reaches out to him, hands bloody, face scared and desperate.
Joel hesitates. His finger straining against the trigger, unable to pull it back.
"Joel," I mutter softly, pulling the binoculars away, giving it back to Dean, who eagerly looks out with it.
I lean close to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "it's not her, Joel. Listen to me, okay? It's not her."
Joel feels his hands shake.
Dean finally sees the target and stiffens, "she's right. That's no little girl, Joel," he explains calmly, though he did not like the fact the thing was inching towards them at a quick pace, "little girls don't have red eyes, Joel."
But Joel doesn't see the red eyes, he sees her. He sucks in a sharp breath then heaves slowly.
"Joel," I call slowly, "it's not her."
Dean gulps as the thing comes closer. He pulls the binoculars away and readies his own gun. Before he can cock it though, another bang rips through the air. This time, there was no more scream.
Joel pulls away from his gun away and breathes heavily.
I grab his arm and look at him, brushing his hair back, repeating over and over again, "it wasn't her. It wasn't her, Joel."
Joel turns to me as I take the firearm from him and place it down on the floor.
Dean pats Joel's shoulder but then motions with his head, "come on, you have to see it with your own eyes."
The three of then walk over to the fallen creature, its form no longer what it was, neither a black entity or a little girl, it was now a blob of corroded flesh.
Joel looks down at it with a tense face. I cling to his arm and pull him close. I feel him shiver against me. Dean throws some magazine papers on the carcass then sets it on fire.
We watch it burn then put out the flame once the smell of burnt flesh was gone. It was always a weird feeling to be comforted by the flames of a monster you killed.
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The front door opens.
"Hey El-machine, is your papa here?" I ask.
Ellie cringes as she lets me walk inside her house, "please don't bring your kinks into this."
I turn to her and give her a look, "what?! I'm not-"
"Joel's upstairs," she cuts me off.
I pull my head back at that, "is he sleeping in today too?"
Ellie shrugs, "IDK," she slings her backpack over her shoulder, "I'm heading off to school."
I dash over to her, messing her hair up before she gets out, "be good."
"I'll do my best," she retorts, smoothening out the mess I did on her head before putting on her beanie.
I dash up the stairs and knock on Joel's bedroom door, calling out his name. I don't get a response the first time, but I get a grunt the second time though, and take it as a cue to walk in.
It was clear from the get go that Joel was sick, judging by the layers upon layers of blankets on him. He normally didn't get too cold, or, well, at least not when I slept with him.
I walk over to his laid body and brush his hair back, hissing at the heat on his forehead.
"Fuck."
I turn back to get some medicine for him, but before I could run off, he grabs my hand and I gasp at its hotness.
I move close to him and bend down, clutching his burning hand with my cooler ones, "what is it, baby?"
Joel groans, eyelids struggling to open. He mutters softly, "stay wi' me."
I pout at his words, "I will. I promise. I just have to get medicin-"
"Done," he mutters. He sighs, "I did. Please... ... need to... hold..."
I frown. I nod at his words. I take off my shoes, crawl over him, and bring myself under the sheets. I huff at the heat Joel was radiating. I begin to think of the repercussions of cuddling someone with a fever, but I cast it away as I lean into Joel, allowing him to either pull me in or curl into me.
He chooses the latter, rolling over into my arms, his hot face nestling into my cool neck. I let him latch onto me and seal me in a tight hug. I wrap my arms around him and brush his hair back with my fingers.
I feel guilty about his state. It had been a few days since we took him to the woods, and he's been under the weather ever since.
"You need to get better, okay?" I mutter softly, "so that I can learn how to shoot from you and you won't ever have to do this again."
I feel him rub his cheek against me. I swear I hear him mutter 'let me do it' under his breath.
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"Ew," I groan as I push back the plate of eggs Joel made for me, "this is raw, Joel."
Joel looks over from the kitchen, giving me a look, "beggars can't be choosers, darlin'."
Ellie grimaces as she chews on her own mushy plate of eggs.
I catch her expression and ask, "is yours raw too?"
"No, its you to that makes me sick," she notes.
I shake my head and turn back to Joel, "it makes me want to puke." I feel disgust at even just the sight of the plate, "please recook it for me."
Joel huffs as he puts out the flame of the stove. He grabs the pan with a towel and brings it over to the table, placing it on a pot holder, "just eat some chicken."
I lean over to look at the meat, finding it charred and black in some places. I feel my stomach react in distaste, "yeah... thanks honey, but I think I'll have some apples instead."
Joel watches me as I stand and hand him my plate. He gets my eggs, turns to the pan then to Ellie, "it's not even that bad."
Ellie shrugs, poking a large piece for herself, "she's been having tummy problems. Must be from eating all your bad cooking, to be honest."
Joel huffs, turning over his shoulder, watching me grab some apples for myself. He walks over to me and watches as I wash it and take a bite.
"Is my cooking really that bad?" he asks.
I chuckle at him and shake my head, "no. My stomach has just been goofy, s'all."
Joel leans one hand on the counter. I chew on the fruit as I rub his belly, "you should hug me til I'm better."
Joel sighs as I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his torso.
"Yo, I'm literally eating over here!" Ellie calls out.
"Yeah, and I'm literally just hugging your dad," I bite on my apple and chew against Joel's chest, inhaling the scent of him, comforting and warm.
"Old people are so gross."
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I huff as I jog back to Joel, who was catching his breath. He was hunched over and exhausted after all the walking we did to follow the deer that ran off.
"You good, honey?" I ask.
He huffs, "m'fine."
"Hey, no shame in needing to take a moment."
Joel lifts his eyes and sees Sam and Dean, both steadily treading up the upward slope of this steep, frosty mountain. There is. There is shame in that
I help him straighten up and smile, "I don't know why you find this so hard, to be honest."
Joel eyes me dirtily as he and I begin to laugh and walk, arms linked together.
I giggle, "I'm just saying, we do a lot of cardio as it is. You should be as healthy as a horse."
He snorts through his nostrils, reaching out to push my hair back, "clearly not enough, baby girl."
❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄
Joel's entire body hurts. He feels it. It's loud and clear. He's not what he used to be before. It hurt after their hunt. It hurt after he did manual labor. It hurt. He was hurting.
He laid in bed alone tonight because his body hurting. His body hurt too much, too much for him to be of any help to the Winchesters. The three did the right choice leaving him. He'd've died if he tagged along. He'd have been dead weight.
Joel sighs, screwing his eyes shut.
He's old.
He's weak.
He no use. No good.
He thinks about Sam. Maybe this was why he was so irked by him. He knew Joel was about to give out. He's not good enough for his sister. He isn't. He knows it. I mean... he was clear about what he could give anyway. He was clear about it, but lately, he's been letting himself dream. He's been letting himself think.
But he feels it clearly now. He remembers why he kept his distance, why he was so reluctant in the first place despite himself, despite how much he actually wanted to dream. And yet again, despite himself he went for it, despite the sense in his brain that told him not to, he let himself laugh, he let himself feel, he let himself break open, even just a tiny bit.
Joel rolls on the bed and feels like his back was being pulled in the most horrible way possible.
Fuck.
This... This wasn't... He wasn't the sight someone should come home to.
Joel sighs.
He knows what he has to do...
... before it's too late.
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"What?" my lips quiver, "what do you mean, Joel?"
Joel licks his lips as he places his hands on his hips. "I'm saying... we had a good run. I think it's better we end things because I can't keep up with you anymore."
"Keep up?" I shake my head.
He sighs, "darling, look at me. I'm not exactly the picture of youth."
I knit my brows tightly and shake my head, "Joel, you're not seriously saying we stop seeing each other because you caught yourself with a few more wrinkles?"
"It's not the wrinkles," he snaps, "it's everything. The stamina, the interests. You deserve someone who can be there to help you and your brothers, and someone who's interested in you."
"Wait," I shake my head, "you're telling me you're not interested in me?"
Joel clenches his jaw.
I scoff.
He mutters, "s'what it is."
"You lying rat," I grunt, nostrils flaring, "you listened to me rant about Pluto and my high school clubs. You don't do that when you're uninterested."
He shakes his head, "I told you that time at the bar, I could only give you half of what you wanted from me and you said that was fine."
I scoff at his words, "so, what? Everything since then was an act so you could keep fucking me?"
Joel does not respond.
I feel my eyes glass, "why would you agree to help me and my brothers then? Don't fucking tell me you let yourself have nightmares just to get into my pants!"
Nothing.
I groan and grab at his collar, "you confided in me. You told me she was your daughter!" I feel myself shake in my anger and frustration, "she was the one you saw in the woods. You told me you dreamt about her! You broke down to me about her!" I hiss, eyes welling with tears, "don't fucking lie to me, Joel."
"I can't--" he quips, "-do it anymore."
I feel my tears roll down my cheeks.
"I can't be with you," he huffs, "I don't want to be with you."
I feel like I'm shot when I hear him say that. I release him and step back, breathe catching in my throat as I tried to calm myself and prevent tears from falling.
Joel's expression begins to harden, "being with you..." he goes quiet before he continues. His voice breaks when he admits, "is exhausting."
A stake to the heart. A bullet to the brain. A slap on the face.
I cannot help but crumble before him. My heart clenches. My lips begin to quiver.
I shake my head, "I can... I can change."
Joel's face twitches.
"I can... I can be what you want... please, Joel, I-"
He steps back when I try to reach out for him again, without the hostility. Joel knit his brows, "you can't change. Not for me."
He doesn't even give me a chance to speak again as he just leaves me and walks away.
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"Baby," Eileen gathers my hair and rubs my back.
I groan as I pull away from the toilet I was hunched over.
"S'auntie okay?" Danny, who was peeping through the open bathroom door, mutters. Eileen pulls away from me as I flush the toilet and wash my mouth and hands on the sink.
Danny is picked up by his mom and is kissed on the cheek, "auntie is just a little sick because her tummy didn't like the pancakes."
Danny clutches Eileen's face, "pancake's not yummy for auntie?"
"No, Dan," I huff and turn to Danny, "I liked the pancakes we made but-"
I can't continue because of the look Eileen gives me. I look at her and her solemn expression. I feel my eyes begin to water. I release a breath and yet still get betrayed by my voice, "my- my tummy's just... been a bit upset lately."
Danny looks at me and pouts, "papa rubs my belly and mama makes me soup when I - when my tummy hurts. Maybe you need'a poop auntie."
I rub my eyes and walk over to Danny, brushing his hair back, "thank you, sweetie pie," I pout and sigh, "but I don't have to poop. At least not right now."
Danny reaches out to me, making grabby hands. I let out a breath and take my nephew into my arms. He seals me into a tight embrace and strokes my hair, "it's ok, auntie. I go rub your belly for you."
I sniffle against the child's tiny shoulder. He begins to wrangle out of my hold and I put him down in front of me.
Eileen comes up to my side and grabs my arm as her son steps in front of me and raises both of his hands to my belly, making shushing noises, "there, there. Shhh. It's gonna be okay. It will pass."
Fuck. I bring my face into my hands, unable to hold back the tears that are ripping out of my eyes. Danny sounded so much like Sam. Eileen brings me into a side hug, clutching Danny's head as she did, "baby girl..."
What if... What if Joel... and mine acts like him... and-
Danny embraces my and his mom's legs, leaning his cheek against my thigh, "it's ok auntie. You can cry if it hurts."
I bite my lip and hold in my sobs, feeling my chest begin to cave in and my nose begin to clog. I turn to Eileen, finding that she too was now crying.
"Oh, gosh, I-"
"It's okay," she shakes her head, pulling me close to her, "we'll get through this. It will pass. No matter what. You have me, Danny, Sam, and Dean."
I hold back my miserable whines, reaching out for her belly that was barely beginning to show. My eyes were fogged by tears as I mutter softly, "I'm sorry that this is happening to me when you-"
"Shut up," she quips, "there's nothing to be sorry for," Eileen eagerly disagrees, "in fact, it's exciting to know at the end of it there'll be two babies. They'll be best friends, baby. The best."
"Wait-" a voice cuts, "you're pregnant?"
Eileen and I turn back.
Sam behind us is wide eyed and wholly shocked.
My breath leaves me. Eileen walks up to my brother, grabbing his arm, "Sam."
Sam looks out to me with wide eyes.
"Daddy, auntie's tummy is upset," Danny says, walking over to his dad, "I rubbed it so that it gets better."
Sam ignores his son as he looks at me, awaiting my response.
I shake my head and shrug, "I... I don't know... but I think-" I choke on my tears.
Sam grunts, jaw tightening. He quips, "what did he say?"
I shake my head and shrug again.
"No," he raises a finger, "what does that mean?"
"It means... we haven't been talking for a while before I even found out, Sam."
Sam lets out a deep breath. Eileen mutters something to him.
"I'll fucking kill him," he mutters.
Danny gasps, "daddy bad! You said a bad word!"
Sam turns down, sighing, "fuck- shit- sorry- I- Sorry, Danny-"
"DADDY!"
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Dean huffs as he sits down on the table. He looks across at Ellie, who watches him as he places his hands on the table, "anything?"
She shrugs, "I'm just convinced he's fucking stupid."
He sighs, shaking his head as he looks out the window, "damn fucking straight."
Ellie leans forward, "maybe we should just lock them in a room together, force them to make up."
Dean turns to her, "absolutely not. I'm not locking my sister up with a man too spineless to face the truth about his feelings," he crosses his arms, "plus. She's been staying at Sam & Eileen's. I think she thinks I haven't caught on and that I'd still invite your old man over to fix Baby."
Ellie groans, bringing her face down to the table, knocking on it with her forehead repeatedly, "why did they even break up? They were so lovey-dovey and gross, and now they just... fucking stopped." She groans and pulls at her hair, "they're both fucking miserable too. I don't fucking get it."
Dean makes a face, "lay off the curses, kid."
"You lay off the fucking curses," she snaps, turning to him.
Dean shakes his head and rolls his eyes. He sighs and looks out the window again, watching a bunch of people outside walk by, "I know my sister. She would never have been the one to break things off. And from what I gather from Joel," he turns back to Ellie, voice getting smaller, "he must have pulled some self-righteous shit about being too fucking broken for her or something."
Ellie watches Dean look out the window again. She shifts in her seat, pursing her lips in thought, "yeah... sounds like something he would do."
Dean scoffs, leaning into his elbows, brows knitting tightly, "kick some sense into him, Ellie."
Ellie was about to agree, but then she stopped herself and said, "can't you do?"
Dean pulls his head back.
"You seem to be... speaking from experience."
Dean's lips curve into a smile. He lets out an airy chuckle, "don't make this about me," he stands and moves away from his seat, "and if I talk to him, I'm going to want to leave a few marks for making my sister cry."
Ellie straightens, "has she been crying a lot?"
Dean raises a brow, "probably not as much as Joel."
❄❄❄❄🦆❄❄❄❄
I freeze when I hear someone call out my name. I wrap my arms around myself and walk faster.
She calls out to me again. I hear her run towards me. Half of my brain urges me to run too. And I want to, but I don't. I let Ellie catch up with me as I rush away from her house.
"Stop!" she calls, grabbing onto my arm, running up in front of me, "please," she sighs, "don't go! Come inside, talk to-"
"I can't-" I shake my head, "I- I..." I feel my eyes water, "I can't Ellie."
Ellie shakes her head, "why not? You know you want to. You both want to. Joel has-"
"You can't tell him I've been coming here," I quip quickly.
She knits her brows and purses her lips, "you've been coming here?"
I shudder at my slip. I shake my head and cover my face, pushing past her.
Ellie calls out my name and holds me back. I power against her but she persists. It causes us to topple over on the snowy ground.
I grunt as try to dodge Ellie as I fall back onto her. I bring my hand out as I fall to my side. I let out a breath as I roll over then turn to Ellie, "are you okay?"
Ellie quickly sits up and grabs onto me, "don't run away please. Please. I miss you."
My voice cracks, "Ellie-"
"I'll help you talk to him if you need me. Please. Give him another sh-"
"He doesn't want me Ellie," I cut her off.
"What?"
"He doesn't want me."
Ellie makes a face, "that's not true."
"He doesn't want me," I repeat, "he told me that himself."
She scowls, helping me get up, "he's a fucking liar."
"I didn't go here to-" I say as I get to my feet. "I didn't..." I even my breathing, I didn't come here to work things out with him."
Ellie knits her brows as she clings onto my top, afraid I would run away again.
My eyes begin to water. I choke out a sob, "I'm pregnant."
Ellie's eyes widen. Her jaw slacks. Her face falls.
I chuckle dryly as I cup her reddened cheeks, "you're... gonna be a sister."
Ellie looks at me, completely still and silent.
I let out a shaky breath, "he didn't want me before I found out, Ellie. He sure as hell won't want me now."
Ellie blinks heavily then rapidly, "no! I can-"
"You can't tell him," I huff, shaking my head, "it has-" huff, "-it has to be me," I rub her face with my thumbs, "you understand?"
She releases a breath and nods. He places her hands on my wrists then steps closer, "I understand."
I offer her a soft smile and pull away.
She grabs my hands, "... let me help you, okay? ... please?"
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I am sitting on the floor, leaning against the door with my legs curled up. There is a chair to my side, jammed up by the knob so that it couldn't be opened from the inside.
I panic when I feel an attempt at opening the door. I jolt and turn to the knob as it shimmies violently.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
"ELLIE!" shaking, "THE DOOR IS JAMMED."
More bangs on the door.
I clear my throat, swallowing the lump at the back of my mouth. I suck in a breath and stand, clutching my hands together as I gather the strength to speak.
"ELLIE!"
"Joel."
It goes silent. The banging and the shimmying ceases.
I feel like I need to puke.
My head begins to spin. I move to the stairs and look down at Ellie, stood at the bottom. I want to run away. I dont when I see her shaking her hands as she mouths, "it's okay."
The door begins to get shaken again.
"It's me, Joel," I call out impulsively, speaking my name, as though I was reluctant it was mine. The noise stops again.
I walk back to the door and lick my lips, "I... I need to tell you something."
"So you locked me in?" Joel speaks from inside his bedroom. He doesn't sound mad when he says it, but the sigh at the end of his disappointed sounding words make me feel like I'm insane.
"I can't-" I choke, "can't look at you. If I do, I won't be able to say it."
He doesn't respond.
I sniffle as I feel my tears begin to rush down my face, "but I have to tell you this. I have to-" I gulp, "I have to just say it."
Still, I get no response.
I let out a breath and clench my fists. Quick and clean, quick and clean, come on, you can do this. I blurt, "I'm pregnant."
Then I stand there. I stand there and stare at the blocked door.
Nothing though. I get nothing in response.
I begin to think maybe I spoke too softly. I internally curse and suck in a deep breath, "I said I'm pr-"
"I heard you the first time."
I clench my jaw.
"Asshole," I hear Ellie grunt faintly. I turn over my shoulder and I see her eyeing the door from her spot in the stairs dirtily.
I lick my lips, thinking of what to say next. I don't. I don't know what else to say.
"How... ... are you sure?"
I feel like I've just been spat on. I scoff as I turn back to the door. I wipe my nose, "I'm not, actually," I chew at my lower lip, "I've never been regular, so I... I my symptoms could just really be me being miserable over.... over..." I don't finish my train of thoughts.
"You still can't eat well?"
I chuckle bitterly, "no."
I hear him curse under his breath.
Dread begins to eat me up.
"I'm sorry, Joel. I know you-- I know how you feel. And I don't expect anything from you cause I know... how you feel," I lick my lips, "and maybe I'm wrong. Maybe," I clutch my stomach, "things will still change.
"You wanna know why Sam's really hard on you? Well, last time I liked someone this much, he was really excited for me. He was really excited. But then he turned out to be a jerk, and... he got me pregnant too," I sniffle, "and I didn't know then either," I let out a breath, "I didn't know until my brothers woke me up after I bled so much in my sleep and... and... I thought I was on my period... but it was too much blood and... and..." I shut myself up and bite my lip until I tasted iron.
I hear Ellie call out my name. I turn to her, finding she was already standing beside me, and chuckle through tears as she moves in to give me a hug.
I press my lips into a thin line as I embrace her and attempt to calm myself, "and... maybe that'll happen again."
Ellie calls out my name when I say this.
I chuckle bitterly yet again, "or... Or you know, maybe I really just don't like the food I've been eating."
He calls out my name.
It makes me pull away from Ellie and feel the need to flee.
And this time I do. I give Ellie a smile and silently get out of the house as fast as I can.
When the door finally does open, Joel is caught off guard by Ellie's attacks. She punches and shoves Joel back up until he is able to grab her arms and prevent her from charging. She hisses angrily as she thrashes out of Joel's grip, "WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING, YOU COWARD? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL HER YOU'RE A PATHETIC YELLOWBELLY? WHY DIDN'T YOU SAY ANYTHING?!"
Ellie fumes and only stills when she see's Joel's distraught expression. His face was hard, his eyes were glazed, his breath was shallow. He looked miserable. Good.
Ellie almost feels bad for him, but she doesn't, "go after her, you idiot. Tell her how you really feel before you make things worse."
"I can't-"
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T!" Ellie snaps, "SHE TOLD ME COULDN'T EITHER BUT SHE CAME HERE AND TALKED TO YOU ANYWAY."
"I-" Joel releases her, "I don't deserve..."
Ellie watches Joel as his knees buckle and as he falls to the floor. He sinks his face in his hands and roughly rubs his eyes on his calloused palms. He chokes on a sob.
Ellie scoffs, "deserve? You know what you deserve? You deserve to suffer for being stupid, but she-" she points, "she doesn't deserve to believe that you don't want her when you clearly do."
"Ellie, I-" Joel looks up at the girl, "I... don't know how to do this anymore."
"Well, you can start by apologizing! By being there for her," she quips, "now go," she kicks him, "get out of here and don't you dare come back until you've made amends."
Joel looks at the child.
"GO!"
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Dean snarls when he sees Joel's pathetic expression. He clenches his jaw and looks down on him, "she's not here."
Joel shoves his boot between the door before Dean can close it shut.
"Please," he says rather desperately, "just a few moments s'all I need."
Dean flares, ripping the door open. He grabs Joel by the collar and begins shoving him back, "did she fucking tell you?"
Joel moves back as he is charged by the larger, leaner, and younger furious man, unable to do much else against his strength, not really having much fight in him to be honest.
"Answer me!" Dean barks.
"She told me," Joel mutters.
"And what exactly did she tell you?!"
"That she's pregnant."
Dean sucks in a breath and shoves Joel back. He nearly falls on his ass, but manages to stay up.
Joel watches the man wipe his face and kick snow around.
"She thinks I don't know," Dean points, "but I caught her. I caught her when you two had a fall out. And I caught her puking her guts out while she cried over you."
Joel shudders, breath condensing in front of him.
"It took her telling you this to get you to man up and face yourself," Dean paces around and clenches his fist, "you disgust me-" he huffs through his nostrils, steam coming out, "her kid doesn't deserve a pathetic shell of a man as a father," he licks his lip, "don't you agree?"
Joel feels that come at him like a kick to the teeth, a punch in the gut. He is rendered still and silent. A million different things run through his head. Not long after, he is actually does get punched in the gut.
Dean tackles him to the ground, pressing his hands on Joel's throat. His eyes are wild and his grip is deadly, "you're not even going to spew some bullshit to pacify me, you absolute dipshit?!"
Joel grips Dean's wrists as the Winchester chokes the life out of him. In his rage and offence of the fact he wasn't even being fought back, Dean pulls away from him and begins bashing his face in. He gets to beat him twice before he's being pried off.
"WHAT THE FUCK, DEAN!" I scream as Sam rips him away while he wrangles out of his clutch.
"LET ME GO, SAM!" Dean shouts.
Sam locks his arms around Dean's flailing ones as he mutters, "COOL IT, DEAN!"
I drop down next to Joel as I help him sit up.
I hear Joel's pained mewls. I hear his soft voice mutter through it, "I'm sorry."
I whine as I look at his battered face as I help him get up, "Joel-"
"LET ME GO, YOU IDJIT!" Dean shouts even louder.
Sam manages to over power him and shouts, "GET HIM INSIDE, NOW."
"LIKE FUCKING HELL- GET AWAY FROM HIM- DON'T YOU DARE-"
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"I'm sorry about Dean," I mutter as I place a ice pack on Joel's face.
I sit down next to him on the couch as he takes the pack from me. Joel makes a sound before he says, "don't be."
"He could have killed you," I snap, shaking my head, "he was close. You're lucky Sam came with me here to get some pillows."
Joel looks at me for a long moment, saying absolutely nothing. I turn away from him when he calls my name. I look my my laps and clench my hands.
"Look," I huff, "I know you're here because you're shaken by what I told you earlier. But it's okay-"
"It's not okay," Joel straightens up, pulling the pack away, placing it on the couch.
"No, Joel," I turn back to him, "you were right. It was unfair of me to expect more from you when you told me from the start you could only give me so much."
He says my name again and I can't stand it. I get off the cushion and look down at him. I regret it when I see the looks of his battered face and his damp cheeks. I suck in a breath, "if..." I say carefully, "I manage to take this pregnancy to full term, you'll always have a part in our baby's life. -"
Our baby's life.
"- Always. But please don't come to me telling me shit you don't mean because you feel like you have to now, Joel."
"I lied to you," he blurts.
I gulp a lump in my throat.
He grabs my hand, "when I said I didn't want you... I meant I didn't want you because I was scared."
"Scared of what?" I pull my hand away.
"Of slipping. I was slipping-- I am," he mutters, "you said it yourself, I'm an old man."
"Joel, be for"
"No, I'm not what I used to be."
I purse my lips.
"I'm not what I used to be," he repeats as he stands, placing his hands on my shoulders. He shakes his head and brings his hands up my body. They're shaky when they land on my face.
Joel's tears continue to wet his face, "if you only knew, honey... gosh, if you only knew," he wipes my own wet cheeks, "I'd lock you in my room and never let you out. I'd cuff you to my bed and never let you leave."
I knit my brows deeply at his words.
"I'd build you a house," he mutters like a secret. He pushes my hair back, "two floors, front yard with a garden, backyard with a pool, picket fence, pine tree."
I pull my head back. My face contorts.
"I'd've been the one to help you climb that mountain, you know, thrown you over my shoulder, egg you on for getting tired so quickly," he sniffles, "used to be like that."
"Joel..."
"And i used to carry her in my arms," he cuts, "...Sarah."
My breath hitches. I place my hands on his.
"I used to throw her in the air and spin her around," Joel sighs, "build her a tree house, build her a playground, then play with her. Just thinking about it now leaves me winded."
I shake my head, stepping towards him, "you don't have to do any of that. You don't need to. I didn't expect you to."
"No," he disagrees, "that's what you should expect," he blurts, "that's what I would have given you... that's what I would've-- what you should get."
I push his hands off me and sigh. I grab the ice pack that he left on the couch and put it on the side of his bruised face.
Joel watches me as I do this and presses his hands on mine before I pull away. "I'm sorry."
I still.
"I'm sorry it ended up this way. I'm sorry I hurt you first before I told you the truth. I thought it would be easier that way."
I chew on my lip and shake my head. I sigh and speak softly, "can you hold me, Joel?"
Joel doesn't hesitate. Hpulls me in. He pulls me into his arms.
And I missed him. I missed him so bad. Being in his arms made me realize I missed him even after he ripped my heart out. I miss him still. I want him so bad.
But my heart was still bleeding; it was still broken, so I only stayed for so long before pushing him away.
Joel watches me. He licks his lips.
I smile at him, "thank you for telling me the truth, Joel," I step away from him, "you shouldn't stay here long though. You should go out back and try not to show yourself to my brothers."
I motion my head to the side as I lead the way. Joel looks at me for a prolonged moment before following. I turn away from him and even my breath, unwilling to cry any further, not in front of him. I rub my arms as I stand in front of the door, thinking of something to say. When I do think of something, I open the door, "I can't take you back."
Joel stops.
I turn to him, eyes watering all over again, "at least... not now. Not so quickly."
He pulls the pack away from his face and opens his mouth. He says nothing for a moment, then he sighs, "I understand."
I step towards him and place the ice pack back on his face. I pull away, rub my eyes and ten step back, turning to the door, waiting fo him to pass.
Joel turns to his feet before walking out.
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