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#dean x reader x benny
apocalypseornaw · 6 months
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Maybe
Could've Been
Chance to Be
Resurrect 1 2 3 4
Remember Me
Only for You
Should've Known 1 2 3
Soulmate AU
Benny x Reader x Dean
Make a Bet
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zepskies · 5 months
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Smoke Eater - Part 11
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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
Word Count: 5,400 Tags/Warnings: Major angst warning. But also major hurt/comfort.
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Part 11: “Heart of the Home”
You sat very still.
Your hands were gripped together in your lap when the doctor entered. He was tall and lean and blonde, and he would’ve reminded you of your boss, except this man had a kinder face.
You were sitting on the edge of your grandfather’s bed, hoping the doctor would say the bloodwork and scans came back fine. That they wouldn’t need to admit George into the hospital for further testing. That he could go home in the morning.
But your life had never been quite that easy.
“Okay, George. I’m sorry, but we need to admit you,” said the doctor.
He explained that while the malignant tumor of his cancer had been removed last year, the scans that had been done last month hadn’t been able to detect the bright spots now formed on George’s lungs and lymph nodes.
The oncologist would have to confirm, but you all knew where this was headed. Likely those “bright spots” were tumors.
George nodded slowly at first, taking it all in. He asked what his options were, as far as treatment.
“Your oncologist will go over those options with you,” the doctor replied. “We’re going to move you up to Oncology shortly.”
George thanked him.
And you sat very still. 
A hand fell on your arm, finally earning your gaze. George’s face was oddly calm, though the worry in his eyes was for you. You realized that he’d gently called your name, though you hadn’t heard him. Your ears were ringing.
His mouth parted to tell you something, but nothing came out. So instead, he tugged you into his arms, and he heaved a long sigh.
“I guess we’re here again,” he admitted. He let out a chuckle. “The Lord does like his tests…but maybe that car accident was a blessing in disguise, huh?”
You heard his voice, but your mind was buzzing—mainly with the doctor’s words, and with a bone-deep feeling that threatened to consume you.
Your car, your fault. Options, again. Here again.
Your fault.
When you didn’t answer, George pulled away a bit to give you a questioning look.
“Sweetheart?” he tried. You laid a hand on his arm.
“You still haven’t eaten dinner, have you?” you asked. Neither had you, for that matter. “I’ll get us something that isn’t rubbery turkey.”
George blinked at you, confused, with a growing edge of worry.
“Isn’t Dean getting your meds? Why don’t you wait for him to—”
“I’m fine,” you said, already getting up to grab your purse. “I’ll be back.”
George called your name again, but the ringing in your ears was now pulsing in time with your heartbeat.
You made your way down the hall to the lobby at a brusque clip, even with your neck brace on. You didn’t see Dean, but he certainly saw you as he was walking back into the hospital. Frowning, he followed and called out to you.
You slowed when you saw him, and he soon caught up with you. He rested a hand on your back.
“Hey, where you goin’?" he asked.
“We haven’t eaten in a while. I’m going to the cafeteria,” you said. Though you seemed distracted, your eyes meeting his only briefly. It triggered a small spidey sense running up Dean’s spine.
He gave you your prescription pain medication, which you took with a small “thank you.”
“Everything okay?” he asked. “How’s George doing?”
“Fine. He’s resting,” you said. And by the look of you, that seemed to be true. But he spotted the tremble in your hands when you took the pill bottle package from him. It made him stop you when you tried to keep walking down to the cafeteria.
“Okay, you wanna run that by me again?” Dean asked.
You frowned, and your brows knit together. “What?”
“Is there something going on?” he pressed.
You sighed, but you didn’t answer him. You looked exhausted, and like you’d rather swallow your own tongue than speak. You shook your head and laid a hand on his wrist.
“I’m fine. Dean, thank you for everything you did tonight, but you still have to work tomorrow. Go home, get some rest,” you said.
You turned from him again. That was your first mistake. He reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he said.
“What?” you said in irritation. Your second mistake was not being able to look at him.
Dean was frowning in earnest now. Worry clawed in his gut, which was also telling him not to let you walk away from him. His grip shifted to hold both of your arms and move directly in front of you. He dipped his chin, trying to get you to meet his eyes.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he said gently. “I need you to talk to me.”
You inhaled a shuddering breath. A wave was rising inside you, threatening to pull you into its undertow. Your eyes burned, red and shining. Dean finally saw it when you raised your head, what little you could. Your mouth began to quiver, looking into his eyes. And it was done.
You could no longer be still.
Dean held you when you fell apart in the hallway.
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Dean called out of work the next day to stay with you and George. Gordon would be acting Lieutenant until his next shift, and Dean was sure the man would take full enjoyment out of it.
He couldn’t care about that right now though. He felt that his place was here, being your quiet wall of support while you and George and the oncologist talked about treatment options.
“Normally, at the stage we’re in, I would be recommending chemotherapy,” said Dr. Benton.
“Normally?” you echoed.
“At the rate this is progressing, the treatment would have to be aggressive,” he said. His gaze focused on George. “However, at your age, and the current state of your overall health…at this point, I don’t think the rigors of treatment would be worth diminishing your quality of life.”
“What are you saying?” you asked. Your voice cut like a whip, earning the other men’s gazes.
George was the first one to lay a hand on your arm. “You know what it means, honey…he’s saying it ain’t worth it.”
“Of course, it’s worth it,” you retorted. With your brows furrowed and lips pursed, your eyes went from him to the doctor. “Just because he’s older, we shouldn’t even try? Is that what you’re saying, doctor?”
At that, even Dean drew closer to lay a hand on your back. Meanwhile, George squeezed your arm.
Benton shook his head gravely. “That’s certainly not what I’m saying.”
“How much time would I get, if I started treatment,” George asked, before you could volley further with the doctor.
Benton met the other man’s gaze.
“I’m going to be honest with you, George. You may get a few more weeks, or even a few months. But that is a best-case scenario.”
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Dean drove you all home that day, after George decided to formally waive treatment. Both men knew you were angry in your silence, but neither one wanted to press you. Dean was too wary, and George was too tired.
Once he was settled in bed, you hadn’t even left his room yet before you grabbed a notepad off his desk and wandered into the hall. You started to make a list of things you still needed from the grocery store, among other things. Dean took that piece of paper out of your hands.
“Good. I’ll handle this,” he said. “Meanwhile, you can get upstairs, take a shower, take your meds, and get some sleep.” 
You frowned at him. “You haven’t slept either, Dean.”
“I’m used to it,” he said, giving you a wink and a slight smile. Overnight shifts could be a bitch at a firehouse, but Dean was no stranger to having his sleep interrupted.
“Listen to him, honey. He’s speaking sense,” George called from inside his room. The bedroom door was still open. He was settling into his bed while trying to stifle a cough. He sipped at a cup of water you’d brought for him.
Still, you looked reluctant. Dean held your arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Come on,” he said. “You were in an accident yesterday. You’ve had one hell of a night. You need your rest, or you’ll be no good to anyone.”
And if you pushed yourself much more, he worried that he’d have to take you right back to the hospital. Dean would rather not have that scare so close to the last one.
He brushed your cheek with gentle fingers. With the limited mobility your neck brace provided, you did your best to look up at him. Your eyes were softer.
“Okay,” you breathed.
“Okay? All right, good,” Dean said. You held onto his jacket for a moment, leaning against him.
“Thank you,” you whispered. You felt the burn of tears behind your closed eyelids. A few of them squeezed past and slipped down your cheeks. Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.
“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”
“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”
“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”
Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.
“That you do, Lieutenant.”
You left for your room soon after, but not before you brought him down to you for one more tearful kiss.
Dean then watched you climb up the stairs to your room and nearly went up to help you, but he heard George call his name. Dean ventured back into George’s room and heeded his beckoning hand.
“You hungry? I can scramble some eggs or something before I hit the store. I think I saw two more left in the carton,” Dean said. George shook his head.
“Come ‘ere a sec.”
Dean took the hint and sat on the edge of the bed.
“I just wanna thank you for everything you did yesterday. Everything you’re still doing for us,” George said. He looked exhausted, but whatever he wanted to say was important enough to fight off sleep. He clasped a hand on Dean’s arm.
“You don’t have to,” Dean replied.
George huffed. A smile made his eyes gleam brighter.
“I knew you were a special one, Dean Winchester. Knew it the night I met ya, on your very first date with her.”
Dean blinked, but his pause drifted into a reserved smile.
“How’s that?” he asked.
“Well, I’ll be honest. When I heard that black Chevy rumble like hell’s wheels onto the driveway, I thought I might have to worry about you,” George chuckled.
Dean’s lips quirked.
“But no, it wasn’t that. It wasn’t the pretty flowers, or our mutual love of killer sharks,” George quipped, making Dean’s smile more genuine. “It isn’t your job either, or the fact that you saved her. I just believe that you can see a man’s mettle in his eyes…and I saw it in you when I shook your hand that night.”
Dean took that in for a moment. His hand flexed over his knee. Then he met George’s gaze, though he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes though, honestly was the best bet.
“I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” he said at last. “I can’t imagine…”
George let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll tell you a secret.”
He pointed to a picture frame on his bedside. It was of him and his wife, Sophie, when they were around your age and Dean’s. The couple were sitting on a pier that hung over the edge of the lake in their hometown.
She held him from behind, with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her long hair was being carried by the wind, getting swept into George’s eyes. He was smiling too hard to care.
“I’m ready to smile like that again,” he said. He had tears in his eyes, but he was already lighter at the thought. “I know it’s selfish…but I think I’ve missed her long enough.”
Dean paused. Then he cleared his throat past a small well of something he couldn’t name. He wondered if his dad ever had thoughts like that.
“Well, I’ll let you get your rest,” he said. “I’ll be back.”
George nodded and gave Dean’s arm a squeeze. “All right. Drive safe. Don’t hit any goddamn trees.”
He shot Dean a knowing wink, and it almost had the younger man laughing. George’s sense of humor was something else.
Dean then left George to rest. He made sure he had his wallet, keys, and your grocery list before he left your house and went back to the car. He checked his phone and saw a missed call…from Cas.
Dean was reminded again about Azazel, the kingpin who might’ve ordered a hit on his family. Along with the recent murders and arsons, and the connection from one of the victims to your company, Savage & Co.
Dean returned the call as he climbed into the Impala.
“Dean. Everything all right?” Cas asked. “Sam filled me in about the accident.”
“Yeah, everyone’s okay…well, not really. I’ll explain later,” Dean replied. “Listen, about what we talked about at the bar.”
“Yes.” Cas said gravely. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go to your father about this yet.”
“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Dean sighed. “My girl just got some real bad news. I know you gotta keep digging into Savage & Co., but can you keep her out of it?”
“Is she all right?”
“Yeah, more or less…it’s her grandfather.”
“Ah, I see,” Cas said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks, man. I’d rather her just focus on what she needs to do right now, you know?”
“I get it. And believe me, we’re keeping the investigation of Nick Savage quiet for now,” Cas said. “But if we find something, or worse, if I can’t…I’ll likely need to question her. She works directly with Savage, and from what I can tell, she’s instrumental in bringing in and maintaining several of his major accounts.”
Dean stopped at a red light and took a moment to rub a hand over his tired face, rubbing his eyes. “You don’t really think she’s got any idea of what that asshole’s into.”
“I’m not saying she does. But in working so closely with him, perhaps she’s noticed things about her boss, and the company. Things she’s kept to herself, out of self-preservation.”
Dean frowned. He didn’t want to think about shit like that. It made his stomach churn at the thought of you working for someone who might be doing business with a crime lord, let alone Azazel.
“Well, when that day comes, give me a heads up, okay?”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Cas.”
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Dean offered to take another day off to help you, but you wouldn’t let him. He needed to go back to work, and you were able to arrange working from home for the next few weeks.
Even Nick couldn’t refuse to accommodate you in a situation like this. He knew very well that if he pushed you too hard, you’d go directly to HR.
So he backed off, and told you to take as much time at home as you needed. It allowed you to put him, and that afternoon in his office, away from your mind to focus on taking care of your grandfather.
Though you called your best friend the day you got home from the hospital, Andréa didn’t come by your house to see you and George until the end of the week. She cited mounting projects at work and some kind of tiff with her cousin Meg, but it all sounded like excuses to you.
However, she was gracious enough to bring dinner for the three of you on a Friday night. She cut up with George like normal, and even got him laughing, until a coughing fit forced him to stop. It also took most of the joy out of the rest of the evening.
While George went up to his room to rest, Andréa later joined you in the kitchen. You were washing the dishes, trying to focus on what you were doing. But your mind was buzzing continuously with future tasks and worries. Always, tasks and worries.
“How are you holding up?” Andréa asked. She rubbed your back, and you gave her a slight smile.
“All I can do is make him comfortable, for as long as possible,” you replied. There were tears in your friend’s eyes, but she dabbed them away with the back of her hand.
“What do you need? Anything, you just tell me,” she said.
It was a little easier for you to contemplate leaning on Andréa. You had been friends with her for years, and she was like another daughter to George.
On the other hand, asking Dean for help always made you hesitate. What you two had was still so new. You worried that this was too much for your relationship, too fast. 
“Well,” you sighed as you wiped your hands dry on a kitchen towel. You didn’t exactly want to talk about it, but there were things you had to start planning, even if you didn’t know the exact timeframe.
However, as soon as you opened your mouth to reply, Andréa’s cell phone rang. She held up a finger to you and checked it. To your surprise, she actually answered it.
“Hey, babe,” she replied with a smile. You heard Benny’s deep voice on the line, asking a question. “Yeah, I’m still here. I’m probably leaving soon though.”
She continued her conversation for a few more minutes, but you didn’t hear anything after that. A tension headache was sharp behind your eyes, while anger (yes, anger) rolled hot under your skin. Your lips pursed. You busied yourself with straightening up the kitchen until she continued her call for another few minutes.
“Sorry about that,” she said, finally turning her attention back to you. “So what do you need?”
You put away the last dry dish and turned to her coolly.
“Nothing.”
Andréa frowned. She knew there was something off with you, but her furrowed brows betrayed her confusion.
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” you repeated. “Don’t you need to head out, anyway?”
“No, I was just…what’s up with you?” she asked.
“What’s up with me is my grandfather’s dying!” you snapped. You left her in the kitchen, precisely so that she’d follow you out. You grabbed her purse for her and went to the front door, where you stepped out.
Andréa was dismayed and confused as she followed you out onto the porch. She raised her brows at you when you shut the door and crossed your arms at her.
“I know you, and this isn’t just about that. What’s the problem?” she asked.
“You can’t seem to detach from your boyfriend for more than five minutes to just be my friend. That’s the problem,” you replied. “But why should I be surprised? Like always, you’re too wrapped up in yourself to consider anyone else.”
Her brows knitted together; she looked hurt by your words, but also defensive.
“How can you say that when you’ve been exactly the same way?” she accused. “Since you met Dean, I’d be lucky to see you once a week—”
“I call you every week,” you began, counting the list with your fingers. “You’re always busy, but you never give me a day that works for you. And when we do make plans, you usually cancel. Why? Because you’re going sailing with Benny. You’re going to a restaurant, hours away, just to try the new sushi bar beer garden, or whatever the hell. Or you’re going on an impromptu road trip, or you’re planning a summer trip to Greece. Give me fucking break, Dre.”
By now she was frowning angrily, her arms crossed. “You’re mad at me because I have a life?”
“No. I’m happy for you that you found someone. I really am,” you said. “But we clearly live in two different versions of reality. I just don’t have the time or the energy to entertain yours.”
You knew you were being too harsh. You felt incredible guilt as soon as it all left your mouth…but part of you also felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest. The problem was, you still felt heavy. Just in a different way.
Both of you were crying when Andréa left your house.
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All too soon, a week became a month. In that time, Dean called you every day to check on you. He spent most of his evenings with you and George when he wasn’t on shift. And when he was, sometimes Meg would drop in.
She understood your argument with Andréa, and she respected you for taking a stand when you needed to. She even confided you that she’d had similar frustrations with her cousin lately.
But Meg wasn’t your only visitor. Ellen had come a few times to bring you lunch and dinner, even breakfast, though you hadn’t asked her to. You realized then how close Dean must be to his friends at the firehouse, along with the Harvelles; Ellen also refused to take any money from you for the food.
By the end of the month, George mainly spent his days sleeping. Pain medication made his days nearly painless, but not without struggle. You were doing your best to care for him while continuing to work full-time from home. You were also exhausted, though you refused to admit it.
Today was a better day, however, because George was awake. He was also more aware of his surroundings than usual.
He stopped you from adjusting his pillow so you would sit down on the edge of his bed. He took your hand in his, brushing a thumb over the back of it.
“I’m okay with this, you know,” he said. You pursed your lips, but he stopped you from whatever you were going to say. “I don’t want to leave you. You know that…but I’m so damn proud of you. Your Gram was, and still is…”
Your lower lip wobbled as you tried and failed to keep your tears at bay. They stung in your eyes and slipped past your defenses, down your face.
“The house is yours. But if that’s too hard for you, just sell it,” he said, heaving a deep breath. “It’s just the bones. You’re the heart. And you always have been.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but not a sound would come out. You held his hand with both of yours and stared down at them. Until his voice once again commanded your attention.
“I always thought…moving to the city ruined my daughter. That we should’ve stayed in Lebanon. That maybe I gave her too much freedom, and I failed her somehow along the way,” George said. His eyes were heavy with old heartache. And yet, they soon began to lighten.
“But the day we lost a daughter, we gained one too,” he said. Then, he chuckled a little. “And I know I never failed with you, sweetheart.”
That proved to be too much for you. He pulled you into his arms like you were still a child, and he held you for a long time while you cried yourself out.
Though he eventually spotted Dean hesitating in the doorway. He’d probably let himself in with the spare key you’d given him.
George raised a hand from your back and silently beckoned Dean inside his room. He was getting tired, drifting off thanks to the morphine.
“Hey, lookie there. The boyfriend’s here,” George whispered with a bit of cheek. You sucked in a breath and raised your head, wiping at your eyes before you turned around. Dean met you with an attempt at a smile and a gentle hand on your back.
“Just got out of work?” you asked. He’d been on a 24-hour shift, and you’d missed him. You stood and stepped into his welcoming embrace. He dropped a kiss on your forehead.
“Yeah. I’ve got the next couple of days off,” Dean said. He greeted George next and asked him if he needed anything.
“Just some water,” the older man replied.
“I’ll get it,” you said with a sniff. “Need to start dinner too.”
“I already brought some food. You like Italian, right?” Dean said, with a subtle smile. It earned your sigh and a grateful smile. He knew very well that it was now one of your favorites. Italian meatballs always reminded you both of your first date.
“Thank you,” you said, grasping his hand. He squeezed yours with a nod, before he let you go.
When you were out of earshot, George cleared his throat past a wet cough. Dean reached over and grabbed him a tissue. George took it with a nod. Again, he encouraged Dean to come closer.
“I’m not worried,” George said, between deep breaths. “You know why?”
Dean just stared back for a moment. He genuinely had no idea what the man might say next.
“Tell me,” he said.
“My granddaughter’s strong. Always has been, because she had to be,” said George. “But you’re gonna be there when she’s not.”
Dean considered the weight of that charge. The anxiety in his chest felt familiar; like the day he got his badge at the Fire Academy, knowing then the responsibility he held in his hands.
That’s a lot to put on just three months of knowing this girl, came a more selfish thought. It sounded a lot like the guy he used to be, not too long before he met you.
But when Dean thought about you, and what you’d begun to mean to him…
He realized that he only had one answer.
“Yes, sir. I am,” said Dean.
George gave a tired smile. “Good man.”
And that night, an agreement was made. 
In the morning, your grandfather was gone.
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Dean held you through what he thought was the worst of your heartbreak. But after that dour morning, it was like a switch flipped inside you.
In the days after George’s death, your shutters came up. You threw yourself into checklists and task after task—in funeral arrangements and planning and contacting distant relatives and friends.
This was your failsafe. Your version of “autopilot.” And these things needed to get done, after all.
But Dean worried when he no longer saw the softer side of you. Like your heart had been wrung dry. 
He inevitably had to go back to work, but in between the demanding hours of his schedule, he tried to get you to slow down. He saw the warning signs of you running yourself into the ground. He just didn’t know how to help you land.
So Dean picked up slack where he saw it, often without you asking him to. He began fixing the house, one section at a time. He enlisted Benny’s help, since he actually had a small construction business. Dean even paid for the materials himself without you knowing.
And one sunny afternoon, he took a break from repaving part of the cracked and uneven driveway to grab a beer inside. You were sitting at the kitchen table with stacks of papers all around you, your cellphone on speaker as some kind of elevator music continued to ring on a loop.
“Can you believe I’ve been on hold with the funeral director for 20 minutes?” you told him in irritation. But you didn’t truly take sight of him until he came back from the kitchen.
He wore a familiar ensemble of jeans and black undershirt with a plaid shirt, rolled up to his elbows. He was covered in a fine layer of sweat, and his hands were dusty and stained from his work on the driveway. Dean looked tired, and that made you feel guilty.
Meanwhile, he frowned and popped open a beer. “You want one of these? Looks like you could use one.”
You shook your head. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You’d try calling again later. Instead, you focused on the next item of your checklist for today.
“Food. Because we’re gonna need to eat after the service,” you inclined your head. “Okay, still need to come up with a list of caterers, because I don’t think I can cook for that many people.”
Dean nodded at that. “Let me talk to Ellen. She’ll give you a good price, and her food is good.”
You looked up from your notepad and considered him thoughtfully. You wouldn’t have thought to cater from a bar, but he was right. Ellen had great food at the Roadhouse.
“Okay, I’ll call her,” you said.
“No, I’ll call her,” Dean insisted. He set down the beer on the table and leaned his palms flat on its surface. “Sweetheart, I told you I’d help you with all this. You don’t have to do it by yourself.”
“Dean, you’ve done enough,” you replied. Your brows drew together stubbornly. “You’re paving my driveway right now, for God’s sake! This is my responsibility, not yours.”
Dean frowned, making you sigh. You leaned back in your seat and crossed your arms.
“Look, we’ve only been dating for three months,” you said. And in your mind, a good chunk of that time had been spent in the worst hell of your life. “This right here? It’s a lot. I’m not expecting you to deal with all this…”
You bit your lip, and your gaze fell away from his as your insecurities took hold. The thoughts that had been plaguing you every night since this all began, on the night of the car accident.
“And…if you’d rather take a break from us for a while, I’d understand,” you said.
Your voice was more collected than you felt. But that didn’t make it any easier when Dean stared back at you, mostly incredulous. You even thought you saw a thread of hurt there, and it made your heartache worsen.
Dean came around to your side of the table. He dragged a chair back and sunk into it, facing you directly.
“You think that’s the kind of guy I am?” he asked.
You immediately shook your head. You weren’t trying to upset him, or imply that he wasn’t reliable, or trustworthy, or whatever was running through his head. You were just trying to be realistic.
You’re so pragmatic it hurts, as Andréa had often told you.
“Dean, it’s not that…” you began, a bit helplessly. “I just—”
“Just, nothin’.” His chair scraped toward you as he reached out for your hand. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said this next part. 
“I’m not leaving you with this.”
Your gaze met his, though you desperately tried to keep your heart from rising into your throat. 
“I’m not leaving you,” Dean said. His tone, his eyes, his hold on your hand was firm.
For a moment, you stared at him, unblinking, even as tears swam in your eyes. 
He’s not leaving you. 
Not like everyone else in your life.
You were grateful. Too grateful, even, for words.
When you finally broke down into tears, Dean realized what an idiot he’d been. Your wall of stoicism had been just that—a flimsy wall. Now it was shattered, and so were you.
It scared him just how much, as he gathered you onto his lap and into his arms. You didn’t seem to care that he was dirty and covered with sweat. You clung to him strong, and he held you back just as tightly.
“No matter what I did, it wasn’t enough,” you confessed. “You save people all the time. I couldn’t save anyone in my life.”
Dean frowned. He cupped the back of your head, and he felt your tears sliding down his neck. His voice was thick with emotion when he was able to reply.
“Oh, baby. It’s not your fault.”
“I can’t…I can’t do anything. Anything that matters.” Your voice was a broken whisper. It damn near broke his heart. 
“Now you know that’s not true,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you lie to yourself like that.”
You trembled and heaved with sobs, and he continued to hold you.
Just be there, Sam had told him, when Dean had called him from the hospital. Sam reminded him again last week, when George finally passed.
Is that all I’m supposed to do? Dean thought. His brows furrowed, but he tried to hide his frustration.
He was used to people depending on him. He led a team. Before then, he’d looked out for Sam all his life. Dean had never had to help someone get through this kind of grief though. He just wanted to help you, in whatever way he could.
Because he was worrying, just like you. That whatever he did, it wouldn’t be enough.
But he couldn’t leave you. 
I can’t, and I won’t, he thought. So he took a breath, and he said the first true thing that came to mind.
“You’re the strongest woman I know, you know that?” Dean said. He spoke low and steady, but with the conviction he felt. “And that’s a tall order, considering some of the badass ladies I’ve got in my life.”
A smile tugged at his lips when he considered people like Ellen and Jo, Jody and Donna. He might’ve lost his mom, but he and Sam hadn’t lacked when it came to influential women in their lives.
“But I saw it the day we met. I see it every time we’re together,” he continued. “You work hard as hell. You take care of everyone around you…”
You were still quiet, trying to stifle your crying.
Dean let out a breath. “Man, if you only knew how much you’ve been helping me. Keeping my damn feet on the ground with this whole…arsonist mess my dad’s been investigating. Digging up the past, my mom, the whole damn thing.”
With a sniffle, you uncurled from him, just enough to reveal your face. Your grip on his shirt loosened, your palm flattening on his chest. He held your hand there and turned his lips to your forehead. He sensed that you were calming down. That you were listening.
“That matters to me,” he told you.
You nodded and tightened your hand on his. “Me too.”
Your voice was still shaky, but it sounded a little stronger.
“See? You might as well face it.” Dean grinned. “You’re a badass chick with a big heart.”
You snorted in response. Your lips even twitched at a smile. He spied it when he looked down at you. And you rested easier against him as your tears subsided.
“Thank you,” you whispered. He dried your cheek with a brush of his hand. 
“For what?” he asked.
“For staying.”
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AN: So first off, I'm sorry for the gritty "reality" of this one. It's just where the story took me, though it serves a purpose narratively and for both the reader and Dean's character development.
But also, I think this has just been on my mind, since both my grandmother and great uncle (brother and sister) died within a year of one another due to different forms of cancer. My great uncle passed in May of this year, and my grandmother two years this past October.
Again, I'm sorry if this one was too heavy, but art does imitate life and this was probably my brain trying to express those emotions I couldn't fully make sense of at the time. George will be missed, but will still be felt in the rest of this story, as I'm sure any of you who've lost close family members will understand. 💙
Next Time:
The identity of Azazel will finally be revealed in Part 12. But first...
You nodded. “By the way, it was nice of Sam and Eileen to come. And Meg and Cas.” 
Dean smiled.
“They can be your people too,” he said. “If you want ‘em to be.”
You couldn’t help it. Your tears brewed and bubbled over. And you moved slowly across the couch to twine your arms around his neck. Dean’s lips tugged at a smile, and he welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.
Both of you were still wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing all day; you in your black dress and Dean in his slacks and white buttoned-down shirt, though by now without the jacket, and the shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
You were infinitely exhausted. But one thing had become clear to you over the past few weeks.
“Thank you. Thank you for today, and for every day since we met,” you said shakily.
Keep Reading: PART 12
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
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nescaveckwriter · 26 days
Text
Lighthouse
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A/N: 🐞... Okayz my dearest love bugs, 💕 another one done for @jacklesversebingo 🥰 yayaness, I know its been a while though, But I hope y'all are gonna enjoy this one, I must say I'm super proud and, a little terrified as this is 'Supernatural' based 🫣🤭, so let me know what y'all think.🥰 Okayz much love🥰❤️🩷
Warnings: *18+ Only* Horror, Thriller, Mentions of blood, violence, angsty, little fluff, heartbreaking, drama.
Line: Tree, Clock, Rope
Characters: Dean x Fem Reader, Sam, Benny, Cas, Crowley
Words: 6700 😱🫣 I know I'm sorry.
Cover & Pictures: Pinterest, Canva, Google
Side Note: Please check out my Masterlist for more, epic stories🐞💕
The sky has turned into grey, dark clouds threatening too cover the earth with its darkness, the smell of rain is everywhere as it nourishes the earth, as you stand under the pouring rain, listening too him say, goodbye, letting the rain mix with the tears on your cheeks. Not being able too move a muscle, you just stood there unable to make a single sound, unable to ask him why, why after this long, did he want to break up with you, did he want to throw away the life you built. Weren't you enough for him no more,? Is there someone else? Why Now?
The way he said goodbye wasn't with a voice filled with anger, no, his emerald green eyes was sad, his voice almost breaking when he said "I need too let you go sweetheart" and his lips found yours instinctively, it was a soft, kiss, mixed with the taste of him, salt and rain. You didn't want him too leave, you wanted to grab ahold of him, and beg him too stay, but before you could, he got in that Chevy Impala, the engine roared and the tires screeched, as he drove off into the darkness, not a single star in the sky, its almost as if the magic of the moonlight left with him.
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Its been a little over three months since he left you standing in the rain, like some dumb country song, but you somehow found a way too move through your everyday life, you were a hunter before you met Dean, and you still are, well in all honesty saving people is the only thing that got you through the days.
It isn't really a job you tell everyone about, oh heck no!, its more a work you keep too yourself, letting your family believe, your just a traveling failure, well you always did kind of feel like you lost your way over the years, but these days your numb. Your best friend Sam doesn't even talk too you anymore, you don't really have a lot of folks who you could call, and say "hey, ya know I'm not really doing well, I need a pick me up or a damn hug" no you always kept too yourself, not trusting anyone, but the day you met Dean and Sam on a hunt it changed.! Sam quickly became your best friend and well Dean soon became the only man you'll ever love, even though he had his issues. And then there was Castiel the angel, he has always felt like a beacon of hope, making you laugh with his "I don't understand that reference" sayings. But the day Dean walked out they all left, leaving you completely alone in this damn scary world. It's not the monsters that scares you, no that you get, but it's the people. Every single person you have met in your life has a hidden agenda, why can't they just be good people.
Sitting at the diner in the small town, were you were investigating strange disappearances, ordering a black coffee, the display with the different pies catching your eye. Your mind wanders off to Dean's birthday... You prepared all his favorite foods, burgers, bacon, fries, the greaser the better, and then you started with the making of his favorite pies. But somewhere along the way you forgot about the pie's in the oven, letting them burn to a crisp, after you rushed in, trying to save what's left of the charred goods, seeing it was disaster, you wouldn't be able to save it, you burst into tears, cussing yourself for messing up what's supposed to be the perfect day, you felt his strong arms pulling you towards his chest, staining his shirt with the wetness of your cheeks. He's breathe hot as he kissed you, in a loving, comforting way, reassuring you everything will be okay, it's just pie's not the end off the world.
He always did know how too comfort you, how too chase the darkness away, he was your lighthouse, so to say, showing you the way, back too the light. And now, now there's no more light too go home. No more home, just nothing.
Taking a sip of the now cold bitter coffee, that kind of taste like, old shoes, not that you'll know how that would taste like, but betting its something like this. Placing the cup down, sliding the dollar's underneath the half full cup on the diner table, you get up, throwing your ball cap on, hair hanging loose on your shoulders, taking your leather jacket and phone, you start too head out of the small town diner.  Walking towards your Harley Davidson, you've always liked the way, that bunch of metal, felt roaring as you sat on that leather seat, the wind rushing through your hair, the way those gas fumes, flowed through your veins, not even to talk about the adrenaline that went with it, oh damn, you felt about your Harley like Dean felt about his impala. Seeing a giant creep checking out your bike, leaning on it, irritation in your voice "excuse, what are you doing?"
His voice rough and unpleasant "why do you care, little missy"
Walking closer, your eyes darker than usual "that's my bike"
The bald man, with his long beard, hiding his tatted neck, started to laugh "No way such a small little thing can handle that sort of horse power"
"I'm only going to ask you nicely one more time, get off my damn bike!"
Crossing his arms in front of him, "Or what? You gonna call the little cops"
"No! I'm going to make you get off my bike"
"I'd like to see you try missy"
She really wasn't in the mood for this. So she tried to shove him off, but he was on the larger side and didn't really move a single damn inch. It just made him irritated "hey come here missy" he said as he grabbed a hold of your arm, you smiled, that made him look at you all confused, but he soon realized, he should not have messed with you, as you took his fingers, and started bending them backwards, bringing the big guy down to your size. With your free hand, you punched the sucker in the face. Got up on your bike, and drove down the road too the nearest bar you could find, for information and while you where there you might as well get something to drink.
The Black Chevy Impala roared as it parked in front of the diner, Dean and Sam got out, a big guy, with a black eye, just got off the ground as they started making their way towards the door, Dean looked at the guy a smirk on his face "What happened to you buddy?"
The man mumbled "crazy biker chick"
Dean just laughed, as he figured this chick was probably part of his gang, as the beaten up guy had a biker jacket with their logo on. He still smiled but he felt stabbing pains in his heart. His sweetheart was a 'biker chick' a swell, she could handle that roaring horsepower better than most men, and man!, was she tough, so fierce and fiery, so passionate and yet so gentle, vulnerable at times, so fragile, she cared more than most, people, and beautiful, so freaking beautiful, her smile could light up a room, he fell hard for her the first time he saw her, and it just grew from there he loved her , he still loved her, but he just had too walk away, for her own safety, everyone close too him get hurt or dies. And especially with everything going on, he couldn't risk it, if someone found out, that she wasn't just another hunter, no she was the love of his life, he'd never forgive himself if something would happen too her. Sam calling his name for the fourth time pulled him out of his deep thoughts, "Hey man, you with me?"
"Yeah, yeah, just thinking I need a drink not coffee"
Sam gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing his brother probably thought of her again, he just nods and says "okay sure let's go"
The only information she got was that, some of the missing folks were last seen close too a pig farm , on the outskirts of this town.
And now, now she just sat here swallowing the vodka, it was easier than too think that Dean aren't coming back, hating how she felt , how alone and miserable, how heartbroken, she really thought that she was stronger than this, but no, she's weak and pathetic, sobbing about a man, a damn man who left her in the pouring rain. What the hell was wrong with her, she never was the kind, to be good little wife material, who would cook for her husband and bake brownies for her children's school, but the sad truth was she wanted too be all that with Dean, she would've gave up hunting, too be his wife and the mother of his children. But clearly he didn't feel the same. Thumbing away a stray tear, she gestures to the bartender , for another. The music was loud and the alcohol made her slightly lightheaded, she knew she needed some air, sliding off the barstool, walking towards the exit, fumbling in her pockets for a packet of cigarettes, she only smokes when she drinks. Some guy, lit her cigarette, she just nods, thanking him with a smile as she stood in the crisp evening air, the air mixed with nicotine hit her lungs, letting a little cough escapes her lips. As she blows out the smoke, she heard that damn Chevy pull in, she couldn't miss it , Dean had a certain way if driving and it was him for sure. She just stood there, frozen in the darkness. "What the hell is he doing here" whispering underneath her breath. Hoping that he doesn't see her, knowing that she will burst out in tears the moment she tried to speak too him.
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He wales past a couple of bikes, that's when he saw it, her bike, hard too miss it, on the rear bumper the lyrics of her favorite Bon Jovi song. He elbows his brother "Sam, she's here"
Sam looked at him shocked, "What? Are you sure"
Running his hand over his face "Of course I'm damn sure" clearing his throat "I can't see her, man, I just can't, I've missed her so much, it was hard enough too walk away from her that night, I won't be able to do it again"
Sam places his hand on his big brother shoulder "Don't you think, this whole protection thing your trying is dumb"
Dean's jaw clenched, "No, Everybody around me dies, and there's nothing I can do about it, I have to let her go"
Sam just shook his head, his known his brother felt like this for a while now, but it's gotten worse, his unsure why, but he will try and get through too him, Dean's only been happy, whenever he was with her. "Okay let's go"
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Dean and Sam made their way towards the car, they're about to get in when they heard a spine chilling scream , Dean recognized her voice. He searches in the darkness, when he catches a glimpse of four men, throwing her in a black van. He didn't even realized it but he started running towards the van, as the last of them jumped in, he saw a glimpse of her, the last thing he heard, was her screaming his name and a gun shot, which brought him to a stop as he fell to the ground, chanting her name over and over, until his eyes fell closed.
Sam fired his gun towards the van, but couldn't get decent shots from that angle. He fell to his knees next to his brother, glancing at the bullet wound in his chest, the blood gushing out, he applied pressure on the wound, he could feel the life draining from his brother as he begged Castiel to come. Sam's eyes damp with tears, his heart pounding in his throat, a silent scream escaping his lip "Cas, please man, I need you Dean need's you"
You could hear the flutter of wings, when the celestial being landed, his face struck with concern "What happened?"
Sam glanced at the man in the trench coat, holding his brother in arms, "please, just help him Cas"
The angel approached his best friend, there was nothing quite as bad, as seeing him, in pain, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder and Sam's, the three men found themselves in a motel, Dean was still unconscious but breathing, Sam glanced at the angel, mouthing a "thank you"
Traces of the tears still evident on her cheeks as she recalled Dean getting shot, he was there, running towards her, he stilled cared. The four men watched her like a hawk, she cradled her legs in the corner, as if she's a animal trying too hide herself from the prey.
The van came to a stop, she knew something had to be done, so she took the knife she hid in her boots, covered it in her hand, she knew taking all four men was asking to much, so she'll have to isolate them. Take them one by one. The men double, maybe triple her size, but she aren't going down this way, without a fight.
As the two men , opened the door, she saw what looked like a barn, there where cages, with other people inside, seeing she's not the only one that needed saving, she slid the knife back in her boot. She needed more information than this, so she went with it. The man held her by her hair, threw her into a cage which had two other girls probably about round about 16 and 18, and much older man, in his late 60's maybe. Hitting the the floor, scraping her palms.
The older man helped her up, "you okay?"
"Yeah thanks never been better" the sarcasm rolled over her pressed lips.
A big guy, came standing against the cage, with a stupid smug on his round face. "When Ricky there told me about this little woman, who punched him, just for leaning against her bike, I knew I had too throw you in the ring"
She got to a standing position, striding closer, too this gigantic man, "What are you? A human trafficker , organ? What"
He laughed "None of the above, just a business man," he started walking away.
"What is he talking about?" Her eyes intensified "Does anyone know why we are here?"
She heard a man's voice coming from another cage, he was beaten pretty bad, "We are here too fight against each other, like the movie Condemned, apparently it happens in really life" he let out a defeated laugh. The whole barn filled with chatter, people gasping for air, as the initial shock took over. Those who haven't seen the movie, quickly got enlighten by those who have, the rich of the rich, places bets on the person, who they think will survive and it gets streamed on the dark web for everyone to watch.
There's a clock with a timer and the one who have killed all the other 'players' in that amount of time, gets to live another round. Some just cried, the others just quietly, sat in the corners of their cages, holding on too their knees, as if that's going to help, everywhere in that barn there's cages filled with silence and then those with chatter.
Then in the cage she's in, the two young teenage girls just hold on too each other, clinging for dear Life. The grey old guy, just kept mumbling too himself, "I can't kill these people" over and over.
Probably not the most polite thing in this situation but damn, it worked on her nerves, she's trying think of a solution, a plan something to save these people. But she was all out of ideas, to be honest, except maybe one, her back was against the cage, she silently started to talk to Cas, asking him to come and find her, but nothing, he didn't hear or he didn't want too, either way it was up too her.
Glancing down at the ground, then her leather boots she remembered the knife, she could use that too unlock the cage door, then start freeing the others, she took the last bit of hope in her hand, starting to put the blade in, turning and wiggling it, until she heard the click sound, she was overjoyed, she slowly opened the screeching steel door, every noise sounded as loud as thunder.
She could see the different keys, close to the barn entrance, almost walking on the balls of her feet, so that she didn't make a single sound, reaching for the keys, her fingertips barely touching it, she jumped into the air, grabbing ahold if it, she started making her way towards the first cage. Searching for the key that fits, the barn doors flung open, she recognized the guy, Ricky from earlier, and some other dude, who made her skin crawl , "Hey how'd you get out?" Ricky shouted.
"What you can see me?" She joked, something she always did, when she was very nervous.
The other guy ran to her, but she kicked him before he even could touch her, she still had the knife in hand, this big fella didn't say, much, he charged towards her, when that silver blade touched his arm, it made him squirm, "Oh that's just freaking lovely, what are you, a vamp? A wolfie?" She sneered
The moment he showed his, teeth she knew it was a werewolf, the other folks in the cages screamed, as they never saw such a creature.
"So this games rigged? Normal human being and creatures from the night, joining the game"
Surprised the wolf looked at her , a growl "your a hunter?"
Mischievous smile on her lips "why would you say that?" The wolf growled once again, as he charged towards your position, clawing your back, as he flung you against a cage, everything is swimming before her eyes, all you could make out was that she was flung against the beaten up man, he had the bluest eyes, which kind of reminded her about Castiel's eyes.
The wolf like creature came closer, looking for your blood, that's when the man stood up, black coat drenched in blood, unsure if it was his own, or some of the creature's his killed, the last time, his blue orbs, illuminated, bloodshot veins stretched like a roadmap in his eyes , his fangs came out revealing that his a vampire.
Laying there, you where left at the mercy of these two, but you were surprised when the vamp, took ahold of the wolf, smashing his head against the bars, he had this deep old time southern voice "leave her alone"
The man, glared at her and the vamp, picking her up, letting her sway like a sack of potatoes in the air. Ricky quickly came to open the cage, throwing her in by the vampire, "You can have her".
Knowing the open wounds made the situation worse, as it was like a magnet for the vamp, she tried too get up, too defend herself but, in that moment she was too weak.
The vamp, came closer towards her, his features returned to those of a man, his voice kind "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm Benny"
Shocked "Benny, like in Benny Lafitte? Dean's friend?"
He smiled, "I thought I recognized you, saw you once on his lock screen, asked him about this new women in his life, he told me you are the love of his life"
Smirking, "Yeah that's awhile ago I guess"
Confusion written all over his face, but before he could ask, the barn filled with gas, hearing Benny say "its to knock us out so they can take us to the next location" before you could find out more, the knock out gas started taking its toll.
His eyes flutter open, Sam and Cas both sharing the same concerned facial expressions, his voice croaky "what did something happen? Is.." struggling to form the words "is she gone?"
Sam spoke quickly, trying to reassure his big brother "No! We don't know, Cas can't pick up her location"
 Cas spoke "Wherever she's at, must be warded off with sigils"
Dean groaned when he sat up, "we have to save her, I can't loose her"
The three of them turned their heads when they heard the familiar phrase from Crowley "Hello Boys"
Dean immediately got up, pointing a finger at him, "Do you have something to do with her disappearance, tell me now!"
 Crowley gave him a sympathetic look, that lasted about an second "Squirrel I had nothing to do with her, but I know where you can find her"
Dean could not control the anger that intensified in his chest, he smashed Crowley against the nearest wall, his arm pressing against his throat his forest green eyes pierced the black ones, his voice low, and stern "Crowley if your messing with me, I will kill you, I swear I'll kill"
 With the flick of Crowley's fingers Dean flew across the room, he shouts, this whole situation clearly upsetting him as well. "She saved my damn life, why would I want something to happen to her, she cared enough to save me, ME!!!" Crowley shouted.
Sam hurried to help Dean up, recalling the saving Crowley is talking about, he was stuck in a devils trap, bounded with chains around his hands and neck, as some other hunter took out all his anger on Crowley, stabbing him over and over, when she came in, tried talking the man down, but he didn't see any reason as he thought Crowley was to blame for the death of his family, but he wasn't, he had nothing to do with it. As she was talking to this guy, she slowly started  to scratch the round red chalked circle on the floor with the heel of her boots, so that Crowley can break free, the line was finally broken, by clicking his fingers the chains shook loose and fell into a thousand pieces, the other hunter saw what she did, ran towards her, pushed the blade right through her upper torso. That's when Dean and Sam ran into, her for the first time, they where hunting the hunter who they thought was possessed but turns out he had such an amount of rage inside him, that whom ever got in his way, he'd kill.
Dean's harsh voice pulled Sam out of his thoughts, "Where is she Crowley"
"Well not only her , but other people as well, even Werewolves and vampires, you named it they have it, I know the location, but we have to go now," he clears his throat, "there's only one snag, neither can I nor Cass get in their, the damn sigils on the barns wall, wont let us through"
Dean's already halfway across the room, towards the door, "what are we waiting for"
In a matter of seconds the four of them stood In front of the barn on the pig farm, Sam is busy discussing a plan of action but Dean, already pushed the barn doors open, "what the hell Dean" the loudness in Sam's voice makes Dean face him, but he just shakes him off, not answering, too determined to safe her, he walks in, gun in hand, ready for anything, everywhere you look, all the cage doors stands open, not a single trace of anyone, something glistening on the floor catches his eye, its a rose gold chain with a heart shaped locket, he didn't need to turn it around, to see the engraved 'love you always D.W' to know its hers, he opens it anyways, glaring at the picture, both off them laughing, the way they looked at each other, you could feel the electricity, the love they shared, he folds it closed in his fisted hand, his eyes damp with emotion. He runs outside, punches Crowley straight in the face. Cas takes ahold of Dean's arm's demanding him to stop. The defeated look on his face is too much too bare for the three men looking at Dean, disappointed and unsure where to look next they start looking around the farm for clues, for something that can give him a glimpse of hope.
The strong sunrays, burning her eyes, as she opens them, the pain from last night's fight, let's her realize what's happening, she tries too move, but can't, searching for the reason, she sees the rope wrapped around her arms, and waist, too a tree, she tries too wiggle, to get out off the tight grip, that's when she hears a ticking of a clock tick-tock, tick-tock, it sounded incredibly loud, looking up to where the sounds came from, seeing giant speakers blaring the sound of a clock. A rough unpleasant voice spoke, game rules: "Everything goes, you can use any weapon you can find, to kill your opponent, and also remember the last one standing gets too live" he lets out a snotty laugh. "Oh yes, and contestants, we made the first kill very easy, if you can find contestant five, she's tied up and ready to kill, oh and give us a show" he laughs harder, then all of the sudden its dead silence, figuring she's contestant no: five, she'd better think of something to get out if this situation. Her words barely a whisper, "I don't even know why I try, but Cas are you there, Crowley, can someone hear me? Please I need someone"
The rustling of the leaves, let's her know there's someone, maybe it's Cas or Crowley, maybe its someone's who wants to take her as their first kill.
The large man with his black coat walks towards her.
He's voice hushed, "let me get you outta here"
"Oh darn, I'm so thankful its you Benny"
As he unties her, they hear rustling in the bushes, he hands her a knife, and they stand ready for action, back against back, three people came closer, it's the three she shared the cage with, she and Benny suggested they walk behind them, so that the two of them can protect them.
The further they walk the more danger they seem too run into, Benny takes the most werewolves, windigos and Leviathan's , as for you, you take most of the other human beings, who wants to attack the two teenage girls and old man.
You are bruised, beaten and torn up, unsure if your body is covered in your own blood or those of the enemies, you keep on going, grateful, that you had these people to protect, because if you had to be honest, if it weren't for them, you wouldn't fight so hard to survive, every now and then you get flashbacks of how Dean got shot, knowing it was fatal, you don't want to allow yourself to think that he could be really gone, there's this glimmer of hope that he might still be alive, maybe Sam helped him, maybe Cas or Crowley.
 Resting against a tree to catch your breath, you see the blood gushing down your arm, one of the men came at you with a damn axe, and in the fight he threw the axe towards you, pinning you against a tree, it must've been the adrenaline but you wiggled that axe, out of you arm, screaming while throwing it back at him, which ended up between his eyes.  You fell too your knees, the emotion welling up behind your eyes, you get caught off guard when someone or something picks you up in the air. A little weak, and confused all you can see is that your draped over the large man, with multiple tattoos shoulder, it didn't take long, too lose consciousness.
Dean could not believe what he just heard, both Cas and Crowley told him, that they heard you call out too them, they knew where you were, you where caught in Purgatory, damn Purgatory. What the hell is going on. It felt like someone took his very last breath. His been too Purgatory, It's no joke for sure, it changed him, the only person who made him whole was her, his sweetheart and now, now she's going through all of that.
Crowley spoke with his people, which revealed, that the one and only Dick Roman sits behind it all, with a connection in the real world, who takes normal people, of all ages just to make money, and feed his obsession of killing people.
His quiet, as he drives too the place where the portal opens to Purgatory, thinking about all the things there, so many monsters, dangers around every corner. He just hopes, his going to make it in time, she just has too be okay, has to be alive, squinting his eyes as he recalls what he had too do, too survive.
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"Sweetheart you awake?" Rolling over too the right side of the bed, emerald green eyes looking back at you, "Baby?"
"Why do you look so surprised sweetheart"
"Uhmmm I'm not really sure, it feels so right yet so wrong" she smiled
Without a single word, Dean cups your face, places his lips on yours, its sweet, it's sensual, yet filled with passion. Breaking the kiss, you look at him, studying his face, the speck of hazel around the black pupil, the way, his freckles runs across his nose, almost like the milky way, the corners of his mouth, that is slightly curled in a smile, his plumps lips, that's slightly swollen from the kiss, the little stubble on his chin and cheeks, the way his jawline just kind of frames his picture perfect face, the way his deep smoky voice fills the air, and your body with a exhilarating energy, "Why are you looking at me like that?" He asked.
Your voice barely audible and brittle, "I just love you, I love you more than life itself"
 His voice calm, but certain "Marry Me"
Your jaw dropped, "What?"
He started to kiss your lips softly, his breathe hot as he said "Yes babe, I want you to be my wife?"
Searching his eyes your lips crept upwards into a smile, your voice sounded more brittle than you intended "Yes, yes Dean Winchester, I'll marry you"
The joy dancing in his green eyes, made you happy, even though a few stray tears rolled over your cheeks.
Feeling like your walking on cloud nine, then all of the sudden, you get this sharp pain in you ribs, unwillingly your eyes flutter open, gasping for air "what the hell?"
Looking around you, seeing your in some kind of room, chains around your wrists, hanging from what looks like the ceiling, clothing blood-soaked. Hair sticking to your face, sweat mixed with blood. Your feet barely touching the floor, it feels as if your arms is getting pulled out of their sockets if you move to much, your throat dry, realizing you must've been passed out, it wasn't really a dream, more like a memory, Dean did ask you too marry him, and then outta nowhere, two days later, you where left standing in the rain, the tears streaming down your face, unsure if it's about the way Dean left things, or the situation your currently thrown in.
Sighing, whispering to no one really "I'm tired, I'm so tired, I can't anymore and I don't want to anymore" head hanging down, looking at the floor, closing your eyes, wishing all this could be over, you heard heavy footsteps, laughter filling the dark air.
His voice smooth "All this turned out better than I could've imagined"
Confused you glare at him "okay, fine you win, get it over with"
Walking closer towards you, big smug on his face, "see, I can't deal with you yet, I know who you are" getting angrier now "I'll finally get my revenge, Dean will watch you die, he wanted to send me here, now I will take something precious from him"
Shocked to hear that he thinks Dean is still alive , she plays along maybe, it's her way out, Scoffing "Well sorry to hear you think he'd be coming to look for me, because we aren't together no more"
He laughs, "oh no, he is already here, searching for you, my men left him a little bread trail, as to where you are"
Furious now, you shake, trying to get loose, shouting "You leave Dean alone, kill me , but let him go please"
Clapping his hands together, "Ah, young love" he laughs harder "I am going to kill you, but Dean needs to watch, then I'll kill Sam, Cas and even Crowley, all while Dean has to watch"
Eyes wide, barely audible "They're all here"
His smug smile never leaving his face "oh yes, all of them, clearly they care, its so pathetic, you humans, you know that?"
Squinting her eyes, trying too fight the tears threatening to spill over, you care about all of them, more than you care to admit.  He just simply walks out of sight. The silence is deafening, the only thing she can hear is her heart racing, Dean's alive, he came looking for her. Somewhere between the excitement of hearing Dean's alive and the spine chilling silence, she lost consciousness.
 They hardly had too beat the crap out of some of the men, on their road to this half torn down, factory like building, all of them agreed, it felt like a trap, but Dean didn't give a damn, he needed to find her, save her and bring her home, he has been cursing himself internally, the whole damn way, if only he didn't freak out, but the moment he realized he wanted to marry her, be her husband, wishing he never said that, went on that hunt, saw how that ghost threw her against the wall, the pain she must've felt, he couldn't bear the thought of her getting hurt or worst getting killed, just because that's what he did, so saying goodbye, felt like the best thing to do, hoping she'll give up hunting, but he should've known better. He should have stayed by her side, he should have discussed his fears, the way he felt, but instead he went and broke her heart.
The four of them split up, there's to many halls, and doors too search, mostly the halls are filled with darkness, its filthy and disgusting, dried splattered blood on the walls, scattered human bones on the cement floors. There's scratching sounds coming from one of the rooms, the gun in Dean's hand is loaded, opening the door, unsure of what he's going to find, he's skin crawling as a bunch of rats, runs past him, some over his feet, slapping against his legs, whispering underneath his breath, "damn filth". He's heart, beating out of his chest, the more he walks in the darkness the more he can feel the darkness entering his mind, his heart, every grain of his very being.
He stopped in his tracks, the moment he saw her, hanging by chain's, her whole body is slumped over, hair covering her face, he can't make out if she's still breathing, for what felt like an eternity, he froze, almost too afraid to take a closer look. Striding closer till he's right in front of her, he gently takes her face in his hands, concern painted on his face, a burning pain in his chest, her beautiful face is bruised, and bloodied, her breathing faint, but still there, his voice hushed "Sweetheart, can you hear me"
Watching her open her eyes, was a beautiful site, she looked tired, a smile across her busted lips, "Dean,"
"Yes sweetheart I'm here, I'm sorry, I love you" he declared.
Sobbing now, "I... I thought I lost you forever"
"Baby, you'll always have me, always you hear me" he pleaded
Before she could answer a couple of men appeared out of the shadows. There were maybe six or seven, Dean got up, in a fighting stance ready to beat the crap out of them, he started punching and kicking his way, through the men, it wasn't until the last one hit the ground that he'd stop, blood splatters across his face, glancing over at her, he hears the familiar voice of Dick Roman "crashing the party are we?"
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"Yeah well I didn't receive an invite so thought I'll invite myself" Dean smirked. He drew his gun, knowing it won't really help, but it's more a habit, "What do you want?" He questioned
Crude laughter fills the air, "I want you to pay Dean" he snapped his fingers, more men came running towards Dean, he tried his best, but he was one against, all of them, they over powered him, one clocked him against the head, in his unconscious state, they were tying him to a chair with chains, facing you.
It didn't take long before they were beating you, biting your lower lip, not wanting to give them the pleasure of seeing you in so much pain, you could taste the blood on the tip on your lip.
Dick Roman came walking towards you, dagger in hand, hoping he couldn't see the pain, and fear in your eyes, your eyes pierced his, he didn't say a single word, he pushed that dagger, through the skin and bone, wedging it between your ribs. Your scream filling the dark room.
Dean's eyes flung open, he's jaw clenched, he's voice angered and defeated "NO BABE" he shouted.
"Ah poor Dean Winchester" he laughed
Dean's green eyes, now almost black, "I'm going to kill, I promise you that"
Laughter filled the air, once again, it didn't last long though, surprised he glanced at them, Sam, Cas, Crowley and Benny, all four off them stood their bloodied and beaten, but ready to fight. All four of them started fighting and killing their way towards Dean and you, Crowley was the first one to stand next too Dean, his British voice almost inaudible "This belongs to you" he's face lit up with a sly smile.
Dean looked at him all confused, "I thought you threw this in the sea somewhere"
Crowley just shrugs his shoulders. The moment he placed that blade in Dean's hands he could feel the mark, turning a fiery red, the power pulsing through his veins, it didn't take long for the effects to take control of him, breaking loose out of the chain's, he faces Dick Roman, a smirk on his lips, he's features darkens. Taking that blade right too his chest, he kept going over and over, not stopping for a second, driving the blade further and deeper into his now lifeless body.
Sam tried to make him stop, even Cas, Benny and Crowley, but it didn't work.
Your voice brittle, revealing the pain, "Dean stop, please Baby"
Immediately stopping, he threw the blade down, running towards you, his eyes pleading, his voice soft "Sweetheart I'm so sorry" cupping your face, kissing your lips, holding you close to him, as Cas and Sam unlocks the chains, your body went limb, all you could feel is his hands holding you upright. Staring into his emerald green eyes, mouthing "I love you" the last thing you catches a glimpse off, was the light in his eyes as he replied "I love you too, Sweetheart, come back to me, come home please"
 It's been almost three years since that dreadful day, smiling now, if it weren't for Dean begging Cas to save you, you wouldn't be here baking your husband his birthday pie, getting ready for the barbeque, with your good friends Sam, Cas, Benny and yes even dear old Crowley.
Did you and the Winchester Brothers stop hunting, no, of course not, but the two of you have each other and that's all you'll ever need, whenever your lost, knowing Dean's your lighthouse showing you the way home, with those beautiful green eyes.
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smellingofpoetry · 1 year
Text
Last Time?
Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Benny Lafitte
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: They promised each other it would be the last time.
Square/s Filled: “Age Difference” (@spnchristmasbingo), "Lingerie" (TMAS Bingo - @supernatural-jackles), "Dirty Talk" (@spnkinkevents), “Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.” (@anyfandomkinkbingo)
Warnings: age difference, smut, 18+, finger fucking, sex, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk
Rating: +18
Words count: 2460
A/N: Hi there! Not long ago I wrote a fic called “A few moments of madness” for the beautiful @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone. It was fun writing that one, especially the part where I left with that huge plot twist. I genuinely thought it was the end of the road for this story, though, until the inspiration hit me. And what was I supposed to do if not write it down? So, here we are today. I think I’m starting to figure out my way with smut, but I’ll let you judge that. Let me know what you think about it. Enjoy!
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He was in big trouble.
Since his little accident with his best friend's daughter - if that's what you wanna call it - he tried to avoid Benny at all costs. He did a pretty good job if you asked him, until the Christmas holidays. He wasn't in the mood to celebrate since what happened with Lisa, and he definitely didn't want to spend Christmas under the pity glances his family would throw at him. Sunday's lunch was already too much for his own taste. So, he decided to spend Christmas alone for once. Maybe eating take-out on the couch just like a grown-up person would do. He had everything planned already until Benny asked him to join him for Christmas dinner.
Dean knew he should have ignored the bell ring - he knew it.
Either way, he agreed because it was Benny and because, of course, he felt guilty for what he did. So, now, he was stuck celebrating Christmas with his best friend and his daughter. Yes, the same girl he had fucked months ago, and he still jerked off at the thought of it, even though he would deny this last piece of information with all his strengths if anyone asked him.
Dean had a plan, though.
He had spent the prior night wide awake, planning his way through the whole Christmas dinner. It was a solid plan, and he was kinda proud of it. He just needed to stay away from Y/N and follow every step just like he had planned them.
What could possibly go wrong?
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They were halfway through dinner and Dean was pretty sure he was going to hell. His plan, which was supposed to be solid, blow up in his face the moment he stepped inside his friend's house. He didn't even know how that happened, but here he was facing Y/N at the dinner table. He did his best to avoid her gaze and participate in the conversation, but if he had to be honest the only thing he could see was her bent down on his kitchen counter. Because of that he almost choked on his food on multiple occasions. Thank God his friend was too busy making sure everything was perfect for his daughter.
Yeah, his daughter…
Dean's thoughts trailed off again until he realized he was staring at her sweater a bit too much.
"Oh, crap, I forgot the beans."
Benny's voice caught his attention just in time to see his friend get up. Dean followed suit without thinking about it, too afraid to be left alone with Y/N.
"I'll go get them." he tried, earning a weird look from Benny.
"No, man, sit down. You're our guest. I'll be right back."
And with that Benny was already out of the room, leaving Dean with his napkin still in his hands, staring at the door. He cleared his throat, glancing at Y/N, who was watching him amused, before sitting down again.
"You're being weird," she told him while sipping her wine.
"No, I'm not." he scoffed, even though he knew she was absolutely right about it. Y/N raised one of her brows, watching him from the rim of her glass which earned an eye roll from Dean.
"Okay, fine, but in my defense, I just want you to know that when I came here, I had a solid plan to walk me through this..." he said, gesturing at them and the room they were in it.
"Oh, and how's going?" she asked amused, trying her very best to hide her smirk. Y/N figured she had done a poor job from the way Dean was looking at her - unimpressed.
"Clearly, it ain't working."
"Clearly," Y/N smirked, putting down the glass she was still holding.
Dean scowled at her, wanting to kiss that smirk out of her face. Wait, what? No. Absolutely, no. - he had to scold himself for thinking stuff like that about his friend's daughter, even if that same person was looking too damn cute for her own good.
"Okay, stop doing that."
"Stop what?" she asked with her brow raised in confusion.
"You know what! Never mind," he said, stubbing some of the vegetables on his plate with the fork. He didn't even like vegetables, for fuck’s sake. Y/N looked at him for a few seconds, glancing in the direction of the kitchen before leaning more toward Dean.
"Look, I know that we started on the wrong foot..."
"You can say that again." Dean scoffed, gulping down a generous amount of red wine.
"And I would like for Benny not to know about, you know..." she said, pointing at the two of them. "...us."
Dean sit up straight at that, putting down his glass and leaning more in her direction before speaking in a lower voice.
"He can never know about us," he said, panicked.
"So, could you, I don't know, act a bit more normal?"
Dean furrowed his brow, opening and closing his mouth a few times his mouth trying to find the right words.
"Yeah, right, right. I can do that," he assured her, even though he wasn't sure who he was really trying to convince, her or himself. She nodded her head with a small smile, satisfied by his answer.
"Great. And, oh, Dean, what happened between us..."
"...it can never happen again." he agreed, finishing her sentence.
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Y/N was pressed against the wall, her Christmas sweater pulled up and her breast spilling out from her red bra. Her skirt was around her waist by now, while her panties were discarded somewhere on the floor. She could still picture Dean's face when he discovered the lingerie she was wearing under her Rudolph sweater.
Her breath hitched in her throat at the feeling of Dean's cold fingers against her hot skin. Y/N felt them travel along the inside of her leg until he reached her aching pussy. He ran his fingertips along her slit way too gently, making her ache even more.
"Please..." she moaned, letting her hips sway back and forth in search of some friction.
"You want more, hm?"
Y/N nodded her head enthusiastically, trying to stifle a moan and failing miserably. Dean smirked, biting down on his lips. Yeah, hell was definitely waiting for him, and he couldn't care much.
"Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me, sweetheart," he whispered, taking away his hand from between her legs. Dean saw her open her mouth, sticking her tongue out for him and he had to restrain himself to not groan out loud. Damn, this woman - he thought while pushing three of his fingers inside her mouth. Y/N welcomed him without saying a word, sucking his fingers as if her life depended on it. Dean's free hand traveled down his pants, unbuttoning them to free his aching cock. He pushed them down just under his ass, taking down with them his boxer. His cock sprung free, tip red and precum already leaking. Y/N sucked at his fingers one more time before letting them free, licking her lips right after. Dean didn't even give her time to think about what was coming next and his three fingers found their way between her legs again. He circled her clit a few times before pushing inside her wet folds. He fingered her hard and fast, watching her take it thrust after thrust while taking hold of himself and giving a few strokes at his hard cock.
"Oh! God... Dean..." she whimpered, moving her hips against his hand while trying to hold herself somewhere, anywhere. She could already feel herself getting closer and closer, already tasting the pleasure when his fingers stopped, making her whine. Dean put his hands on her hips helping her move on her unsteady legs, positioning her in front of the bathroom mirror. He stayed behind her, watching her intently while his hands traveled along her body. He reached for her breasts, squeezing both of her tits in his hands and making her moan.
"You have to be quiet, now, Y/N. Can you do that for me, hm?" He asked her, licking the skin on her neck before latching his lips around her earlobe. She bit down on her lip, nodding her head at his question. Dean smiled with her earlobe still trapped between his teeth. He sucked at her skin one more time just for good measure before helping her lean forward.
"Bend down on the sink and spread your legs for me."
He didn't need to tell her twice. Y/N bent down, spreading her legs in the process. She felt exposed under Dean's gaze which made her even wetter than she already was. Dean bit on his lip, unable to take away his eyes from her glistening pussy. He took hold of himself, letting his cook brush against her folds a few times before lining himself at her entrance. He started to slowly push inside her, his eyes never leaving the mirror to watch her every single expression. Y/N closed her eyes, biting down on her lips to stifle the moans wanting to escape her. Dean let his fingers disappear between her hair, gripping a few of her strands and pulling them towards him. Y/N followed his movement arching her back and exposing her breasts even more.
"Open your eyes, babe. I want you to watch me fuck you," he whispered in her ear, feeling her shiver against him. She breathed heavily, taking a few seconds to regain control over her heart before opening her eyes just like he had asked her. The moment her eyes opened and looked at him through the mirror, Dean filled her with a deep thrust. Her whole body was pushed forward, and Y/N barely had the time to put one of her hands on the mirror to keep herself from crushing against it. She tried to follow every push of Dean's hips, matching his rhythm.
"Look at you, being fucked in your dad's bathroom by his friend." Dean panted in her ear, while still fucking her with a brutal pace. Y/N bit down on her lip harder, but she couldn't help the sound that came out of her at Dean's words. So, she put a hand around her mouth not trusting herself enough to be quiet, not when he was playing dirty. Dean smirked at her reaction, thrusting hard inside her while one of his hands went to her breast squeezing hard.
"Do you think he noticed your absence or he's too busy with the new year eve's party?" he asked her, knowing full well she wasn't going to answer him too busy pushing her hips against his hard cock. He let slip his free hand in between her legs, founding her clit.
"What would Benny think if he saw you right now, hm?" Dean felt her walls fluttering around his cock at that, making him falter for a moment.
Y/N let go of her mouth free even though she knew that wasn't a smart move, but the need to hold on to something was too much. So, she held onto the sink not being able to do anything if not stay there and take every push of Dean's cock ready to burst.
"Dean..." she whined, hoping that the music downstairs would cover her moans.
"You'd like that, don't you?"
"Oh God..."
"Say it," he told her, rubbing faster and faster at her hardened clit.
"Fuck... yes! Yes... yes..." she sobbed while the hardest orgasm of her life washed over her; her juices coating his cock. Dean groaned at the sight of her coming undone and after a few more thrusts he was spilling inside her, filling her up.
"Fuck, babe, yes." he panted in her ear, while his hips spasmed a bit more.
Dean collapsed on her, being careful to not crush her against with his weight. He breathed heavily, resting his forehead against her shoulders. Y/N rested against the cool sink, trying to catch her breath while letting her fingers travel between Dean's locks.
"That was..." he whispered, licking at his cracked lips.
"...the last time?" she asked him, scratching at his scalp making him moan.
"Yeah."
"You already said that yesterday after you fucked me on your couch..." she whispered, glancing at the mirror to look at him. Dean hid his face in the crock of her neck, grabbing at her breasts and squeezing them.
"...and the week before when we fucked in your car..." she whimpered, knowing exactly what she was doing while he bit down her skin.
"...and at Christmas dinner..."
Dean pulled hard at her nipples, making her gasp, and her core clenched around him but that seemed not to be enough to stop her.
"...half an hour later I was sucking you off, remember?" she asked, pushing him away gently just enough to turn around to have a better look at him. Dean let her move, still keeping her trapped between him and the sink, already missing the warmth of her pussy around him.
"Yeah, I remember that like I remember being balls deep inside you while your dad was sleeping three doors down," he whispered kissing her hard, letting his tongue swirl around hers.
God, she was able to make him a needing mess - he thought making a huge effort to push away from her. Dean licked at his lips, tasting her while slowly starting to recompose himself the best he could.
"We should get dressed and go downstairs before midnight," he said to her, bending down to grab her red lacy thong. She nodded her head, starting to adjust her bra before pushing down in his place her sweater. Dean kneeled at her feet helping her with her panties, pulling them up at her leg, and stopping halfway through to give one last lick at her wet pussy. Y/N shivered at that, opening her legs a bit more to give him better access at which she earned a gentle suck at her lips before he pulled her panties all the way up. Dean got up, kissing her one last time letting her taste herself on his tongue.
"You go first, and I'll follow in a few," he said to her, watching her adjust her skirt before walking to the door. She put her hand around the knob ready to turn it when she glanced at him.
"So, last time?" Y/N asked him just to be sure.
"Last time."
"Great, I'll see you back at your house then."
She winked at him before opening the door and slipping out of the bathroom. Dean closed the door behind her, resting his head against the cool wooden.
He was a dead man, but damn if it wasn't worth it. 
489 notes · View notes
bigfan-fanfic · 1 year
Text
Like the Real Cowboys Do (Male!Reader x Benny Lafitte x Dean Winchester)
Requested by @capturingthecountryside
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Dean smirked into the mirror, checking himself out for the fifth or sixth time since getting into the cowboy getup.
The black cowboy hat sitting low on his brow, the sinfully tight black Wrangler jeans tucked into black cowboy boots, held up with a matching black belt, and his button up shirt still hanging open - he feels like a sexy outlaw or something.
Which is the whole point.
Because, while he usually enjoys the medieval themed LARPs Charlie Bradbury takes him to, she's scouted him out a western one this time.
And what's better, you and Benny Lafitte will be there - Benny began dating you after you helped out his business, and had been inseparable ever since.
And Dean had started to develop a crush on you both when he met you and saw your relationship.
You've mentioned before to Benny about how Dean is always just a little too interested in your life together, always wanting to see you both, and considered the possibility that he might want to be a part of your relationship.
Benny didn't mind too much, but said you should let Dean come to that conclusion and act on it yourself... unless an unavoidably good opportunity presented itself.
Dean knows none of this, and so, he accepted a ride from you both to the LARP grounds, deciding if he can't work up the courage, he'll just have to use his body to seduce you. Hence the graphically tight jeans and slightly-higher-than-strictly-necessary-shut-up-Sammy boots.
Benny sometimes enjoys surprising Dean, so when Dean walks to his kitchen and sees Benny there, he's somewhat surprised but not too much.
"Wow, Dean. Couldn't be bothered to button up?" you tease.
Benny chuckles before Dean can respond. "Real cowboys didn't go around all exposed like that."
Dean rolls his eyes. "Oh really, old timer? Why don't you give me a rundown?"
Benny has him on the ground instantly, taking advantage of Dean's lack of suspicion to wrestle him neatly to the floor, holding him down by the back of the neck like a scolded puppy.
"You're under arrest." Benny drawls, his Cajun accent moving west and a little south and ending up somewhere on the Texas-Arizona border. "Hand me that rope, would ya, darlin?" he smirks at you.
"Aw, come on! Unfair!" Dean whines, but he doesn't bother to struggle against Benny's adamant grip. Benny has him hogtied in under a minute, his wrists bound together and stretched back to meet his ankles, which are crossed, tied, and pulled tight back up towards his wrists.
It's a testament to Dean's own athletic ability that he can withstand his back being bowed so far that his legs and chest lift up off the floor at the strict hogtie.
"Yeah, we knew how to get a man trussed up back then." Benny winks, watching Dean finally start to writhe, though mainly ineffectually. "But we had one more step..."
Dean growls as Benny pulls his own bandana off, flicking out the tails, and tying a knot in the center of it before pulling it between Dean's teeth.
He can still talk after Benny ties it firmly in place, but his speech is thoroughly garbled.
Benny winks at you as he picks Dean up and holds him over his shoulder, his hand resting on Dean's rear, supposedly to stabilize him but clearly with an ulterior motive.
"Another thing about cowboys was that they didn't care too much about traditional ways of doin things. So why don't you and I keep this here outlaw for a while and see if he enjoys being... kept?" He smirks, and you can see Dean's head move as his eyes widen in interest.
"Sounds like a plan, Benny." you smirk, reaching up to kiss him. "But you gotta teach me how to do that with the ropes."
"Sure thing." he winks, patting Dean's ass, making the hunter yelp. "We got our own outlaw practice dummy right here."
And with that, Benny carries Dean outside, and you consider that this LARP just got a whole lot more fun.
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mlmxreader · 28 days
Text
Hotel Room Service | Benny Lafitte x gn!reader x Dean Winchester (🍋)
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ request ❞
: ̗̀➛ For one night, Benny lets Dean share you with him.
: ̗̀➛ dom/sub, biting kink, praise kink, Daddy kink, spitroasting, rough oral sex, rough anal sex, anal fingering, dirty talk, sharing, nipple play, cum swallowing, breeding (anal), threesome
↳ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+ ONLY
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
You, Dean and Benny were hunting together, which wasn’t exactly unheard of;  just another vamp nest near the Mississippi River, which needed clearing out, and you and Benny happened to be in the area so you offered Dean a hand as Sam was in hospital and he couldn’t do it alone.
Dean knew about you and Benny, as the two of you were terrible at keeping secrets from either Winchester; it was kind of heartbreaking at first, as Dean had always had his eye on you and couldn’t deny that he was rather jealous of you and Benny being together.
But he tried his best to get over it, even though he still found you very attractive and couldn’t stop himself from shamelessly flirting with you in front of Benny.
What he did not know, though, was that, back at the motel where the three of you were staying, you and Benny had come up with an agreement; for just one night, Benny had agreed that he would allow Dean to share you.
It was your idea, but had it been anyone else, Benny would have said no - Dean was the only exception, and that night would be the only time. 
You sat Dean down on the bed next to you while Benny sat in the chair and watched from the corner; slowly, you reached out, and put your hand on Dean’s thigh, giving it a little squeeze as you smiled at him and nodded slowly.
“Me and Benny had a talk,” you started, “and we agreed that, for one night, you can join in.”
His eyes seemed to lighten up as he grinned, licking his lips. “Really?”
You nodded again, humming softly. “If you want to, yes.”
“There are rules,” Benny said with a soft cough. “First of all, you only get their mouth. Second, you can only be called Dean - Daddy’s my thing. Third, the safe word is California. If you want out, there’s the door.”
Dean shook his head quickly and harshly, licking his lips and shifting in his seat. “No! No! I, I want this.”
Benny nodded curtly at him, clearing his throat and leaning back in his chair. “I’ll allow y’all to start… you good to go, sugar?”
You nodded back at him, tapping your thigh twice. “I’m ready when you are.”
The tap of your thigh cemented to Benny that you were very much okay and ready, and he leaned back a little more as he watched carefully as you leaned in and kissed Dean; it wasn’t the same way that you kissed him, but he knew that that would always be the case.
The way you kissed Benny would always be only for him; but then he watched as Dean laid you down beneath him, slowly undressing you and gently kissing every inch of exposed skin while you told him exactly where and how to touch.
Benny dropped his zipper, letting his trousers fall open as he shrugged out of his suspenders and pulled his fat cock out; slowly stroking it as he watched Dean take control of you. You tapped your thigh twice, knowing that Benny could see.
“Doin’ so well, sugar,” Benny praised. “You gonna take both o’ us at once? Hmm?”
You nodded, softly gasping for breath for a moment as you tried not to whimper. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Good,” he praised again, humming softly when you pushed yourself up against Dean’s mouth as he softly kissed around your nipples. “Look at ‘em, Dean, ain’t they just the most fuckin’ perfect thing you ever saw?”
Dean nodded, humming against your skin for a moment. “I think they’ll be so good at takin’ us both, don’t you, Benny?”
“They take me well enough,” Benny mused. “Don’t ya, darlin’? Tell him how well you take my cock in your nice, tight little asshole, won’t ya?”
You did as you were told, telling Dean all about how well you could take Benny’s cock; how you loved to feel him stretch and fill your ass, and how only he could make you cum properly.
Benny told you to keep going, praising you softly when you told Dean that you practically worshipped his cock, that you would always be happy to be a vampire’s cum dump.
Dean was groaning softly as he nipped and bit along your waist, slowly moving your trousers and boxers down to your ankles as he worked his way down your body, kissing you softly and being careful to go around your arousal.
Benny kept telling you to tell Dean about all the things he did to you - how you were just Benny’s little pet, really, and how you were so, so eager to taste his cum or to let him breed your ass.
“You’re doin’ so well, sugar,” Benny mused as he grabbed the bottle of lube and began to make his way over to the bed. “I think you should be rewarded - don’t ya agree, Dean?”
Dean nodded, immediately backing off and kneeling between your ankles as he cleared his throat and smiled at you. “I think so.”
Benny stripped himself, giving his cock a few good strokes before allowing you to lick the precum from his skin; he could see the glint in your eyes, and when you tapped your thigh twice, he knew that it was time.
Positioning you on your hands and knees with your mouth facing Dean; Benny got on the bed behind you, gently stroking your ass before he gave it a firm smack.
“You ready, now, darlin’?”
You nodded, eager and wanting nothing more than for them both to take you and to fuck you like your life depended on it.
Dean watched in awe as Benny lubed you up, making sure to slowly drag his fingers in and out of your ass with each careful stroke just as much as he made sure to use his fingers in a scissor motion to make sure you were nice and stretched for him. Perfectly ready.
You tapped your thigh twice, and once Dean had his clothes off, you eagerly took him in your mouth, letting him put one hand at the back of your neck and the other on your shoulder as he tilted his head back and sucked in a harsh breath.
Fuck.
Your mouth was so warm and you took him so fucking eagerly, he couldn’t remember the last time he had ever had someone suck his dick like that; he let out a long and drawn out breath, running a hand through his hair and grunting softly.
“Fuck, you’re so good, baby.”
You couldn’t even answer as Benny angled himself up and slowly thrust into you, holding onto your sides as he groaned softly; feeling you immediately push back against him and clench around his fat cock.
Fuck, he filled you up so good that when he started to snap his hips, you rocked back and forth slightly; forcing a moan from the back of your throat as you clenched the mattress beneath you.
Your knuckles clicking loudly as you braced yourself as much as you could; he groaned above you, softly praising you with each and every movement.
“You’re so good.”
You gagged a little as Dean’s dick hit the back of your throat, fucking your mouth with great strokes; your grip on the mattress grew harder as you moaned around him, resulting in him tilting his head back and struggling to hold back the moan that was threatening to leave him as he did his best to praise you as much as he could.
Gently, Dean put his hand on your shoulder and dug his nails into your skin, gritting his teeth and grinding them as he tried to hold himself back as much as he could. 
“Being so good.”
Benny rolled his hips, making sure to hit all your sweet spots as he dug his nails into your skin, almost enough to draw blood as he let out a soft growl of your name; praising you between each thrust, reminding you that he loved you and that you were all his.
Possession was always his thing, he loved to make it known that you were his and only his; even when you were playing with three in the bedroom, Benny still had to make it known that you were his. Only his.
“You’re doin’ so well, sugar, so good.”
Dean bucked his hips hard, making you gag and gulp and gargle until you were very close to tears; he checked in between praises, not wanting you to feel like he didn’t care even though he very much did.
Dean didn’t want you to suffer, but when you licked a stripe under his cock as you pulled away, only to grin and eager take him down to the base again, your nose brushing against his bristling coarse hairs, he moaned loudly.
Gasping out a loud praise as he nodded and let out a soft breath.
“Damn, you really are good!”
“Told ya,” Benny chuckled, licking his lips. “They’re the fuckin’ best little bit of sugar this side of the Mississippi.”
Just to make sure you got the point, he delivered a few thrusts harder than the last, enough to make you rock back and forth and gag slightly; a smug grin on his face when he felt you clench around him, your knees nearly buckling when your legs threatened to give out beneath you.
Benny kept you steady, though, putting his hand on your stomach and keeping you up as much as he could, knowing exactly what he was doing.
“Yeah,” Dean breathed out with a nod, sweat dripping from his brow. “Real fuckin’ good.”
He was struggling, admittedly, knowing that you could taste his precum on your tongue as you winked up at him, moving your head from side to side and running your tongue across every ridge and vein; you seemed to know exactly what he liked, drool spilling from your mouth as you gulped loudly and licked his cock so fucking eagerly.
Fuck, Dean knew he would never be able to keep up - not with you being so fucking good for him and taking him so well.
Benny gave your ass a hard smack before tapping your thighs twice, letting you know that if you wanted to cum, you had his permission to do so; you didn’t seem to care, continuing to fuck yourself against him, desperate and needy for his cock as you whimpered and whined around Dean’s.
You were getting close, and Benny could tell - but fuck, seeing you so eagerly take Dean’s dick was making him get closer to the edge anyway, and knowing how fucking good you had been, Benny wasn’t about to tell you no either. 
“When you’re ready,” he told you. 
It didn’t take Dean very long, letting out a few grunts and growls until he came in your mouth, watching in awe as you swallowed every single droplet before cleaning his cock off; you ran your tongue along your bottom lip, humming softly. 
“He tastes good, Daddy,” you whispered. “Not like you, though.”
Benny grinned smugly, but when he felt your ass clench around him again, he growled out your name, leaning over and sinking his teeth into your shoulder as he came inside you. Fucking his own cum into you as much as he could without spilling a drop.
You weren’t far behind, your legs shaking and tears in your eyes as you whimpered out for Benny; he immediately took your hands in his, praising you softly as your toes curled and your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
Bucking your hips as you shuddered and loudly came; fucking yourself on his cock until you knew that you couldn’t take it anymore and flopped down onto the bed with a contented sigh and a soft grumble.
Completely and utterly spent, as well as stuffed to the brim. You grinned at them both, putting your fist in front of your face and putting your thumb up.
“You alright, sugar?” Benny asked, sitting beside you and running his hand up and down your back.
You nodded, humming softly when he kissed you sweetly. “I’m good, don’t worry.”
Dean cleared his throat, looking between you and Benny. “Should we clean up?”
“You wanna shower with us, darlin’?” Benny questioned softly, and when you agreed, he smiled. “Alright, me an’ Dean’ll run the shower, you just wait here.”
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tiredofthehumanlife · 16 days
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I love polls
Thanks guys
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nicksalchemy1 · 1 month
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Thanks for visiting the universe of a mind I have!! All my works and fandom I write for are listed below.
Here are the fandoms I currently write for:
Supernatural
Big Sky
Supernatural Masterlist
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Big Sky Masterlist
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joviewinchester · 2 years
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Character thinks it’ll be funny to scare their friends by summoning a demon, but then it actually works
“Come on guys. It’ll totally be fun.” Y/N said to Ethan, Sarah, Benny, Erica, and Rory.
“No way. We have enough supernatural encounters without welcoming them.” Ethan said.
“I think it’ll be fun. You guys are just wimps, but we all already knew that.” Erica smirked.
“We aren’t wimps. You don’t think I’m a wimp, right Y/N?” Benny asked.
“Depends on whether or not you agree to this. Let’s make things more interesting. If you three do this with us, I’ll go out with Benny, Sarah will go out with Ethan, and Erica-“
“Absolutely not Y/N! I am not going out with that pathetic excuse for a vampire!” Erica cut her off.
“Oh come on, babe. Don’t be that way. I’ll take you to the Single Tear concert coming up.” Rory said.
“Okay. I’ll do it. Let’s do this thing, Y/N.”
“Oh. I didn’t think I’d get this far. We have to go to a crossroads.” Y/N explained.
“What are we waiting for?! Let’s go!” Benny shouted.
“Benny! I still think this is a bad idea. We don’t know what the consequences of this could possibly be and-“
“Ethan. Come on. Date with Sarah! Keep that in mind. Now come on!” Benny grabbed his arm and dragged a reluctant Ethan to the car along with the rest of them.
They arrived at the crossroad and Y/N slowly began drawing a devil’s trap.
“What’s that?” Erica asked.
“It traps them.”
“I thought you didn’t think this would work and were just trying to scare us.” Sarah laughed.
“This is insurance, Sarah. On the slightest chance that this works, I wanna make sure not to die.”
She pulled a box from her back pocket along with a bag of dirt and bones.
“What the heck is that?” Sarah asked.
“It’s an offering. You have to put it in a hole in the center of the crossroad in order for this to work. The dirt is from a graveyard and the bones are cat bones. Sourced humanely obviously.” Y/N got down on her knees and dug a shallow hole with her hands.
“I could get used to this view.” Benny joked. Y/N whipped her head around.
“Shut the fuck up Benny.” She placed the box in the hole and covered it back up with the dirt.
“Now what?” Sarah asked.
“Now, we wait.” It was only seconds before Erica spoke up.
“This is clearly not working let’s just… holy fucking shit.”
They all looked wide eyed at the man in front of them in the center of the devil’s trap.
“Did someone by the name of Y/N Y/L/N summon me to make a deal?”
Y/N slowly stepped forward. “Hello beautiful, Crowley, King of Hell. Pleased to meet you.” He took her hand and kissed it.
“I-I thought I was summoning a crossroads demon not the king of hell and isn’t king of Hell Lucifer I’m lost.”
“Y/N! Why the fuck are you arguing with the demon?! Are you insane?!” Ethan panicked.
“It’s natural to have questions. Lucifer is locked up at the moment, and I came because I was interested in you particularly.��� Crowley said.
“Me? Why are you interested in me?” Crowley stepped out of the circle and all of their eyes went wide. Crowley circled her like a predator does it’s prey.
“You’re adopted aren’t you, Y/N?”
“Yeah, why?” Crowley chuckled.
“I seem to know your parents. I don’t quite understand why no one has come after you yet. Everyone always loves trying to kill themselves a Winchester. It’s funny, I believe your father is heading here now. Caught wind of some vampires.” Crowley’s gaze shifted toward Erica, Sarah, and Rory.
“Walk with me, darling.” Crowley took her arm and looped it with his.
“Have you always wondered where you came from? Have you always been confused because you didn’t remember much of your childhood? Have people always told you that you were extremely smart for your age? That’s because your mother is the sister of god, and your father? He’s a monster hunter.”
“What? Back up. Sister of god?”
“Her name is Amara. She’ll be here for you soon. Fortunately for you, I’ve been watching you since you were born, and for whatever reason, I feel compelled to protect you. Y/N, you go home tonight, love. You live your semi normal life for as long as you can. I’ll be watching over you. Good luck, darling.”
With that, Crowley vanished leaving Y/N and her friends in a large state of confusion.
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witchygagirl · 6 months
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Supernatural Fics
The Walking Dead, The Boys, Marvel & DCEU
AO3
Like what you've read? want me to try my hand at something else or just want to help a girl out a bit? Buy me a ☕
♡♡♡
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romanarose · 9 months
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Writer Self-Rec Fics Ask Game
Rules: writers list your top 5 favorite fics of yours and then send this to 5 writers! :)
OMG THANK YOU!!!
I'll try to do a diverse portfolio here lol
Boys of Summer: Frankie Morales x benny miller. Over a series of summers, Benny and Frankie fall in love
Marc Spector: Angel, Knight, Protector. This fic never fared very well and I think it's because of the very dark, intense content. Told in present tense, reader recounts all the times Marc Spector saved her. HEAD THE WARNINGS
Leather and Lace: Santiago Garcia x fem!OC. Santi and the gang find a girl in the basement of a drug lord, having been thevictim of sex trafficking. He feels an intrinsic, all consuming need to protect her, both in the physical danger of rescuing and in the journey to recovery as they fall in love.
Lover of the Light: Joel see's you as nothing but sunshine, a light in his darkness. A light he doesn't want to ruin.
Lost in the flood: No one fucking asked for this but it's something I wrote last year, not a fanfiction really but a short story based on a dream I had about James Dean. I know it's not conventional but you don't need to know much about James Dean to read it except he died at 24 in a car crash. If you gave it a read, I'd be honored.
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apocalypseornaw · 2 months
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Dean
In Every Life
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zepskies · 7 months
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Smoke Eater - Part 3
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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.   
AN: Ready for some more ridiculous flirting? lol
🔥 Series Masterlist
Song Inspo: “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie (of Fleetwood Mac) Word Count: 5,800 Tags/Warnings: Mutual pining, fluff, first encounters and first dates
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Part 3: “Got a Hold on Me”
Your gaze drew a path onwards, eventually reaching the other end of the bar.
There you caught sight of red flannel over a black undershirt, familiar broad shoulders, and an even more familiar face. Your eyes widened a fraction as his met yours, gleaming with recognition…and interest.
That slow smile of his was familiar too. It made a lance of heat run down your spine. You gripped the counter, mostly to steady yourself as you let out a breath.
Lieutenant Winchester.
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You couldn’t help but smile back as you met the man’s gaze across the bar.
You recognized his bearded friend, Benny, who leaned over and said something to Dean. You couldn’t hear him, of course, but maybe he was asking a question. Because Dean nodded and said something in reply before he picked up his glass of what looked like whiskey. And he smoothly got up out of his seat.
Anticipation and nerves coiled together in your lower belly. You turned to your friend, who was already sipping at her vodka cranberry.
“Dre, help me,” you pleaded.
Andréa discreetly followed the path of your gaze, and her brows raised. A smirk curved her lips.
“Oh, babe. You need to help yourself,” she replied.
“I haven’t done that in a while,” you admitted. Your dating life had been sorely lacking, between the demands of your job and taking care of things at home. “I’m gonna say something demented.”
Andréa huffed in amusement.
“So? That’s half the fun,” she said. A smile curved her lips. “I think I’m going to go play some pool.”
And with that, your friend abandoned you. She slid off her seat and patted your ass on her way over to one of the pool tables. You watched her go with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. 
“There you go, hun,” said Jo. She slid your drink in front of you. It came in a deep round glass on a stem, with a straw on the side.
“Thanks,” you replied.
You opened the straw and took a small sip to steady yourself, as you saw Dean coming out of the corner of your eye.
You even pretended not to notice the handsome man sliding into the seat next to you. His elbows rested on the counter next to yours, and you finally glanced over at him.
“Can I help you, sir?” you asked. A coquettish smile played at your lips, but you even surprised yourself with your smooth delivery. Inside, you had butterflies.
You didn’t notice the way Jo’s gaze lingered on you and Dean, a frown marring her features. Though she soon moved on to another patron.
And Dean’s attention was solely on you. He gave you a handsome smile, full of charm. You gave him expectant brows. 
“Well, we’ll see. I’ve got a question for you,” he said.
You indulged him with a nod. “Okay. What’s your question, Lieutenant?”  
“Why Girl Scout cookies?” he asked, speaking of the baked goods you’d brought by the firehouse yesterday. “I mean, we’ve gotten cakes, muffins, Krispy Kreme donuts. But I gotta say, we’ve never gotten some bakery-style Trefoils.”
Your smile brightened a bit.
“Who doesn’t like ‘em?” you asked. “I mean, you can walk by their table and be all coy and pretend you’re not going to buy anything, but then you walk away with half a dozen boxes of Thin Mints.”
Dean chuckled, and you enjoyed the way it crinkled the corners of his eyes.
“Or is that just me?” you added, and once again sipped at your drink. 
Meanwhile, Andréa felt a hot gaze on her as she set up the cue balls on the pool table. She allowed it with a subtle smile. If it was the same one she’d crossed paths with earlier when she walked in with you, then she didn’t mind.
She was, however, getting impatient.
“Mind if I join you?”
The pleasant drawl of the man’s voice licked up her spine. When she glanced over her shoulder, her smile widened a fraction. Finally.
“For a game?” she asked. She straightened, brushing a smooth wave of dark hair off her shoulder.
And she turned to meet the bearded man standing casually behind her, resting his glass on the edge of the pool table. The gray of his rolled up, buttoned-down shirt brought out the vivid blue of his eyes. But even though he was tall and broad, he didn’t seem intimidating.
“To start with,” he said. His lips quirked at a smile. “But first, I think it’d be a damn shame if I didn’t ask for your name.”
Andréa’s head tipped to one side as she considered him. She picked up the second pool stick and handed it to him.
“Are you going to ask?” she replied. Her fingers curled around her own stick as she leaned a hip against the table. 
It made him smile. Those eyes of his considered her dress, an earthy green that brought out the hazel in her eyes, warm against her tan skin. But he lingered on her face, full lips and long, dark lashes.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked.
“Andréa,” she answered, and gestured to the pyramid of cue balls. “I’ll even let you go first, if I get your name.”
His smile deepened, and he leaned over beside her to line up his shot. He glanced over and found the challenge in her eyes was more than welcome.
“I’m Benny,” he said. He took the shot without looking at his target, breaking the pyramid and scattering cue balls across the table.
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Back at the bar, your drink and your conversation were both bringing a pleasant buzz to your brain. You nodded along with the music when “Got a Hold on Me” by Christine McVie replaced Boston.
“You’re liftin’ me up,” she sang through the speakers. “Never let me down…and I smile whenever you’re around.”
Dean glanced at you with a small grin, shaking his head.
You couldn’t help but smile back. “What?”
“Nothin’,” he said. “I just didn’t expect to see someone like you here.”
Your brows furrowed. “Someone like me?”
He caught the look on your face, and his turned apologetic.
“Nah, I just mean…this doesn’t seem like your usual vibe,” he said.
You weren’t quite sure how to take that, but you eventually shrugged.
“To be honest, I don’t go out all that much,” you replied. “I like it here though. Good music, good drinks—”
“And good company, I hope,” Dean added in. You allowed that with a smile.
All the while, Christine kept singing.
“I’ve been down. I’ve been used. Now I know, I know, I know, I just can’t lose…”
“So did you guys like the cookies? Or did the Girl Scout thing put you off,” you teased. Dean’s lips quirked.
“Sweetheart, those delectables were gone by end of shift. I’m talking that afternoon. They were easily some of the best cookies I’ve ever tasted…I’m serious,” he said, when you became a bit bashful, and maybe disbelieving.
“I’m tellin’ you, if you had your own bakery, I’d be lining up every damn day,” he said. He then sent you a playfully suspicious look. “Matter of fact, you didn’t just buy those, did you?”
Your smiled warmed as you considered your half-empty glass. Your fingers traced the rim.
“Well, don’t laugh but…I actually went to culinary school,” you said. Dean’s brows rose high at the confession.
“Why would I laugh about that? That’s awesome!” he said. “Why didn’t you become a chef or something?”
Your gaze drifted downwards. “Well…let’s just say, life got in the way.”
His face dimmed a little at that. But you noticed, and you tried to perk up.
“So yes, sir. I baked all five dozen of those cookies with my own two hands,” you said more cheerfully. You raised waving fingers. “I’ve got the burns to prove it.”
You’d actually made a rookie move, trying to move one of the trays before it had sufficiently cooled down. It was bad enough that you had to apply some aloe last night.
Dean made a show of furrowing his brows, with playful concern.    
“Let me see,” he said. He straightened in his seat, acting more “Lieutenant Winchester” as he took your hands and examined your palms and fingers. You blushed, and you bit your lip against a smile as his larger hands handled yours with care.
He did notice the redness on your fingertips, and part of your right palm. He glanced up at you.
“Do they hurt?” he asked.
You blinked at the genuine note in his question.
“Oh, not really,” you said. But you smiled at the fractional raise of his brows. “Well, maybe they still sting a bit, but it’s nothing. I had worse in school, believe me.”
Dean hummed as he considered your hands. Your face heated up further as you tried to get a read on what he was thinking. Was he about to do the cheesy thing and kiss it better? (Though you probably wouldn’t mind, even if he did.)
Instead, Dean reached into his own glass and grabbed an ice cube. After shaking off some excess water droplets, he moved the ice against the pads of your fingers, then down the fading red mark on your palm.
“That feel better?” he asked.
If possible, your blush intensified as your insides warmed and melted like hot butter. It was a sweet, and seemingly earnest gesture that plucked at your heartstrings.
And that was how Dean Winchester got your number before “Got a Hold on Me” ended.
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Andréa was still chatting away at the bar with Benny by the time you decided to call it a night. She understood why you wanted to get home, to check on your grandfather.
You saw a bit of disappointment in Dean’s eyes when you said you needed to go, but he graciously offered to walk you to your car. It was pretty late, after all, and you had more than one reason to agree as he stepped out with you into the night.
You didn’t know if it was the evening chill, or his presence burning beside you that made a small shiver run through you. But once the two of you reached your car, you hesitated and looked up at Dean. You realized that you were reluctant to end this, whatever it was.
He quirked a smile down at you and tucked a wily strand of hair behind your ear.
“It was good to see you,” he said.
“Likewise, Lieutenant,” you replied, with a teasing gleam in your eyes. His were drawn to your face, lowering to your lips.
“Can I see you again?” he asked.
Again, your face warmed. “I think I’d be okay with that.”
His smile grew with his huff of amusement.
“Okay, how about I pick you up tomorrow night?” he offered. “That’s, uh…if you don’t got any plans.”
Your heart was hammering in your chest. Play it cool, for the love of God. Just say yes.
You didn’t usually agree to let a man pick you up on the first date, but something about Dean felt intrinsically trustworthy. Maybe it was the fact that he’d already saved you once this week.
“Sure,” you agreed, sounding more casual than you felt. “What did you have in mind?”
Dean considered that with a thoughtful look.
“Tell you what, let me take you to dinner. Somewhere nice,” he said. His hand raised to thumb at your warm cheek. He couldn’t see your blush, but you were sure he could feel it.
“I like dinner,” you admitted. Though you immediately wanted to slap yourself. Idiot!
Dean just laughed, and your blush turned to one of embarrassment.
“All right. Something we can agree on,” he said in amusement. “I’ll see you tomorrow then. Get home safe, okay, sweetheart?”
You nodded, though you paused, looking up at the indecision on his face. His gaze roamed your face, once again falling to your lips. Nervousness trilled down your spine, though you didn’t know why.
Maybe you were just a coward, but you didn’t wait for him to decide. You just gave him one last smile before you turned from him, unlocking your car with a press of a button on your keys.
“Well, goodnight,” you told him. “See you tomorrow.”
He nodded, stepping back from you. “See you soon.”
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Well, it was tomorrow. And you were trying not to freak the hell out.
“That’s it,” Andréa said. “That’s the one.”
You had her on FaceTime, with your phone propped up on your dresser as you raided your closet.
Your hair was pinned up, your makeup done, and now, she’d helped you find the right outfit—a dress in vibrant emerald green that hugged your curves and fell to about mid-thigh. You smoothed out the straps and twisted to see yourself in the mirror.
“Why’re you frowning. This is perfect!” Andréa said.
“I just…” You sighed, once again trying to tug up the neckline. It was a bit lower than you preferred, but if you remembered right, your friend had encouraged this purchase a while back.
“It isn’t too much, is it?” you asked.
“Not for a first date with a smokin’ hot firefighter, mind the pun,” Andréa teased. “You’re a knockout, babe. He won’t be able to pick up his tongue off the floor…but I’m sure you can find a place for him to put it.”
You spluttered laughing, even after you made a scandalized sound. “You’re ridiculous.”
Still, you knew you could always count on Andréa to hype you up. You appreciated that about her; she was confident without being petty or prideful. And while she never begrudged you for your more cautious approach to things, she did try to get you out of your comfortable shell when you needed it. This, apparently, was one of those times.
You chose a pair of black suede heels Dean hadn’t seen before, along with a few spritzes of perfume in strategic locations on your body.
“Okay, Dean’s supposed to get here at 8:00. Until then, regale me with more about your night with Captain Benjamin Lafitte,” you said, drawing out each word of the man’s name with a suggestive flourish.
Andréa gave a dreamy sigh. She smiled as she sat back against her headboard in bed.
“He was just so…” she trailed, like she was sorting through a collection of memories, savoring each one, all while trying to find a way to distill it all into a simple sentence. She had an artist’s mind, and so tended to romanticize. But you enjoyed the way she spun her stories.
“Earthy, and real, while still being charming,” she said. “I’m pretty sure he let me win the pool game. Which ordinarily would annoy the shit out of me, but when he offered to buy me another drink, I couldn’t say no, and…we talked until the bar closed.”
“Wow.” Your eyes widened as you made the finishing touches on your clipped up hair.
“Right? I’ve never had an experience like that with a perfect stranger,” she said. “I think…I think it was like, one of those connections you hear about, see on TV but never think it happens in real life. I’ll tell you, when we walked into the bar, his eyes were the first thing I saw. And they were the last thing I remember from that night, after he kissed me goodnight…well, more like made out against my car, but you get the idea.”
She smiled as her face became lost in thought. Meanwhile, you tried not to be envious that she’d had more courage than you.
“Are you going to see him again soon?” you asked. Andréa seemed to come back down to Earth at the question, meeting your gaze.
“I think so,” she said. “We’re trying to plan something for next week. He’s also a construction contractor.”
You nodded. “Yeah, Dean was telling me that a lot of them have part-time jobs when they’re not on shift.”
“Does he do anything on the side?” she asked.
“If I remember right, he said he fixes cars sometimes, but I’m not sure if he’s a certified mechanic,” you replied.
“Well, maybe he can spruce up your old-ass Toyota Camry. How long have you had that thing?” she asked.  
You scoffed. “Since college. And it was old then, since I got it used…I think I’ve racked up about 200,000 miles on it.”
Andréa grimaced. “Oh God. You really need a new car, before that thing breaks down on you.”
“That’s what I keep tellin’ her,” said Grandpa George. He appeared in the doorway with a mug of tea. He waved at Andréa on your phone screen. “Hey there, sweetheart.”
“Hey, George. What’re your plans this evening? Go-karting or roller blading?” she teased with a grin.
George matched it with a hearty laugh. Andréa was his favorite.
“Well, I think I’ll start at the roller disco and see where my heart takes me,” he replied. Though he had fond stars in his eyes, and you smiled, knowing what memory he was about to recall.
“Ah, my wife and I met at one of those cheesy-ass places in the ‘70s,” he said. “She was a regular there, had the knee-high socks, the shiny skirt, her long hair whipping around like a rope… I remember she skated past me and knocked me clean onto my ass. I watched her skate away, that little skirt swishing. I think I was half in love right there.”
Your heart twinged, both for yourself and for him, as you could see the sting of melancholy in his eyes. Your grandmother had passed away a few years ago, but it was still deeply painful for both of you.
George shook his head, as if clearing the ghosts of memory from his mind. He looked over at you with a fond smile.
“Well, don’t you look beautiful?” he said. And he reached out for your hand, playfully raising it above your head and twirling you around as you smiled. “Reminds me of when your grandma helped you get ready for the senior prom.”
You snorted at that. “You mean when she almost glued my eyes shut, trying to get those fake lashes on?”
You’d rather pluck out your own eyes than have to ever again go through the “de-gluing process,” as she’d called it.
“It’s a shame we don’t have any pictures of you that night,” George considered. A knowing smile crossed his face. “You looked adorable.”
“I looked like I had a wonky eye,” you retorted. “Why do you think I burned all the evidence?”
Andréa tried not to, but she chortled at your expense. You shot her a narrowed look.
“Careful,” she teased. “Don’t strain yourself, Wonky. You’ve got a better night than prom ahead of you.”
“Speaking of, when’s that boy supposed to pick you up?” George asked.
You let out a breath, slightly nervous as you checked the time on your phone.
“In about ten minutes.”
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“Okay, for the third time,” Sam said, trying his best to be patient. He sat on Dean’s bed while the man stood in front of the bathroom mirror. He was debating the age-old question: tie, or no tie?
“Red wine goes with red meat. White wine goes with chicken and fish,” Sam reminded him. “If you get red, you want to order a bottle of merlot. It’s full bodied without being dry as hell.”
“Yeah, merlot with meat. Got it,” Dean nodded. “What’s white again?”
“Everything else,” Sam said, once again. “If you order white, I’d say go with a pinot grigio. It’s light, can be dry or can be fruity. It all depends on personal preference, but I really like—”
“Well, I’m probably getting steak, so no to pinot,” Dean said. He finally decided on no tie, just a black suit jacket over the dark blue shirt, with a couple of buttons left open at the top.
Sam sighed and gestured at his brother. “And what if she wants fish? What if she hates red wine?”
Dean frowned. “Right. Okay. Pinot or merlot, got it.”
“Always ask to try it first,” Sam added. “Or here’s a thought. You could just be yourself. Order a beer and let her get whatever she wants.”
His frown deepening, Dean shook his head and left his bathroom. He crossed his bedroom to find his shoes—the nice black ones he only wore for weddings and funerals.
“Nah. This girl’s classy, Sam. Can’t half-ass this,” he said. A bit of unease coiled in his stomach, but he tried his best to ignore it.
He couldn’t remember the last time he got nervous to meet a girl…maybe because he hadn’t gone out on an actual “dinner and conversation” date in a while.
Or at least, he didn’t think he could count his dates as real ones.
“You’ll be fine,” Sam said. He could see plainly what his brother didn’t want to admit, only because they knew each other so well.
Dean glanced over at Sam and flickered at a smile. He grabbed his keys, his wallet, and didn’t think he was missing anything…
“Dean,” Sam said. He nodded over at the bundle on the dresser. Dean reached for it and shot his brother a wink.
“Hold the fort, Sammy.”
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His car rumbled to a stop in front of your house just a few minutes late. Dean took a moment to admire the nice-looking beige house with its dark trim, old but still in good condition. And he wondered if you had roommates, or if you lived alone. Maybe you even owned this place. 
He wasn’t sure, as he could only see one car in the driveway (your car, he recognized). He knew he’d need about two or three other roommates to be able to afford this two-story house. 
He straightened his collar and blew out a breath. Get it together, asshole. You’re going on a date, not running into a burning building.
Funny, he’d probably be less nervous with the latter.
You’re not nervous, he reminded himself. You like her, that’s all…yeah.
Rolling his eyes at himself, Dean turned off the car and grabbed his key out of the ignition on his way out. He walked up the red brick path up to the porch and knocked on your door.
His pulse picked up a bit when he heard a pair of heels approaching the door. Soon enough, it opened, and Dean was greeted with a sight. Namely your face, and a smile spreading across it.
Beautiful, he couldn’t help but think, as his gaze dipped to take in the rest of you. He liked the color of your pretty green dress, the soft and classy makeup, the goddamn sexy heels, and the way your hair was pinned up. (Even though it looked so soft, he wanted to see it loose.)
He liked it all, especially that you seemed happy to see him.
“Hey there,” you said, a little breathy, like you’d been hastening down the stairs.
Dean gave you a smile, along with the small bouquet of flowers he’d been hiding behind his back.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said. His smile deepened when you uttered a gasp at the modest bundle of red tulips. “Feel like I should’a gone with something more impressive to match you. You look beautiful.”
You glanced up at him with a sweet smile, but you took the flowers and shook your head.
“No, these are gorgeous. I…can’t remember the last time someone gave me flowers,” you admitted.
It was a bit old-fashioned, but one of Dean’s earliest memories as a kid was seeing his dad come home, late from work as he so often was. But he’d stopped along the way at his mom’s favorite flower shop. He brought her red tulips rather than red roses.
Dean didn’t know why. Maybe that was her favorite flower, or maybe the roses were all out. In his memory though, his mom’s upset faded whenever she saw those flowers.    
“Thank you,” you said warmly, taking Dean out of his thoughts. He flashed you a smile touched with slight embarrassment. He drew a hand through his short hair at the back of his head.
“Well, uh, are you ready?” he asked.
You nodded. “Yep! Just need to grab my purse and put these in some water.”
You welcomed him inside the house while he waited for you to find a vase. Dean took the opportunity to look around from where he stood in the hall. It looked big on the outside, but inside, it looked like a cozy family home. He took in the wood furniture, a paisley couch in the living room, family pictures on the wall and in a China cabinet rather than actual fine China.
It didn’t exactly scream high-powered saleswoman, but maybe you’d inherited it from your family. Or you were going to have it fixed up before you sold it, like some Property Brothers-type action. Or he was reading too much into it entirely, and should just focus on the fact that you’d agreed to go out with him to begin with.
Dean perked up when you returned with your purse on your shoulder and the tulips in a vase, which you set down on the living room coffee table for now. You greeted him again with smile.
“I’ll find a better place for those later, just didn’t want to keep you waiting,” you said.
“You’re good,” he said. He offered you his hand, along with a grin. “I hope you’re hungry though. I know how much you like dinner.”
You giggled, ducking your head in embarrassment. You followed him out the front door.
“If we can forget about that tipsy foot-in-mouth moment, that’d be great,” you said. Dean shook his head.
“Sorry, my mind’s like a steel trap,” he teased, even as he led you down the few steps of your porch in your heels.
“Oh, really?” Your brow raised. “Okay, I’ll remember you said that.”
Dean smirked. “Uh oh. Why do I feel like that one’s gonna bite me in the ass someday?”
“We’ll see,” you replied in amusement. “Future dinners might be on the line here.”
Your eyes widened when you finally saw his car parked behind yours in the driveway. Big and black and sleek and Chevrolet.
“Wow. That’s your car?”
Dean shot you a grin that was somehow proud without being smug.
“You like her?” he asked. He unlocked the car and even opened the passenger side door for you.
Wow again. A rare gentleman. You smiled and obliged him by climbing in.
“I think I do,” you said. Dean got in on his side after closing your door. The doors creaked and the engine rumbled when he turned the ignition. He looked over at you in a way that made your insides both flutter and melt. Anticipation and warmth.
“Think she likes you too,” he said.
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Shit, what did Sam say? Dean stared down the wine menu, which may as well have been a Chinese grocery list, for all he knew.
Red was what? What the hell is a Malbec? Sounds like a kind of fish. That can’t be red wine.
He discreetly raised his gaze above the menu. You were sitting there, pretty much perfect while you looked over the appetizer menu. This was an Italian restaurant. A nice one, and a cut above Dean’s usual dining spots. Neither of you had eaten here before, but you looked vastly more comfortable than he felt. 
“What sounds better to you, clams or bruschetta?” you asked. Your eyes flicked up to his thoughtfully. “You don’t strike me as a clammy kinda guy.”
A smile tugged at his lips. There was a “clam” joke in there somewhere, but he wasn’t sure you’d appreciate it.
“Bruschetta is the toast with little tomatoes, right?” he asked.
“Yep,” you nodded, but then your head tilted as you looked down at the menu again. “Or we could do meatballs. Comes with two—a ball each.”
You bit your lip over a smile, tinged with embarrassment, like you didn't realize what you were saying until you said it.
Dean smirked. Maybe your sense of humor was more in line with his than he expected.
“Well, I don’t typically go for balls, meaty or otherwise. But whatever you want, sweetheart,” he teased. Truth be told, he loved Italian meatballs, but right now, he liked your snort of amusement even more.   
By the time the server, Liam, came to the table, you seemed to know what you wanted, while Dean was still looking over the wine list like it was Calculus homework. 
“Would you like something to drink?” Liam asked.
Dean paused, unsure of how to respond. He glanced at you on reflex. You were waiting for him to say something, he knew. He just wasn’t sure what he could say that didn’t make him look like an idiot.
“I’ll have a glass of this Cabernet Sauvignon,” you replied to the server, and pointed out the name of the wine on the list. He nodded and wrote that down, then turned to Dean next.
“And for you, sir?” Liam asked.
Again, Dean had a conundrum.
He decided to play it safe. “I’ll have the same.”
You eyed him a moment, before you turned back to Liam.
“Can we try it first? See if we like it,” you said.
“Certainly,” he nodded. “Do you want to start with an appetizer?”
“Yes. The meatballs, please,” you replied, glancing at Dean with secret amusement. His lips hinted at a smirk.
When the server left to put in the order, you rested your elbows on the table and folded your hands under your chin.
“Something tells me you’re not big on wine,” you said.
Dean’s smile became more self-deprecating as he tapped a finger on the table.
“That obvious, huh? …Well, can’t say I didn’t try.”
“Dean Winchester.” Your head tilted as you considered him. “Are you trying to impress me?”
“Trying, maybe. Doubt I’m succeeding,” he admitted with a short laugh.
You let out a small sigh, but you didn’t look disappointed.
“I just want to get to know you,” you said. “You don’t have to woo me or anything.”
His brow rose in a subtle challenge. “What if you deserve a bit of wooing?”
You glanced down then, with a pretty blush beginning to dust your cheeks. He could still spot it in the dim lamplight, and it made him smile.
“I get what you’re saying,” he inclined his head. “I just have a feeling the guys you go out with know how to order a bottle of wine, at least.”
You met his gaze at that. Your brows drew together, and it wasn’t until that that you realized what Dean seemed to be thinking. Like you were somehow better than him, or out of his league. While that was incredibly flattering (and downright surprising), it just wasn’t true, you felt.
You’d been nervous as hell up until this point, convinced that this man’s interest was half because he’d saved you. Because really, between the cut of that jaw, that smile, and those eyes, he could have anyone. And yet, he’d noticed you.
So now, you gained enough courage to reach across the table and rest your hand over his. It earned his attention.
“Look, Dean,” you said. “You don’t know anything about the kind of guys I go out with, so why don’t you just try to get to know me, instead of being whatever you think I want?”
There was a challenge in your eyes, but your smile softened it, along with your hand in his. Dean curled his fingers around your hand, and he nodded.
“That’s fair,” he said. His thumb drew across the back of your hand as he considered what you’d said. He realized he wasn’t being fair…
“See, women tend to like the firefighter thing, until they don’t,” he said. 
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Well, after a little while, it’s like the shine wears off,” Dean admitted. “Between the long, sometimes inconsistent hours, the weight of the job… It’s either too much, or not enough, you know?”
As much as that disheartened you to hear, you kind of understood what he was saying. First responders led challenging lives, and you could imagine how hard it would be to maintain relationships—from family and friends to lovers. And when he met your eyes, you had a feeling you knew what he was really saying underneath.
It’s not enough…or he’s not enough?
You frowned and squeezed his hand.
“That must make it hard to find a real connection with someone,” you said.
Dean read the look in your eyes: sympathetic, but not pitying. He appreciated that, and you right now. But he was also getting a bit embarrassed. Good job, Mr. Overshare.
He let go of your hand just to lean back in his seat and card his fingers through his hair. He blew out a breath.
“Sorry. Don’t know why I’m saying all this crap,” he said with a chuckle.
You smiled and crossed your arms on the table. “It’s not crap.”
He gave you a wry smile.
This Dean is not what I expected, you thought. He was all panty-dropping smiles and one-liners, until he wasn’t. Behold, the softie underneath.
Liam soon returned with two glasses with a sample of the wine you’d requested. Dean took his glass, but waited a moment to watch you bring yours up to your face. You inhaled first before you took an experimental sip. You smiled and hummed at the taste. It led Dean to sip his as well.
He immediately made a face at the bitter, strong taste that razed across his tastebuds. He was used to the burn of alcohol, but this was just gross.
That’s when he caught that look on your face—a small smile as you gauged his reaction.
“Refreshing,” Dean quipped. And dry as hell.
“You want a beer instead?” you asked.
“Definitely,” Dean nodded, looking up at Liam. “Heineken, if you please.”
“That I can do.” The other man quirked a smile. “And for you, miss?”
You tapped on the rim of your wine glass. “A glass of this please. Thank you.”
“Absolutely,” Liam replied. “I’ll bring those shortly.”
Dean watched you with a smile. You caught him at it and smiled back questioningly.
“What?” you asked.
He shook his head. “Nothin’.”
He liked the way you carried yourself. Smart and classy, without being a snob. Confident and sexy at times, while shy and freakin’ adorable at others…
Damn, Dean thought. He liked you. He did.
And he didn’t want to admit it, but that kind of scared him.
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AN: Hohoo, so believe it or not, this is just part 1 of the first date! The rest is to come in the next chapter. But how did you like this so far?
Next Time:
You watched him curiously as he shrugged out of his jacket. He wrapped it around your shoulders, like this was some kind of Hallmark moment.
Heh. Can’t believe Meg had it right, he thought, as he caught your blush.
“Thanks,” you said softly.
“Can’t let you catch cold in this little dress,” Dean reasoned.
He gently tugged you in closer by the ends of his jacket. Once again, his gaze was drawn to your face, your eyes, and finally your lips. You still held both ice cream cones between you two, but he could be careful enough to sample something else.
He started to lean in…
Keep Reading: PART 4
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
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@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420
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nescaveckwriter · 3 months
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Don't Leave Me
Dean Winchester x Reader 🐞
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Summary: Dean, did the unthinkable, and cheated on you, on your anniversary.
A/N: Oh yay, I'm so excited, not only my first one shot, but also my first one done for the bingo @jacklesversebingo 🐞❤️💕 I'm just so excited to hear what y'all think. Much love my bugsies 🐞
Line: I don't really hate you, but I hate what you have done to us!
Warnings: Angst, A Lot of Angst! 🤔 Sorry about that😱
Word Count: Honestly no idea😱 will check next time🤩
Cover Art: Done by me 🐞 and the pic's from Pinterest and Canva 💕
Characters: Dean Winchester, Mention of Sam, and you❤️
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"No Dean" I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"You don't get to look at me like that" I sniffed
"How could you do this to us?" Anger and sadness visible on my face
"Baby Listen" his voice low
With my hands on his muscular chest I shove him backwards, screaming now, "I don't need too listen, dammit, nothing you say is going to change a thing"
His emerald green eyes, is welled up, "just listen please" barely audible
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"I hate you Dean" I say while throwing the ring on the floor
Taking a suitcase from the closet, tossing in any clothes I can find.
"You're leaving babe?" the distraught look on his face, caught you off guard
"Don't look at me like that, its your fault" you shove him out of the way walking to the bathroom to grab your toiletries.
He grabs ahold of your arm, spinning you around, and into his chest, "let me go," making my hands into small fist's, hitting against him, though it's not really doing anything.
His eyes pleading "sweetheart, please just listen to me, it didn't mean anything"
Squinting your eyes, "it didn't mean anything? Don't lie to me, Dean"
"I'm sorry" he claimed
"Yeah, your sorry I found out" I sneered
His jaw clenches, "no, babe, I'm serious it didn't mean a damn thing"
"Great so you threw all of this away for nothing" I smirked
"I was drunk okay! I didn't know what I were doing" his face full of guilt
Laughing a little "that's a lame excuse if I ever heard one"
You can't stand to be this close to him, hearing his heart beating, the way he looks into your eyes, the way his arms is holding you, you always were so weak when it came to him, it always were like some sort of special gift he had, making you putty in his big hands. But not today, not know, not after what he's done.
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Trying to get out of his tight grip, you try to shove him backwards again, but he just holds you tightly, his voice revealing the sadness "do you really hate me"
Searching his face, his emerald green eyes, now, almost hazel like. Your voice brittle, tears streaming down my face "No, I... I don't really hate you, but I hate what you have done to us"
He thumbs away some of the tears, letting out a whisper, "I'm so sorry sweetheart"
"Sorry, just sorry, it won't work" you whisper - scream
"Then what will, baby" he asks
"I don't know,! nothing! The day you slid that ring on my finger, you swore you'll never betray me, break my trust, or trash my heart, guess what you did" getting angry all over again now "how could you" and with that you get out of his grip
Realising what he did, he just stood there, not making a sound, just listening to the sound of her crying, crying he caused. "Dammit" he cursed underneath his breath.
Taking her suitcase she walks out of their shared room, right to the door, glancing over the house she called home for the past five years, the memories they shared, the laughter, it's all gone now, in one night, he managed to erase five years of their lives together.
Dean runs towards her, "Baby wait, just stay, it's 3 in the morning, you can't drive like this" concern in his husky voice.
Glaring at him, "don't act like you care, if you did, you would have known, what yesterday was"
Dean, looks at her puzzled, following her eyes to the kitchen, he's jaw dropped when he saw the kitchen table, set and decorated for two, candles, placed with champagne flutes, and a bottle that was supposed to be on ice, a freshly baked pie in the middle.
"Babe, I'm"
"Don't finish that sentence, I'm so sick and tired of your sorries," I warned.
"I can't believe I was so naive, yesterday when you didn't show, I called Sam, he said as far as he knew you went for a drink, the case you worked on hit you hard, I was afraid you had to much to drink, and maybe gotten in a accident, but to my surprise, I found you with that... that, woman, her arms wrapped around you having a good time, how the hell could you do that to us, to me?" I screamed
"Babe, it meant nothing, I love you"
Tears flooded down my cheeks "no! Dean! You do not love me" you mumbled, "goodbye Dean"
"Please baby, don't go, don't leave me" he pleaded
He grabs a hold of your wrist, but you shake it loose, almost running towards your car, hearing him say something in the distance, but you reply with a shout "don't you follow me Dean Winchester" and with that you started the engine, put it in drive and drove off
In your rearview mirror, you see the man you loved, still love, standing there distraught look on his face, the blurriness of your glazed up eyes, makes it hard to focus on the road ahead, but you just drove further anyway, not wanting to stay there, the way he made you feel, the hurt, pain and betrayal is just to much.
Seeing taillights of her car, is just one too much, how is he going to fix this, why did he do what he did, "what am I gonna do" throwing a punch in the air.
He just stood there in the pouring rain, watching as the love of his life, went further and further out of his reach.
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That's when he heard the tires screeching on the wet road, and then the heart wrecking loud noise, he just some how knew it was her. He ran, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.
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"Noooooo!" Screaming as he got closer, her car hanging over the road barrier, "Baby," he grabs ahold of her hand, her face bloodied, her legs pinned, her eyes, bloodshot from the crying, "Dean" she whispers with pain. "I'm here sweetheart, don't leave me, I love you" a half smile on his plum lips. With the closing of her eyes she whispers "I love you too Dean"
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houseforwhores · 2 years
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omg do y’all ever just think about your favorite fictional character and you’re trying to do something like:
brain: ff/c.
me: okay but what abo-
brain: ff/c.
me: but it seems pretty imp-
brain: FF/C!🙄
me: oh okay yeah 😌*daydreams about spending time with them* (getting railed 😷😷) KIDDING (!?!)
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heymickyursofine · 3 months
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Who I write for - Dean Brannock (The Watcher), Benny Weir (Mbav), Older!Daniel Larusso (Cobra Kai), Older!Jeff Sadecki (Yellowjackets), Ajax Petropolus (Wednesday), Irwin M. Fletcher (Fletch), James "Mac" Mackreides (The Meg 1 & 2), Catherine Tramell (Basic Instinct 1992), Carter Davis (Happy Death Day).
Rules - If I ever write for a real person it probably won't be accurate or as accurate to their personality irl, I'm still iffy on writing for real people. This list will probably change as I watch more TV and develop hyperfixations.
Extra info - If I choose not to write a request please respect that and forgive me, sometimes not all prompts work for me and I don’t know where to go with it. Also bear with me as I write I might take a bit to get requests done, I'm in school. But I will try to hurry and get them done asap.
— I write for GN reader or Fem reader, but not Male reader. When requesting please state if you want the reader to be female or gender neutral!
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