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#from the kitchen of benny lafitte
suppernatural · 1 year
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Benny's Chicken Sausage Gumbo
I wanted to dedicate my first recipe post to my friend Benny who is from the Lafayette area and took the time to come over and teach me how to make chicken and sausage gumbo recently—which was a real labor of love, because gumbo is NOT quick or easy to make. But he's one of the coolest and nicest people I've ever met, and he loves to cook, and he wanted to make sure I had the good stuff, so he was happy to teach me... in fact, he said he'd be happy to come again and teach me some more Louisiana recipes in the future.
Now if you've ever had gumbo NOT in Louisiana, Benny says you may not have ever had a good gumbo, so don't judge gumbos as a whole based on that one gumbo you ate at some random restaurant once. Benny says the world is FULL of crap gumbos that just don't taste right, because it's very hard to get gumbo right! He also told me there are many variations on gumbo that are very normal even within Louisiana, and they are all delicious when they are done right, and this is just the kind he makes because of the area he was born. So if you want the good stuff, you just gotta go to the right place. The very best place to get gumbo, Benny says, is in a Louisianian's home... because then you know it's made with love, and is probably made by a recipe passed down through generations.
Now there are three main components to a chicken sausage gumbo the way Benny makes it:
The roux. This is the most time consuming and difficult part to get right but also the most important part and the part people are most likely to fuck up according to Benny.
The meat. Chicken and sausage. You wanna use chicken thighs if you can get 'em and andouille sausage if possible. However, many varieties of sausage are acceptable. Just be aware the sausage is part of what flavors your gumbo, so pick a good one!
What's referred to as the holy trinity in Louisiana cooking: yellow onions, green bell peppers, and celery. Garlic, Benny says, is also a given in ANY Louisiana dish (and luckily he isn't actually allergic though some people in his life might think that).
Here's all the supplies you're gonna need:
A big ass pot and a spoon and a ladle. Benny says gumbo takes forever, so if you're going to make it, you might as well make a shit ton of it so that either you can feed a whole bunch of people, or, because it'll freeze real well, you can do that.
A cast iron skillet or dutch oven and a whisk or a flat bottom wooden spoon. This is for making the roux.
A knife and cutting board for chopping all your shit up.
A strainer to strain your broth.
Ingredients List
1 cup oil
1 cup flour
4 lbs of chicken thighs
1 Ibs link sausage
3-4 bay leaves
several garlic cloves
large yellow onion, chopped (2 to 3 cups)
2 to 3 celery stalks, chopped
green bell pepper, chopped
2-3 Tbsp minced garlic
Salt to taste
black pepper to taste
red pepper to taste (or cajun seasoning)
Instructions:
First, the roux:
Whisk together the oil and flour in a cast iron skillet or dutch oven. Now, you wanna turn the heat on your burner to medium—never higher or lower than that! And then you just start stirring—and you keep stirring and stirring and stirring constantly... for like 30 minutes to an hour. You need that flat bottomed spoon (or your whisk works) so you can scrape the bottom and sides of the pot/skillet on repeat so nothing sticks and burns. You constantly gotta be scraping your roux off the bottom and sides of the pot. If you stop, the roux will BURN and you cannot let that happen or you have to start over, okay? You DO however, want it to get darker and darker. It'll start a milky white, and where you stop does depend on personal taste, but Benny says he considers his done when it's the color of a Hershey bar. Remember that your cast iron is going to stay hot after you turn the heat off, so turn the fire off a little before you think you should and continue to stir until your pot has cooled enough that it isn't cooking your roux anymore or you will STILL burn it! This is why this is the hardest part of making gumbo. The roux is easy to burn!
Second, the broth and the holy trinity:
Dump all your chicken in that big ass pot with about 12 cups of water, along with the bay leaves and some halved garlic cloves. Bring all of that to a boil, then turn down to low, cover, and let it simmer for about 30 minutes to an hour (until your chicken is boiled through). You will need to remove the fat that bubbles to the surface as you boil the chicken.
While that's going, dice up all your vegetables (onions, celery, green bell pepper, and MORE garlic—this time minced).
When your chicken is boiled through (but hopefully before it turns stringy—you don't want that!) remove it from your pot and set it aside somewhere, then pour your broth through a strainer to get rid of any more bits of skin or fat from the chicken. You wanna have about 12 cups of broth, so if you don't have enough, if you've gotta, you can add some chicken broth you have stored somewhere or from the store. Pour the broth back in your big pot and bring it to a boil, then dump all the vegetables you diced up in there (onion, celery, green bell pepper, garlic) AND the roux.
Turn the heat to low and let it all simmer for about an hour. While it's cooking in there, you add the sausage so it adds flavor, so...
Third, the meat:
Slice your sausage up into little… medallions? (You know what I'm talking about—how you usually cut link sausage) and cook it in a skillet just to brown it and remove some of the fat, then add it to the gumbo so it can add some more flavor to that simmering broth and roux. Continue to cook on low.
Now when your simmering time is over, you'll nearly be done, so when it's close to time, dice up your chicken into pieces (and debone of course if you used bone-in thighs). Kitchen shears are also good for this but a knife will also do you just fine.
Now add the salt, black pepper, and red pepper to taste (Benny was very generous—this ain't one of those "just a little salt" type deals). You can also put cajun seasoning in there. Add your chopped chicken into the pot and simmer for about 20 more minutes, and it'll be ready to serve.
Gumbo is best served with rice (I don't mean like a gravy type deal—this is a soup! But you often put rice in that soup!) and some french bread, which tastes fucking awesome dipped in that broth.
Gumbo freezes well, and you can also make a big batch of roux ahead and keep it in a jar in your fridge if you want, so it's possible to prep that ahead so you don't spend so long preparing it all in one day. Anyway, there you go! That’s Benny’s chicken and sausage gumbo!
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zepskies · 1 year
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Smoke Eater - Part 2
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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: I was overwhelmed by the response on Part 1 (in the BEST way). 🥹 Thank you so much for everyone who read and sent me your lovely amazing comments! Here's Part 2 a bit early for ya. 😘
🔥 Series Masterlist
Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: Idiots flirting, with a side of sexual harassment. 😪
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Part 2: "Lieutenant Winchester"
Firehouse 25 was just as much a house as it was a home.
Especially for Dean Winchester.
In the common room, he sat down at his preferred corner of the sofa with a cup of coffee. By now, the guys knew this was his spot, perfectly angled toward the new flatscreen TV someone donated last month.
Up until then, they’d had to hotwire the same tank from 1995, which had only got basic cable. Now at least the newer smart TV came with a subscription to Netflix, courtesy of the donor. 
Dean raised his favorite Batman mug to his face, expecting to imbibe some rich dark roast. What he got was a travesty.
Spitting out the brown soil water back into the mug, he coughed and grimaced.
“Jack!” he called out.
Jack Kline, the newest addition to the house, raised his head from where he was trying to scramble eggs in the open kitchen directly behind the couch.
“Yes, Lieutenant?” he replied.
“Why does this coffee taste like ass?” Dean asked. His voice was still gruff with sleep, as he depended on his morning coffee to wake him up, not assault his tongue.
Behind him, Jack blinked in confusion. “Uh…”
Dean finally turned around and gave the younger man a raised brow.
“What brand did you buy, Candidate?” he asked.
A candidate was a freshly graduated firefighter on probation. They were the rookie, the bottom rung of the totem pole, and Jack was that proverbial whipping post.
“Um…” Jack went to find the coffee canister he’d put away in the cupboards. He showed Dean the red plastic jug. “Folgers. It was on sale.”
“Fuck me,” Dean muttered. “Never Folgers, Candidate. Anything but fucking Folgers. The one thing we don’t skimp out on is quality joe.”
“That ain’t nothin’ but dirt water, son,” Benny remarked, as he and Gordon entered the common room. Benny held a to-go mug he’d brought from home. After he’d seen what Jack brought for groceries yesterday, he’d taken no chances.
“What you wanna get is Gevalia,” Benny added.
“That European crap?” said Gordon. He took his usual spot at the dining table, leaning back in his chair. It left Benny to sit at the other end of the couch with Dean.
“Better than that piss water you drink,” Benny said with a smirk. Gordon raised a brow at him.
“Tea is medicinal, jackass.” The Black man raised a finger to punctuate his point. “It’s good for you. Unlike that carburetor fluid y’all drink.”
“Whatever, man,” Dean said, even though a grin edged at his lips. “All I know is, we need premium coffee, stat. Or it’s gonna be a cranky shift.”
“I can go to the store real quick,” Jack offered.
Say what you want about the kid’s poor taste in grocery buying, he was always willing to jump in when you needed him.
“Nah, stay on breakfast,” said Dean. “I’ll go afterwards. But remember, today you’re practicing rappelling drills.”
Jack nodded. “And lunch duty. And helping clean the truck, and all the bathrooms…did I miss anything?”
Dean shared a look with Gordon. Not only did he drive the truck, but he was one of the men Dean relied on most, as he had the next highest seniority on the job out of the whole firehouse.
Well, except for Benny Lafitte, Captain of the Rescue Squad. Squad members were considered specialists in complex rescue situations. They were highly trained on more sophisticated technical rescue equipment and rappelling, even scuba diving.
It took long years for a firefighter to make it onto Squad; something that Dean used to have ambitions for. But ever since he got promoted to Lieutenant on Truck 79, he realized that his role in this house was best served on the Truck, not on Squad.
“If he gets through all that, Meg might have something for him too,” Gordon said.
“Oh, don’t bring me into this,” remarked a droll voice. “I’ve already got one pound puppy to look after.”
Their Paramedic in Charge strode in with Chuck on her heels. They’d just pulled into the firehouse driveway on Ambulance 7.
“Nice. That’s how you talk about your partner of three years?” Chuck said with a frown. Meg turned to him with a wry grin.
“Only the ones who can hack it on my Ambo,” she replied. “What can I say. You’re special, Shurley. Either that, or a glutton for punishment.”
Gordon shook his head and looked over at Jack.
“Careful with that one. She chewed and hacked out her last partner in under a month.”
“Poor guy didn’t even transfer,” Dean added, making a “flatlining” motion with his hand. “He just quit. Dropped out of the Fire Academy that same day.”
Not all firefighters were made through Meg’s department, but it was a common route, working as a paramedic while getting put through your paces in the Fire Academy. Dean himself had gone straight to the Academy after getting his EMT certification.
But at Dean’s words, Jack’s eyes widened a fraction. Meg turned to him with an almost feline smile. 
“How was the call?” Benny asked her, speaking of the job they’d just returned from. Meg’s expression dimmed a little, as did Chuck’s as they both sat down at the table.
“Ah, just Henry again,” she said. “Overdosed on his insulin.”
Benny frowned, while Dean shook his head. Jack’s brows furrowed.
“Who’s Henry?” he asked.
Meg sat back in her chair with a subtle sigh. Knowing his work partner’s mood, Chuck answered the young man’s question.
“He’s homeless, lives by the river,” he said. “He’s one of our ‘regulars,’ you could say. When we get the call, usually he’s passed out. Dehydration. But sometimes it’s more serious.”
“You can’t take him to the hospital?” Jack asked in concern.
“Today we did,” Meg said. Her brown eyes met Jack’s, her mouth in a thin line. “But without health insurance, there’s only so much they can do after they get him stable.”
That fell a bit heavily into the room. It wasn’t a pleasant fact, but it was the reality. Jack was learning more and more about that aspect of this job, and learning if he could handle the darker shades of what it could bring.
“Well, breakfast is ready,” he said, bringing a large plate of eggs and toast onto the counter. Dean tossed him an appreciative half-smile and got up from the couch.
“Thanks, kid,” he said, walking over along with everyone else. He took a moment to pat Jack on the shoulder.
“What do you want to do first: run drills, or help me and Gordon wash the truck?” Dean asked.
Jack looked up with a smile. “Can we run drills first?”
Dean nodded, grinning back at him. “Good answer.”
The rest of the Truck and Squad crews ambled in at both the announcement and the smell of food. And before long, the common room was filled with conversation, good-natured teasing, and shitty coffee all around.   
From his vantage point facing the open door to the driveway, Benny caught sight of a young woman heading towards the double doors with a large tupperware bin in hand. Bonnie the receptionist happened to be coming in at the same time. You asked her a question Benny couldn’t quite hear.
“Dean… Oh, you’re looking for Lieutenant Winchester?” Bonnie asked. Her voice tended to carry. “Right in there, hun.”
“Well, that sure is interesting,” Benny murmured with a smile. He glanced over slyly at his friend. “Heads up, brother.”
Dean looked up from his plate of eggs expectantly. Benny gestured over with his eyes, just as you walked into the firehouse, both cautious and unsure of where you were going.
Dean’s brows raised. He found himself setting down his plate and getting up from the couch before he really knew what he was doing.
You looked exactly how he remembered. Though this time, you weren’t coffee stained in your professional blouse and black pencil skirt. His attention drew briefly downwards to your heels, this time solid black (and even taller than the last pair, damn).
He noticed all the same things he had last time: the shade of your hair, pinned up again with a clip as stray pieces framed your face. The way you carried yourself when you finally saw him, straightening with a subtle confidence in your shoulders, even though you looked a bit nervous. And the pretty curve of your lips when your eyes found his.
“Hey, there,” Dean said. He gave you one of his trademark smiles. “Good to see you again.”
“Uh, hi,” you said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I guess I don’t have to ask if you remember me.”
Dean nodded. “‘Course I do. What can I do for you?”
Your face seemed to freeze up a bit as you looked up at him.
“Oh, um, nothing really. I just wanted to say thank you, again,” you said. And you glanced past him, where the rest of the firehouse members were discreetly watching. “All of you, actually. And my friend told me that firefighters really like food…but, I mean, doesn’t everyone?”
You laughed a little, in a nervous way that made Dean struggle not to smile too much.
“Anyway, I like to bake,” you twittered on, “and I had some time this week after…well, you know what happened. So…I brought this!”
You raised up your tupperware with a smile.
And you were damn adorable, Dean thought. His own smile deepened as he glanced down at the offering, then at you. He took the container and opened the lid, and was honestly surprised at what he saw.
He could’ve sworn these were Bonafede, just-poured-out-of-the-box Girl Scout cookies. Dozens of them. He saw shortbreads (complete with the little wavy lines), Samoa cookies with the coconut flakes, and even what looked like chocolate covered Thin Mints. They also smelled delicious.
“Wow. Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, with genuine warmth. “I’m pretty sure the guys are gonna tear these apart the second I put ‘em down.”
Your face brightened, and Dean noticed how it reached your eyes with a bit of a blush.
“Well, I hope you guys enjoy,” you said. Your hands fiddled with your purse next.
“Heading off to work now?” he asked.
“Yep,” you nodded, with a certain glint in your eye. “I plan on taking the stairs this time.”
Dean raised a brow. “All 22 floors?”
“Gotta get my steps in somehow,” you joked. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to become a repeat offender, make you guys come all the way back across town again.”
“Aw, I wouldn’t mind,” he said, meeting your eyes. And he found that he meant it. In fact, he didn’t think he’d mind if your building’s elevator broke down every damn week.
Your expression shifted towards amusement. “Well, you must be very dedicated to your job.”
“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”
“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.
He chuckled. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”
“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”
Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you. He had half a mind to heed his instincts, to take advantage of the signals he thought you were sending him, and ask if he could take you out sometime.
But it was unprofessional here at the firehouse (not that that had stopped him before). He’d been making efforts to curb that kind of behavior for the past few months.
He also remembered the 30 floors of your massive, fancy office building. He considered the price tags that probably came with the admittedly sexy, high-powered corporate look you had going on. Those were probably a lot more zeros than he was used to seeing on his paycheck.
So for once, he didn’t pull the trigger.
“Well, thanks. I really do appreciate that,” Dean replied. His smile then was more sincere, if also more professional. He gestured at the container in his hand. “And on behalf of all the guys, thanks for this too.”
“You’re welcome,” you replied. “I have to go, but…thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester.”
“Ah,” he shook his head, “just call me Dean.”
You agreed by smiling, just a little bit more.
“Dean.”
He nodded back, sending you off with a smile of his own. He forced himself to taper it down after you left, and he had to turn around to meet his friends. Their grins reminded him of piranhas.
“All right. Out with it, you freakin’ jackals.” He waved his free hand in a “bring it on” gesture.
Meg was the first one to burst out laughing. It spearheaded the rest of them, whooping and catcalling and generally being menaces. Even Jack was grinning at his lieutenant’s expense.
Meg got up from her seat and bumped Dean’s shoulder on her way to the kitchen, where she dumped her dishes.
“Thanks again, Lieutenant Winchester,” she mocked in a saccharine sweet voice. Then she lowered it into an exaggerated mimic of his deeper one, “Call me Dean, baby girl. Fucking priceless. You should get your own Hallmark movie.”
Dean rolled his eyes. He’d been prepared for this, but his face was still getting warm.
“Shut up, Meg,” he tossed back. They all had an ongoing Family Guy joke that never failed to make their PIC narrow her eyes. And she did so now, giving him a fake grimace as she left the kitchen.
“All right, kiddos. If you need me, don’t,” she said. “Chuck! Let’s sort the ambo’s inventory.”
“Got it,” her partner nodded. He too got up and placed his dishes in the sink before he took off after Meg.
This left Dean with the rest of the guys, who still gave him knowing smiles as he set your bin of cookies down on the table. He blew out a breath before he returned to the couch and sat down heavily across from Benny and Gordon.
“I never thought I’d see the day that Dean Winchester bitched out,” Gordon remarked.
Once again, Dean rolled his eyes.
“Truly incredible,” Benny added. He shook his head when Dean just crossed his arms. “She was eying you like a pork cutlet, and you just let her walk outta here.”
“We’re in the house, guys. What was I supposed to do?” Dean groused.
Benny and Gordon looked at him like he’d just denounced Led Zeppelin (his favorite band of all time). 
“Get her goddamn number, Winchester,” said Gordon. The man’s lips curved. “Or at least, introduce her to a brother.”
Dean shot him a glance. Gordon Walker was damn good at driving the truck, but he was also known for being a hunter of the ladies himself.   
“She seemed nice,” Jack put his two cents in with a smile. He was standing behind the couch, leaning his elbows on it. Gordon scoffed, nodding his agreement.
“Yeah, with a fat ass too,” he said, sipping his tea. 
Benny reached over and hit his shoulder to shut him up. 
“That’s a lady, Gordon,” he said. Though a suspect smile graced his lips as he glanced at Dean. “A lady with a nice ass.” 
Dean shook his head, but he couldn’t disagree. The first time he met you, he’d been impressed by the way you stood your ground with your asshole boss. Dean thought you were going to chuck that lethal looking heel at the guy. But behind that steely exterior was a kind little softie.
Today, he got your sweet side. It was equal parts sexy and adorable. 
And damn if you didn’t have a nice ass, nice curves, and a nice mouth. 
But your eyes, he thought. Those were nothing short of beautiful. 
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About twenty minutes across town, an apartment building was swarmed by police cars. One unit in particular was sealed off with yellow caution tape as a team of officers drifted in and out. 
What a fucked way to die.
Detective John Winchester observed the unnatural angle that the victim—Jerry Stillwell, a certified public accountant—had his throat cut with a jagged weapon.
It hadn’t been clean in the least. And he’d bled out across his work desk and a stack of papers, as well as his desktop computer. He was 45, unmarried, and murdered in his own home in the middle of a Friday afternoon.
The computer wouldn’t turn on, and not because of the blood. It had been wiped with magnetized technology, most likely by the intruder. Though there was no sign of forced entry, according to John’s partner. The murder weapon was missing as well, though it looked like a knife wound.
John leaned over the on-site medical examiner’s shoulder to peer closer at the man’s wounds. Stillwell had most likely been grabbed from behind. So far, the signs pointed to the culprit being someone the victim knew.
They probably took Stillwell by surprise, but he was a large man. If John had to guess, over 250 pounds, unathletic, but still, not easy to overpower. Likely the suspect was a man over 6 feet; strong, and efficient. Though the messiness of the kill made John think this guy took "pride" his work, so to speak.
“Signs of struggle,” said the M.E. “Skin under the fingernails. He fought back, and…huh.”
John’s interest piqued at the man’s shift in tone. “What?”
“Take a look at this.” The M.E. was holding Stillwell’s right hand, palm-up, revealing a small burn on the inside of the wrist. John’s gaze sharpened on the mark.
“Cas, come here,” he said. Across the room, Detective Cas Novak paused in his task of examining the entry points of the apartment to join John at his side. His blue eyes widened a fraction at seeing the burn. It was a symbol of a snake eating its own tail.
“That makes four,” Cas said.
“Yep. We’ve got ourselves a murder cluster,” John said. Cas nodded. He beckoned John to the side, making sure the M.E. was out of earshot before he spoke. “Isn’t it time we brought Sam up to speed on this, at least?”
John’s brows furrowed.
“No,” he said. “Sam’s an ADA. We don’t go to him until we have someone to indict.”
He walked away from Cas, who frowned. John knew damn well that wasn’t what he meant. This was the fourth murder within six months of this nature. The fourth to be branded with the mark of Azazel…a criminal who supposedly disappeared decades ago.
Shortly after November 2, 1983, the day of Mary Winchester’s death.
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Seeing Dean again had gone better than you thought it would. It left you feeling light and downright cheerful when you left the firehouse this morning. Unfortunately, the great start to your morning only crumbled when you reached your office.
Now, even at the end of your day, finally back at home and in the familiarity of your kitchen, the tension headache was back.
“Dre, I’m tired. Can’t we do this another night?” you asked.
Your cell phone was balanced between your ear and your shoulder as you counted out your grandfather’s pills, and placed them in each “Monday through Sunday” box in the blue container.
“No, we absolutely cannot. Because today was horrific,” Andréa said. “For me, because my coworker decided to play hookie on the day our top account needed the mockups of their new website. Never mind that she hadn’t even started.”
Pause for an aggravated breath, through which you frowned in sympathy. She’d told you the entire story over lunch today.
“And for you, because Nick once again displayed why he’s a subhuman neanderthal, in spectacular fashion,” she added.
Your grimace deepened at the reminder.
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Earlier today, just before a sales meeting you were set to lead, you’d turned away from the conference table to set up the projector. Nick was early for once, making it just him and you in the room.
He’d sat back in his chair and uttered a remark that set the hairs on the back of your neck on end.
“I’ll tell you what, babe. You sure know how to wear a skirt.”
Your back straightened, and slowly you turned. Your face was set in stone, save for a solitary raise of your brow.
“Excuse me?”
Nick’s smirk was lazy as he kicked his feet up on the table. His hand held a tumbler of whiskey. You noted the half empty carafe, which just yesterday had been full and untouched.
“Fucking fantastic legs,” he said, vaguely outlining your shape with his hand. “I applaud you. It’s all very…sexy secretary. Oooh! Sexcretary. Fucking brilliant.”
You gaped, trying to put a clamp on the furious spike in your blood.
“Are you drunk?” you asked incredulously.
He raised his fingers an inch or so apart, scrunching up his face and trying not to laugh.
“Actually nah, not at all,” he bluffed. 
He let his hand fall back into his lap. You shook your head and set down your papers in order to cross your arms.
“Good. Then you’ll hear me clearly when I say, I’m filing a formal complaint with Billie in HR,” you said.
“Whaaat? Why?” he complained. You huffed incredulously.
“For your little comments, which are getting more and more heinous. Not to mention your excessive drinking during company hours.”
Nick pursed his lips. “Christ on a stick. Can’t you take a fucking compliment?”
“No,” you deadpanned. “What I refuse to take is any further sexual harassment. This isn’t the first incident I could disclose, but I’m damn sure you’ll want it to be the last.”
He kicked his feet off the table and slowly stood. You didn’t want to be afraid of this sloppy, frat boy drunken attitude, but a tendril of trepidation still laced down your spine as you took a step back.
“You could do that,” he nodded, tilting his head. “Or, I’ll give your Zimmerman account to Josh, along with your commission.”
You frowned, and shock made your entire body tense. 
“You…you can’t do that!” you exclaimed. Your insides fairly shook with frustration tinged with anger. “I’ll sue you.”
“With what money?” Nick scoffed.
Your brows knitted together then. How the hell would he know anything about your finances?
The man noted your reaction with a nod.
“Yeah, I know all about grammy and gramps. Surgeries, funerals, treatments…” he said. He leaned against the table with one hand, and still he fairly loomed over you.
He wasn't as broad as someone like Dean, but he was tall and lean. His dirty blonde hair was swept to the side, his blue eyes bearing down on you.
“I am this company. If you don’t like it, you can get the fuck out, sweetheart,” he said.
His gaze lowered, roaming your glowering face.
“And good luck getting anywhere else without a reference from one of the biggest corporations in Lawrence, Kansas.”
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You sighed. Yeah, you might’ve shed some frankly embarrassing tears in the women’s bathroom after that. You hadn’t even told Andréa the full story, which included the details of his comments, along with his threats.
You didn’t want her to worry. And maybe, more selfishly, you were embarrassed at having to deal with it at all.
Truth be told, you still didn’t know what the hell you were going to do. About Nick, or your job…but somehow, getting drunk at a bar seemed about the last thing you should be doing.
“I need a drink,” Andréa insisted. “Which means you definitely need a drink. And I know exactly where we’re going.”
After a long moment, you leaned your elbows on the kitchen counter and rubbed through the persistent ache in your forehead. Maybe, just this once, you deserved to forget about reality. Just for a little while.
“Fine. Where?” you asked.
“It’s this great bar Meg told me about. The Roadhouse.”
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“Ah, the usual suspects,” Ellen drawled at the men who managed to find seats at her bar, next to the rest of their party. The Roadhouse was packed on a Friday night, but she always had room for these two.
Benny and Dean wore similar tired, but pleasant smiles as they greeted their esteemed barkeep.
“What’s it been, Ellen, a whole shift since I’ve seen your delightful face?” Dean said.
Ellen gave him a mocking smile as she poured him his favorite beer on tap. Dean grinned and clapped his younger brother on the shoulder as he sat down. He and Cas had been waiting for a little while.
…Well, maybe longer than a little.
“Hey, dude,” Dean said. Sam perked up from his second beer with pursed lips.
“You know we’ve been waiting on you for like an hour, right?” he said.
“Aw, don’t get your panties in a twist, Sammy,” Dean teased. He nodded his thanks at Ellen when she set his beer in front of him, and a glass of whiskey for Benny. “We had a last-minute call. Some guy just couldn’t wait to start his Happy Hour. Drove his car into the company fountain.”
Sam’s brows raised incredulously. He looked over at Benny for confirmation, and the other man gave a resigned nod.
“Apparently it set the ducks into a tizzy,” he said. “The guy’s fine. Probably gonna get slapped with a DUI.”
Dean smirked and raised a finger at both Sam and Cas. “Duck Guy’s your problem now.”
Cas shook his head and raised his beer to his lips.
“Not my department.”
“Mine either,” Sam scoffed. Both of them worked in homicide cases, just from the differing sides of law and order. In fact, they worked together more often than Dean and Cas did.
Dean looked over at his friend Cas for a moment. He looked like more of a hot mess than usual, with his tie half undone, and a scruffy half-beard covering his face.
“Geez, man. You look like shit,” Dean remarked. “You and Meg fighting again?”
“No,” Cas replied, his brows furrowing. “…Well, yes. But nothing more than her usual insanity. Something about the cat preferring to sleep next to me than to her.”
“Well, that’s not so bad,” Benny said. “My dog don’t like her either.”
“Maybe they can smell that she’s feral,” Dean quipped. Cas sent him a dry look at that.
“She threatened to move out,” he revealed. “Even packed a bag at 3:00 in the morning. I spent two hours unpacking what she was re-packing, all while we argued in our underwear, not sleeping.”
Sam and Dean shared bemused looks, while Benny shook his head into his whiskey.
“So how’d it end up?” Sam asked. Cas sighed and took another long sip of his beer.
“Like it always ends, Sam,” he said, his lips quirking. “With our neighbors calling the precinct to complain, and me, somehow ending up sleeping on the couch for a crime I didn’t commit. If she wants to blame someone, blame the goddamn cat.”
Dean chortled. He brought his beer to his lips, but couldn’t resist a light jab at his best friend first.
“Dude, I love her like a sister, but your girlfriend’s unhinged,” he said.
Cas could only nod. “Most are, I’ve come to find.”
Sam scoffed and shook his head. “Not mine.”
“Yeah, that’s because Eileen doesn’t have to see you more than two minutes at a time,” Dean teased. He and his brother still shared an apartment, and Sam’s job as an Assistant District Attorney wrought demanding hours.
Sam shot his brother a flat look.
“Oh, I’m not taking that from the serial playboy,” he said.
Dean’s brows knitted together.
“All right, calm down,” he said. “I’m not Hugh Hefner.”
“Mr. Hit and Run,” Cas added, a smirk gracing his features.
“Chief ‘No Daddy Issues,’” Benny tipped in, giving his annoyed, green-eyed friend a sly glance. “With a side helping of the Clap.”
Dean’s lips pressed into a line. He leveled a finger at Benny.
“That girl was clean, okay? False alarm,” Dean said. His gaze raised heavenward as he sipped his beer. Thank Christ for that one. “The rash was just carpet burn.”
Sam shook his head and turned to his brother more seriously.
“Bottom line: until you date a woman for more than two weeks—hell, two days at a time—you don’t get to comment on the happily committed,” he said. 
Dean rolled his eyes. He knew his track record with relationships. As in, he didn’t really have a record…but it wasn’t for lack of trying. At least, not for the past few months.
Sam managed to break Dean out of his thoughts by clearing his throat, pushing his empty bottle across the counter.
“All right, speaking of. I gotta go,” he said.
“Aw, why? We just got here. Let me buy you another,” Dean offered.
Sam shot his brother another knowing look. Dean knew it well; it said, if he’d been here on time, they would’ve shared the first two drinks.
“I’m picking up Eileen,” Sam said, grabbing his blazer and fixing the collar when he put it on. “There’s this Latin club she wants to go to.”
Dean raised incredulous brows.
“My brother’s going salsa dancing?”
Sam sighed in exasperation, despite his smile. “Bye, Dean.”
He shot his other two friends a nod.
“See you guys.”
Cas and Benny both saw him off with a subtle raise of their drinks, while Dean just shook his head.
“All right, Samantha,” he called out. Sam didn’t bother to turn around as he raised up a choice finger behind him.
Dean snorted into his drink. “Very mature.”
Benny and Cas shared a wry look. They were relieved when Ellen’s daughter Jo came by, picking up the slack for her mom, who was serving a rowdy group of college kids at a nearby table.
“Hey, guys. Need another round?” Jo asked. She gave them all a familiar smile, but her eyes lingered on Dean. He gave her a more reserved smile back.
“Hey, Jo,” he nodded. “I uh…actually think I’m good right now.”
“Me too,” Cas said. He even stood up and grabbed his trenchcoat in similar fashion as Sam had. The two had paid for their beers before Benny and Dean even got there.
“Aw, not you too,” Dean groused.
“If I don’t make dinner, we run the risk of the apartment going up in flames,” Cas informed him. Dean could only assume he was talking about Meg. “Despite working with the Fire Department for ten years, the woman can’t manage to boil an egg without supervision.”
Jo raised a brow, but her smile was bemused as she turned to Benny. “Anything for you?”
“Nah, darlin’. I’m good,” he said. But sensing the unspoken request in her eyes when she glanced at Dean, Benny straightened and raised from his seat. “But I’ll be back. Need’a hit the head.”
Dean internally sighed as Benny left him alone at the bar. Or, well, relatively alone. Jo lingered in front of him to wash and dry out a few glasses. The air between them was stiff, and a little awkward.
Dean’s thoughts shifted back to his brother then; while he still couldn’t believe Eileen had wrangled his gangly Sasquatch of a brother into going dancing, Dean was happy for him. Truly and sincerely. Sam deserved having someone who softened him, made him break away from his endless cases and have some fun.
Dean could also admit, if only to himself, that he was maybe a little jealous. Sam had something good with his girl. Something real.
Dean had carpet burn.
“So, how’s studying going?” he asked Jo. He couldn’t stand awkward silences. “Still planning on giving your mom a heart attack when you get into the Police Academy?”
Jo’s blue eyes flicked up to his. She brushed a coil of blond hair behind her ear after she finished drying a glass, and a smile raised the corner of her lips.
“Wouldn’t be the first time I gave her something to yell about,” she quipped. “But since you asked…my exam is in three months.”
“Good,” Dean nodded. “You’ve got time. Study your ass off. Keep up the conditioning routine I gave you, and you’ll be set. Just don’t forget the strength training. Very important.”
“I got it,” she said, this time with a brighter smile. “Some old firefighter gave me some pointers.”
Dean tilted his beer at her accusingly.
“Hey, don’t pin that old shit on me yet. Benny’s got more mileage than I do…”
He considered her then, after briefly looking down at the counter.
“What?” she said.
He kept his lips tight. “Nothin’.”
“No, Dean. What?” Jo pressed. “You want to say something. Say it.”
He blew out a breath and shook his head.  
“Ellen’s not the only one who’s gonna worry about you on the job, that’s all,” he said. Jo flickered at a rueful frown.
“That’s ironic,” she said. “I can handle myself, Dean. Something you so often seem to forget.”
“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he shot back. His hand tightened around his beer.
Jo’s face fell into irritation, mostly to cover up the hurt he saw buried deep behind her eyes. She gave him some relief by glancing away from him.
“And this is why we didn’t work out,” she muttered. Sighing through her nose, her eyes met his again. “You know what I hate, more than anything? People worrying.”
Dean carded his fingers through his hair, his brows knitting together in aggravation.
“Yeah, well, maybe they have good reason to,” he said. He could’ve predicted the way she tightened up. “And if I remember right, you did your fair share of hand-wringing the next time I responded to a fire on the job.”
He knew it was a low blow. But his point was made, and he fully expected the anger in Jo’s tight frown. They’d dated for a few weeks, mostly in secret.
That had been enough for Ellen to blow her top. Not because she had anything against Dean…just his job: at the very same firehouse her late husband had once served.
So Dean had backed off. He’d ultimately felt he had to end it. And clearly, Jo still resented him for it.
Slowly, however, the fire in her eyes dimmed. Her finger tapped on her side of the bar counter.
“You think I don’t worry anymore just because we’re not together?” she asked him. 
Dean didn’t have a good answer for her. So his gaze fell to his nearly empty beer.
But he was even more relieved when Benny finally got back from the bathroom, or wherever he’d fucked off to for the past few minutes.
He did seem to know that he was interrupting a rather tense moment. Seeing as neither Dean nor Jo wanted to break the silence, Benny supposed it fell on him.
He reclaimed his seat and raised a smile up at Jo.
“I think I’m ready for the next round,” he said, glancing at Dean’s soured mood. “Two whiskeys, please, Joanna.”
Jo treated Benny with a half-smile. He was the only one besides her mother who called her Joanna (and got away with it). After one last look at Dean, she reached over for the Jim Beam.
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You met Andréa at the bar in your own car, just in case you needed to dip out early to check on Grandpa George. He was happy to see you going out.
“You’re pretty as a doll, sweetheart,” he’d said, patting your cheek after you kissed his goodbye.
The thought made you smile, even though you thought you were dressed casually in your dark wash jeans and blouse. When Andréa met you outside the bar, she nodded in approval.
“Good. I like the hint of sexy,” she said, plucking at the sweetheart neckline of your top. You rolled your eyes and tried to cover up the cleavage a little, but she batted at your hand.
“No, no. Leave your professionalism at work,” she said. “Tonight, you’re going to relax and have some fun.”
It was hard to think about loosening up when you were literally getting belittled and threatened at work…but you supposed she had a point. You always had to be put together. You had to be sharp, because this world wouldn’t hand you anything on a silver platter.
And not to mention, you couldn’t just think about yourself. You also had to provide and take care of your grandfather too. He was the only family you had left, and you were it for him too…
But you took in a slow, deep breath. Tonight, you could have a couple of drinks with your friend. You could just be yourself, with no responsibilities other than not getting too drunk to drive yourself home later.
So with a sigh, you smiled and linked your arm with Andréa as you headed inside the Roadhouse.
It looked kind of divey from the outside, a worn-looking brown building with a faded red sign. But inside it was all dark wood and leather barstools and rows of soft lighting overhead.
There were records displayed on the wall; Prince’s Purple Rain, the Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper, and David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, among others. Boston’s “More Than a Feeling” played on the wall speakers.
There were several tables, both high top and regular four-seaters, as well as a long bar that spanned the far wall, where rows and rows of liquor were showcased. You followed Andréa’s lead to the bar, where you took a seat at the far end and tried to feel like you belonged here. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to a place like this.
“This is nice,” she leaned over into your ear to say. “Next time my cousin should meet us here. She’s a handful, but I think you’d like her.”
You agreed with a smile. “If she’s anything like you, I think I’m well trained to handle your brand of insanity.”
Andréa leveled you with a playfully mocking look.
“Ah, you’ve got jokes tonight. Okay.” She waved over the blonde bartender.
“Hi, ladies,” she greeted. “I’m Jo. What’re we starting off with tonight?”
Before you could order for yourself, Andréa grabbed your arm and spoke over you.
“Do you have absinthe?” she asked.
Your eyes widened. “What?! I’m not drinking that—”
“Sure do,” Jo replied in amusement.
“Great,” said Andréa. You didn’t like her sly grin. “She’ll have an Aunt Roberta. I’ll have a vodka cranberry.”
“What the hell is an Aunt Roberta?” you asked.
Jo listed the ingredients on her fingers. “A nice molotov of brandy, vodka, gin, blackberry liqueur, and of course, absinthe.”
Jesus Christ. You shot Andréa a glare, even though you were trying to dim your smile.
“Are you trying to chill me out or fucking end me?” you asked.
Andréa smirked. “Whatever it takes.”
You rolled your eyes, but you nodded your agreement. Jo’s smile remained as she went to prepare your drinks. Meanwhile, your eyes wandered as you once again took in your surroundings.
Really is a cool place, you thought. And it was busy without being overbearingly crowded. There were even a few seats between you and the rest of the patrons at the bar. 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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AN: *rubs hands together* It begins. 😏
Lol how'd you like Dean's little moment with the reader at the firehouse? Plus the introduction of the rest of our cast!
(And a possible serial killer on the loose?) Though sorry about Nick. He's a douchecanoe.
Next Time:
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.
Keep Reading: PART 3
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Series Tag List (Part 1):
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@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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deancasbigbang · 10 days
Text
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Title: Arms Around His Angel
Author: blackhorsedances
Artist: stonelions
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, minor Benny LaFitte/Garth Fitzgerald IV, Gabriel/Kali. Charlie Bradbury/Meg Masters; Jody Mills/Donna Hanscum. Past Dean and Lee Webb; Past Dean and Lisa Braeden; Past Dean and Benny LaFitte. Sam Winchester/Jess Winchester. Jack is Sam and Jess Winchester’s son.
Length: 36041
Warnings: No major archive warnings Content Warnings: Mention of James and Amelia Novak dying in an MVA (no gore, nothing on screen), mention of the humane slaughter of a steer (no gore, nothing on screen).
Tags: !Inventor Castiel. !Rancher Dean Winchester. Bisexual Castiel Novak. Semi-comfortably Bisexual Dean Winchester. Top Cas/Bottom Dean. Smut and fluff. Mostly safe sex. Hurt/comfort. Happy Ending.
Posting Date: October 14, 2024
Summary: Castiel Novak invented cutting-edge solar technology and left his position as CEO of Angelus, Inc. to protect himself and his technology from his dysfunctional brothers. He found safety on a 20 acre farm in Kansas with a pond, house, barn, and his trailer. When his twin and sister-in-law are killed, he’s drawn back into the business, and into danger, to protect his niece Claire and his technology. Dean Winchester rebuilt Winchester Ranch after John almost destroyed it. He has 500 acres of land, a ranch house, and a big barn. He raises American Wagyu beef. He’s a single Dad with a great son, Ben, a giant moose brother Sam and Sam’s wife Jess, and an adorable nephew Jack who roams around the ranch with his trusty sidekick, Honeybee, Dean’s old palomino mule.  Castiel and Dean meet accidentally at a hotel and share a night of wild–and completely anonymous–intimacy. When Castiel wakes up alone, with no note and no phone number from his ‘Cowboy’, he assumes that the night was a one and done, and regretfully moves on with his life. Dean keeps thinking about the ‘Angel’ that he spent a night with, but is pretty sure that he doesn’t deserve that kind of a guy in his life. Jack and Honeybee discover “Mister Cas” and inadvertently set the stage for ‘Cowboy’ and his ‘Angel’ to meet. But sinister forces are moving in the background. Will they be able to overcome the forces that are trying to keep them apart?
Excerpt: “What’s Jack doing, Sam? Garth says he and Honeybee are out most days from breakfast until well after lunch. Jody says he packs peanut butter and banana sandwiches.” Sam shrugs. “He says he’s out visiting Mister Cas. I think he probably found the fort we built that one summer, and is holed up out there with sandwiches for his imaginary friends. Let it be, Dean. The heifers are out in the north pasture. The steers are in the east pasture. There’s nothing out by the fort to worry about.” “Snakes, Sam. There are snakes to worry about.” Sam looks at Dean across the kitchen island, and shakes his head, hair flopping over into his eyes. “You’re the one that told me that a mule will kill a snake faster than you can say ‘snake’, and I believe you because I’ve seen Honeybee do it. Let him be. Ben will be out of school in a couple of weeks, and he’ll be following Ben around like a puppy.” “Heh, you’re probably right.” Dean runs a hand down the back of his neck.  “I know I am, Dean. You worry about all of us, but you worry too much. You can’t watch over everyone all of the time.”
DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule
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Ties That Bind - Part 10: Can't Lose You
Characters: (AU: first names are as in the show renaming a few last names to fit my story): Reader (Y/N Harvelle), Detective Dean Winchester, Krissy Chambers, Timmy Chambers, Ben Braeden, Random Kids at The Clouds, Castiel Novak (mentioned), Detective Benny Lafitte (Mentioned), Bela Lafitte (mentioned)
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Chaotic work environment, fighting (verbal), smut (not implied but not overly graphic either in this one).
Word Count: 4100ish
A/N: Thanks to @blacktithe7 for betaing and helping me rework this series.
***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.*** 
MASTERPOST
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“Is it always this crazy here?” Dean quickly moved out of the way of a teenage girl chasing a younger one down the hall.
“It’s girls. Girls are always crazy.” Ben shrugged. “And I think Y/N is alone right now. Cas is at supervised visitation with Caleb and his parents. Patience and Kaia had soccer practice so the tem are with them.”
“Hmm,” Dean frowned as he quietly followed Ben into the kitchen to find Y/N at the stove with a young boy sitting at the counter. She was clearly trying to help him with some homework while simultaneously trying to make lunch and yelling at the girls to stop fighting.
She didn’t notice Dean or Ben before she swore and ran from the stove towards the window just as a football suddenly crashed into it, luckily without breaking it. She twirled around, almost running straight into Dean’s chest.
“Hi?” he tried, but he hardly got a response, just a quick nod before she was out the door, yelling at the 3 teenage boys to take their game elsewhere unless they wanted to spend their allowances paying for a broken window.
Dean quickly shrugged off his jacket and headed for the stove, sending Ben a quick nod and grin when the boy’s eyes opened wide in surprise.
“You’re staying?” 
“It is my day off. Besides, it looks like you guys need a hand.” Dean smiled as he started assessing the damage Y/N had done to the food without really paying attention to it. It looked salvageable.
She returned from the garden half out of breath, and Dean smiled at her when he saw the clear surprise on her face at finding him in the kitchen.  
She walked up behind the kid at the counter, who Dean just then noticed was staring at him, and ruffled his hair a little as she sat down next to the kid addressing Dean.
“What are you doing here, Winchester?” She had a teasing tone in her voice, but she looked exhausted. Dean wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and kiss her until she relaxed, but he knew this wasn’t the place. He just had to save that for later.
“Helping you out,” Dean replied just as a loud bump sounded from down the hall, followed by the voices of teenage girls yelling from down the hall. Y/N jumped back onto her feet. “Go deal with the posse. Ben and I got this. Right?” Dean winked to the kid, stirring the pot next to him.
“Right.” Ben smiled brightly, clearly happy for the vote of confidence Dean was showing him.
“Okay… erhm,” Y/N shifted lightly on her feet, glaring at the kid next to her before bending down. She took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“Timmy, this is Dean. He is a friend of mine and Ben’s. He is gonna stay here in the kitchen with you guys, and maybe he can help you out.” she sent Dean a questioning look as she finished the sentence, and he sent her a reassuring smile.
“Of course. What are you working on buddy?” Dean addressed Timmy, but the kid just stared down into his book.
“Timmy doesn’t say much, but he can point. He understands everything,” Y/N quickly explained before running down the hall as the yelling started to increase.
After a few minutes, Dean let Ben take over in the kitchen so he could sit down next to Timmy and try to help the boy with his math. Eventually, he earned a few smiles and nods from the boy.
Ben roamed around the kitchen, glancing over at Dean every so often to make sure he was doing the right things. Dean sent him a few encouraging nods and smiles, making Ben beam with pride.
“Who are you?” Dean looked up to see a young girl with unruly dark brown hair standing before him. She had a hard look in her eyes, but she still seemed a little unsure of herself, broken somehow. Yet still defiant.
“Oh relax, Krissy. Why do you have to be like that all the time?” Ben snarled from the kitchen. Dean quickly interrupted before the girl had a chance to bite back at him.
“It’s okay. I would be wondering too if I found a stranger in my home,” Dean addressed Ben before smiling back at Krissy. “I’m Dean. I’m a friend of Y/N’s. I’m just here to help her out for a bit. Is that cool?”
“I guess.” Krissy moved around the table and took a seat on the other side of Timmy. He looked up at his her before looking back at Dean. “Krissy is my sister,” the boy spoke quietly but the pride in his voice was evident, and Dean smiled at him.
“You’re lucky. She seems very protective of you,” Dean replied before looking up to see Y/N standing in the hall with a choked expression on her face. “I’ll be right back buddy,” Dean promised before walking out to Y/N, who immediately took his hand and started dragging him into the office.
“He spoke to you.” Dean looked at her, confused by her sudden outburst.
“Timmy? Yeah. Just a sentence, but yeah. He did. Why?” A big smile slide across her face before she threw her arms around Dean’s neck. He immediately wrapped his arms around her almost by instinct, his heart skipping a beat with her sudden display of affection.  
“He has only ever spoken to Krissy, or me, or Charlie the entire time he has been here. You walk through the door, and he speaks to you? Do you have any idea how amazing that is?” She was babbling, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh, feeling more than a little proud by the way she was looking at him.
“No, but you clearly do, sweetheart.” Dean grinned letting out a small surprised sound when her lips crashed against his. It didn’t take him long to respond to her, pulling her impossibly closer, kissing her back. He didn’t let her pull back before Ben’s voice sounded through the house.
“Lunch’s ready.”
Dean’s heart skipped a beat when he saw the genuinely happy smile on her face as she stayed in his arms, looking up at him.
“Stay? Cas will be home soon, but you helped cook, and I will be off in a few hours. We could drive home together?”
Dean smiled, loving how she thought she had to convince him, like it was a chore for him to be around her in an environment where she shined. Dean loved seeing her with those kids. He loved seeing how much she cared for them and how much they cared for her. He didn’t even hesitate for a second before answering her.
“I would love that, sweetheart.”
***
Dean took a deep breath as he watched her walk through the house to let her dog out of his kennel and into the yard. He had doubted whether or not he should have come in or not for the first time in a long time.
Everything had been fine between them before they left for Benny’s. She had been laughing and had laced her fingers through his as they walked out to his car. She had seemed so happy, but sometime during the evening that had changed. Dean wasn’t sure what had caused it, but he knew he wanted to fix it.
He watched her stand in the doorway to her garden, waiting for Santo to return and did the only thing he knew how to in the moment. He showed her he cared. Wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and pulling her against his chest, he pressed his lips against the side of her head and lingered a moment longer than he had too.
“Are you okay, Y/N/N?” he asked quietly as he finally felt her lean into him a little.
“Yeah. Just tired. I’m fine, Dean.” There was something in her voice that kept Dean from believing her, but he also didn’t want to push too far and make things worse.
“Do you want me to leave?” He hoped with everything in him that she wouldn’t want that and drew a small sigh of relief when she answered.
“No. Stay. I am just in a weird mood.” She tilted her head up to look at him. The look in her eyes was something Dean couldn’t quite read.
“Okay. I’m gonna take a shower.” He sent her a small smirk, hoping he could cheer her up. “Do you wanna join me?”
“Not tonight. Go ahead. I’ll be up soon.” Her smile looked forced, making Dean feel all the more hopeless.
“Okay.” He pressed his lips against hers in a chaste kiss before heading upstairs on his own.
Dean’s mind didn’t leave her as he showered, wondering and worrying about what he could have said or done wrong. He hated this. Seeing her unhappy. Her happiness meant more to him than anything else in the world. The thought that he may have done something to jeopardize that happiness left a pit in the bottom of his stomach.
When Dean returned to the bedroom wearing only his boxers, she was already under the covers with her back to the door. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, trying to decide his next move. He let out a deep sigh before wandering over to the bed and crawling under the covers. He pulled her tightly against him and breathed in her scent.
He felt her tighten up for a moment before relaxing in his arms.
“Are you sure we’re good?” Dean mumbled against her neck, worried about her initial reaction to him.
“We’re good.” She turned around in his arms to face him and pressed a kiss to his lips before he had a chance to think too much of the sadness in her eyes. Her kiss was passionate without pushing for anything more. She kissed him like she wanted to do nothing else for the rest of the night, and Dean was more than happy to oblige.
He couldn’t tell how long he had been kissing her for or even how she ended up almost on top of him. He just knew that she was. When they finally broke the kiss, he took a deep breath and looked down at her. He enjoyed the way her head rested against his chest while her fingers drew small patterns on his skin.
Her index finger circled the scar on his left side below his ribcage a few times, and Dean closed his eyes. He was starting to piece together what had happened. He remembered seeing her freeze up for a moment when Bela called out DJ’s full name, Dean Joseph Lafitte, after dinner when he almost knocked over a lamp in the living room. Y/N and Bela had disappeared into the kitchen while he and Benny were talking in the living room after DJ had been put to bed. Y/N had been quiet for the rest of the evening after that. He knew what was coming, but still he waited. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to know, but still he worried. He worried that the dangers of his job would be to much on her. That she would leave.
She stayed still in his arms, the only thing moving was her fingers as they traced over his skin. Her voice was low but relaxed when she finally spoke.
“How did this happen? It’s a bullet wound right?” She tilted her head, resting her chin against his chest as she waiting for him to speak. Dean took a deep breath and tightened his grip around her slightly, almost afraid that she would disappear right before him if he didn’t hold on to her.
“It’s an old wound. The only time I’ve ever really been shot…” Dean started but immediately regretted his choice of words when he saw her eyes widen. 
“Really been shot?”  
“Yeah… I mean I’ve been grazed a few times, but…” Dean twisted his upper arm so she could see the scar. “See just burns. Nothing serious.”
Dean saw the tears starting to form behind her eyes, and he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms back around her. He hated this. He loved his job, but the dangers of it… He didn’t want to burden her with those.
“I’m okay sweetheart. We don’t have to do this…” The stern look on her face stopped him, and he nodded as she spoke. “I need to hear this Dean.”
He closed his eyes for a second and took a deep breath before he started talking. “It was 5 years ago. I had been a detective for a little over 6 month, and Benny had been my partner since day one. He erhm.. He’s a few years older than me, so he taught me the ropes. We became friends quickly, and I was the first he told when Bela got pregnant. He was so excited…” Dean took a small pause. Remembering that day was not as easy as he thought it would have been, and Dean was grateful for the loving expression on Y/N’s face. The soothing touch of her hand drawing circles on his biceps helped keep him calm and allowed him to keep going.
“He was on an undercover assignment, and he got made. I was his backup, but I was never supposed to go in. So I wasn’t wearing my vest. When things went south… me and a few other guys ran in. One guy almost got away. So Benny chased him, and I took after a minute later. He had Benny on the ground aiming at him when I caught up. So I took a shot.. Only… It was the first time I fired my gun at someone. So I didn’t... He went down, and I was dumb. I didn’t check on him. I went to Benny. He was hurt pretty bad. I just didn’t pay attention. The guy got up and knocked me out of the way. Then he aimed at Benny again… So I jumped in front if it. Some of the other guys showed at that point. I don’t remember much… It would have been my fault if DJ had grown up without a father. If I had just done my job in the first place…” Dean’s voice sounded more strained now. The memory of that day combined with the knowledge of what could have happened was taking a toll on him.
“Sssh you don’t have to say anything else… It’s okay. I get it.” Her hands cupped his face, and she leaned up, pressing her lips against his. Dean closed his arms around her and held her close as he fought back the tears, tears of happiness that she was still here. She wasn’t running or screaming at him. She still wanted him.
Dean rested his forehead against hers, gently rubbing her nose with his. “You’re amazing you know that?”
“Yes.” She grinned, making Dean chuckle.
“I am not sure how you do it,” he added, more serious this time, giving her a small squeeze.
“Do what?” She looked so adorably confused. It made Dean smile.
“Accept this. My job… I… If I knew you were getting shot at... I’m not sure I would ever let you leave the house.” Dean watched her expression change slightly. She suddenly looked a little more pale, but she took a deep breath. Dean instinctively knew she was gonna tell him something he didn’t want to hear.  
“There have been shootings at the Clouds. Kids being involved with gangs and stuff. Never at our house,” she quickly added since she must have felt Dean tense up beneath her. She took another deep breath before she sat up, leaving Dean more than a little confused. He pushed himself up onto his elbow, watching her as she lifted the hem of her tank top to just below her breasts before taking his hand and guiding it over her creamy soft skin. He instantly felt it. The scar he knew was there but had never really given much thought to until now, and he froze as he listened to her words.
“A mom came at me after a court date last year. I had testified saying I believed her to be violent and that I recommended that her two kids would be placed in permanent foster homes. She called my name, and I turned without thinking… She had a kitchen knife, and she almost pierced my lung.
Dean felt every ounce of color drain from his face. The thought of her in a situation like that chilled him to the bone. It scared him more than taking that bullet ever would. The thought that he… that she… It was something he couldn’t even fathom. His grip got a little tighter.
“Is that the only time that’s happened?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No.”
The fear he felt morphed into a near palpable rage.
“I don’t want you going back there.”
“Excuse me?” She pushed free of his hold and stared down at him. “Did you just tell me what to do? To not go to work?!”
Dean knew he should take the words back, but he couldn’t. His fear that something would happen to her overwhelmed him, making him restless. He pushed himself up off the bed and started pacing the room. He needed to make her understand. He needed her safe. He had to make sure that she was safe.
“Dean. Would you stop pacing like a caged lion and fucking talk to me.” Her voice was high pitched, and Dean turned around to look at her to see that she was now standing in front of the bed, staring him down in challenge. She misunderstood everything, and suddenly Dean felt as if he was back to square one with her. She was looking at him like she wanted to kill him and her temper only fueled his.  
“You can’t go back there. I don’t want you to work in a place like that. You could get hurt.” His words came out a lot harsher and angrier than he intended them to. He saw the rage in her eyes, in her entire body by the way she tensed up.
“Then I don’t want you to go back to work either. You are in way more danger than I will ever be.” She was screaming at him now, and Dean fought the urge to kick the chair beside him.
“It is not the same thing dammit. Being a cop. It is who I am Y/N…” She interrupted him, throwing a pillow at his face before he could get out another word.
“Being a social worker is who I am. I never thought you would be like this. Controlling…”
Dean glared at her. She didn’t understand. This wasn’t what it was about. He didn’t want to control her. He loved how strong and independent she was. Hell as stunning as she was, her real beauty was in her strength and capacity to love. He needed to make her understand. This wasn’t about control. This was about keeping her safe.
“God Dammit Y/N. It is not about control. I can’t lose you. Why can’t you see that? I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. I love you.”  
Dean froze as soon as he realized the slip, and she stopped. The anger on her face disappeared instantly, and he could see the tears build behind her eyes. Fuck. What had he done? He didn’t want to tell her like this. He had known for a while, and of course he was going to say it. He just hadn’t wanted it to be like this. Not screaming at her. Not when they were having their first real fight.
“What did you say?” Dean couldn’t read her expression. What if she didn’t feel it? Should he take it back? He couldn’t.  Even if he could, he didn’t want to. He slowly stepped towards her, his eyes never leaving hers as he took her hand in his. “I love you, Y/N. So fucking much. And I am sorry for being an ass, but the thought of seeing you hurt… it scares the shit out of me.”
He saw her watery eyes, and he was sure she was going to kick him out. That this would be the end. He opened his mouth to make it easier for her. That was the least he could do after how he’d just behaved, but she spoke before the words could leave him.
“I love you too, Dean.” Her eyes found his, and he lost control. He needed her, needed to show her how he felt. His lips crashed against hers. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. The kiss was passionate and heated, but soon the feeling of her in his arms was no longer enough. He needed to feel her. All of her. So he lifted her off her feet and gently lowering them both back onto the bed.
His lips and tongue began exploring her skin as he slowly undressed her, drawing soft moans from her. He soon had her gloriously naked before him. His eyes never left her perfect body as his fingers moved in and out of her wet heat, his tongue dancing over her clit, pushing her towards her high.
Fuck he loved watching her. Loved making her feel good. Loved that she let him. He wrung every last drop of pleasure he could from her before he was content. He watched her as he got up to remove his boxers. Her chest heaved, making her soft perfect breast sway a little. Her body glistened with sweat. Her hair mushed up and was almost curly from the perspiration on her forehead. Her eyes glazed over with lust and love as she reached out, calling out for him. Dean immediately obeyed her wish.  He lowered himself down on top of her, kissing her deeply as he slowly pushed his cock inside her. Staying completely still for a minute, he was content to just feel her wrapped around him in every sense of the word. Her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Fuck he loved her.
Then he started moving. Slow, languid thrusts graced over her sweet spot, making her moan against his mouth. Dean had no idea how long he fucked her like that. Could have been a minute. Could have been hours. He didn’t care. He pulled back from their kiss to look her in the eye.
“I love you,” he repeated. He felt the effect his words had on her as she clenched down around him, clawing his back. “Dean, please…”
Then he let go. Fucking her into the mattress. Chasing both of their ends until she fell apart beneath him, screaming his name. Her walls squeezed down on him hard, pulling him with her over the edge.
“Jesus Christ…. Y/N/N.” Dean rested his head against her neck, letting her run her hands soothingly over his back.
“I love you, Dean.” His heart fluttered at her words, and he slowly pulled out of her before rolling them both over until she was resting back against his chest.
“I love you too.” He held her for a moment, letting his mind wander before speaking again.
“Sweetheart?” A contented sigh was his only response. “If things ever get dangerous like that again, promise me you won’t go alone. Take Cas with you. Promise me you’ll call me.”
She rested her chin on his chest and studied him for a moment. She didn’t seem angry this time, more like she was trying to read him. Make sure he was not trying to order her around, and when she seemed content that wasn’t the case, she spoke.
“I promise. If you promise me something?” Her voice was soft, but he felt the seriousness in her tone.
“Anything,” Dean gently ran his hands up and down her naked back, his eyes never leaving hers.
“Be careful. Don’t do anything stupid. Come home to me.” Dean could see the tears build behind her eyes, and he quickly leaned down to kiss her tenderly, pouring his every emotion into it.
“I’ll always come home to you.” Dean pulled her back against his chest, holding her tight, silently wishing he could keep that promise. He was going to do his damnedest to do so. No matter what happened, he would always fight to get back to her. She was his home now. 
Dean Tag Team 
@percywinchester27 @slowlywithfreeedom @flamencodiva @deansgirl215 @atc74 @winecatsandpizza @blackcherrywhiskey @feelmyroarrrr @whimsicalrobots @torn-and-frayed @jadewritings @mogaruke @wayward-and-worn @super100012 @blacktithe7 @becs-bunker @docharleythegeekqueen @smoothdogsgirl @ericaprice2008 @danijimenezv @roxyspearing @adoptdontshoppets @supernatural13-13 @onethirstyunicorn @deanmonandnegansbitch @mysupernaturalfics @angreadsficsandauthors @its-not-a-tulpa @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @atwistoffate @adriellej @mrswhozeewhatsis @sillesworldofwriting @sandlee44 @wildfirewinchester @mary-magizoologist @ruprecht0420 @winchesters-favorite-girl @spnfanficpond
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smellingofpoetry · 2 years
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. 
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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 · 4 months
Text
Even Guard Dogs Feel Fear | Benny Lafitte x gn!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ “Can you, erm, can you stay the night? I don’t… I don’t wanna be alone” With Benny please ❞
: ̗̀➛ Even werewolves get scared of horror films sometimes, and when they do, it's always good to have a vampire nearby.
: ̗̀➛ [trigger warnings] horror films, smoking
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
The screen went dark, bright white credits rolling as creepy music continued to play in the background, and Benny could feel you clinging onto his side; it made him smile to himself as he kept his arm firmly around you, silently soothing you with the gentle rub of his hand going up and down your bicep.
He could feel your warmth against his cool skin and the harsh breaths from your mouth; the slightest of trembles from you as you swallowed thickly and reluctantly peeled away from him.
Benny loved nights like this.
Nights when he wasn't working and he could actually sit down and spend some actual time with you at his side. You took turns choosing what to do, and it was your turn this time, and you had insisted on watching a horror film.
Evidently, it had affected you more than you could ever actually say.
He had never known you to be scared of one before, and he was a little amused; his big, rough, tough, gruff werewolf partner, scared of a little film about home invasion turning to a murder spree.
He wanted to grin, really, but when he saw the fear in your eyes, it soon died away as he frowned and cleared his throat.
"You alright, sugar?"
You shook your head, swallowing thickly and looking as if you were about to jump out of your own flesh like one of those old cartoons; your skeleton just about ready to pop right out at the slightest noise. "Benny, I know I don't ask often, but erm... can you, erm, can you stay the night? I don’t… I don’t wanna be alone, not after that."
Leaning back against the sofa, Benny shrugged as he crossed his ankles, making himself more than at home. "Sure thing, anythin' for you."
You seemed to relax a little, snuggling into his side again as you sniffled a little. "That one really fucked with me..."
"You never get scared of those," he chuckled softly, playing with a stray strand of fabric coming from your hoodie. "What was so different?"
"I dunno," you breathed out. "But, erm... can we watch another film? Maybe something, I dunno, lighter?"
Benny smiled a little. "How 'bout All Dogs Go To Heaven?"
That earned him a playful smack to the chest, making him laugh loudly as you scowled at him only half seriously. "Don't."
"I couldn't resist," he admitted with a shrug.
"Whatever," you huffed. "Dracula."
Benny grinned a little, trying not to laugh; but then you grabbed his hand, dragging him along with you to the kitchen. It was hard for him not to laugh, especially when you insisted on him standing behind and pressed up against you as you rolled yourself a cigarette.
He let his hands rest on the waistband of your jogging bottoms, leaning his chin on your shoulder and closing his eyes for a moment.
Pretty much bliss. Or at least the closest that he could get to it.
You had always been keen on physical contact, and for the most part, he simply chalked it down to the lycanthrophy; you thrived on social connection and family, you needed it far more than he ever did.
But you chose him, even when you could have gone out and found a group of werewolves, you chose him. Over everything else, you chose Benny. He never did understand why, but he never tried to think of it much.
He tried to be happy, as much as he was allowed to be.
Still, he kept his hands on your waistband, getting rather comfortable until you suddenly moved away to light your cigarette; he missed it.
"Promise you'll stay?" You asked quietly, all but glaring at him with those almost glowing eyes.
Benny nodded, planting his hands on the counter and leaning over slightly so that you could see perfectly well just how sincere he was. "I promise. Don't worry, I'll stay right here til tomorrow night."
You nodded back, a little shaky as you chewed at the inside of your cheek and looked around nervously. "Can you do me a favour?"
He shrugged. "Anythin'."
"Can you quickly check outside?" You asked. "Y'know, just make sure-"
"That there's no spree killers out there," he chuckled, nodding. "For a price, I'd be happy to."
You furrowed your brows. "A price?"
"Just a quick kiss," he whispered softly, daring to grin when you rolled your eyes and smiled. "It ain't easy work, y'know - I gotta get my shoes on, an' my hat, and then? Then I gotta go do a lap 'round, too."
"I'll make sure you're fully compensated when you get back," you bartered.
Benny hummed, pretending to think about it for a quick moment. "Alright. But you're s'posed to be the guard dog, y'know."
"Guard dogs get scared, too," you huffed, watching as he went to grab his shoes and his hat. "Before you go?"
"Uh-huh?"
"I really am grateful," you told him softly. "I know it's a pain but-"
"Ain't a pain," Benny corrected with a shake of his head. "Ain't a pain at all."
You smiled, daring to meet him at the door so that you could gently kiss his bearded cheek. "You're going grey."
He hummed, a little amused. "Maybe when you get home from work tomorrow, I'll let you dye it."
"No," you told him, shaking your head. "No, I like the grey. It suits."
Licking his lips, Benny nodded slowly. "I'm not gonna be long, alright?"
You dared to kiss his cheek again, thankful to have him near. You really did love him, if you were honest; grateful that Dean had introduced the two of you when you offered to help him out. You couldn't imagine being without Benny anymore.
But the ring in your back pocket didn't feel so heavy anymore; every time you thought about it, you weren't nervous. You were giddy, and excited and hopeful about what he might say. Maybe when he got back, you would actually ask at last.
if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, maybe donate to help Tahani save her children and husband
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apocalypseornaw · 1 year
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Should've Known (3/3)
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Benny Lafitte x Reader (reader has nickname of Bandit. This will be a mini series with the break up first then how they got together then Benny coming to find her)
Human/Hunter Benny AU
Benny comes to Bobby's to set things straight between the two of you
Being back at Bobby's felt like being a teenager sneaking home with your tail tucked between your legs after being warned not to hunt alone. Your bedroom had long since been established as yours, even when the Leviathan had attacked and burnt down the old house that once stood here as soon as the new one was built Bobby had told you to take claim to the bedroom that was in the same place as your old one.
The twin size bed was tucked into the corner of the room, a foot locker sat at the end of the bed that was filled with different spells ingredients, first aid supplies and weapons. The windowsill was wide enough you kept cushions on it for another place to sit. The only people you ever allowed to crash in it when you weren't there were Sam, Dean, Jo or Roni.
At least you didn't have time to wallow. From the moment you'd parked your car in the driveway you'd fallen back into the routine that was being in the center of the hunters network. When you'd walked into the door with your duffle over your shoulder Bobby had just walked out the kitchen and smiled "Hey sweetheart" he eyed your bag so you nodded "Mind if I come home for a while?" You knew what the answer would be even before he said "Why would I mind? Go dump your stuff then you better go see Ellen, she's gonna be ticked off if you're here a few hours before she notices"
You hugged him then dumped your bag onto the bed in your room then headed back down the stairs. Ellen was waiting on you with Jo, she pulled you into a hug and that was all it was. You didn't want to talk about Benny and none of them tried to make you. The phones started ringing so Ellen nodded towards it "Grab the fed line honey"
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Two days had passed. You'd been dodging Benny's calls and avoiding his texts. Sam and Dean had both called, Dean offered to kick Benny's ass for you and Sam had offered to hack Andrea's bank accounts.
You didn't want anyone holding bad feelings towards Benny. You loved him, regardless of what had happened. He'd been your friend before you'd gotten into a relationship with him and friends were few and far between, if he needed your help on a hunt you'd give it just not yet.
---------
You were in Bobby's study, running down a lead for Sam and Dean when you heard your name being called. You jumped up to run towards the front door where Jo was helping Elias through the door.
Your eyes widened as you moved to support his other side considering he was nearly the same height as Sam and just as broad "For fucks sake Elias, what did you do?" He grinned slightly "Was just a wendigo Bandit. Don't worry" you shook your head then nodded towards the lounge chair next to the window "drop him there then go grab the first aid kit out the kitchen"
Jo helped you ease him down then headed for the kitchen. Elias smirked slightly as you began to unbutton his shirt "Well damn Bandit if you wanted me half naked all you had to do was ask" You rolled your eyes and shoved him down onto the lounge in a laying position so you could see the wound easier "Easy there Elias" he grimaced when his back hit the cushion "Yeah, I ain't in the shape for Lafitte to catch me hitting on you"
"You aren't in the shape for anything" Jo told him as she walked back in with the first aid kit. You nodded to it "Get a suture kit out, he's got a decent gash going down his left side" she did as you asked then grabbed the betadine to clean up what blood she could while you prepared the needle. She nodded to you then tossed the bloody gauze down on the cloth she'd sat on the floor to catch any used medical supplies for easier clean up.
----------
You worked in silence, quickly stitching up Elias' side then Jo taped some gauze over it to protect the area as well. "I'll call mom and see if there's antibiotics here or if I need to make a pharmacy run" Jo said after helping you clean everything up. You nodded to her then looked back at Elias "I'm gonna go put the kit up. Then we can get you squared away upstairs so you can sleep a little"
He gave you a small smile "You two are angels in flannel" you grabbed your chest in mock pain "Knowing some of the angels, i dont know if thats a compliment or insult" he laughed which caused a slight grimace of pain to flash across his face "Trust me, I mean it as a compliment"
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One thing that seemed so damn mundane to have to do in your life was laundry, yet it was a necessary evil. You'd already gotten Elias tucked away into one of the two spare bedrooms and was in your room folding your laundry when you heard someone knocking at the front door so you stepped out into the hall to holler at Jo to answer it.
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Benny parked his truck next to your car then climbed out. Your necklace with the ring he'd long since bought you was sitting heavily in his jacket pocket, you refused to answer any of his calls or texts and when Dean had called him to find out just what had happened he'd gotten an earful from the eldest Winchester before he'd been able to say two words.
When he'd finally gotten to explain his side of the story Dean was actually the one to tell him to make the trip to Sioux Falls. "I know bandit man, actions speak a lot louder than words. If you want her listen you've got to make the first move or she's gonna think that you see her as something not worth fighting for"
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He noticed that Bobby's truck was missing but Jo's and Ellen's cars were parked near yours along with another truck that looked vaguely familiar but he couldn't quite put his thumb on it.
He walked up onto the porch and took a deep breath before knocking. He could hear your voice even muffled as it was when you hollered for Jo to answer the door and god help him his heart flipped hearing it. He missed you like crazy and only a few days had passed but this was different than a hunt or you visiting friends.
You'd left him, he still wasn't completely sure why. Why not wait until he got home? Why not ask him about the things Andrea had said, about why he was meeting with her to begin with. Why not trust that he loved you with everything he had and would never intentionally hurt you?
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The door swung open and for a second he assumed he'd have to duck a punch from the blonde. "What the hell do you want Benny?" She asked venom lacing every word. "I just want to talk to her Jo"
She opened her mouth to say something else but both froze when they heard your footsteps followed by you saying "Who was it Jo because we only got one more spare...." you trailed off when your eyes landed on Benny "What the hell do you want?" Jo grinned at you "Hey! That's what I said"
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You stood on the bottom step looking between Benny and Jo. You hadn't expected him to come here, you figured he'd give Bobby's place a wide berth with how you'd left Carencro.
"Darlin, can we please just talk?" He asked as you took the final step down to be not a foot away from him. "Elias squared away?" Jo asked and you cut your eyes at her "Yeah, I just checked on him. He's asleep"
Benny glanced up the stairs then back at you "Elias is here?" You nodded "He got hurt hunting a wendigo. We were the closest option" you noticed the look in his eyes and nearly laughed, was he really letting jealousy seep out? Good. Let him be jealous.
You looked at Jo again and she held your gaze. The two of you were able to talk with a few looks being thrown so she knew you were going to talk to Benny and knew you needed her near by in case your emotions got the best of you.
She nodded after a moment "I'm gonna go finish that lead for Sam and Dean" you nodded towards the porch "We'll be right outside"
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Benny followed you out onto the porch, resisting the urge to place his hand on your lower back. A familiar touch you normally would lean into that would more than likely get him punched at the moment.
Once the door shut behind you, you moved to sit on the wide banister that ran around the porch. You turned to face him, crossing your arms over your chest "You drove all this way. You wanted to talk. You got five minutes to say something worth listening to because I'm still feeling like a damn fool"
He nodded to himself. You deserved your anger, he'd went about this all wrong. The moment he spoke your name your eyes closed for a moment before you whispered "I can do better with you calling me by Bandit right now please"
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When you opened your eyes Benny was staring at you and your damn traitorous heart flipped at the attention of those blue eyes on you. Damn you loved him, this wouldn't hurt like this if you didn't.
"First of all, what Andrea said about me asking her to come through Carencro while you were gone is true" you felt tears threaten to spill from your eyes "Did you come all this way to break my heart further because if so just leave now"
A sound of a truck drew both of your attention and you cursed under your breath seeing it was Bobby and Ellen. That was all you needed. Benny waved a hand towards the truck as it parked "This was actually good timing because you may not believe me on some things but them two? You will"
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You weren't sure what he meant but you watched as Bobby and Ellen both climbed out the truck and took in your current position. Ellen smiled slightly "Well hey Benny. Didn't expect to see you here" then looked towards you "Everything ok honey?" You nodded so she grabbed Bobby's arm "Let's head in"
Benny stopped them by saying "If it aint too much trouble I need you two to hang around just for a minute" Bobby and Ellen both looked at you so you nodded.
Benny turned his eyes back to you "Andrea was supposed to come through Carencro to get a check for her daddy so I could pay him back what I owed him. I met his assistant at the state line to drop off the check after what happened in New Orleans Xavier told Andrea she couldn't have dealings in any of his business any more"
You didn't know Benny owed Xavier anything. "Why did you owe him money?" You asked and he pointed to the house "The insurance on this place wasn't gonna pay out what Bobby needed to rebuild. This is where you grew up, Bobby is pratically your father. I did what I had to do for family"
You blinked back tears at his words. He'd indebted himself to Xavier for Bobby's house? You looked towards Bobby who gave the barest of nods "The check had Xaviers name on it" "The ring?" You asked, the anger that had been fueling you for days quickly slipping away.
Benny turned towards Ellen as he pulled the necklace from his pocket "Did you or did you not slip down to the French quarter and spend the better part of a day with me and Elizabeth helping me to find this damn ring?" She nodded "Bandit if you would've told us what the fight was between you and Benny we could've helped clear it up before now"
Your eyes were glued onto Benny's. "Thank you for clearing it up" Ellen smiled then herded Bobby inside with a whisper of "Give em a minute"
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You watched them go in then looked back at Benny. "I'm sorry I left the way I did" He shrugged "I kind of deserved it for not handling things better"
You laughed lightly "Can I ask one thing" he nodded "Of course" you pointed towards the door "For a second you were jealous of Elias being here" "Not a question but yeah I was jealous of my girl playing nurse to one of her exes"
You took a step towards him, noticing how he tracked your movements "Now imagine Elias telling you I was meeting him without you knowing, that something I gave you that you absolutely loved and cherished more than any other materialistic item on this earth had been bought for him first. Imagine him throwing every damn insecurity you have in your face in a crowded coffee shop in front of Sam, Dean and Elizabeth"
His eyes looked so damn sad you wanted nothing more than to pull him into a kiss. "I'm so sorry darlin but I am telling you here and now, I never loved Andrea like I love you. Coming home to you being gone? Stabbing me would've hurt less. Please give us a second chance because I know you still love me and I will do anything to prove how much I love you"
You wiped your eyes free of the tears that had managed to escape "No more secrets?" "No more secrets" you nodded towards the necklace in his hand "Better part of a day huh?" The smile he gave you made your heart flip again "Needed it to be perfect for you"
You took a deep breath and could practically see the thoughts playing through his head. He was worried, worried that the trust he'd carefully built with you was gone, that he'd lost you for good. "One more thing" you spoke and his eyes shot up to meet yours "Anything"
The tone of his voice alone made your heart flip and heat rush into your stomach. "Kiss me like you mean it?" A smile slipped onto his face before he quickly covered the area between you, pulling you into his arms.
You'd kissed Benny a thousand times but this one was so damn full of emotion, the way he kissed you made your head swim. By the time you pulled away to catch your breath, both of your chests were heaving slightly "I love you more than I ever have or ever could love anyone else. I've lived the last two days thinking I lost you and I don't want to ever face that again"
You laughed lightly, ducking your head down to place a kiss on his neck "We are hunters Benny, that doesn't normally bode well" He pulled back to look down at you and you couldn't help but laugh "I love you too Benny. If I didn't love you as much as I do I wouldn't have gotten so damn hurt"
He pulled you into another kiss then slipped your necklace over your head. Once it was resting against your chest he tapped it gently "This belongs here and for the record I never bought her a ring. She bought herself one and told me it was our engagement ring..You're the one woman I've ever bought a ring for. You're the only woman I want"
You felt more tears slip out of your eyes but he quickly wiped them away before you said "Shut up and kiss me again Benny"
@123passwort @valeks-star
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Text
28 DAYS: FINAL CHAPTER
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Summary: Dean Winchester is an addict and an alcoholic, a USMC veteran, a father, and an older brother. As Battalion Chief with Lawrence Fire & Medical, Dean comes under investigation when he makes a dangerous and impulsive decision, defying his superiors and abandoning the team he is supposed to lead. He is given the choice to go to rehab for 28 days or jail. His lawyer insists on rehab, and Dean begrudgingly abides.
Characters in this chapter: Dean Winchester, Mrs. Butters (mentioned), Jack Kline, Meg Masters, Billie Pilgrim, Pamela Barnes, Rowena Macleod, Gabriel, Crowley (seen but not heard), Missouri Mosely, Alex Jones (seen but not heard), Lydia, Emma Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Castiel Novak, Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Casey Wood, Jo Harvelle/Victor Henriksen/Nick Iblis/Zeke Gadreel (mentioned), Sam and Jess Winchester (mentioned), Tessa Porter
Warnings/tags for this chapter: if you've read this far, you're golden xox
Words in this chapter: 5K
Author's note: Cute Sparkle Gryphon Meme
Emma driving is for @stusbunker. Love you, sis.
Thank you to Stu and to my 12yr ride or die @brrose-apothecary for read-throughs and late-night convos and for being my friends.
CHAPTER TEN
A week to the day before Dean is to be released, he and the others say goodbye to Jack. Mrs. Butters in the kitchen helps Dean bake and decorate a cake with a very cool screen print of Red Hood that Pamela found online, and Meg commandeers Jack's phone to add Pamela's, Dean's, and her own contact info to his address book.
"Hope you don't mind if I call you sometime, kid," Dean mutters. 
There's a tight, heavy knot in his chest that he can't loosen. He wants to keep in touch with Jack so he can celebrate his successes. He doesn't want to be the old Dean who keeps in touch out of fear that Jack will stumble with no one around to catch him.
But deeply woven within that knot is an intense foreboding, stoking Dean's fear of letting Jack walk out the door.
"Of course," Jack answers, distracted by his pinging phone, telling him his Uber is one minute down the street. "I'll text you."
Dean nods and chews his lip. "We can trade me-mes," he says, watching the kid not watch him. 
Dean has to actively restrain himself from pushing the flop of hair from across Jack's forehead and demanding the kid's attention. The knot spirals around his organs and rib cage into his gut.
"Meme," Meg says, trying to help Jack straighten the strap of his bag.
"What?" Dean asks.
"It's pronounced meme. Like theme," Meg answers, stepping back into place next to him.
Dean shakes his head as his heart jolts and dives at the sight of the white Honda pulling up in front of the big glass doors.
"Good luck, Jacky." Rowena appears at Dean's other side, looping an arm through the crook of Dean's elbow. "We'll miss you, sweet boy."
Meg mirrors Rowena, hooking her arm through Dean's. Dean drops his chin to his chest with a sigh, realizing how transparent his anxiety is to his friends.
"Ciao, baby," Meg bids the teenager a farewell, watching him stumble over his own sneakers toward the door.
"Bye, guys," Jack calls with a wave. "And thanks for the cake; it was really good!"
And then he's gone.
Dean starts a list of everyone with whom he needs to make amends. Emma's at the top of that list, so he always remembers how far he's come and can fall.
Castiel is the closest second.
Before Emma walked in on him with Max and Anna last year, Dean could sleep at night by telling himself he hadn't imposed on anyone or lied, cheated, or stolen. He told himself that he cleaned up his own messes and that he was just fine with death, closure, and a whole fuckin' bottle of Jack. 
Then he broke his little girl's heart. 
"Do you think you were trying to prove something to Castiel that day?" Billie asked.
"I think you know what I was doin'. Why don't you tell me what I was tryna prove?"
Billie was right as usual; Dean wanted to prove to Cas that he wasn't worthy of Cas's respect. Dean knew that kid was going to die if someone didn't go in there — and probably even if someone did — and he decided to be the kamikaze pilot because fuck everybody who still had faith in him; he wasn't worth their concern.
"The list!" Meg plops into a seat next to him with two cups of coffee. "Dean Bean, that list is hella long. You should pare it back for your first round."
She takes a sip of her coffee, handing him his as she peers over the rim of her cup.
Dean chuckles, shaking his head. "Every single person I think of makes my stomach hurt."
"Did you show it to Billie yet?" Meg slides her stocking feet into Dean's lap.
"Not yet. Meetin' with her in 10." He twists in his seat to accommodate her.
Meg nods. "Drink your coffee and keep me entertained ‘til you gotta go."
She burrows into her seat with an impish grin, and Dean smirks back as he sets to work, kneading her heels and thumbing the knotted muscles in her arches.
Four days after Jack, Meg is discharged. Pamela decides to stay beyond her discharge date for extra support from Billie and Cain. 
After their morning hike, Meg and Pamela say their goodbyes, and Pamela heads to Billie's office to plan another family session for the coming weekend. 
Dean waits with Meg for her sister Dani's arrival. Meg is keyed up and wide-eyed in the best way. Her fresh face is framed with braids on either side, compliments of Pamela, her sky blue backpack secured over her (Dean's) too-big hoodie, scuffed-up but neatly tied hiking boots, and softly worn jeans. 
Dean thinks she looks like she's headed off to college with her entire life ahead of her, and he thinks that look is fitting as fuck.
"I put Dani's number in your phone; she still has a landline." Meg rolls her eyes as she absently twists the straps of her backpack.
Mere days before Meg was admitted to rehab, Dani inherited their childhood home and land after months of legal battles surrounding the farm. After she and Meg made amends, they planned to renovate the old farmhouse together. Meg told Dean how thankful she is to have the project to keep her on her toes, not to mention her adopted niece Kaia. 
Meg's phone chimes with a text from Dani.
"She's just around the corner," Meg breathes, flicking her eyes to meet Dean's. "Three days?"
"You got it, sister." Dean pulls her in for a hug. "I'll be outta here, and we'll be 2.1 together. Right?"
"Right."
Last week, Dean and Meg realized that they had grown up less than 10 miles apart. There's not even one excuse Dean can think of to not continue their morning hikes and coffee at least once a week, and he can't wait to witness Meg's inevitable bloom outside this place. 
He sees Dani pull up and releases Meg. 
"Keep an eye on PB," Meg murmurs, pulling away and not quite meeting Dean's eyes.
Dean nods silently as Meg drops her gaze to her feet and shuffles toward the door.
"Goodbye, love!" Rowena calls from the lobby's catwalk, and Meg looks up with a wide grin and a wave.
"Take care, kiddo!" Gabe waves from beside Rowena, with Crowley lurking behind them both.
Dean wins Meg's gaze one last time before she finally climbs up inside her sister's Jeep. 
"How are you feeling about everything, Dean?" Billie asks.
He's nervous and excited, a little bit scared but mostly hopeful. He's determined to make amends with people and looks forward to seeing his little girl outside therapy and hugging his niece and nephew.
"Good," Dean answers.
Dean doesn't fool himself into believing he can repair all of his faults in 28 days. His provisional relationship with Billie was hard-won. He respects her knowledge and advice, but he'll never be open enough with her to tell her everything.
"Good," she replies. "Don't forget — 90 meetings in 90 days. Look for a sponsor..."
Billie rattles off the rules that Dean used to consider common sense. After the last few weeks, though, Dean has realized how bogus the phrase common sense is because so many people walk around without knowledge that Dean's taken for granted since he can remember knowing anything. The fact that that phrase masquerades itself as a universal truth is kind of bullshit, in Dean's opinion.
"Yeah, I remember: how long have they been sober; are they full of shit; do I like them—"
"You know I have to say these things, right?" Billie smirks and arches a brow.
Dean chuckles and nods. "Am I stealin' your thunder?"
Billie actually laughs.
The night before he leaves, Dean does all his laundry except his pajamas and packs his bag. He leaves the bag on what was Jack's bed six days ago, denying the 47th urge to call the kid because he promised himself he wouldn’t call Jack before Jack called him. 
In the dark of night, the emotions he accepted earlier at face value become garbled and daunting. He starts to see the edges of rational thought being peeled back by the demons lurking in his subconscious, slithering out to tell him that he's foolish and undeserving and will fail.
The sober experience of his darker cognition is fascinating and frightening. He takes a good chunk of time lying there, stunned to his core that he was ever blind enough to fall for this.
"Fuck off," he mutters as he rolls to his side. "I'm gettin' the fuck outta here and on with my life."
The next morning, Dean and Pamela go for a hike like usual. They have coffee, and she sits with him while he smokes.
"You gonna be OK?" he asks.
"What, without you and Megan, the 2.1 twins?"
Dean startles at Pamela's tone and arched brow.
He never meant for anyone, not even Crowley, to hear his and Meg's 2.1 mantras. It was never about their lack of faith in anyone else. It was always about their bond and shared need to hear it from the other one to get them through.
"You're not subtle, either of you," she drolls, shifting her gaze to the woods. 
"PB..."
"It's fine, Dean." She peeks back at him. "And, yes, I'll be fine, too. Once I get my ground legs back and earn more trust from my mother-in-law."
"Sammy can help, ya know," Dean reminds her of when Sam visited and heard her case. He told Dean on the spot that he wanted to help her, and Dean wasted no time relaying the message and ensuring Pamela had Sam's phone number and email address.
"He can, legally, and I'll call him." Pamela nods, keeping her eyes on the wooded area just beyond the deck where she and Dean had just walked and laughed. "But Jesse's mom hasn't let me forget for one second how much she doesn't trust me."
Dean doesn't take his eyes off Pamela's trembling profile. "Then make her."
Pamela blinks and inhales a stuttering breath before glancing over at Dean with watery eyes. She sniffles as she accepts Dean's open, outstretched hand to squeeze. 
"Thank you," she whispers, letting the tears fall. "I'm gonna miss you, ya little shit."
Dean laughs as he pulls her in for a hug.
At 12:25 PM, Pamela is seated on the desk, arching across the expanse to help Alex pick a dress for her sorority's spring formal, Rowena is explaining to Missouri the plot of the last murder mystery she starred in, and Gabriel is practically gnawing Dean's ear from the side of his head with small-talk. 
"Gabe?"
"Yeah, man," Gabe turns to face Dean head-on, cracking his knuckles and bouncing on his toes.
"I'm gonna need you to dial back the Tigger impression by at least five clicks, OK, because I'd like to be somewhat chill when my kid gets here to pick me up."
"Oh! Right. Yes." Gabe salutes Dean before shoving his hands in his pockets and turning back to watch the door. He mutters chill to himself a couple of times before the familiar deep blue BMW rolls up in front of the door.
"Oh, my word, look at that," Rowena marvels as she and Pamela join Dean and Gabe at the door. "The wee lass is all grown up! Ye must be so proud, Dean."
Dean nods. Emma's a gift that he'll work the rest of his life to deserve getting, and he'll always be proud of her. But his heart fumbles over the fact that he missed the milestone of being the one to teach her to drive.
Lydia steps out of the passenger side, waving from the curb.
"Well, go on," Pamela encourages Dean. "Get out there and show 'em what you're made of, Daddy."
Dean's heart swells to near bursting as he hugs everyone goodbye, including Missouri and Alex.
"You take good care of yourself, Dean Winchester," Missouri says with a kind Missouri smile.
"Yes, ma'am," he nods before scanning the faces of his friends and walking out the door into his future.
"How's the Casbah sound?" Lydia asks from the back seat.
Dean loves the Casbah, and Lydia knows that, but he can't answer her; he's too busy watching his baby girl drive a fucking car.
Lydia shifts forward as Emma signals, checks her mirrors, and carefully changes lanes. 
"Pretty wild, huh?" she mutters over Dean's shoulder. "Just yesterday, you were teaching her to ride a bike."
Dean huffs a small chuckle and nods his head. "Straight from a trike to a two-wheeler. No trainin’ wheels for my girl."
Emma rolls her eyes over a blush and a sheepish grin. "So. Casbah?"
"Casbah," Dean confirms with a grin of his own, turning his shaded gaze toward the horizon.
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"Hi," he starts, glancing around a circle of people of all ages and walks of life. "I'm... Dean. And I'm an alcoholic and addict."
"Hi, Dean," from the crowd.
Dean nods and draws a deep breath, struggling to keep his head up and maintain eye contact with each person. Ugly fears and insecurities threaten his spirit, but he shoos them away.
"I'm 28 days sober, and I feel... good. Went to dinner with my little girl tonight. She and her mom're waitin' for me down the street at the ice cream place." 
The strangers in the circle fidget, mumble, and nod. The tension he feels is all about himself and his inability to just blend the fuck in. He knew doing this all over again with a new group of people would be hard. Then, his eyes land on a burly, bearded guy with clear blue eyes and an encouraging smile. He holds the man’s gaze like it’s a life raft.
“I’ve only been out a few hours, so I still have to call and apologize to everyone for fuckin’ up so bad.”
The man nods, shifting forward in interest. The kind of attention the man is giving him might make him feel like a bug under a microscope under other circumstances, but the man’s earnest compassion and engagement serve to embolden Dean.
“The first call’s the biggest, but they’ll all be tough. My buddy — my best friend and former boss — that’s kinda the eye of the storm. I think if I call him first, that’ll help me get through the others.”
It feels good to think out loud and strategize, knowing his audience has been there and done that. Dean’s especially keen to learn where his potential new friend has been.
After the meeting is done, Dean makes his way over to the man in question. There are two other people trying to talk to him, and Dean starts to worry that he’s one of those guys Billie told him about who accepts everyone’s sponsorship request for status or whatever.
“...I know someone I think’ll be a good fit f’you, Sorento. Lemme reach out and see when he might could grab a cuppa coffee.”
“Thanks, Benny. Never thought my sponsor’d fall off the wagon, ya know?”
“I hear ya, brother, and I’m sorry. You take care, and I’ll get right back, ya hear?”
The taller, darker-skinned man nods before backing away, and the other person Dean thought was waiting to talk to Benny follows.
“Hey, Dean.” Benny smiles, extending a hand. “I’m Benny. Glad you could make it tonight.”
Dean nods, accepting Benny’s hand and shaking it. “Thanks, man. I appreciate your support.”
“You’ve got it, brother.” 
They chat about the ins and outs of meetings and sobriety for a few minutes until Dean realizes that Emma and Lydia are still waiting for him. 
“Well, I gotta go catch up with my daughter, but uh... thanks again.” 
Dean shifts his weight, having flashbacks to his teen years and the first time he asked someone out on a date.
“But I was wonderin’ if you were a sponsor to anyone else? Or... if you had room for one more?”
Benny smiles wide and bright. “It’d be an honor, Dean. What’s your number?”
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On his first full day outside, at 9 AM, Dean starts dialing numbers.
"Hey, Cas," he pauses to cringe at the tremor in his too-eager voice. "It's uh... it's Dean."
There's a split second of silence, and Dean almost hangs up.
"I know, Dean. I have your contact in my phone with a picture of you and Claire from Thanksgiving."
The memory of that day is bittersweet to Dean for a dozen reasons, not the least of which was Claire's mental health at the time. She'd run away from home less than a week after her mom lost her months-long battle with ovarian cancer. Cas had just gotten Claire back and decided to have a small gathering at their home to celebrate her return.
Claire didn't feel like celebrating.
"He just doesn't understand," Claire whispered through the tears that Dean worked overtime to wipe away.
"Maybe he doesn't understand exactly how you feel, honey, but he does love you."
"Does he even miss her?" Her trembling lip broke Dean's heart all over again.
"I know he misses her. He loved your mom, Claire. So much."
"He's so... happy."
Dean nodded. "Yeah. 'Coz you're home. You're his little girl and his only family. Try to understand that." 
"Dean? Are you— are you there?"
Dean jolts from his reverie and shrugs off Cas's matter-of-fact mention of that day lest it gives his demons the upper hand again.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm here. I'm calling..." Dean takes a deep breath and looks out his kitchen window to watch a couple of squirrels chasing each other through the parking lot. 
"Cas, I'm sorry. You're my best friend, and I love and respect you, but I defied your order and endangered the team. I broke at least four laws that day and put you and the department under scrutiny 'coz of my own fucked up mess. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure out that I could help myself and that I'm worth helping, and to stop hurting other people."
Cas is quiet for longer this time. Dean yearns to fill the silence or turn back time or run away and hide. Instead, he breathes through it and waits for whatever response Cas gives him because this is sobriety.
"You made it.” Cas’s tone is full of pride and satisfaction.
Dean anticipated 17 scenarios, but this takes him off-guard. Before he can ask what he means, Cas fills in the blank.
"I read about rehab and the likelihood of people making it through their prescribed programs. The statistics are 30%—"
"Yeah, and my group was only seven people, so 30% is 2.1." Dean can't help but chuckle. Cas doesn't know about his and Meg’s joke, but it doesn't matter because Cas is family, and family just gets it. 
"Well, apart from the impossibility of the existence of .1 of a human being, it's good to hear your voice, Dean. I missed you."
Dean smiles so wide his face hurts. "Missed you too, man. How's Claire?"
Through Cas's heavy sigh, Dean can hear the smile in his voice. "Claire is Claire. She missed you as well. Once you're settled, we want you to come over for dinner."
Cas doesn't rebuke Dean. He doesn't rehash the past. He doesn't tell Dean he can't come back to work — because Cas knows that Dean already knows all of that, and neither of them has time for anything but catching up and reconnecting.
"I'd love it," Dean replies. "Thank you. For accepting my apology and letting me say what I needed."
"Always. I knew you'd make it and that our relationship would endure another shift. We will always be friends, Dean."
After his call with Cas, Dean calls Bobby and Ellen. They're less gracious than Cas with their acceptance, which doesn't surprise Dean.
"You were supposed to protect your team, Dean, not put them in danger!"
Dean doesn’t argue, and he doesn’t make excuses. He listens to Ellen yell and damn him to Hell until she’s crying so hard that Bobby takes the phone away from her.
As Ellen’s sobs fade in the distance, Bobby speaks. “How you holdin’ up, boy?”
“I’m good, Bobby. Thanks for takin’ my call.”
“Never wouldn’t,” Bobby answers. “Stay strong, kid. We both love ya; she just needs some time.”
“I love you, too, Bobby — both of ya.”
Jo flat-out blocks his call. Her resistance surprises him even less than her mother’s ire. He won’t give up on Jo, no matter how hard she makes it for him. He knows deep down that she hasn’t given up on him either.
Casey’s gasp is her answer. 
“Case.”
“You OK?”
“I am. Now.” 
He lets the memories of her soft, dark eyes and gentle, capable hands loving him more than he could bear carry him through the call.
“I’m sorry, Case. I hurt you so many times, and I never made it easy to be with me. You’re a beautiful, beautiful woman, whip fuckin’ smart, and so good.”
“We’ve been over this, Dean...”
Dean doesn’t cut in where she’s left a vacancy. He won’t take advantage of her anymore. He waits for her to pick up her thoughts. He wants her to say what she means.
And she does.
“Dean, I... I’ll never regret you or resent you.”
After a moment.
“Thank you,” she whispers, and Dean knows she’s crying.
He calls Victor, Nick, and Zeke, each awkward, compulsory, and hostile, respectively, but being uncomfortable is Dean’s new normal. And, for some reason, he kind of digs it. So, he’ll continue to make amends, no matter how it makes him feel.
After a week outside, Dean and Meg finally find a hiking trail they like and a coffee place they love before hitting the Lowe's Garden Center.
“Is this a joke?” Meg pokes at the limp lavender plant with indignation. “I can’t even believe they have this out for sale.”
“What do you care? We’re not here for lavender.” 
Dean wanders a few paces down the aisle. He’s never tended a plant in his life, so he researched and decided on a spider plant to start.
“Maybe I’m here for lavender.” Meg continues to inspect the small section of drooping topiaries.
Dean stops and glares at her over his shoulder. “You told me you wanted a buncha succulents. You said you wanted a ‘cool little terrarium’ or some shit.”
“Maybe I decided to also get lavender.” Meg shrugs, lifting one of the pathetic florals.
“Now that you’ve seen the stellar selection of lavender?” Dean arches a brow.
“Maybe I want a challenge,” she mutters, squatting with one plant to compare it to another.
“Maybe, maybe, maybe...” Dean rolls his eyes and turns smack into Castiel.
“Hello, Dean.”
“Cas!” Dean takes a step back, gripping Cas’s shoulders. He can’t believe his luck at seeing him while he’s with Meg.
“Hey, this is my friend, Meg.”
He motions to Meg, who is now sitting cross-legged on the ground with three dead plants in front of her. 
“Meg..." Dean snaps her to attention. "This is Cas.”
Meg blinks up at the men from where she sits on the ground. 
“Well. Hello, Cas.” 
She abandons her brief fascination to stand up and swipe her jeans and hands clean before shaking Castiel’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
The fire chief looks adorably confused as usual, as he takes her hand in his. “And I have heard nothing about you.”
Meg side-eyes Dean, and he almost laughs out loud. She’ll drag him later for not telling Castiel about her, but the only reason he didn’t was to let her show him herself.
“Whatcha here for, Cas?” Dean watches his friends reluctantly release each other’s grip.
“Tomato plants and strawberry plants. You know how much sun our side patio gets.”
Dean nods. Before he can reply, his phone buzzes with a text. It’s the notification he set for Pamela, and his gaze darts to Meg, who’s pulling her own phone from her back pocket.
“Hang on, Cas — got a message I need to look at.” Dean pulls his phone from his pocket. When he looks down, his world tilts.
Jack’s back.
“Fuck,” Dean mutters with a sigh before snagging Meg’s worried gaze.
“I take it you’ve received bad news?” Cas asks.
“Well, it ain’t good,” Dean replies, pocketing his phone. “Dinner Thursday?”
“Yes. Claire wants dumplings. I’ve had two failed trial runs making them, so it could be an... interesting meal.”
Meg snorts at Dean’s side, drawing his attention. “Cas’s a terrible cook.”
“No shit?” Meg exaggerates with her hands on her hips.
“I need to go — get the plants and ingredients for tonight’s test.”
Meg stifles a cackle, and Dean hip-checks her. “OK, well, lemme know if I can help with the dumplings, Cas.”
They say their goodbyes, and barely before Castiel is out of earshot, Meg starts in. 
"You didn't tell me your 'weird little friend Cas' was hot, Dean."
Dean chuckles and rolls his eyes. "I thought it was implied when I said you'd like him, Megan. Just gather your sad little flowers so we can go."
“Meh, I want succulents.” 
Dean spends the entire rest day bashing himself for waiting to call Jack. He wanted to give the kid space. He wanted to respect him, and... fuck, he can’t save everyone.
He calls Benny so he doesn’t drag Meg down his rabbit hole.
“Whaddaya want outta this, Dean? To call the kid and gloat?” Benny asks.
Dean cringes. “Is that what it sounds like?”
“Little bit.”
“Man, I’m not tryna be a martyr here; he’s a kid!” Dean really believes what he’s saying just as much as he tries to see what Benny sees.
“He’s a kid, but he ain’t yours, and he ain’t you. Remember your boundaries and your goals.”
Benny’s right, and Dean’s reminded of why he chose him to be his sponsor.
“Thanks, Benny. Thanks for takin’ my call, and thanks for being a great sponsor.” 
That night, Dean stumbles across something online that stuns him for a second. It’s labeled as Cute Gryphon Sparkle Meme. It’s a greyscale drawing of a cartoon gryphon with a sort of paint-by-number chart of how to color it based on your own interpretation of the instructions like “the color that best describes ‘cute’” and “the color that first comes to your head”.
Dean shares the link with Jack, hoping he gets his phone back soon so he can appreciate just how cute it is.
One month, eight hikes with Meg, and three trips to the garden center for more plants (because Dean has now decided that he fucking loves plants) later, a familiar, feminine voice jolts Dean from his reverie in the produce section.
“Dean?” 
He turns from where he’s filling his hand cart with all he needs for the guacamole he’s bringing to Sam and Jess’s tomorrow to find Tessa Porter.
“Tessa!” Dean smiles easily at her smile and how she moves closer to him without hesitation. 
She’s fresh-faced, her hair’s in a ponytail, and she’s wearing workout clothes. Dean drops three good-sized avocados into his basket and turns his back on the vegetables to focus on the woman facing him.
“You look great, Dean. How’ve you been?”
“Thanks! You just come from the gym? You look great, too. Not at all like you just worked out or anything, but fit. Like healthy. And glowing.”
He bites his tongue to stop from shoving his foot down his gullet.
Tessa grins and chuckles quietly, peeking into his basket. “Yoga class. Making some guac?”
Dean draws a breath and nods, looking down at his ingredients. “Yeah. My brother requested it for a cookout tomorrow. He says I make the best guac in three counties.”
Tessa tilts her head and purses her lips. “Hmm. I’ll have to try it sometime.” 
She snags Dean’s gaze, and he’s suddenly out of breath. 
Does she know what he did? Is she hitting on him? Have her eyes always been that color?
“Yeah. I’d uh... I’d like to make it for you sometime.”
Dean swears her irises change color as they stand there — honey to jade to turquoise to cerulean.
After a few beats, Tessa raises her eyebrows. “Are you going to ask me for my number?”
Dean blinks then chuckles, shaking his head. “I gotta ask somethin' else first — you know about rehab, right?”
Tessa nods. “I know. And I know you aren’t supposed to date right away, but... I’d like to be friends. If that’s OK? I’ve missed seeing you around, Dean.”
“Friends,” he echoes skeptically.
He and Tessa never discussed dating before because it would have been against department policy, but that didn’t stop him from flirting with her every chance he had. Still, they had a genuine connection — which is the real reason, even in Dean’s most reckless state, that he never crossed a line with her.
Tessa nods again. “For now — friends. Think you can handle that?”
Dean holds her soft, kaleidoscope gaze for a moment before shifting his basket to his other arm and reaching into his pocket for his phone. 
“Here.” He hands his unlocked phone to Tessa. “I would very much like it if you’d add yourself to my contacts so I can call ya sometime.”
Tessa grins again as she accepts the proffered device to quickly input her name and number. She flicks her eyes to his again as she hands him back his phone.
“I look forward to hearing from you. See you soon, Dean.”
Tessa looks him up and down before turning on her heel and sauntering away.
Dean’s eyes drop to the sway of her hips, and he shakes his head. 
“Hate sayin’ g’bye but love watchin’ her walk away,” he mutters under his breath with a hearty chuckle before heading to the aisle with chips and crackers, stifling the urge to Leprechaun kick next to the bananas.
Fifty-eight days sober feels pretty damn good.
Epilogue: coming soon
Please let me know what you think!
Series Masterlist | Dean Winchester Masterlist | MJ’s Masterlist
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You Kissed Me First (Benny X Reader #3)
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You checked yourself out in the mirror once more. The dress you wore hugged you perfectly. Just as you finished adding some gloss to your lips your phone pinged. You checked it and it was your friends letting you know they were on their way to the bar. You texted back that you'd meet them there. You gave yourself one last look over and headed out. When you got there you noticed your friends sitting at the bar and you managed to grab one of the last available stools. You all talked as you enjoyed your first drink. You had just finished your second drink when a deep but soft southern voice asked "Is this seat free?". You looked over and before you stood a tall, handsome man. His eyes were a piercing blue. Something seemed so alluring about this guy.
"Um nope. All yours," you said. He flashed you a smile as he took the seat.
"I'm Benny Lafitte?" he introduced himself holding out his hand. You took his hand and shook it.
"Y/N Y/L/N," you introduced back.
"May I buy you a drink Miss Y/N?" he asked. Usually, you didn't accept drinks from a guy you didn't know but Benny seemed safe. You didn't get any dark vibes from him at all. You nodded.
"Thank you,". You two chit chatted as your friends mingled around the bar. suddenly the songs went from fast to slow as someone over an intercom announced it was couples dance hour. Benny smiled at you and stood up. Holding out his hand "I know we're not a couple but would you like to dance?". You pondered it. You weren't much of a dancer but slow dancing could be nice.
"Sure," you said taking his hand as he lead you to the dance floor. He gently placed his hands on your sides as you placed your hands on his shoulders. You and Benny danced and talked. You found yourself so at ease with Benny. By the time couples dance was over your friends had already said goodbye and gone home. "I've really enjoyed talking with you Benny," He smiled.
"One second darlin," he said as he walked over to the DJ. They exchanged a few words and Benny slipped him what looked like money. He walked back with a bright, proud smile "I bought us one more dance,". You smiled as you two started dancing again.
"That was sweet of you to buy us more time to dance," you told him.
"Truth be told Miss Y/N I've enjoyed talking and dancing with you,".
"I've enjoyed it too," you told him as you laid your head on his shoulder. Toward the end of the dance, something told you to look up at him so you did. Your eyes locked. They were so blue it was like you couldn't look away if you wanted to. You didn't even pull away when Benny gently pulled you closer. He leaned in and your lips softly touched. The rest of the night seemed to go by slow but fast at the same time. You and Benny left with each other. It just felt so right. The next morning you woke up and stretched. You got up and smiled. You had spent the night at Benny's. It was beyond words incredible. You smelled coffee in the air and followed the aroma to his kitchen. He smiled as he took in the sight of you in his shirt. "Mornin Beautiful,".
"Morning" you greeted feeling your face heat up a little.
"Coffee?" he offered you a cup "freshly brewed,".
"Thank you," you said taking it and sipping it. Neither of you knew it at the time but that kiss at the bar was the start of something beautiful.
MASTER LIST: Here
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ao3feed-destiel-02 · 21 days
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Broken Wings
Broken Wings https://ift.tt/9unLFQH by RachieCD Sam and Dean have just returned from a particularly bloody hunt and have returned to the Bunker with Dean's friend, a vampire turned fellow hunter, Benny. When they head to the kitchen, where Cas and Eileen are cooking, it 's immediately apparent that Cas is in a bad mood. Words: 1226, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, Benny Lafitte Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Kissing, Boys Kissing, Sex, Fluff and Angst, Supernatural Elements, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Falling In Love, Boys In Love, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Family, Compromise, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/Fs8dx0g August 30, 2024 at 05:19AM
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magdaclaire · 2 years
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you’re a modern day housewife
deanbenny domestic fic. inspired almost entirely by @transdisabledbearbenny, thank u my friend
 "Darlin', I'm sure that thing don't owe you any money," Benny says, his back leaned up against the counter beside Dean's cutting board. Dean snorts.
"I'm just dicing it, or whatever," he replies, blush coming up from his neck when he realizes that he just used one of Benny terms, like the first time he called all of his ingredients laid out mise en place and Benny gave him the biggest smile he had ever seen. Of course, he knew the word dice before he met Benny (unlike the word mise en place), but it's not like he had ever used it accurately before. Like, a slice and dice sorta film, maybe. Not in fine, small, medium or large, not in knowing it's different from chopping, not like knowing because of Benny's calm voice leaned over his shoulder to explain it. Benny talks so slow it's like syrup, a warm blanket, and it reminds Dean of home. Whatever home means.
"You're massacring it is what you're doing. You need three, right? Can I show you how it's done?" Benny coaxes, and Dean knows he's being coaxed, and it's a hard thing to argue against, if he's honest. Benny's got an unfair kind of charm on him.
"I can cut an onion, Benny," he protests anyway, part out of the obligation to be a bit of a dick, and part because he really can do this. Even if it doesn't look as pretty as when Benny does it. He's still capable of it. He kept him and Sammy and even Dad fed for years, and fed Lisa and Ben too when he had them, he knows how to use a kitchen knife! It's just... it's not untrue that it used to be said that Dean's food was better for eating than for looking at. That's what food is for!
"I know, baby. Would it be okay if I did it for you?" Benny asks, and Dean's face warms all over again. Benny gives him a sweet smile, equal parts love and teasing. Dean scoffs, rolling his eyes.
"You're an asshole," he says, but his voice is far too fond and he hands Benny the onion anyway, backing away from his own cutting board. Benny turns and sidles up to it in that way he does, smooth and confident, and just the motion of him make Dean want to kiss him. Be kissed by him. All of it. Benny fucking Lafitte. Benny's hands are careful and sure as the fingers of his left hand take a curled position with every swipe of his knife, his knife hand wrapped steadily around the blade. There's nothing about him that isn't ten shades of sure of himself. It'd have Dean some kind of flustered if he wasn't also frustrated.
"Why's it gotta be cut like that? What was wrong with how I did it?" Dean asks, incredulous. Benny raises an eyebrow at him, first onion neutralized, and grabs the other.
"When you cut one, you take this end," Benny says, his thumb swiping over the stem end, "and you cut it off. When I was in school, we were taught that the stem keeps the onion together, and that if you cut it off, the entire onion falls apart. What I do, what I was taught, is to cut off the other end to give myself a flat surface, then turn it onto that and cut it in half. Now you got two half onions with the anchor. Peel the skin off, slice and dice to your hearts content." He does as he's saying as he explains, and so when he's done explaining, two halves of peeled onion are sitting on the board, uncut.
"You gonna finish that?" Dean asks, hopping onto the counter. If Benny is gonna take over for a bit, far be it from Dean to stop his ambitions. His favorite parts are the actual cooking and baking parts, not the knife work and prep. Benny loves both with a zealous that inspires Dean more than he would like to say. He wishes he could love anything like Benny loves a kitchen.
"Gonna get me to do all your dirty work, Winchester?" Benny asks, but he's smiling, and Dean doesn't feel the need to make himself small. Instead, he grabs one of the tomatoes from behind the cutting board.
"Are tomatoes dirty work?" he asks, and Benny laughs. It's a nice sound, rich and warm, and it always makes Dean feel good to have inspired it. Benny takes the tomato out of his hand. It looks like an apple in his hand, almost small, round and ripe and able to be eaten plain. Dean pushes himself back onto the counter further.
"Tomatoes are fine work. Want me to take care of your peppers too?" Benny asks, and Dean just nods. He always puts the peppers last now; Benny taught him about oils in peppers and knife contamination (though peppers are not nearly so bad as meat, and the oil can just be wiped away if you're strapped for time; knives have to be washed after cutting meat, apparently), so Dean always puts his peppers last now, meat after that, to keep the same knife the whole time and keep it safe. Benny'll leave the meat for him to cut without asking, because Benny knows that he likes it. And of course Benny knows. They've probably done this three or four dozen times, this song and dance in where his vampire best friend/boyfriend teaches him how to cook and takes over to cook for him regardless, too in love with the kitchen for Dean to even want to stop him. Being a live in is making him go sappy. He feels like a shitty, old-timey housewife, his 1950s husband taking over when he doesn't know what's what.
Except, they're both men, and Benny is older than the 1950s, and Dean actually loves Benny. Wait a fucking second.
He actually loves Benny.
"Fuck," he says aloud, and Benny looks him over.
"I'm holding the knife, how'd you manage to cut yourself?" the vampire asks, and it's only just then that Dean realizes he's bitten through his lip. Benny's smelling his blood, and all he looks is worried. A soft feeling blooms unbidden in Dean's chest.
"I didn't cut myself, I just- I'm in love with you. I think. That's crazy, right?" he asks, laughter spilling out of him like he's a sieve holding water. Benny puts down his knife and grabs a paper towel, wiping off his hands before they come up to hold Dean's face, Benny stepping between his knees.
"Maybe it's a bit crazy. But we've never really been quite right, have we?" Benny asks in a whisper, kissing Dean slow and careful like he's something precious. Dean holds onto Benny's forearms for all he's worth, giving Benny back all the love he gives, and his lip is bleeding still, and it should hurt, but it doesn't. He doesn't realize he's leaning back until his head hits gently against the upper cabinets, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to knock them apart. Benny is halfway pulled up into his lap by now. Dean grins.
"Like it, then?" he asks, because Benny doesn't have to say it back, but it's nice to be wanted. To be desired. For somebody to just like that he's around. Benny kisses him again, quick and brief.
"Like you, baby. In love with you. Want you to stay," Benny says, his voice going quiet and raspy, and it sends shivers through Dean. With Benny nuzzling up into his throat, nosing and licking but never biting, everything is fuzzy when it comes to Dean's mind. To stay? To be wanted to stay? To be with Benny in their little world away from the world, Benny working at one of the local restaurants and Dean getting familiar with the local mechanics shop, just how they've been doing, to be able to keep doing this.
"Jesus, Ben, you're gonna get me used to this," he says quietly, his fingers curled up in Benny's hair. The vampire pauses at his eager pursuit of Dean's windpipe, pulling back a bit. Dean holds back his reflexive whine.
"That's kinda the point, sweetheart. Want you to get used to this, used to me, want you to wake up everyday happy and safe. Doesn't that sound nice? Sleeping and I'll keep watch, make sure nothing ever comes after us again. We could be safe,"
"I can take care of myself, you know," he reminds Benny, lips firmly pressed together. Benny chuckles.
"Darlin', I know you're more than capable. Is it so hard to believe that I don't want you to have to?" Benny asks, and Dean can't help the answer that follows.
"Yes," he says, plain and simple and right to the point. How's he supposed to think that he's not supposed to take care of himself? He's been doing that since he was four years old, it's been the bare minimum expectation the whole time. He doesn't realize how hard he's clinging onto Benny's arms until the other man dislodges his fingernails, which had dug a bit into his skin, wordlessly to put his palms to Dean's face. It's always so embarrassing how careful Benny is with him, fine handed like Dean is made of glass, like he's worth something. His fingers twist into Benny's shirt.
"Oh, sweetheart. Somebody's expected far too much outta you for far too long, huh? Why don't we put a pause on dinner, if you're not too hungry. We can go lay down for a while and I'll come back and make it in a bit?" Benny asks, that coaxing note back in his voice, and laying down sounds pretty fucking nice, as long as Benny is there.
"We'll come back and make it?" Dean offers as a compromise, not wanting to let off that he doesn't really want them in different rooms right now, but that's so goddamn clingy. Benny smooths his thumbs over Dean's cheekbones even when he doesn't say it, wide fingers catching on his stubble. Benny leans forward to rest their foreheads against each other.
"Sure," he says, smile soft. "Alright if I carry you to bed?"
"I can walk," Dean protests, but it's token at best. He was never really carried as a kid, after a certain point, one which is easily sorted out if one thinks about it. It's nice to be picked up now, even when it's not in a sexy way. Even when it's just Benny taking care of him. Whatever that means.
"Let me carry you anyway?" Benny asks, and Dean gives in, nodding. There's nobody else here. It's just him and Benny in their hideout house kitchen in North Carolina, the location a compromise they came to because Dean wasn't willing to go to Louisiana. He won't live somewhere it's always hot. North Carolina sure isn't cold, but it isn't Louisiana either. "Alright, sugar, hold on," Benny says, and as soon as Dean's arms are settled around his shoulders, he lifts Dean as if he doesn't weigh a thing.
They leave mise en place out on the counter. It's their house to leave it in.
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deancasbigbang · 10 days
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Title: Restless Man
Author: Casslesschaps
Artist: Sasanka-27
Rating: Explicit
Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Past Castiel/Kelly Kline, Minor Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, John Winchester/Mary Winchester
Length: 25000
Warnings: N/A
Tags: Alternate Universe, Rancher Dean, Ranch Hand Castiel, Fluff, Smut, ‘90s, Cowboys, Slow burn, horseback riding, openly bisexual Dean Winchester
Posting Date: October 14, 2024
Summary: Castiel is in the wrong place at the wrong time when a fight breaks out in a dive bar in middle-of-nowhere Wyoming. Sheriff Sam Winchester realizes Cas is a drifter and gets him a job on his family horse rescue run by his brother Dean. The plan was never to stay, but things keep happening to keep him there until eventually, he strikes up an unlikely friendship with the green-eyed cowboy that leads to much more. Neither of them is prepared for the passionate fire that ensues. But, as fires so often do, they're both about to get burnt when it comes to light that Cas is on the run. Dean's always believed in second chances for the horses he rescues, but with Cas, he's not so sure.
Excerpt: “But you’re so…” Cas didn’t know how to end that sentence so he just gestured to Dean. “So what?” A mischievous smirk played across Dean’s face, a telltale sign he thought he was going to say something hilarious. “Ruggedly handsome? Strong and extremely masculine?”  Cas rolled his eyes, but he felt his cheeks heat up. He looked away. Dean wasn’t those things. Well, he was, but objectively. You couldn’t look at Dean and not notice those things. Hence Cas’ curiosity about Dean being bullied about not being ‘manly enough.’ “Not what I was going to say, but sure. For argument's sake.” “For argument's sake, what?”  Cas sighed, Dean really thought he was witty. He was not. “We’ll say you are all those things.” Dean locked eyes at Cas and honest-to-god batted his eyelashes. “What things?”  “You know what I’m talking about, I’m not gonna boost your ego.” Cas pushed his chair away from the table and walked to the bottom of the steps, “Are you guys ready yet?” “Stop rushing us, asshole!” Jo yelled back. Cas chuckled and heard Dean laugh too. He turned around and Dean had joined him at the bottom of the stairs.  “So you admit those things are true?”  “Huh?” Cas had forgotten what they were talking about. “You agree that I’m handsome?” Dean winked and then wagged his eyebrows obnoxiously.  “When did I say that?” Cas scoffed and pushed past Dean to go back into the kitchen.  “What, you can’t admit when a guy is objectively handsome?” “Frankly, the fact that you keep calling yourself that is concerning.” Cas snarked back. It was kind of fun bantering with Dean. He was quick, not exactly witty, but still a little funny. “You know, just because you call a man handsome, doesn’t necessarily make you a homosexual,” Dean quipped.  Cas didn’t dare turn back around to face Dean. He didn’t want Dean to notice how much he was blushing. Dean didn’t sound like he was making fun of him or being insensitive. It just really caught Cas by surprise to hear Dean speak so freely about that.  “I never,” Cas let out an awkward cough, “I never said it did.” “I’m just sayin’,” Dean remarked, “I can admit that you’re handsome.”
DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule
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writethelifeyouwant · 2 years
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
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Bad guy
Summary: MoC!Dean needs to get out and let off some steam, and Donny’s bar serves up the perfect girl. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: MOC!Dean, rough sex, d/s vibes, slut shaming, light bondage, daddy!Dean, daddy kink Word Count: 5.2k (oneshot)
Be thankful
Summary: Thanksgiving at Jody’s house sported a pretty impressive spread, but when Dean walks in on Claire enjoying a different kind of spread, he can’t resist joining in and reminding her just what she has to be thankful for this year. Pairing: Dean x Claire x Kaia Rating: 18+ Tags: M/F/F threesome, age gap, bisexual threesome, dom/sub themes, degradation, dirty talk, oral sex (f rec), fingering, orgasms Word Count: 817 (drabble)
Birthday Surprise
Summary: When Y/N is hurt on a hunt, it’s not major, but she still decides to stay home in the Bunker to recover instead of joining Sam and Dean on the next one. Down a person, and needing some magical assistance, the boys enlist the help of Rowena. Dean is brooding the entire hunt, blaming himself for Y/N’s injury, and nearly getting himself hurt due to his distraction. Rowena, fed up with Dean’s baggage, decides to give the man an early birthday present in the hopes of making him feel better about everything. Pairing: Dean x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: brooding Dean, Dean’s self-loathing, Sam & Rowena bromance, the gift of knowledge, the consequences of knowledge, unintended consequences, masturbation, public masturbation (kind of), simultaneous orgasms, kissing, implied oral sex, surprise fluff Word Count: 5.2k (oneshot)
Caught In A Trap
Summary: On the night of the transformation, Dean stumbles into a snare, ending his night’s frivolities injured and trapped. Y/N comes across the Alpha and offers to let him recover in her cabin nearby, but Dean doesn’t want help from some little Omega; he doesn’t need it. Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: Dub Con, shifter Alpha, a little more werewolf-y than normal A/B/O, Dean’s an asshole, Omega heat, hate sex, rough sex, claws / scratching, oral (f rec), fingering, p in v, knotting, hint of praise kink, bit of dirty talk Word Count: 3.1k (oneshot)
Good Influence (Part 1)
Summary: Jody thinks having Sam and Dean around is a good influence on Claire and Alex. Claire has stopped acting so aggressively and Alex is starting to come out of her shell a little more; if only she knew the real reason why… Pairing: Dean x Claire Tags: teenage angst, dirty talk, Daddy kink, female masturbation, pussy spanking Word Count: 2.1k (mini series part)
Lost
Summary: When Dean finally finds Castiel in Purgatory, their reunion is all consuming. Pairing: Dean x Castiel Rating: 18+ Warnings: Non Con/Withdrawn Consent, Major Character Death Tags: Destiel, hint of Denny, Lovers to Enemies, Erotic Cannibalism kinda… IDEK ok Word Count: 1.1k (oneshot)
Monsterfucking
Summary: Hi, my name is Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and monsterfucking. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Benny Lafitte Rating: 18 Tags: Omegaverse, Purgatory, Monsterfucking, Alpha!Benny, Alpha!Dean, Top!Benny, Bottom!Dean, Bi!Benny, Bi!Dean, Outdoor Sex, Oral Sex, Brief Blood Kink (he’s a vampire guys, what did you expect) Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Knotting Word Count: 2.3k (oneshot)
Thanks for the Pie
Summary: Random drabble to fill this bingo square, not to be taken too seriously 😂 Pairing: Dean x Jody Rating: 18+ Tags: non hunting AU, friends with benefits, oral (f rec), sex in the kitchen, bad puns Word Count: 604 (drabble)
The Levee Broke
Summary: Dean and Cas have been dancing around this for as long as Cas could remember, he's just been waiting for the levee to break. Pairing: Dean x Castiel Rating: 18+ Tags: pining!Cas, first times are awkward, making out, car sex Word Count: 2k
Wait For Me
Summary: Dean wants to blow off a bit of steam on his own, so he leaves Sam to his research and hits up the local watering hole.  Pairing: Dean x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: one night stand, bar hookup, semi-public sex,  attentive lover, mutual comfort, touch starved, volume control, dirty talk, praise kink, orgasm control, a teensy bit of breath play Word Count: 4k
117 notes · View notes
mlmxreader · 6 months
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Beggin' | Benny Lafitte x gn!reader (🍋)
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ Can I request “I wanna hear you beg for me to fuck you” and size kink with Benny please
I'm a s*ut for this man I mean look at him ❞
: ̗̀➛ Benny can be a really fucking mean tease when he wants to be.
: ̗̀➛ anal sex, anal fingering, begging, enthusiastic consent, rough sex, swearing, spit/drool, size kink, praise, sofa sex, dom/sub dynamics, BRIEF Daddy kink, biting kink
↳ MINORS & AGEESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+ ONLY
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
The sun was shining brightly as a temperate weather began to settle in, making you wish that it would stay that way forever; usually at this time of year, Louisiana could be so bloody humid and sticky, but days like this were a fucking blessing and then some. As always, Benny would be working the night shift, which you always hated but you knew why he did it so you didn’t complain. 
You watched as he pottered around your kitchen, his shirt wide open until he took it off and tossed it aside to expose his magnificent body. Benny was a big guy, with his stomach hanging over the edge of his trousers and his large chest; his thick arms and the slowly greying hairs that sat on them as well as his navel and across his chest.
You began to bite and chew at the insides of your cheek, thinking about all the things he could do to you. How he was so big that overpowering you would be so easy.
He noticed you looking at him, and smiled as he winked at you. It made you squirm as you sucked in a harsh and unsteady breath, knowing just how easy it would be for him to pin you down and wishing that he would already. 
But Benny was far from fair, and knew all the right buttons to press to tease you and to get you going.
You hated him for it, even though you loved him for everything else in the world that he did and was. 
To play his game was easy enough, though, so you slowly began to unbutton the first few rows of your shirt until it gave him the smallest peek of the top of your chest, enough to draw his attention for a few seconds too long for it to be just a mere glimpse thrown your way.
You began to unfasten your belt, but before you could start to free it from its loops, Benny was stood between your legs, towering over you with his hands digging into the back of the leather sofa at either side of your head. 
You were all too aware of just how big he was, trying to hold back an excited whimper but it was all in vain. He tilted his head to the side, hunger in his pale blue eyes as he dragged his tongue along his bottom lip. Slowly, you reached out, and put your hands on his large bare chest as your breath hitched in your throat.
You swallowed thickly, all too able to feel how cold his skin was, sending a delightful shiver down your spine as you squirmed and wished that he would pin you down. 
“You gonna keep teasin’ me, sugar?” Benny asked, his voice a low and harsh growl, his grip on the sofa getting a little tighter.
You reached up, about to kiss him when he gently grabbed your throat and pushed you away slightly. “I could ask you the same thing, don’t you think?”
He chuckled softly, gently tracing your skin from your jaw down to where your shirt was buttoned. His cold fingers making you shiver and shake until you moaned softly and bucked your hips. Desperate and needy for him already.
“Oh, sugar, I wanna hear you beg for me to fuck you ‘fore I even think of doin’ anythin’ to ya.”
You wanted to scold him and tell him that he was a bastard for teasing you so much. With a soft growl, you bit down on the middle of your tongue to keep yourself from moaning. “Please? Please, can you fuck me? I promise I’ll be good, please. Come on, please? Benny, please? Pretty please? Benny, I promise I’ll be good.”
Benny hummed as he considered your plea for a moment, but then he shook his head and he smiled. “Little bit more now, c’mon.”
“Benny!” You almost cried out as you pleaded, a mere whine. “Please, stop teasing me! Fuck me, please!”
Finally, he caved as he leaned in and kissed you with a harsh move; you kissed him back immediately with just as much fervour and hunger, moving to let him straddle your waist and pin you down with your back against the seat of the sofa.
His thick forearms on either side of your head as he grinned down at you upon breaking the kiss; you laced one hand in his hair and the other at the side of his jaw, his greying beard tickling the palm of your hand and making you laugh quietly.
He was so big, and being so close only made it worse for you. Unable to even try to suppress the moan that left you when he put his thigh between your legs and allowed you to grind down against it; your moans began to get louder, aware of his big arms and his large stomach, his cool body temperature. 
You wanted to call out his name, especially when he put his hand under your boxers and began to play with you the second you gave him explicit consent to do so; he was always so keen on that, never doing anything without your say so.
But he got you all riled up and needy for him before he pulled away entirely, pausing for a moment to admire you before he softly tutted and shook his head.
“C’mon now, sugar, don’t be shy - why don’t ya tell Daddy what you want?”
You growled in frustration as you did your best not to buck your hips against him. “Please, I need you to stop teasing me and fuck me already!”
“I didn’t ask what you needed,” Benny grinned. “I asked what you wanted.”
You let out a long hiss as you rolled your eyes. “I want you to fuck me, please. Please, Benny? Just fuck me.”
Licking his lips, Benny disappeared for a moment before coming back with the bottle of lube from the bedroom; he was quick to help you undress, and even quicker to use his thick fingers to stretch your ass open with aid of the lube. 
“Face down, ass up,��� Benny told you, and when you got into position, he growled softly. “You remember the safe word?”
“Baguette,” you told him.
Benny praised you softly, but you soon heard him unzip his trousers and push the fabric down, and when you felt the tip of his cock against your ass, you immediately pushed back and began to grind against him; but Benny didn’t waste time, looming over you as he angled himself up before slowly easing into you.
It hurt a little where his dick was so fat, stretching you out even more so that you could really feel the pressure. You moaned loudly as you pressed your forehead against the arm of the sofa.
A soft whimper of his name escaping you.
Benny stalled, giving you time to adjust as he made you sure you felt just how fucking big he was, as well as to catch your breath. But then you began to move, and Benny hummed lowly as he began to roll his hips, feelling you writhe and try to get as close to him as you possibly could, moaning his name. 
He loved how tight your ass was, just as he loved the begs that eventually came from you as well. The very second he heard that, he amped up his pace, rutting into you with harsh and long strokes - unable to deny that you were so warm and took every inch of his thick, fat cock so fucking eagerly.
He leaned over and sank his teeth into your shoulder, leaving his mark on you - claiming you as his and only his.
You could feel your release getting close already, his cock stretching you out so much that you knew you could never be with anyone else. Desperate to match his pace and eager to do so, chest heaving as you gripped the sofa as tight as you could without breaking it. Fuck, Benny was good.
His cock was so fat and his arms so thick, his chest and stomach so fucking big. He leaned against you, showing you just how much bigger he was, and you couldn’t help it, bucking your hips and trying to get every little touch you could.
The pace he was fucking you was relentless, making you rock back and forth with each stroke and each snap of his hips.
Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, legs shaking and toes curling as you loudly called his name, sweat dripping from your face; you were a little sensitive and raw, but begged Benny to keep going as he trapped you beneath his body and the sofa.
Your tongue lolled and fell from your mouth and over your lip, a long string of drool dangling from its tip as you begged him to do whatever he wanted to. 
Benny grabbed you a little harder, one hand at the side of you while the other took your jaw. Forcing you to turn your head to the side and look at him before he ran his tongue across your bottom lip as you opened your mouth; he was quick, crashing your mouth against his as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.
Your tight asshole starting to clench around him and milk him as he began to cum at last; his thrusts getting slow and sloppy until he pulled out once he was sure he was finished. Watching it dribble out before he smiled and smacked your ass playfully.
“Now ain’t that just the nicest sight in the world?” He hummed, taking a moment to admire his handiwork before he gently helped you up. “You wanna get in the shower with me?”
You nodded, clinging onto his large frame as you let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, just make sure the water’s actually hot this time, please?”
He grinned, softly kissing you as he nodded. “I will, I will.” 
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katelyn--renee · 4 years
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Out of the Fire (Part one)
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Title: Out Of The Fire (Part one)
Fandom: Supernatural AU
Main Characters series: Reader, Lieutenant Firefighter!Dean Winchester, Lawyer!Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester (Moore), Nurse!Lisa Braeden (Formerly Winchester), Ben Braeden-Winchester, Harper Winchester (OFC), Charlie Bradbury, Firefighter!Benny Lafitte, Firefighter!Jo Harvelle, Firefighter!Castiel Novak, Claire Novak, Mechanic!John Winchester, Firefighter Captain!Ellen Harvelle, Mechanic!Bobby Singer, Doctor!Arthur Ketch, Nick Vaught and many more!
Pairings: Dean x Reader (eventual), Dean x Lisa (past), Reader x Nick (past), Lisa x Ketch (current), Sam x Jessica (current)
Word count: ±2500 words
Series summary: A slow burn romance. Reader is trying to get away from her troubled past and start fresh; a new name, new town, new friends, and a new job. A clean slate. After years of planning and saving, she is able to open her own business. With the help of her best friend and business partner, Charlie Bradbury, and her new flirty firefighter friend, she is hopeful, even when disaster strikes and her past threatens to catch up with her years later. 
Part one summary: Fire erupts and engulfs her beloved business, but something arises from the ashes and ignites a new desire.
Warnings series: NSFW, 18+ only! Fire or mentions of fire, fluff (so much fluff), angst, eventual smut, mutual pining, alcohol abuse, alcohol intoxication, mentions of domestic abuse (physical, verbal), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of adultery/cheating, mentions of death, dangerous or life threatening situations, stress, descriptions of injuries, blood, hospital scenes, character death. 
Author’s note: This is my first series and my first attempt at an Supernatural AU. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. I will try to release new chapters at a timely fashion, but as we all know, life sometimes gets in the way. 
A special thank you to @that-one-gay-girl and @deanwanddamons for being the wonderful beta’s that you are! Your feedback is always appreciated! Check out their awesome work and spread some love!
All dividers and graphics done by me! 
If you like this story, please don’t hesitate to leave a like, comment and if you’re feeling extra generous, share! Your feedback gives me live and motivation! 
Thank you and let’s enjoy this ride together!!
Out of the Fire Masterlist!
Interested in more of my work, check out the link below.
Masterlist
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It was so hot… Why was it so hot? And why was it so hard to breathe? 
You stirred from your position on the tile floor, the long lashes of your (Y/E/C) eyes fluttering lightly as you woke. The first thing you registered was the intensity of the heat that surrounded you, quickly followed by the tightness of your chest as you struggled to take a deep breath. A vicious cough ripped through you with the effort, your throat raw. 
You winced, your face scrunching with discomfort. You stirred again, needing to get up and move, to get away from the threatening heat, but your body protested with the effort. Your head was hammering, your brain  pounding against your skull with every forceful beat of your heart. 
What the hell happened? 
You groaned as you brought a hand to your head, feeling something damp and slick against your skin. Blood. You forced your eyes open despite their heaviness, a futile attempt to gather your bearings; you couldn't see much through the thick, black smoke that hung in the air around you. Another cough tore from your lungs and stung your throat.
Fuck. That hurt.
You sucked in a rigid breath, wheezing as the smoke filtered in through your lungs. Get up! Move! You needed to get moving and find a source of fresh air, find somewhere safe, and quickly, before the smoke suffocated you and the flames consumed your body. 
You scanned your surroundings swiftly, trying desperately to make every second count. Red hot flames licked the southwestern walls of the building on your right, engulfing everything that stood too close. That was where your office had been located, meaning the exit would be behind you, to the northeast. However, the counter separated you from your freedom, standing tall and stretching out and into the north wall, obstructing your path. The layout would force you to find another way around and take up so much of your precious time.
Rolling off your back and onto your belly, you supported your weight with your elbows and knees, making  a point to stay as low to the ground as possible. You forced yourself to move, driven onward by adrenaline and the sheer will to survive. You were not going to die like this.
You army crawled through the rubble and debris that was once your beloved café, ignoring the way it made your heart clench with sorrow. Now was not the time to grieve. You needed to stay focused. Your life, literally, depended on it.
There was a loud crash somewhere in the distance - perhaps it was the ceiling caving in from structural damage, you weren't entirely sure - but the sound of it was startling and shook the floor beneath you, causing you to instinctively freeze and cradle your head, bracing yourself for impact.
A small yelp of surprise escaped from your throat as your body trembled with fear. You couldn't move, your muscles refusing to cooperate even though your brain screamed at you to do so. 
There was another crash, much closer this time, as the flames ate away pieces of your heart and soul; all the years of hard work, burning to ash. You'd put everything into that little café, and now it was, quite literally, falling in around you. A ceiling beam landed  in front of you , engulfed by flames and blocking your path.
You jerked back and shielded your face from the inferno with your arms, the skin burning from the intense heat. "Oh god," You cried out without realizing it, any hope of escape beginning to slip away. Tears filled your eyes and spilled over your lashes, streaming down your soot-covered cheeks as dread began to creep its way in.
Just breath, stay calm, you're okay, you told yourself, trying to prevent the lingering panic attack. You exhaled slowly, struggling to remain calm,  willing the tears away. You banished them from your face with a swipe of your hand as you searched for another way out. With your back pressed against the counter to try and ground yourself, you pictured the floorplan around you in your head, trying to reassess where you were and which direction to go.
The kitchen. There was an employee exit through the kitchen. Changing direction and crawling back the way you came, you began your frantic crawl toward the swinging metal door. Your limbs felt like concrete as you forced yourself to move, and even though your vision started to get spotty and dark around the edges, making you feel nauseous, you kept on going, putting one arm in front of the other. 
Just a little further. Don’t give up! But it was so hot, and you were so, so tired... 
Just then, when you thought you weren't going to make it in time, you heard it… the most beautiful thing in the world.
"Anyone in here?!" He called out, his voice booming out over the roar of the flames. You could see the beam from his flashlight strapped to his shoulder, even through the thick wall of smoke. "Y/N?! Answer me, sweetheart!"
Your heart swelled with hope again as you recognized the man who was searching for you. Even though he sounded muffled through the oxygen mask covering his handsome face, you would recognize that voice anywhere. 
It was Dean.
Dean, the firefighter you've grown so fond of these past few weeks, was here to save you.
You shifted on the floor and craned your neck to try and see him. "D-Dean! I-" A harsh cough interrupted you, "I'm he-here!" You cried out, your voice hoarse from the smoke. You went into another coughing fit, this one much rougher and longer than the others. You gasped for air, your lungs tight and constricting in your chest.
"I hear you, (Y/N)!" You heard him quickly respond, his voice gaining in volume as he grew closer. "Guys, over here!" He called out to the rest of the crew before following your voice. "I'm coming, sweetheart! Just hang on for me!"
"De-" You tried again, but your voice gave out. Your eyes grew heavy from exhaustion, and your body began to shake with the exertion and lack of fresh oxygen. Your head spun and your vision blurred as Dean came into view, the counter dividing the two of you. 
In one effortless move, you watched through droopy lids as Dean vaulted over the counter and landed on the other side, his heavy boots thudding against the tile. He was now only an arm’s length away from you. You wanted to reach out for him, to touch him and make sure that he was actually there. But your limbs wouldn’t cooperate, feeling like stone at your sides.
He crouched down beside you and gripped your hand tightly as if reading your mind. His glove was thick and rough against your palm, but the material didn’t dampen the emotion or firmness that Dean put into the reassuring gesture. 
With apprehensive, yet determined emerald eyes, he quickly assessed your body for any obvious injuries that would raise concern, ones that could be worsened or become life-threatening if he were to move you. He must have been satisfied with his examination, the look in his eye becoming slightly more hopeful. 
His actions were rushed yet calculated as he removed his red lieutenant helmet, the mask quick to follow. His hair was tousled and sticking up in odd places. If this were any other, less dire situation and you were able to speak, you would have teased him about the messy heap on his head. 
You heard one of the other firemen protest his actions, warning Dean that it was against protocol to remove his mask and put himself, and in turn everyone else, in more danger. "Fuck the protocol." Dean shot back over his shoulder sternly as he slipped the mask over your head, his large hands surprisingly delicate and gentle, even through the rough material of his gloves. 
"There you go, sweetheart," He said a bit softer, turning his attention back to you. "That's it. Nice, deep breaths for me." He coaxed, nodding his head. "Good girl." He flashed you a brief, yet dazzling smile as you inhaled, following his instructions.
Your body rejoiced as the purest form of oxygen-filled your lungs, easing the tension inside of your chest, only momentarily. You struggled to keep your eyes open and focused on the beautiful man above you, his forest green eyes filled with so much concern. "Good girl," You heard him coo again, securing the helmet back onto his head.
The building creaked and groaned, threatening them with another collapse. Dean glanced up at the ceiling, his experience telling him that their time had been cut in half. You felt his large hands on your body as he scooped you into his strong arms, protectively holding you against his chest. 
"I've got you." He muttered assumingly, trying to keep you calm as he rose to his full height, lifting you with ease. He scanned the surroundings, and you saw a hint of a frown tug at his lips, noticing the scowl on his brow. The fire was closing in, limiting his options and growing hotter by the second. 
You made a motion toward the only exit available, lifting a shaky hand to point him in the right direction, and Dean seemed to have noticed your silent instruction. His eyes followed your finger, darting to the window on the metal door that framed the kitchen. He nodded before letting the others know, directing them to head back out through the front. They hesitated only briefly, knowing they’re not supposed to leave anyone alone, before following Dean's lead, trusting their lieutenant's judgment. 
The experienced firefighter moved with determined strides, having wasted enough time as more of the building began to collapse down around the pair of you. There was a crack, and a loud pop from the ceiling as the building shifted again. The fireman shielded you as a few clusters of hot debris and flames fell from above, protecting you from the fire. One of the balls landed and burst onto his shoulder, the flames licking at his face. He shrugged it off with a low grunt, gritting his teeth through the sting of his cheek. 
He refocused and took three large steps toward the kitchen, his heavy boots crunching the rubble beneath his feet as he closed the distance to freedom. Using his foot to force open the door, he let out a breath of relief, grateful to find that the exit was still a clear shot. 
Despite the combined weight of his bulky gear, the oxygen tank strapped to his back, and the extra body cradled in his arms, Dean made good time and jogged toward the sizable steel door, determined to get you to safety. 
Once again, he grunted through clenched teeth and lifted his powerful leg, the sole of his thick boot connecting with the push bar. The force of the impact caused it to swing swiftly on its hinges and crash against the brick wall. 
Smoke billowed out from the now open door as Dean rushed out into the alley behind the café, sucking down gulps of fresh air. He grunted and coughed, staggering briefly before correcting himself. You wanted to ask him if he was okay, wanted to comfort your rescuer, but couldn't seem to find your voice.
The nighttime air was cool against your overheated skin, despite being this close to the fire, and it made you shudder in Dean's arms, goosebumps rising over your sensitive flesh. The firefighter shifted you in his strong arms, getting a better, more comfortable hold. Your head was nuzzled in the crook of his arm, giving you a perfect view of his handsome face.
Flashing red and blue lights bounced off the brink surrounding you and lit up Dean’s face, highlighting his strongest features. You’d never seen anything quite like it, but then again, you’d never been this exhausted before. Surely your head was playing tricks? You gazed up at him in awe, studying the determination that hardened his usual gentle features. His face was dirty with soot and darkened by the smoke, covering the freckles that normally adorned the bridge of his nose. His jaw was lined with stubble, emphasizing just how strong it was. There was a noticeable red patch on his cheek, the skin irritated and angry from the burn. 
You were vaguely aware of the familiar, yet frantic, voice of your best friend and business partner, Charlie Bradbury. Her voice, regardless of its urgency, was drowned out by the sirens, fire hoses, and roaring flames behind you.
Sleep was beginning to linger at the forefront of your mind, tugging firmly and trying to force you into the blissful darkness of unconsciousness. You struggled to keep your eyes open, not wanting to give up the extraordinary view before you. But, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep them open any longer, and your (Y/E/C) eyes fluttered shut, despite your best efforts to keep them open and on the face of your rescuer. 
You could hear the muffled voices of your redheaded friend and the first responders that surrounded you, specifically Dean and Charlie, but you couldn't quite make out what was being said, the drowsiness making it hard to stay focused. You felt yourself being moved, and the noise died down drastically as you were lifted and strapped down to something solid yet oddly comfortable as you fought to stay awake. 
You peaked your eyes open, although they burned from all the smoke, you fought through the sting in search of your rescuer, but was met instead with the inside of an ambulance. It was bright, and the fluorescent light hurt your sensitive eyes. 
Something warm and made of thick wool was draped over your body, stealing your attention. You refocused and spotted the green eyes you had been desperate to find. You never broke his gaze as the fireman's mask was removed and replaced by a much smaller one. You grabbed at his hand desperately when he shifted to leave, desperate to have him near. 
His eyes dropped to where your hand touched his, and his expression softened almost instantly at your attempt to stop him, his large hand embracing yours. “They’re gonna take real good care of you, sweetheart.” He assured, his affectionate gaze turning back to you as he offered you a closed-lip smile. You could hear Charlie’s voice, sounding somewhere close by, but you couldn’t concentrate on anyone other than your hero. 
Your vision darkened around the edges, and your grip on consciousness was growing weak. Your hand loosened from Dean’s grasp and fell limp as your eyes fluttered shut. “I’m right behind ya.” He promised as the paramedics ushered him out so they could get moving. His voice was the last thing you heard before the ambulance doors slammed shut, and the darkness of unconsciousness took over.
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Thank you for reading I hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned next week for part two!
Read part two, here! -->>
Taglist!
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Out of the Fire (series)
@vicmc624 // @anotherspnfanfic // @krazykelly // @compresshischest09 // @thefamilybusiness
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