#Likewise Baby

[zepskies]

Smoke Eater - Part 8

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥 Series Masterlist

AN: Just wanted to say thank you so much for all the amazing feedback on the last chapter! I work hard on all of these, but I agonized over Part 7 in particular lol. Really wanted to get that balance right. 😉

Word Count: 6,400 Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Angst, fluff, suggestiveness, implied sexual harassment, and a (sort of) cliffhanger.

Part 8: “Likewise, Baby”

You woke feeling delightfully warm. Your eyes cracked open. Though the room was dim, the window behind you had horizontal blinds that were letting in a bit of light.

You cradled the pillow beneath your head, with your hand tucked under your cheek. And you weren’t alone.

Dean was sitting up against the headboard beside you.

He was already dressed in a faded gray Fire Department shirt and sweatpants, with his long legs crossed over the navy comforter. He sipped at a mug of robust-smelling coffee while holding an iPad in the other hand, occasionally scrolling with a finger.

A slow smile cleared some of the sleepiness from your mind. You should’ve known he’d be an early riser, considering his job, but you were pleasantly surprised that he was just sitting with you, waiting for you to wake up in your own time.

Breathing in deep, you stretched out your legs under the sheets. The sound earned Dean glancing away from the screen, and then his smile aimed at you.

���Hey, beautiful,” he greeted. You hummed sleepily in response.

“Sleep good?” he asked.

You nodded and braved swimming through the sheets to snuggle closer to his side. After setting aside his mug and iPad, Dean welcomed you over with a hand soothing down your back. You curled against him, resting your head against his chest.

He dropped a kiss onto your wild hair. You still wore his shirt from last night and nothing else, but you felt the warmth of his hand through the fabric, rubbing up and down your back. You slipped an arm comfortably around his middle and let out a soft sigh.

“I see you’re not too chatty in the morning,” he teased.

You made a sound of agreement. “You wore me out, Lieutenant.”

And you hadn’t felt this relaxed, this warm and comfortable and safe, in a very long time.

You also felt Dean’s chuckle reverberate through your chest. His hand came up to pet your hair, and he pressed another kiss on the top of your head.

“Likewise, baby,” he replied. Cheekiness colored his tone. “That record’s gonna be hard to beat.”

You smirked and huffed against his chest. After trying some of the cake last night, he’d given you another sample of his talented fingers, right there at the table. Then you’d tried to start cleaning up the kitchen, only for Dean to distract you once again.

That time, he’d settled behind you at the kitchen sink and goaded you with sinful lips along your neck and wandering hands, until you decided that your earlier promise of “next time” was right now.

You’d turned in his arms and finally found out what he tasted like, after you sunk to your knees and dragged down his sweatpants and took his waiting cock into your mouth…

Needless to say, it was a while before you both made it to a shower, and finally to bed for actual sleep.

Remembering it all made you blush, biting your lip. He let out a quiet laugh as you hid your face in his chest. His fingers slipped into your tangled hair and gently massaged the back of your head.

“Want some coffee?” he asked. You nodded.

“Need some,” you replied. “Let me freshen up first though.”

So you slowly got up, reluctance pulling at every muscle in your body. While you were in the bathroom brushing your teeth and fixing your ridiculous hair, Dean cleaned up the rest of the dishes from last night and poured you a steaming cup of coffee from the carafe. He didn’t remember how you liked it, but his intuition said you liked a bit of sugar and creamer.  

He found himself smiling like an idiot, until something Meg said rolled through his head again.

Goddamn. I am twitterpated.

With that thought, he immediately shook his head to rid himself of it.

You padded back into the bedroom to find your dress…and your panties, for that matter. While you were getting dressed, a phone buzzed on one of the nightstands beside the bed. It was Dean’s phone.

You went over to it curiously as you fixed the straps on your dress. The screen showed a missed text message from last night, around 10:00 p.m., and another one this morning. You read the latest one with a sinking feeling in your chest.

From Marissa: Surprised I didn’t hear back from you last night. The offer still stands. 😘

You knew it was wrong, but your finger scrolled to see last night’s text preview.

From Marissa: Hey, been thinking of you… ❤️ I’m free tonight if you want to come over. You always look so good in my bed. 😉

You were beginning to feel sick to your stomach. You forced deep, even breaths through your nose as you sat down on his side of the bed, and you contemplated doing something you knew you’d probably regret.

You’d seen Dean unlock his phone enough times to remember his passcode. Your thumb hovered over the keypad…

Again, you knew it was wrong. You’d never, ever done this to someone in your life, and if he caught you at this, he’d probably be pissed.

But you couldn’t help yourself. You unlocked his phone, and you found the girl in his text messages. While you saw that he hadn’t even looked at the message, and hadn’t even spoken to her in a couple of months, the previous text messages were a sick siren song that you couldn’t help but fall into.

However, you could only read a few of the old ones before you became disgusted, and you quickly minimized his text messages. You reminded yourself that you didn’t have a right to be reading this, or to be jealous, for that matter.

Those messages were before he even met you. It just didn’t change the fact that reading them, and hearing his voice in your mind while talking explicitly dirty with another girl still stung. 

Another thought whispered in your mind. You’re already here. Might as well…

Biting your lip, your thumb shook as you went into his contacts. You saw familiar names: Benny, Cas, Dad, Eileen, Gordon, Jo…but those were followed by unfamiliar ones. Haley, Jackie, Kat, Lisa, Lauren, Marissa, Nadia, Olivia, Priya, Rachel, Serina…

What the fuck! He’s got the whole damn Kansas Directory of Sluts in here! you thought in both alarm and disgust.

So consumed were you that you didn’t hear Dean coming down the hall, nor did you see him appear in the doorway to his own room with a fresh mug of coffee. 

“Hey, so what do you want for breakfast…” His question died on his tongue the moment he saw you with his phone (and an angry, perturbed look on your face). His brows furrowed as he entered.

You were caught red-handed, and you knew it. Guilt and hurt and anger radiated under your skin in equal measure, though you set his phone down for him on the bed and met his eyes.

“You got a booty call from Marissa,” you said. “She misses you in her bed.”

“So you snooped through my phone?” Dean levied at you. The warmth in his tone was gone, though his still handed you the mug of coffee and grabbed the phone. His contacts were still open on the screen.

“I shouldn’t have,” you testily agreed. “Believe me, I regret it now.”

You stood, set down the mug on the nightstand, and began searching the room for your sandals. You didn’t think you could stick around for breakfast.

Dean’s jaw locked, and he let out a sharp breath as he watched you.

“So you’re leaving?” he asked incredulously.

“Why, don’t you need to check on your side piece?” you shot back.

Dean huffed in irritation. You bent over to put on a sandal and nearly toppled over as you lost your balance. He got up, but you managed to catch yourself and held up a hand against him helping you.

You straightened and looked up with him with steel in your eyes, where last night had been all softness and fire. It reminded him of when he saw you square up against your boss. No nonsense, no inches given. He remembered then that you were a real pistol when you needed to be.

“Okay, Nancy Drew. I’m sure you saw that I haven’t hit up that girl in months!” he said. He wanted to be patient with you, but his temper was already snapping at the invasion of his privacy.

Yours was snapping right back, as your hands went to your hips.

“Dean, you’ve got an entire catalogue of ‘Pussy On-Demand’ in your phone!”

Frowning, Dean held his hands out wide in a what do you want from me gesture.

“Look, I was honest with you about my past,” he tried, but you cut in quick.

“Is it your past?” you asked. Your heart pulsed with pain at the thought, but you had to ask. “Or were you still talking to these girls, even seeing these girls while you were ‘wooing’ me? I mean…I guess I don’t have a right to complain. We never explicitly said we were exclusive—”

“All right, stop. For the love of Christ,” Dean said in sheer frustration. He approached you with caution. You were still frowning and testy, but you allowed him to grasp your upper arms.

“First of all, I didn’t even see that text. Because I was preoccupied with you. Second, no I wasn’t seein’ anyone but you after our first date. And third…” His lips pressed together.

This last one was tough for him to admit, even embarrassing. You were waiting for him though, probably with the last shred of benefit of the doubt you had left for him.

He sighed, brushing your arms with his thumbs. “Before last night, I hadn’t had sex in a couple of months.”

Your brows went high at that one, only because the weight in his voice told you that two months was a big deal for him. (For you, it was child’s play.) Remembering that laundry list of names, though, you had to agree.

You eventually relented, your shoulders relaxing a little.

“I’m sorry I looked through your phone,” you said again, more sincerely this time. “I’ve never done that to anyone, ever, and it’s not who I am. It’s just…you’re making me a bit crazy.”

A smirk pulled at Dean’s lips. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

You reluctantly smiled and pushed at his chest with a half-hearted hand. Sighing, he pulled you in close. You allowed yourself to rest against him, and even slip your arms around his middle and tangle your fingers into the back of his shirt. Dean pressed his lips to your hair.

“I might be playing a lot of this by ear, but I told you. I’m not playing around,” he said. “I want to try being with you. Just you.”

After a moment, you nodded. You looked up at him, resting your chin on his chest.

A smile tugged at your lips.

“So what you’re saying is, you’re my boyfriend.”

Dean’s smile grew as well. “I mean…yeah. If you’re on board.”

You nodded and leaned up for a kiss. “I could be persuaded.”

He met you there with both passion and sincerity as his lips glided over yours. Your fingers dug into the muscles in his back, spurring him to hold you tighter against him. The weight of his hands felt deliciously good against your lower back. 

“Stay for breakfast,” he said between heated kisses and panting breaths. “I’ll cook this time.”

You remembered that you had to check on your grandfather. You’d texted him before going to bed that you were staying over at Dean’s place. George had already been asleep, but he answered you this morning that everything was fine. Still, your instincts warred between wanting to make sure, and staying here a bit longer.

Your curiosity was piqued, however.

You paused against Dean’s lips. “You cook?”

He looked down at you with offense at your surprised tone.

“I’m a damn good cook,” he said, his brow waggling. “What do you want? Pancakes, eggs and bacon, or something more chill, like oatmeal or something?”

Your stomach began to percolate at the mere mention of food.

“Yes,” you replied with a grin.

Dean’s amusement crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Someone’s hungry. Worked up an appetite, huh?”

“Starving,” you admitted. Your hands moved down his back, feeling how some of the muscles there contracted. Looking up at him through your lashes, you added, “But I’ll take whatever you give me.”

Dean laughed and kissed you again. 

“Oh, I’ll give you plenty, naughty girl,” he promised against your lips.

Thank God it’s Saturday, you thought. You inhaled the coffee Dean made for you before taking another sip. It was delicious, and you had to make a mental note to buy the same brand the next time you went to the grocery store.

You peered out the small kitchen window while the smell of food continued to stir your appetite. Really is a cute neighborhood. The building overlooked a nice little park. Already there were people jogging, walking their dogs, parents with their children heading to the playground.

You liked where you lived as well, but the two-story house was a bit much just for you and George. It also needed some work done, of which you hadn’t gotten around to taking care of with how busy you’d been lately. Not to mention your car, which was occasionally starting to shake when you accelerated past 50 miles per hour.

I really should ask Dean to look at it. Bet he’d relish the challenge of reviving an old car.

Then a small ding alerted you to the toast, now ready to be buttered. You were helping with the smaller things while Dean worked on the eggs and bacon.

You also heard the front door unlock. Soon enough a tall man with dark, long hair down to his shoulders entered the kitchen with a workbag on his shoulder and a small overnight bag. He wore a smart-looking, but simple suit, chestnut brown.

“Hey,” he greeted Dean, but his hazel eyes widened a fraction when he saw you. “Oh, hi there.”

Dean turned his head and smiled.

“Hey, Sammy,” he said. “Come meet my uh…my girlfriend.”

Your face heated up at the way he glanced at you with that smile.

Hear that? Official girlfriend status.

You also tried to hide your excitement as you introduced yourself to Sam Winchester. He shook your hand with an amiable look.

Dear God, you thought, noting his height, and his broad shoulders that rivaled Dean’s. Winchesters are massive.

“Finally. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he said.

“Same here,” you agreed, matching his smile. “Really good to meet you, Sam.”

“And how is it you always make it right on time for breakfast?” Dean teased. He was pouring the scrambled eggs out of the pan and into a large bowl.

“Just good timing,” Sam replied, smirking as his brother rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, how’s Eileen?” Dean asked.

“Good. She had her students help her decorate the classroom for the fall this week,” Sam said.

He fished out his phone and showed you and Dean the pictures. The two of you had your heads bowed close to the phone. Dean wore a smile at the sight, while you cooed at the adorableness of Eileen with her students.

They seemed to be elementary school age (between seven and ten years old, if you had to guess). They’d done the Thanksgiving turkey hand for arts and crafts, even though the holiday wasn’t for a couple of months. One of the boys had taped it to his forehead.

“They’re so cute!” you gushed. “I remember doing that in elementary school.”

Dean shot you a grin. “You like kids, huh?”

Sam’s brow quirked. Mr. Serial Bachelor was joking like that already? 

Meanwhile, you sent Dean a narrowed look, despite your blushing smile. Never mind that you two had just established the seriousness of your relationship about five minutes ago.

Honestly, you were surprised that having kids was even on his radar…but for the first time, maybe it was starting to be on yours too.

And that alone was a shocking revelation, considering how career-driven you’d been up until now. It was even somewhat scary, just how quickly this man had buried his way into your heart.

“Yeah, and what if I do?” You laughed and carded your fingers through his hair, but you made sure to tug on it a bit. “Clearly I need to be careful with you.”

“That’s probably best, as a general rule,” Sam interjected. He smirked at Dean’s flat look.

“All right, all right,” Dean waved at him. “Help me get the plates.”

The three of you talked and joked and laughed all throughout breakfast. You and Sam had a fair amount in common, speaking of your respective experiences in college, with him following into law school and you with culinary school. He told you more about his work at the District Attorney’s office, and about how he and Eileen had met.

Then you and Dean told the story of how you two met, from each of your perspectives. You recounted how it had been Nick’s fault that you’d been in that elevator to begin with, grabbing his latte, of all things. You remembered how goddamn hot it had been in that elevator, how no one could hear you, how you’d been doing your best not to freak the hell out.

And then you heard his voice. “Fire Department!”

The save was pretty standard, from Dean’s perspective. But he’d noticed you, even in your coffee-stained blouse and skirt. He remembered the way you lost one of your shoes.

“And I mean, ridiculous fucking high heel,” Dean said to Sam. He held his hands apart several inches, making you laugh at his gross exaggeration. “I got no clue how she walks in ‘em.”

Dean also relished retelling the moment you later stood up to Nick with gusto.

“I thought she was gonna chuck it at the guy’s head, Psycho style,” Dean said. He mimicked holding the shoe like a knife stabbing from above.

You laughed and covered your face with your hands. “I wasn’t that bad!”

Dean chuckled, but he rubbed your shoulder.

“Nah, it was awesome. I remember thinkin’, this girl’s a badass.”

You lowered your hands and glanced over at him, letting your smile peek through.

“Oh yeah?” you asked.

“Class and style, baby,” he said, giving you a wink. You shook your head, despite your amusement, and how his words touched you.

“Says the guy who literally rappelled from the roof like Batman,” you said with a smirk.

“Ooh, Batman. Here that? I’m taking it.” Dean’s brows rose, and he shot Sam a grin.

To which his younger brother rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you’re Batman.”

You giggled into your hands. His brother’s sarcasm was nothing new, but Dean enjoyed seeing you laugh after all the tension this morning. He took one of your hands away from your face so you couldn’t hide anymore.

You looked over at him. When your eyes met his, somehow you were captured again.

Sam watched carefully from his side of the table. He watched his brother, and was hardly able to believe what he saw. He continued to sip his coffee, all the while hiding a certain smile behind his mug.

You left the apartment a short while later, despite offering to help clean up. Dean knew you wanted to get back to your grandfather and didn’t want to hold you up, but he still walked you to the door and made sure you had everything you needed before you left (including a leisurely goodbye in the doorway that had his old neighbor Gladys tsking as she walked by).

He eventually returned to the kitchen to help Sam finish cleaning up, thumping him on the back while Sam was trying to wash the pans in the sink. Sam uttered a grunt, but his lips edged at a smile at Dean’s obvious good mood.

“I take it last night went well?” Sam asked knowingly.

“Yeah, good thinkin’ on staying at Eileen’s,” Dean smirked back. His mind rewound the evening: having you cook for him, the shenanigans that interrupted your baking lesson, and also the baking, and the cleaning up.

His smile only dropped a bit when he remembered the arguing part.

“Well, there was a rough patch,” he admitted. At Sam’s questioning look, Dean explained how you’d looked through his phone…and what you’d seen on it.

“She apologized, but it was a tough go of it for a second,” he said.

Sam had finished the dishes by now. He stood leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. He sighed through his nose.

“You want my advice?” he asked.

Dean quirked a wry smile. “Something tells me I’m gonna get it anyway.”

Sam nodded. “You just need to take the ‘L’ on this one. Don’t hold it against her.”

Dean’s brows knitted together as he frowned.

“Oh yeah?” he said in full sarcasm. “Is that what I need to do?”

He loved when his brother when full Dr. Phil on him.

“Listen,” Sam said. “Yeah, what she did was wrong, but her concerns were understandable.”

Dean took that in, carding his fingers through his hair.

“You can’t assume that she can read your mind, Dean. On your intentions, on how you feel—any of it.” Sam leveled him with a more serious look. “She’s taking this as it comes, just like you are. And she’s taking a chance on getting hurt, just like you are.”

Damn it, Dean thought. He especially hated when his brother made sense.

He was quiet for a moment, until something occurred to him.

“You think Dad would like her?” he asked.

At that, Sam’s smile broke free. Dean’s gaze flattened in annoyance.

“What?” he asked.

“If you’re willing to subject her to Dad, I know you’re serious.”

Dean rolled his eyes. He stole the last leftover piece of bacon from Sam’s plate and headed for his room.

I think he’d like her.

“So how’s it been going?” Andréa asked you.

The two of you were finally getting a chance to have lunch together in the staff breakroom, for the first time in about a month. You blamed it on your busy schedules, but you knew it also had to do with the fact that you both had new men in your lives.

You had been reaching out to your friend a couple of times a week to check in, sometimes even offering to grab dinner or catch a movie after work, but Andréa always seemed to have an excuse. You didn’t think she was pulling away from you intentionally… It did hurt though.

You just supposed you should be grateful that she showed up out of the blue in your office, asking if you had time for lunch.

“Work is…well, the usual,” you replied.

Nick was still an asshole who made your life harder and more stressful with every interaction. He changed his mind on deadlines, or better yet, forgot them entirely. He often got drunk while schmoozing with CEOs and representatives of potential accounts.

He also sucked at paperwork, which meant you often had to redo it, or get his assistant to do it. And he still pitted you and Josh and other teammates against one another (Paul had quit last week due to the pressure).

But all that, you could handle. What bothered you more were the “harmless” comments threaded with innuendo. The lingering looks he gave you, seizing you up from breast to toe.

You’d taken to wearing pants exclusively, instead of skirts, and flat shoes instead of heels, just to try and put him off. You maintained your professionalism and always kept several chairs between you and Nick in meetings. Though you dreaded moments where you had to be alone with him. Those were the times you were on your guard the most.

Thankfully, he hadn’t done anything outrageous since the last time he was drunk before a meeting. As in, you hadn’t had to threaten going to HR again…yet.

And these things you kept to yourself. You didn’t want Andréa to worry. Or worse, for her to try and get involved, and earn Nick’s eye on her next.

“What about with Dean?” Andréa asked, breaking you from your thoughts.

You brightened with a smile. That you would happily share.

“Good. Like really good,” you said. “I mean, we had our moments this weekend, but…I really think this could work.”

Andréa shot you a sly look, though her smile said she was happy for you.

“Oh wow. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so smiley,” she teased. “What is it with these firefighters at Firehouse 25? God sprinkled them with something special, I swear.”

You eyed her with amusement. “Oh yeah? How are you and Benny doing then?”

And that seemed to be the exact question she was waiting for. She turned to you fully and grabbed your hand.

“Oh, girl. I have so much to catch you up on,” she said.

You smiled at her indulgently. You truly wanted to hear everything she had to say. You wanted to hear about her disastrous first meeting with Benny’s family, especially with his father. You wanted to hear about how she was able to turn it all around with a bit of charm and a few funny stories.

You wanted to hear about their impromptu sailing trip last weekend, and the plans they were already making to go to Greece next summer if all went well. Andréa and Benny were clearly a whirlwind romance in the making, the stuff of good old-fashioned rom-com legend, and you wanted to hear the story unfold.

You just couldn’t help a small thought in the back of your mind…that she wasn’t quite as invested in your life as you were in hers.

A couple of weeks later, you parked your old Camry on the side of the road. You didn’t want to block any part of the driveway at Firehouse 25.

Oh good, they’re not on a call, you thought. The truck was there, along with the Squad truck and the ambulance. A full house.

You smiled and first smoothed down your sweater dress. It was mid-November with a chill on the air, and it also gave you an excuse to break out one of your favorite dresses, made of warm brown wool, but still cute with your knee-high boots. 

You pulled out the large plastic dessert carrier resting on the passenger seat. It held not one, but two large cakes. You wanted this treat to last a little bit longer than a few hours this time.

You walked up the driveway, smiling as you greeted the Squad men playing poker at a square table just outside the building. A couple of them eyed you in curiosity, and maybe even with recognition. Though you had to swallow a bit of nerves as you pushed past the familiar glass doors of the firehouse. 

The first person you saw (that you actually recognized) was Meg. She sat in the common room with her feet crossed and perched on the dining table. She was reading a book, but her head perked up when you came in. She stood and left her book on the table as she waved you inside.

“Hey there,” she said.

Remembering what happened the last time you met the paramedic at the Roadhouse, your smile was a bit thin.

“You must be real special,” she’d remarked, gesturing at Dean. “He usually doesn’t bring his girls around here, where he actually likes to hang out. Guess that’d mean he’d have to see ‘em again with the lights on.”

Despite the less than stellar memory, you tried to be polite.

“Hey, Meg. How are you?” you asked.

“Sober,” she answered frankly. Her head tilted as she let out a short, self-deprecating sigh. “Uh, sorry about last time. I have a bit of a mouth when I’ve had a few.”

Your smile became a bit more genuine. Before you could say, That's okay—

“Oh no, that’s her resting state,” a familiar voice wryly interjected.

You brightened when you saw Dean striding in from down the hall. He met you with a grin, as well as a kiss that lingered on your lips. Meg’s brow rose.

He eventually pulled away, but his hand stayed on the small of your back. He looked happy to see you, and it secretly warmed you down to your toes.

“To what do I owe this surprise?” he asked, his green eyes gleaming. He noted the dessert carrier hanging from your hand with interest.

“I come bearing gifts.” You raised your offering. Dean took it from you with both hands and boyish glee.

“Mmm, I do love me some cake,” he said, licking his lips.

You had to laugh. Firefighters do love food.

Or maybe it was just Dean.

“Remember, you’re meant to share,” you teased.

“No promises,” he muttered. But he still brought it over to the kitchen. Even Meg followed the two of you, peeking over his shoulder in curiosity.

“What kind is it?” she asked.

You gave her a smile. “Orange, cranberry, and poppyseed, with an orange glaze.”

Her eyes widened, but you could tell she wasn’t sure if she was intrigued or not.

“Trust me. It’s like lemon poppyseed, just more orangey,” you promised. “And even a bit sweeter.”

Dean grinned at his friend. “She went to culinary school.”

He said it proudly, which warmed you. Though you bit your lip in slight embarrassment.

“You don’t have to say that,” you said with a nervous giggle.

“Why not?” he protested. “It’s true.”

Meg surveyed you both with a knowing smirk while Dean set up your cakes with a cutting knife and some paper plates.

“It’s still early, but the droves will come soon enough,” Meg said wryly, and she nodded at Dean. “Have you shown her around yet?”

His brows rose. “Around the house? No, as a matter of fact…”

He turned to you with a smile and offered his hand. “Got time for a quick tour?”

You smiled. It was Saturday, and you had a rare morning where you had nowhere else to be.

“I do now,” you agreed. And you took his hand.

Dean led you past the humble kitchen to the barracks, where there were several rows of cots. They were empty and made up with white sheets and dark green comforters.

“We’re all busy by now, but we stay quiet around here,” he explained. “Especially during night shifts, of course.”

He showed you where the bathrooms and showers were, along with passing by a large, closed office. Through the frosted doors, you could see a man talking firmly into a desk phone.

“Is that the Chief?” you asked.

Dean nodded. “Yep, that’s his office. Good ole’ Bobby.”

A scoff made both of your heads turn. Benny gave his friend a wry brow raise.

“Only this one gets away with callin’ him that,” he said. Though he gave you a kind look and touched your shoulder. “How are ya?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you smiled at him. It was just a bit weird for you, knowing he was dating your best friend.

You felt like you knew him from everything she’d told you, but you hadn’t actually been around him that much in person. Everything you knew about him had been pieced from stories you’d heard from either Andréa or Dean.

“I hear ships are sailing with you and Dre,” you quipped.

Benny chuckled with an imaginary tip of his hat. “Well, you’ve heard right.”

At Dean’s slightly curious look, Benny filled him in about his and Andréa’s sailing trip last weekend.

“Who the hell goes sailing in Kansas?” Dean remarked.

You had to laugh a little. “Andréa’s family owns a yacht club. They go boating on the river, mostly. But she goes to Greece every year…and I hear you’re planning to join her.”

Again, you looked over at Benny with good-natured teasing. He took it with a smile and a nod, even taking Dean’s raised eyebrows. His growing smile told you that his friend would be taking some shit about this later. And Benny knew it too.

“All right, I see you guys were in the middle of somethin’. Let me not get in the way,” Benny graciously bowed out with another chuckle. 

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, Captain, my Captain over here’s gotta find a parrot,” Dean ribbed.

Benny just rolled his eyes and gave a lazy wave as he departed.

You gave your boyfriend a bemused look. “What is he, a pirate?”

Dean shrugged. His grin was contagious.

“I just can’t picture that dusty lumberjack on a yacht,” he said. “God, what’s the world coming to?”

You shook your head and bit your lip against a giggle.

“All right, what’s next on the tour?” you asked.

Dean hummed, but after a moment, he brightened with an idea…and a sly look. He took your hand and led you over to a small side room behind the barracks. He opened the door and led you into what was essentially a cubicle, complete with a desk, chair, desktop, and a document filing unit, except it also had a cot in the far corner.

“Step into my office,” he said, gesturing with a hand. You gave him an impressed brow raise as you ventured inside.

“My man’s got his own office? Complete with a bedroom, I see.”

“Yeah. Benny’s got one too, since he’s Captain of the Rescue Squad,” said Dean.

You made note of this with another impressed hum. You then sat down in his comfy office chair and twirled around, before you began perusing his desk area. It was a bit cluttered for your tastes, but you had a feeling Dean was an “organized chaos” kind of guy.

Dean remained standing with casually crossed arms. He watched you trace a finger around one of the picture frames he had on his desk, though he had a few.

There was one of him and Sam after he graduated from law school, cap and gown and all. Another was one of Sam, Dean, and John on one of the rare camping trips they did when they were kids, for Dean’s 13th birthday.

“That’s my dad,” Dean supplied. He pointed at the man, handsome, salt-and-pepper beard, dark eyes, and broad shoulders. Your brows raised of their own accord as your eyes blinked wider.

“Wow, look at that silver fox. I see where the handsome genes came from,” you teased.

Dean’s lips curved in amusement. “I’ll tell him you said that.”

You gave him a sidelong glance and playfully jabbed at his side. But you returned your attention to the last frame.

The picture inside was of a beautiful blonde woman, holding a newborn baby bundled up in her arms. You could see his small pink face peeking out, as well as a little boy cheese grinning over her shoulder. Your attention lingered on this one.

“Is that…”

“Yeah. That’s my mom,” Dean confirmed.

“She’s beautiful,” you said softly.

“Yeah, she was,” he said with a nod. And a thought filtered through his mind, one he spoke without really thinking about it. “Wish she could’ve met you.”

You turned to him more fully then, with a bit of wonder hidden behind your eyes.

“Yeah?” you asked.

Something in Dean’s chest clenched, but he grazed your cheek with his thumb and nodded, giving you a reserved smile. It hadn’t been that long at all since he met you. Just a couple of months. He couldn’t deny it though. It was true.

“I think she would’ve liked you,” he said with a shrug. Like it wasn’t such a big deal.

You both knew that wasn’t the case.

You stood out of his desk chair and went to him, gripping the front of his gray lieutenant’s shirt. You leaned up on your toes for a kiss that almost immediately deepened. Dean cradled your cheek with one hand and pulled you in close by your hip with the other, but you were the one who licked sensuously into his mouth.

He hummed deep in his throat, pleased and a little surprised when you pushed at his chest. He took your cue to step back, leading you along with him when he sat down on the edge of the neatly made cot. He guided you down by your hips, but you didn’t sink down into his lap the way he expected.

Instead, you slotted his right thigh between your legs and took a comfortable seat. You slid up his thigh with slow friction, giving him a small smile as you twined your arms around his neck. A smirk graced his lips as he held your hips.

“Don’t pretend like this wasn’t your plan all along,” you said.

You’d caught the look in his eye before he led you into his office. It made you wonder (with a tremor of unease) just how many women he’d given the “grand tour” of his office…

But you couldn’t let yourself fall down that train of thought. It was a futile thing that would ultimately just upset you, and no doubt would frustrate him. Whatever he did before he started dating you was his business. You just had to focus on the here and now…

And right now, you could already see the half-pitched tent in your boyfriend’s uniform pants as he began to touch you.

“You’re the one who came prepared, Little Miss Easy Access,” Dean remarked. His hands slid up your thighs, bunching up your dress the farther he went. Your lower belly clenched in anticipation when he brushed the edge of your panties. “Maybe I wasn’t the only one with a plan.”

A more amused smile grew across your face, despite the blush warming your cheeks. Something had just occurred to you.

“There’s no way we’re allowed to do this here,” you whispered, but Dean’s grip on your hips was already encouraging you to rock against his thigh.

“No one’s gotta know,” he replied. His voice was deeper, laced with grit. “Just try to stay quiet.”

AN: ...🫣 Sorry for leaving it there lol. But hey! Official girlfriend status! 😂 And how'd you like how they dealt with the Marissa of it all, and the reader meeting Sam for the first time?

Of course, there will be more in Part 9.~

Next Time:

“Where’re you goin’?” he teased.

You let out a quiet laugh. “I think we’ve pressed our luck enough for today.”

Dean leaned in to kiss your cheek. His lips then veered off toward your ear.

“But see, I’m pretty damn sure that pussy’s still on fire,” he said.

The depths in his voice made you shiver. Your spine undoubtedly prickled with arousal again. He smiled.

“You understand, I can’t let you go just yet.”

Keep Reading: PART 9

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 @katherineann814 @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

[sonicanary]

✨🧡🌙SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING ✨

thank youuuuuuu <3

[aingeal98]

Something about older Jason looking at the child version of himself, the innocent victim, and feeling the need to defend and avenge him the way no one else will. They'll call him reckless and try to pin the blame for his death on some unique failure of his personality, the problem isn't Robin the problem is he was just a bad fit for Robin! And then older Jason coming back to life and spits on their twisted grief. Fuck you, that innocent child deserved more. You took his memory and ruined it to make yourselves feel better. If no one will give him justice then Jason will take it himself no matter who he has to kill to get there. It's the only way he can move forward.

Something about older Cass looking at this child version of herself, this innocent who has no idea what she was doing when she was tricked into killing, and finding her irredeemable. She will forgive everyone for everything if they need a second chance but she cannot forgive that innocent child. She spends ten years wanting that child to die for their sin, a standard she holds no one else to. And in the end she does have to die. She can never forgive that child until the price has been paid and the guilty, tormented, suicidal mess of a girl is dead and never coming back. Only then can Cass live on. Only then can she smile without feeling the weight of her kill on her back. If no one will give that child the justice they deserve then she will have to do it herself. It's the only way she can move forward.

[markantonys]

hands down the funniest and most underrated ta'veren effect in WOT is rand randomly causing mass spontaneous marriage just by wandering through a given town. that should have continued to be a thing for the whole series, not just TDR. i want wedding carnage all over the continent, dammit!

[kimkhimhant]

if i had a nickel for every manipulative criminal character named neil/neal that i've fixated on, i'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened twice

[thenecropolix]

Y'all I need you to imagine an older Raz going up to Milla and Sasha on mothers day and fathers day respectively and telling them how much they were like a second mom/dad to him I need you to imagine Milla crying and hugging him and absolutely calling him her baby and Sasha trying not to cry but breaks down in front of Raz cause holy shit Raz—

[mothfables]

Legend + Ravio Nicknames for Each Other

i’ve noticed that Ravio tends to use a lot of nicknames/pet names for Legend, while Legend rarely if ever uses them for Ravio in my fics. i have a written list of what they each use, and i thought i’d put it here. enjoy!

Legend: Ravi, Rav, Ravi-bunny, Ravi-bun

Ravio: Mr. Hero, bunny, bun, honeybee, bee, dear, sweetheart, baby, darling, love

[decidentia]

Hey gang, happy weekend. ♡

I’ve really been enjoying having Royce on his own blog, and I’m now planning to curate similar single-muse spaces for my other primarys – Anri, Farkas, Odessa.

If you’re interested in interacting with any of them, please drop me a DM or comment on this post with the blog(s) you’d like me to follow you from.

This blog will remain as a multimuse, so have no fear!

[artsandstoriesandstuff]

Ginger and Gingerbread or something, I don't know I didn't grow up with this show

[summersgoneby]

if i may indulge for a moment:

i miss the smell of diapers so much. i wanna sniff a trans girls overnight diaper. i wanna dig my snout into the spot where the leak guards meet her thighs and get lost in that scent

[plushie-lovey]

Found an old pic of some plushies that are in storage currently!

[isa-ah]

sorry I could talk for hours. I've done an insane amount of character building w Isaiah over the years

[vortian]

I remember seeing some guy argue that tmnt needs to stop changing april's appearance (we know that's not entirely what he meant) because the original was the most 'iconic' and I looked at the picture he attached and it hit me that despite being a turtles fan since 2003, I had never actually seen og april before.

didn't know how to break it to the guy that most tmnt fans were not alive 36 years ago

[thedeadthree]

i'd also like 1, 3, and 16 from the oc interview questions for iryna please!! 💖💖

EEEK AJ HI HI DEAR 🥀✨😖 ty ty so much i adore u and i hope ur doing well!

OC INTERVIEW QUESTIONS

1. who makes up your family?  how close are you to them?

"who are you FEDRA? what's it to you?......" she leans forward scowling at the interviewer before shrugging. "nah i'm just fucking with you i don't care. shit it's been a while which may be.... telling on the latter part... well, there was me of course OBVIOUSLY, my parents i think are still back in the new york QZ, and then there's persey. christ i hope that little idiot is still alive. bean pole buffoon.... no really, he's like... 6'4-6'5. ondria didn't bust her ass for the giggles bringing our sorry hind ends to seattle..... swear to god. ondria knew and DOES know before the outbreak how bad i was with reaching out. better with persey than mother and daddy dearest im afraid." she sighs.

3. what is your favorite childhood memory?

the interviewer motions iryna to continue on, swearing it was pulling teeth alone to get her to come here, they're just questions not the infected. "curse my leo moon little attention reveling snake......" she really does love to talk about herself though even if she tries to hide it, "well i would have to say when i told persey that obi wan kenobi ate all of the salt and vinegar chips when it had been me all along and he didn't trust his obi wan action figure from age five to age ten..... loved messing with him good times, BUT. so before the outbreak of the killer mushrooms right, my cousins had this estate (the litvinchucks were RICH, rich) in like switzerland before they moved to dc cause their dad was this big deal nobel prize winning doctor okay, they flew us out for a christmas one year and like, their home was OLD. so i think? i was eleven? and sasha and i did like a seance or something and talked to the ghosts in the house. it was fucking fantastic. pity he's a serial killer now with a cult following but yea, that was a favorite."

16. describe your perfect day.

"am i getting paid for this? im getting paid right. if olga fixes the world and finds a cure for the killer mushrooms i need money for rent..... kidding im having fun i promise but also, i do like money." the interviewer sighs and hands her the check, "fucking sick." she pockets it, "i would have said for the longest time some damn peace and quiet right. nobody bothering me, and its me and my vasil my cat and some oil paints and like..... idk deftones or slipknot playing because music helps drown out the city noise and lets me paint. but the world ended and lately uh....... and this was a fucking shocker for me. like... i showed up to find my next hidey hole here and then i met raul so like...... i guess that but also we're doing that together and theres no city noise and so maybe the music isnt as loud because ive learned that wave sounds are fucking soothing so...... GROSS THAT SOUNDS ROMANTIC but you know what i dont care. so i blame him for that but yea, thats the ideal day i guess."

[cultofthepigeon]

quick aside: made the executive decision to bring the babies and mama in. at least until we get back above 0 degrees. they are now in my bathroom

the babies are completely unbothered

mama is having an existential crisis over the mirror