#dean/benny

[t4tvampireisms]

Supernatural posting for a second.

I’m seeing a lot of posts concerning Dean and Benny’s relationship that’re like “Benny calling Dean and telling him about how much he was struggling/asking for help was manipulative, because he knew Dean would feel guilty enough to want to help out.”

Y’all remember that discourse that was going around where people were claiming that their friends were “trauma dumping” on them, just because the friends in question were confiding in them about a bad day they were having? This exact energy.

Benny telling Dean about how much he was struggling is not “manipulative”, that is quite literally what friends are there for. If you’re only around your friends during the good times but dump them as soon as they show any kind of emotion that isn’t positive, you’re a bad person. Plain and simple.

Dean explicitly told Benny to talk to him if he was having issues, that’s why the line of communication was open to begin with. Do y’all seriously, honestly, think that if Dean wanted absolutely nothing to do with Benny after Purgatory, he would’ve given him a means of DIRECTLY contacting him?

Honestly, I think a lot of people make up reasons as to why they don’t like Benny, or why they didn’t like his relationship with Dean. You’re not required to have an answer for liking something, you’re entitled to just say “I didn’t like this”. But don’t pretend that it’s something tired to morality and use internet therapy speak to back up nonsense claims. 💀💀

[szlez]

Monster Mash

Since tumblr morality police is on the prowl again apparently 🙄 I opted for posting a cropped version of the image. Check my ao3 to see Dean and Benny enjoying each other's company thorougly 🥵🔥.

13th art for Suptober 2024 Remixed by @wigglebox and @thepagemistress based on Suptober by @winchester-reload.

Prompt 13. Monster Mash

My other arts for the event:

Prompt 1. Autumn, Prompt 2. Spa Day, Prompt 3. Royalty, Prompt 4. Birthday, Prompt 5. Scars, Prompt 6. Electric, Prompt 7. Thankful, Prompt 8. Witch’s Brew, Prompt 9. Moon, Prompt 10. Mushrooms, Prompt 11. Myth, Prompt 12. Harvest Festival.

Taglist.

Pls DM me if you want to be added to tag list or removed from it.

@aniona29, @denimshortsdean, @famouskidangel, @malicmalic, @squirrelsarecool, @writteninthestarsinyoureyes

[thenameisgul]

Tumblr had me so convinced of dean and benny’s tryst in the forests of purgatory, that I didn’t even know they tried to make the gay southern vampire who was in love with dean, a straight guy until I watched the show 😂

[myguardianangel-ina-trenchcoat]

6 Reasons I Think Dean Winchester Is Bi:

1. He checks out a soldiers ass in 1944.

2. He got flustered as hell when Aaron Bass flirted with him.

3. He got MORE flustered when he met "Dr Sexy." Later pointing out, "I thought what made Dr Sexy, sexy was the cowboy boots" - bro loves Westerns/cowboy movies. He loves Clint Eastwood. He loves Dr Sexy. Tell me there isn't a direct link there.

4. There's mourning the loss of a friend, and then there's Dean mourning the loss of Cas. Repeatedly. His mental health plummets. Every time.

5. Have you SEEN the way he looks at Cas??? Tell me you stand that close to and/or gaze that longingly at your friends.

6. Benny. I mean. Do I really need to elaborate on this one??? You cannot tell me they didn't have a thing in Purgatory.

[stillwinchester]

it's funny how spn tried pretending dean is straight. and yet they gave him specific taste in men

[wallissa]

(Inspired by @theangiediary's DeanBenny tag on this post)

“You sure about this?” Benny shifts just a little closer, until Dean's shoulder brushes his chest.

Dean can't feel his breath, but the fine hair at the back of his neck stand up anyways. Hunter instincts, probably. That, or the fact that nobody has gotten this close to him in however long he's been in this twilight place. That's a thought he does not need right now, so he huffs, shifts. "You want a written agreement?"

That gets him a little exhale of laughter and alright, he felt that. Right against the side of his throat, making him hyperaware of how close Benny is already. Fabric rustles and he's closer, still. “Alright, Sugar. You just tell me when you change your mind.” That malt-sweet voice this close to the shell of Dean's ear seeps right into his bloodstream, making him a little dizzy. It's that mild distraction that has him jumping when Benny reaches out to touch him, cool fingertips on his neck.

"Sorry, sorry. All good, brother. Just making a little adjustment for your comfort, here." Dean wants to tell him that he doesn't need shushing, but his cheeks are burning and he bites his tongue instead. He closes his eyes and tilts his head, hopes that's enough of a sign for Benny to get a move on.

This time, he holds himself still as a damn statue when the cool fingers brush his throat. Benny is gentle, careful, like he's trying not to spook Dean. It's stupid. Dean trusts Benny. He knows he's not going to get killed. All that's going to happen is that Benny is going to lean in - Dean can feel the subtle press of another body against his - and brush his lips over Dean's pulse, before piercing his skin with his sharp teeth and sucking him down one mouthful at a time. Dean can feel his pulse in his throat, feels the heat in his cheeks, all the way down to his chest. He tries to tilt his chin, a little "go ahead" so Benny will just get with the damn program already.

That gets him a soft "That's good", right against his throat, Benny's beard brushing his skin. Heat right down his spine, sweet as sugar, and right then the subtle brush against the back of his neck tightens, Benny's palm against his overheated skin, cool and strong, a steadying grip, practised. Dean feels it, feels how that minuscule, gentle little tilt exposes the entire line of his throat, feels the strength, feels that he can't move, feels pinned in place with Benny's lips on his pulse, feels his blood rushing, down, down.

"Brother," Benny says, liquorice. Lips brushing his skin. "You might wanna count to ten, there. Might get a little dizzy."

Dean has half a mind to tell him to just kill him right on the spot.

[angel-fruitcake]

when one of my mutuals posts about a ship i don't love but i still support them and their opinions

[haley-harrison]

[annmariethrush]

Eric Kripke is gonna look me in the face and tell me that Dean Winchester, son of legendary hunter and jackass John Winchester, did not find out until the ripe age of 27 that VAMPIRES ARE REAL??? I get the whole “demons are more than most people deal with” thing, but VAMPIRES??? An absolute STAPLE of the other 14 seasons???

Every fucking thing they hunt in this goddamn season is a fucking ghost. Ffs they fight a group of fucking hillbillies and a wendigo but vampires are a new fucking deal? Jesus. And to think that in just a few years Dean will be fucking one.

[atlash0ur]

Danny Gonzales and Kurtis Connor made "I'm in love with a creeper" because they watched the s8 purgatory flashbacks. Cas is Danny, Benny is Kurtis, and Dean is the creeper.

[t4tvampireisms]

Now, You Feel So Alive

||Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester|| ||Post-Break Up Blues|| ||Flirting|| ||Bars|| ||Bikers|| ||Basically: DeanBenny, But Benny Is Like David From “Lost Boys”|| ||Kissing|| ||Handjobs|| ||Blood Drinking|| ||Of Course, What Did You Expect?||

Insanity brought to me by @boykingscourt . I hope you like it bestie. 😫🫶🏾❤️✨

—

This isn’t his normal haunt. But Charlie had insisted it’d be a good time, something to get his mind off of someone she’d cleverly labeled “He Who Must Not Be Named”. Aka, Dean’s latest heartbreak and most recent failed attempt at a relationship.

Her indignation and rage on his behalf at He Who Must Not Be Named’s tryst was something he was all for, but Dean hadn’t known that “getting him back out there” came with it as some sort of package deal.

Hence, now he was parked on a barstool nursing a lukewarm beer at some neon-lit dive called “The Dirty Dog”, a place that apparently catered to large hairy dudes clad in leather and denim-wearing barfly’s pouring their welfare checks down the drain alike. Charlie was somewhere off in a dark corner making out with a blonde grunge chick with spiked studs in her eyebrows, so Dean was left to fend off roving hands all on his lonesome.

The sounds of a jukebox rattling off classic rock and the heavy stench of sweat and tobacco provided background noise to the sudden wave of emotion sweeping through Dean’s body, surrounding and enveloping him like tar.

Moving to California was supposed to be a fresh start, and at first it kinda was; Dad had a good job, Sam was making friends with the local geeks down at the comic book store by the boardwalk, and Dean had even entered into a tentative relationship with a sweet Pastor’s boy by the name of Castiel.

Well, maybe a fresh start for everyone but him then, because Cas, as it turned out, had a particular taste for thorny brunette women named Meg, women who didn’t mind blowing him at parties with red lipstick smeared all over their faces like some sort of boring cliche.

Dean’s thumb caresses the side of his beer bottle, snorting derisively to himself at the memory of Castiel’s eyes going comically wide when he was caught; maybe Dean had just been apart of some sort of side quest to piss off a preacher, but since he’d blocked and removed the boy from his life in every way that mattered he’d most likely never know.

“Y’alright there, darlin’?”

Dean turns to his right, meeting the ice blue and calculating gaze of whoever had just decided to sit by him. He was handsome, Dean noted, features sharp and rugged with a healthy amount of stubble covering his chin and cheeks, hair dyed a platinum blonde that was almost white, teased at the top and fanned down at the sides into an almost death hawk; at this close proximity Dean could make out the smell of Marlboro’s, confirmed by the one tucked snugly behind the strangers ear.

He was alluring, beautiful, and after all the shit Dean has been through the past couple of days, he thinks he’s earned the right to a bit of flirting. Not breaking eye contact, he takes a long and slow swig from his earthy beer, licking the residue from his bottom lip afterwards. “Fine, now that you’re here.”

The stranger laughs, melodic in the way a church bell rings during a quiet Sunday morning after service. “I’m Benny. Y’got a name, handsome?”

“Dean.” He takes another pull from his beer. “You usually hang around places like this?” He asks, tilting the neck of his beer towards the sight of a grizzled older man pawing at the skirt of a girl who could’ve passed as his daughter.

“Do you?” Benny asks, watching the scene briefly before flicking his gaze back towards Dean.

A snort. “I asked you first.”

A smile, white and dazzling; a flash of what Dean thinks are unusually sharp canines glinting under the low light. “Mm. Sometimes; me and my gang, we just kinda wander. Try not to get kicked out.”

“Gang?” Dean repeats, raising a brow. “What, you in a biker gang or something?”

“Or something.” Benny smirks, eyes boring into Deans, as if he could see down to his very soul; it should’ve been unsettling, unnerving, but all Dean felt was an inexplicable magnetic pull. Like a trout on bait, waiting to be reeled in to the mouth of the consumer.

Dean’s own eyes are drawn to Benny’s hands, large hands wrapped up in worn-in leather gloves that looked fit for bike riding. The thought makes him feel warm; he’s always had a thing for bikers, especially bikers with pretty blue eyes and witty smiles.

Benny’s eyes don’t leave Dean’s as he lights up the cigarette behind his ear, the lighter itself silver and emblazoned with what looked like a skull and crossbones, only the skull itself had elongated teeth resembling those of a vampires. His lips purse as he inhales from the filter, chest rising and falling in a relaxed motion as he blows out thick clouds of smoke through his nostrils. “You feel like getting outta here?”

Dean looks around, spots Charlie tugging her latest catch towards the ladies restroom and realizes she ain’t leaving anytime soon. Any other time he’d feel bad about leaving his best friend behind, but right about now all he could focus on was the way Benny’s teeth tugged at his bottom lip, tongue poking out from between the pearly whites. “Yeah alright. Lead the way, gorgeous.”

Benny grins broadly, pushing away from the bar top as he grabs Dean’s hand and fluidly drags him through the crowd, as though they were moving to accommodate him and his movements rather than the other way around. Once the boys are outside Benny leads him towards the side of the bar not illuminated by neon signs, pressing him against the bare brick wall a moment later and capturing his lips in a searing kiss.

His stubble rakes against Dean’s skin, tongue probing and swiping inside his mouth as one gloved hand places itself by Dean’s head, the other going to cup his jaw with the thumb almost hooking into his mouth.

The leather is warm, smooth and thick, something his lips immediately latch onto when Benny’s pull away, sucking at the material and leaving it glistening with saliva. The aftertaste of cinnamon and clove from Benny still lingers on his breath, an ambrosia that leaks into his skin to leave him feeling scent-drunk and almost airy.

Benny watches him hungrily, ice blue obscured by the inky blackness of his blown-out pupils, and maybe it was just his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, but Dean could’ve swore he saw a flash of yellow in that predatory stare just a second ago.

“Beautiful.” He hears Benny murmur, pulling his fingers away to reclaim his mouth, feels as his lips travel from his jaw to his pulse point, sucking what would no doubt be bruises by morning into his skin. Dean groans, low and throaty, tilting his head back against the wall to further bare his throat to Benny, who hums appreciatively as he marks his neck.

So lost in a sea of bliss he almost doesn’t notice as the sucking becomes biting, the feeling of teeth puncturing Dean’s neck causing him to gasp and open his eyes; what he sees is Benny, still latched onto his neck, only his lips are now shiny with a mixture of saliva and blood, tongue gently and insistently lapping at the small wound he had created. He should be afraid, should pull back and shove the other boy away and tell him to fuck off. It wouldn’t be the first time a potential tango partner had gotten a bit too kinky for comfort.

But the thing was, Dean wasn’t afraid. He was enjoying every single zap and zing of pain mixed pleasure, endorphins and ecstasy flooding his body much like the first few seconds after ingesting the sugary sweet high of ecstasy.

Benny pulls away from Dean’s neck, his eyes hooded and almost completely clouded over; he looked just as high as Dean felt, lips swollen and tinged pink with ruby red liquid dripping down his chin. He looked almost animalistic, chest rising and falling with each heavy breath, the jut of his cheekbones more prominent, the tips of his ears pointed in a way Dean hadn’t taken stock of until now. Whoever, or whatever, this boy was didn’t matter; Dean wanted to be destroyed by him.

“You taste so sweet, darling.” Benny cooes, leaning in with a kiss that was more an exchange of tongue, of taste, and Dean realizes with a jolt that he is currently tasting his own blood. He couldn’t taste anything apart from copper, but nonetheless it was still new and exciting. Kissing with Cas had been nice, but they’d never gotten beyond the stage of heavy petting. Maybe it was wrong to compare his ex to a boy he’d only known for less than an hour, but it seems as though Dean was neglecting all other rational thought and feeling in exchange for hedonism tonight.

Had he already mentioned how intoxicating Benny tasted? It was as though the boy himself was a drug, tasting of spices, herbs, and sweetness, settling into his bones and bloodstream like a warm and tingly alcoholic beverage; a talisman in a (semi) human form.

The hand not braced on the wall behind Dean travels down his side, weightless and featherlight, grazing his hip and the sliver of skin exposed by a shirt most likely one size too small for him. Nimble fingers trail along the waistband of his pants, dipping ever so slightly past the elastic of his boxers before continuing their journey. Dean can feel himself straining against the denim of his bleach-washed jeans, achingly hard and begging for any sort of reprieve; Benny, thankfully possessing the ability to seemingly read minds, takes mercy on him and splays his palm on the prominent bulge it finds, removing his hand from the wall to deftly undo Dean’s buckle and unzip his fly.

Once his underwear is tugged down and out of the way, exposing his flushed skin to the otherwise chilly night air, Benny wraps his gloved hand around his cock, stroking and twisting, pressing his thumb against the tightly stretched frenulum under his head, chuckling deeply as Dean’s hips stutter and buck further into his touch.

Benny strokes a little faster, swallowing Dean’s moans with deeper and deeper kisses, whispering all sorts of dirty things into his ear in that carefree drawl of his. His thumb swipes over the head once again, smearing pearly drops of pre-come over his erection, the sounds slick and obscene and downright filthy. It’s not long before Dean is coming with a choked off groan, spilling hot and sticky all over Benny’s hands and fingers. He nearly collapses, Benny’s arms steadying him as his limbs decide to take a last minute vacation without informing the boss.

“Fuck.” Dean voices, almost embarrassed at how wrecked and hoarse his voice sounded.

“Mm.” Benny licks at the sticky white fluid coating his gloves, making hot and heady eye contact the entire time. Dean’s already-spent cock gives a half hearted throb at the sight, but he doesn’t think he could go a second round even if his legs weren’t currently made of jelly.

After tucking his soiled gloves into the pockets of his wool duster coat, Benny leans against the same wall Dean was currently using as a support beam to light up another cigarette, relaxed and nonchalant in a way that would’ve been infuriating if it wasn’t so damn attractive; it only made Dean wanna work twice as hard to get him worked up in the future.

“Need a ride home?” He asks, keeping his eyes trained on the inky black darkness above as he hands the cigarette over.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.” Dean nods, accepting the offered vice and taking a deep drag of it himself. Tonight had certainly been one for the books.

—

Dean’s head is buried in his pillows when a heavy weight suddenly throws itself on his bed, jostling his body weight and forcing him to open his eyes to scowl at whatever had just disrupted his sleep. A floppy haired boy of sixteen glares down at him, bangs falling into his eyes and yet somehow he’s still able to pull off the pissed-off-parent look.

“Whatddya want, Sam?” Dean groans, squinting against the bright light filtering into their shared bedroom.

“Charlie said you ditched her; she saw you walking off with some punk, and she also said she didn’t see you return. Were you doing drugs? Was he your dealer?”

Dean groans again, grabbing a pillow and draping it over his head. “Since when did you become Dad?”

“Since you started sneaking off with blonde punks to do drugs.”

“I wasn’t doing drugs, idiot.” Dean tries and fails to aim a kick at Sam’s shins, which only causes him to move his aching muscles more than they clearly wanted or were capable of. “Just go away. I’m fine.”

Sam hmphs but ultimately decides to leave it be, for once, bouncing off of Dean’s bed with the sound of his footsteps departing for the door following soon after. “Dad made breakfast. You should get up.”

Dean’s hand grazes over the mark on his neck after Sam leaves, fingers hovering over raised and jagged skin.

Killer hangover aside, being with Benny was the most fun he had in weeks; if he was planning on seeing the beautiful boy again, and soon, no one else had to know.

@lesbianboyfriend @bsideheart @tboykrillin @lesbianjudasiscariot @pikslasrce @girlv1rgin @transchesters @switchkick

[therulerofallpotatos]

If Dean and Benny were allowed to be openly queer we could've had so much of Sam making fun of Dean for falling in love with a vampire which would've been 100x more fun than Sam suddenly being vamp phobic

[cannibalizecastiel]

WHETHER YOU COME AS A LOVER OR AN EXECUTIONER I AM READY TO RECEIVE YOU.

dean & benny // international small arms traffic blues

[inalandofsadclowns]

Benny: You're in his dms, I'm in his left arm, running through his veins. We are not the same.

Cas: You're in his dms, I'm the god in his prayers. We are not the same.

Dean: Alright. Okay. Stop measuring dicks.

[anyreiart]

Tiny Miracles

Summary:

Dean Winchester is fed up after losing one of his beloved socks in the washing machine. He prays the other will come back and for some reason… it works. Or: Kid angels are responsible for granting small miracles. Cas and Inias are chosen to make Dean Winchester’s life a little easier. (if you read this anywhere other than ao3, this was stolen)

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53013859

Pairings: Castiel/Inias, Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester

Written by @anyreiart, banner by @zissilein

------------------------------------------

This is a Happy Birthday fic for my lovely friend @eyesofatragedy67

[dragon1d]

Obsessed with how Sam tells Bobby that Benny is a buddy of Dean's and Benny goes "a GOOD buddy 😏"