For your 2500 followers (congrats BTW!) could I request Dean and #46?
46. Well that’s an image I’m not likely to forget any time soon.
The bunker door made a solid metallic thud when it closed behind him. He hadn’t planned on going out that night, but the minute he heard you were in town, he knew he had to go see you.
There was nothing Dean regretted in his life more than letting you walk away. He’d gone to see you nearly every weekend for the better part of a year. As long as he was in town, he would find a way to show up at your doorstep. Then Amara had happened. The Darkness had taken a hold of him. Fearing for your life, he’d cut you out of his own before the latest big bad could rip you from it.
Dean sat grabbed a bottle of whiskey and poured himself a glass. He took a seat at the map table and let the strong amber liquid burn it’s way down his throat.
He shook his head when he thought about what you had looked like in those first few moments after he’d entered the club. He’d watched you from afar as you schmoozed and flirted with the clientele. When your eyes met his across the room, a slow sweet smile had spread across your face that had nearly taken his breath away.
He’d met up with you after your shift and had fallen back into old habits as if you’d never spent any time apart. You’d spent the night in a tangle of sweaty limbs and sensual moans that left you both gasping for breath.
He’d stopped to give you one final kiss before he left. Just before his lips made contact with your shoulder, a dark mark across your low back caught his attention. He pushed the sheet aside to find his name, birth date, and the phrase “more than worth it” written underneath.
He shook his head at the thought. “Well,” he told himself, “that’s not an image I’m likely to forget anytime soon.”
He quickly downed the rest of his liquor and made his way towards his room, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do now.
2500 Followers Celebration