Tender Love

Summary: Dean realizes just how much he loves the reader and knows that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her. 

Word Count: 2,432

Warnings: Smut. Oral Sex. Unprotected Sex. 

A/N: This is a fic for Galentine’s Day! This fic is for the lovely Liz! @ohfora67impala I hope you enjoy it, dear! @latinenglishfandomblog @abaddonwithyall

Originally posted by ebru-p

To Dean, you were like fire. At times you were calm, a steady flame that offered warmth and comfort. But when he and you were alone, he yearned for the moments in which you reminded him of a raging forest fire, uncontrollable and burning everything in your path to get what you wanted. Your fingers would grapple for him, dig into the depths of him and you wouldn’t stop until you had satiated yourself of him.

Dean lived for the look in your eyes, the raw hunger that overtook them when he drove deep inside you and you’d dig your nails into his skin. It drove him over the edge to know that it was he who could make you come undone like that. His hips would become rougher in their thrusts and you’d wrap yourself around him in such a way that Dean knew you were as close as you possibly could be.

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Danse shifted on his feet, frowning down at the pressed suit he wore. It was clean and free of patches, perfectly preserved from before the war. He picked at the bow tie. He felt like the strip of cloth was trying to strangle him. 

“Where did you obtain this again?” he asked.

“I paid for it,” MacCready said, swatting away Danse’s hand when he tried to readjust the bow tie for the fifth time. 

“Paid for it? With what?” 

“With my good looks and charm, obviously.” MacCready rolled his eyes. He picked up the boutonniere they’d prepared, taking a nail Danse had filed down to a fraction of its size and pinned the flower in place. Not a real flower, of course, but Danse had managed to find a matching set of roses in a department store a few weeks back. Combined with some leaves, it didn’t look half bad—not according to Piper, at any rate. 

“This was a bad idea,” Danse said. “It’s foolish and silly and Madelyn won’t—”

“She’s going to love this, and you know it,” Deacon said while he walked in a circle around Danse. “I thought you’d already worked that Brotherhood stick out of your ass, Danse. What’s with all the pouting now?” 

“I am not ‘pouting.’”Danse glared at the Synth who simply smiled in return. 

This was different from the last time they’d danced. His suit had been worn and frayed, a stark contrast to the fresh blue of her dress. She hadn’t seemed to mind the difference, but he did. Ripped from everything she’d ever known, thrown into this chaotic wasteland—she deserved something familiar. Something nice. Nicer than plastic petals pinned in place with half-rusted nails. Nicer than him. 

“All right,” MacCready said, stuffing the matching corsage into Danse’s hand before pushing him towards the door. “Go get her!” 

“I—wait! This isn’t—Madelyn!” Danse stopped short when he saw Madelyn standing outside. Lights had been set around Sanctuary, casting her in a soft glow that made her eyes shine and his knees go weak. 

“Are you okay?” 

He straightened instantly. “Yes. I’m—I’m fine. Thank you.” He ran his thumb along one of the corsage leaves before holding it out to her. She smiled when he put it on her wrist and her arm wrapped naturally around his when he started to pull away. 

“It’s lovely.” Her hand squeezed his arm lightly, eyes running down the length of him with an appreciative sigh. 

“As are you.” He placed his hand on hers, fiercely ignoring the snickering from the other men as they walked to where Nick and Piper and the others were playing music. He held her close to him, enjoying the warmth of her, the way she looked at him. Sneaking a kiss to her cheek, his other hand slipped into his pocket where the ring he’d made for her felt cool and smooth against his skin. 



His mouth went dry, and he wondered if he’d have the courage to ask her tonight. Perhaps later, when it was just the two of them, the lights dimmed so only the moonlight would be there to see them. “Will you dance with me?” 

Madelyn grinned, arms going up around him. “Don’t I always?” 

[It had been the most hellacious day of her life, and Rowen had experienced plenty in her time. None had topped the day she tried to take William, until now. She should have expected this – maybe on some level, she had. But naively, Rowen had believed she could stop it all before it even started. She’d begged the leader of their clan to reconsider. Begged him to let her find someone else for reasons she couldn’t bear to tell him. How could she tell her leader and mentor that she’d fallen in love with her target? A girl meant for sacrifice, with a baby whose innocent blood would please the blood wood beast. It couldn’t be Emmeline. She was too sweet, too good for this. But nothing she said could convince her people to change their minds, and Rowen was flooded with regret that she’d ever even put Emmeline on their radar. She’d fought tooth and nail against the two men assigned to help her retrieve Emmeline from the castle. She turned her back on her people in favor of the love in her heart, and it ended with a bloody and beaten Rowen strapped to a tree in their village. She couldn’t stop them now. The girl cried through the night, cried herself into exhaustion until she was nothing but a limp, quivering thing against the ropes that restrained her. It wasn’t until morning that someone – Peter – finally cut her loose. It was done. Emmeline was here, secured in a tent at the edge of the village where they would wait for her to give birth. Two innocent lives instead of one – that was what she had promised when she’d failed with William. Rowen tumbled over herself in her haste, weak and starving and desperate. She barely managed to mumble a thank you to her old friend before she was darting through the village and into the tent she knew to be meant for their prisoner. And there she was, unconscious, wrists strapped to a thick log that would keep her from escaping. Rowen’s lip trembled as she sunk to her knees beside Emmeline, tears slipping from the corners of her eyes. And all too soon, the girl was waking, understandably confused. Rowen didn’t even know what to say. What could she say? Nothing would fix this. Nothing would justify what she had done…] I’m so sorry, Emmeline…

I feel really embarrassed about sending this, actually. But I wanted to do something to let you know that you have uplifted me and given me DETERMINATION to continue drawing, among various other things. I hope this little doodle is adequate to help express my appreciation towards you and your beautiful art. (I also hope that even remotely looks like you- I tried to match your drawings)

Submitted by: rexidot

Oh my goodness, you shouldn’t be embarrassed! This looks SO good and it just made my day, I actually saw this before I went to bed last night and I internally screamed because it’s so niice hhhh. 

I’m also glad that you gained the DETERMINATION to continue drawing. No one should be discouraged, like ever. Art is a gift everyone and it should be nurtured and not pushed away, unless it’s the person’s decision to pursue something else (it’s their choice after all). And seeing another person as they pour their devotion into art, such as yourself, just makes me feel good, because not that many people do that nowadays due to stressful events in life, and it’s nice to see something different for a change.

I hope this message makes you feel good as well. This “little doodle” that you gave me is more than enough to express your gratitude. I wish all the best for you, friend.