Truth or Dare

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"She does, doesn't she?" Dean mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "Well, she was wearing it. I suppose when the private investigator came back, they assumed you and I were together and thought it was a special occasion."

"Yeah, she does have a habit of trying to show off," I remarked, a hint of amusement tingeing my voice.

"Truth or dare?" Dean interjected, steering the conversation in a new direction.

"Truth," I decided, bracing myself for his next question.

"How did it feel?" Dean's voice lowered as he moved closer, standing over me. "When I was deep inside of you?"

"Like heaven and hell," I confessed, earning a brighter smile from him as he pressed his forehead against mine.

"Truth or dare?" I countered, shifting the focus back to him.

"Truth," he replied, his eyes clouded with lust.

"Would you have destroyed my parents' phone number if I won hide and seek?" I asked, curious to gauge his response.

"No, I would never have let you go. Only a fool would let someone like you slip away, and my mom didn't raise a fool," he affirmed, his gaze unwavering. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare," I accepted without hesitation, eager for the challenge.

"I dare you to tell me you would never leave me," Dean proposed, his tone tinged with vulnerability.

"I will never leave you, baby," I promised, the words slipping effortlessly from my lips.

"Say it again," he requested softly.

"I will never leave you, baby," I repeated, and without warning, he captured my lips in a sudden kiss, sealing our unspoken vow with a tender embrace.

In the midst of our passionate kiss, Dean's grip tightened on the sides of my face, his touch demanding and intense. But just as the heat between us began to escalate, the door suddenly swung open, shattering the intimate moment.

Dean abruptly pulled away, his features contorting into a mask of pure fury as he turned towards the intruder. His jaw clenched with such force that I could see the muscles flexing beneath his skin, and his eyes blazed with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine.

"What did I say about bothering me?" he growled, his voice low and menacing, each word laced with a barely contained rage. His hands balled into fists, trembling with the effort to restrain the fury coursing through him.

The room fell into a tense silence, the air thick with the palpable weight of Dean's wrath. I glanced towards the doorway to see a man who had turned pale at the sight of Dean's unbridled rage, his eyes wide with fear.

Sensing the danger in the air, I met his gaze and silently mouthed, "Close the door and run," knowing that it was the only sensible course of action in the face of Dean's simmering fury.

Fortunately, he noticed me and swiftly complied. "Dean?" I called out, reaching for him and pulling him back down beside me.

"I'm sorry, my dear. It's just... annoying," he grumbled, frustration evident in his voice.

"I understand," I replied sympathetically, offering him a reassuring smile.

He enveloped me in a comforting hug for a moment before suggesting, "Do you want to go back to the party?"

"Nah, I'm good here," I answered, nestling closer to him.

"My sweetheart," he murmured softly, his arms still wrapped around me.

We remained in silence for a few more minutes, finding solace in each other's embrace. However, the tranquility was soon disrupted by the distant sounds of commotion, growing louder with each passing moment.

"Shh, shh, it's nothing, just some drunken nonsense," Dean reassured me in a hushed tone, though I could sense his patience wearing thin as the noise persisted.

But the clamor continued to escalate, until suddenly, Dean abruptly pulled away from me. "I'll just be a moment," he said, his tone tense. "Don't move."

With determination in his stride, he swiftly turned around and exited the shed. I remained frozen in place, unable to follow him but acutely aware of the tension mounting outside.

The cacophony hushed the moment he stepped outdoors, followed by a sharp bang that echoed through the air, sending a chill down my spine.

"I warned you once, there won't be a second time," Dean's voice sliced through the tension, sending a chill down my spine. I listened intently as the sound of repeated thuds echoed in the distance.

It wasn't gunfire; it was the dull impact of something hitting against an object.

"Clean it up, or else this party turns into a funeral with a closed casket," Dean's ominous warning hung in the air like a heavy cloud.

With a steely determination, he swung the door open, his eyes ablaze with rage. I couldn't help but notice the crimson stains coating his hands and arms, evidence of the violence that had unfolded beyond our sheltered haven.

"We're sleeping here tonight," he declared with a grim finality.

I nodded in silent agreement, too shaken to argue with his decision. As the gravity of the situation sank in, I braced myself for the long night ahead, praying that we would emerge unscathed from the storm brewing outside.

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