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aylacavebear · 3 days ago

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Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 30

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 4319

Warnings: Dean being Dean, navigating being an empath, suggestive thoughts, longing, Fluff, Premonition, Bonding (This is something specifically for this AU. I do not see this as a "requirement" to fully connect to someone, but for this story, it is needed).

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 30

The following day, he woke before you, lying there just watching you sleep. He knew today would be filled with a lot, and right now, you needed your rest, and he needed this moment. There was nothing to worry about in the now. Right now, nothing troubled him, and you hadn’t had another nightmare. Dean allowed himself to lie there with you for nearly ten minutes before finally dragging himself away and to the kitchen. As soon as he had the coffee brewing, he began making phone calls, informing everyone of what Pamela had said. However, when he called Bobby, he gave him a piece of his mind for how things had gone.

“I’m sorry, Dean. It wasn’t like I knew that stuff would come up,” Bobby apologized for the third time, partially regretting having made the suggestion.

Dean sighed, running a hand down his face as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “I know. You didn’t see her, though. She was distant on the entire drive back here and I couldn’t feel any of her emotions through the connection.” Bobby leaned back in his seat, staring at the closed door of his office. “Is there anything I can do on my end for the two of you?”

Dean thought for a moment, “Yeah. Can you tell the boys they can throw me that surprise party the weekend after we can get out of here?”

That made Bobby chuckle. “How’d you find out about that?”

“Jack let it slip. That kid is still pretty innocent in some ways,” Dean replied, remembering back to that second month he was back when Jack had let just enough slip out about the surprise party.

“Yeah, I’ll let ‘em know,” Bobby replied, trying to push aside the growing concern that had come with Dean’s call. “Call if you need anything. We’re all here, for both of you.”

“Thanks. That means a lot to me,” Dean replied, utterly grateful for the support system in the outside world.

Dean poured himself another cup of coffee after he hung up. He’d already called Sam; that had been his first phone call, Bobby his last, and all the adults in between. “It’s gonna be a long day,” he mumbled through a sigh.

Stretching with your arms over your head, you let out a long yawn, the morning finally pulling you from a dreamless slumber. When your arm plopped in the spot Dean should have been, you looked over, a little confused. I didn’t sleep that late, did I?

Glancing at the clock, you chuckled to yourself. Almost nine, of course he’s already up. With a smile on your face, you climbed out of bed and headed into the kitchen. He was there, leaning against the counter, lost in thought. You smiled to yourself, knowing he hadn’t even noticed you yet. “Morning, handsome,” you cooed, stopping next to him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Dean practically jumped out of his skin at your presence, his hand over his racing heart as he attempted to catch his breath. “Jesus, Sweetheart. You damn near gave me a heart attack,” he breathed out, wondering how you’d managed to sneak up on him.

GIggling, you poured yourself a cup of coffee, then sat down at the table so you could see him. Dean smirked. Oh, someone’s in a playful mood this morning. His whispered words in your mind made you giddy. You were in a playful mood, even though you knew that today was when you were going to share with him what Pamela had told you.

“Maybe,” you replied, drawing the word out, looking down at your coffee as a smile played with your lips. For a moment, you debated dashing to the living room, eyeing the couch briefly.

He set his cup down, enjoying the moment, and wondered just how playful you were feeling. Dean smirked mischievously as he pushed off the counter, slowly strolling toward you. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you giggled quietly, unable to take a sip of your coffee. The anticipation of what he might do twisted nicely in your stomach.

“What’s the matter, nervous?” he teased, his tone going a little lower, making you take a shaky breath.

When he was only a couple of feet away and began taking another step, you squealed as he reached for you, then darted into the living room, laughter ensuing as he chased you. You dashed behind the couch, giving Dean an idea. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he was going to get a hold of you. The way your laughter mixed with his and filled the room was like a beautiful symphony.

You slowly moved in the opposite direction he went, matching his pace until you were the one now in front of the couch, the coffee table directly behind you. In one swift motion, Dean not only went over the couch but also grabbed the front of your shirt firmly before falling back into the cushions. The squeal you let out as he pulled you onto his lap had him laughing with more amusement than he could contain.

Dean wrapped his arms around your back, holding you firmly in place, unable to escape. You were laughing so hard that all you could do was rest your hands on his shoulders. The moment froze for Dean, feeling that pang of love that overflowed, threatening to slip from his eyes, but he held it back. As your laughter slowly subsided, you rested your head on his shoulder, evening out your breathing again. “That was fun,” you told him through light chuckles, remembering the way he had eyed you, your breath warm against his neck.

“Yeah, it was,” he sighed contently, rubbing your back with one hand while holding you close with the other. “I love hearing your laughter.”

You debated between telling him everything Pamela had said or just giving him what you had initially planned on saving for his birthday. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be intimate with him, something about it just scared you.

Don’t go getting lost in your head again. The way his words whispered through your mind made you chuckle, sitting up so you could look at him. “And what if I like getting lost in my thoughts, huh?” you asked playfully, not quite ready to let go of the joy the playfulness brought.

He raised an eyebrow, but you saw that glint in his eyes, knowing he was already plotting something as his grip around you slowly tightened. Dean just didn’t want you to get away just yet. “What’s more interesting than you straddling my lap?” he asked as the smirk on his lips began forming.

You leaned a little closer, being just as playful, “Thoughts of you.”

Woman, I swear… A low groan, almost inaudible, rumbled in his chest as one of his hands came up and tangled in your hair behind your neck, holding your head. It was a gentle gesture, but sent a shiver down your entire body. “Sweetheart, do you have any,” he gently gripped your hip, pulling you down against him as he lightly bucked his hips up, grinding against you, “idea what you do to me?”

You hadn’t even realized just how turned on he was until you felt the bulge in his pants rub against your core through your clothes, making you bite your lip. “I didn’t mean to, really,” you told him honestly, and a little shyly. It wasn’t like you were completely ignorant. You just hadn’t done anything with anyone, so you weren’t entirely sure of the things that turned men on, let alone Dean.

Dean gave you a soft smile. He knew you hadn’t intended to turn him on. “I know. It’s why I didn’t just kiss you. I know you aren’t ready. I don’t know why, and you don’t have to explain it to me. I’ll be here, when you’re ready.” Then he leaned closer, leaving a tender kiss on your lips, staying there only a few moments before he pulled away, fighting every urge coursing through his body.

The pout that found your lips at least made him chuckle, but you still felt bad and figured now was as good a time as any to talk to him. Carefully, you climbed off his lap, sitting on the couch next to him, cross-legged and facing him.

After adjusting himself, he turned a bit so that he was facing you, although he wasn’t entirely sure what topic you wanted to talk about. He was trying not to think about kissing you, touching you, and loving you, which was nearly impossible after he’d pulled you down onto his lap. That one he took full responsibility for.

You took one more deep breath, letting it out slowly. It was bad enough that your thoughts were on Dean rather than the topic you wanted to broach, but having his desire mix with your own was making it that much more difficult.

“Okay, so yesterday. Pamela told me a lot, and there are still some things I’m not sure about, but I promised I’d tell you.” It seemed like a decent place to start. “She said that the reason you got sick was because my fear went through the connection we have.” Dean looked at you, a little puzzled, “But, you’ve been afraid before, and it never hit me like that.” he tried to explain, as he was still confused about why it had hit him so hard.

Looking down at your hands, you attempted to remember how Pamela had explained it to you. You pursed your lips as you met his gaze, hoping you didn’t botch it too badly. “She said that hope is your strongest emotion. Well, mine apparently has been fear. It’s what’s been basically running my life. When she mentioned me being afraid to lose you,” your voice got quiet as your gaze fell to the space between the two of you.

“It just sort of hit me, but for me, it was a knot in my stomach. I’ve just been so afraid for so long… I’m not sure how to just take a leap of faith, like she suggested,” by this point, you were almost whispering, and Dean only wanted to pull you into his arms again. He vaguely remembered that part of what Pamela had said, sort of, since he had to bolt to the bathroom before he was sick in the living room.

“I’m afraid I’ll lose you… if we’re closer,” you finally admitted in a barely audible whisper, and now Dean wasn’t going to hold back. He moved closer and pulled you into his arms, shifting you so that you were sitting sideways on his legs. As your emotions crashed into his, he just focused on you, soothing the storm that had taken hold. It was the missing piece for him, so he could understand what kept holding you back. “Looks like we were both trying to figure out a puzzle,” he murmured softly, tears slipping down your cheeks.

“Those monsters took everything from me. I can’t lose you too,” you sobbed out quietly, feeling like the damn inside had finally broken. You didn’t understand that you needed this in order to finish healing, letting him in deeper than you had let anyone.

For nearly an hour, he held you, uttering soft, soothing words and doing his best to comfort you. He probably wouldn’t have admitted it to anyone, but the pain that came through the connection felt like a vice on his chest. Dean did his best to take slow, deep breaths so your pain didn’t consume him, but a few tears slipped down his cheeks, landing in your hair. He knew that losing your soulmate was one of the most painful things possible, but he hadn’t realized just how much the mere thought of it affected you. Not until now. You were terrified to let someone in that much just to have it ripped away.

“I’ve got you, I always will,” he whispered when your sobs finally subsided. “And I’m not going anywhere, not if I have a say in the matter.” The only hope he had that things would be okay, was because of the words Pamela had said to him. The two of you only had to stay in the bunker for the next week and a half, no matter what.

You wanted to apologize but knew it would frustrate him, so you did your best not to even think the words. “I didn’t mean to break down like that,” you mumbled before sitting up a little.

He met your gaze, seeing how puffy your eyes were from crying. With a soft smile, he gently wiped the lingering tears away. “Crying isn’t a bad thing. Sometimes it helps. Like, how they say you have to hit rock bottom before things get better,” he offered, trying to help.

“I just want it all to stop, to go away,” you pouted, focusing on your hands in your lap as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

Dean debated for a moment, focusing on what you were feeling. There were a few different things he could say, but now was not the time to let the playful remarks slip out. He gently nudged your chin with his finger and thumb, so you met his gaze, trying not to let another tear slip out.

“Things will be okay. Why don’t we just take this week and a half and just relax? I know that you’ll have to call Crowley, and we’ll be down here past my birthday. But hey, think of this time as a little vacation from the world. It’s different now,” he tried to soothe you, giving you that soft smile that brought a small one to your lips.

He knew the kind of grip your fear had on you; hell, it wanted to consume him. Gently pulling you against his chest, he let out a sigh, trying to find the right words, but he was pretty sure nothing he could say would help you right now. So, he just held you close, gently rubbing small circles on your upper arm with his thumb.

“I don’t know how not to be afraid,” you eventually mumbled. The nightmare you’d had the night before felt like parts of it were playing on repeat in your head, along with what Pamela had said. You just weren’t sure what the consistent was, so you weren’t sure what part of it would happen.

“Why don’t we just take it one day at a time?” he suggested softly.

You moved a little so you could look into his eyes. The sincerity and hope there made you smile a little. I just want to see you smile. The whispered words made your smile grow, your fears and worries slowly slipping away as you let his hope, love, and compassion wash through the connection. It was like the gentle waves as they lapped over the sands of a beach.

“Now, I’m gonna go make us breakfast. You wanna change or just lounge in pajamas all day?” he asked, feeling that soft contentment as you relaxed.

Deciding to focus on not being stressed over things you had no control over, you chose playfulness, tapping your chin with your finger, pretending to think. “Hmm…” you hummed, pausing playfully. “Pajamas, because I’m pretty sure you’ll tease me,” your words came out a little sassy, pulling a playful smirk to his lips.

Again, he was fighting with his thoughts. God, it’s gonna be a long week. The thought made you almost laugh, knowing you weren’t going to make him wait that long. He let his fingers find your ribs, gripping them in just the right way, tickling you. With a squeal, you attempted to get off his lap, but he held you in place.

He hadn’t moved his hand, but the anticipation that kept building was what was driving you absolutely crazy. However, when he leaned in close with that look in his eyes, a shiver went down your spine. “You know, anticipation works on other things, too,” his voice was low, rough, tinged with that teasing that made the butterflies dance in your stomach.

Taking a shaky breath, attempting to focus on anything other than what he was hinting at or the fact that his hand was still holding your ribs. All he had to do was grip, and he could tickle you again. “Thought you were gonna make breakfast,” you told him quickly, unable to hide the joy that was coursing through you at how he had lightened the mood.

The laughter started deep in his chest before filling the room, “Yeah, breakfast.” Not when I’ve got you right where I want you. He couldn’t help himself, though, gripping your ribs enough to make you squeal and try to get away from him. The sound brought that joy to his soul, soothing any stress left in him.

“Stop!” you yelled playfully, squirming in his lap as he held you there. His other hand found the crook in your hip, squeezing down and making you scream at how ticklish you were there.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you long. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt your wrists, and you were trying to stop him, even knowing it was impossible. The man was far stronger than you. Plus, the way you squirmed on his lap was causing another issue to arise. He snaked his arms around your waist, the two of you attempting to catch your breath for different reasons.

“Alright, Sweetheart. I’ll go get breakfast going,” he told you, trying to calm his racing heart. He gave you a quick kiss on your cheek before scooping you up and gently setting you on the couch after he stood. I love you, your whispered words in his mind bringing a wider smile to his lips, trying to push away thoughts he couldn’t act on, not yet anyway.

And that was about how the next several days went. There were board games, watching movies, tickle fests, which you even got him a few good times, and a couple games of pool. The playful banter that went back and forth had you both wound as the sexual tension grew between you. He never pushed anything too much, but he did give it an encouraging nudge. Dean would hold you when you did the dishes, so you would return that when he would cook.

The two of you settled into a comfortable routine. So far, the nightmare hadn’t come back, and the monitors also hadn’t gone off unless it was an animal going about its business. Your fears were slowly slipping away. Being close to him was getting easier the more he bantered with you. So much so that three days before his birthday, when he kissed you after your evening movie, you didn’t pull away after a few moments. You had wanted so badly just to let go of all your fears at that moment, but you couldn’t, even with your body humming from how he touched you. The moment you went to apologize, he gently pressed his finger over your lips and shook his head.

“I told you, I can wait till you’re ready,” he told you in a soft, sincere whisper. His breathing was heavy, but he meant it; he’d truly wait till you were ready. For now, he’d have his fantasies and enjoy the feeling of your desire as it danced with his own. “How about you go crawl in bed? I’ll be there in a bit,” he added, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to sleep unless he took care of himself.

A blush crept into your cheeks as you bit your bottom lip. I wish I could just let go. It was the one thought that kept going through your head like a repeat record player. Dean gave you that half smile before leaving a tender kiss on your forehead. Don’t make me carry you. His teasingly playful threat made you chuckle. “Alright, I’m going.” You left a soft kiss on his cheek before going to your room, mostly closing it so he had more privacy.

The tip Pamela had given you, about picturing a bubble around you, was something you had been practicing. So, as you climbed into bed, you pictured that bubble again, needing to have some time so your body could cool down from the fire he always ignited. Lying on your back, staring at the ceiling, you slowed your breathing, picturing a bubble around you. It was an odd sensation after feeling Dean’s emotions for nearly a week now. The connection was still there, and you could feel the thread, but the emotions that passed through it diminished. As you were focusing on how different it felt, Dean gently pushed the door open, a little apprehensive.

“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asked, pulling you from your concentration, effectively popping the bubble. “What was that?”

You watched him as he crawled into the bed next to you, rolling onto your side. “I was practicing that bubble thing. I probably should warn you so you don’t get so concerned,” you replied sincerely, giving him the soft smile that helped the tension ease from his shoulders.

Dean pulled you closer, the physical contact bringing the relief he needed after feeling the connection diminishing. “Yeah, a heads up will help,” he sighed out, focusing on the way you felt in his arms and the way your emotions danced with his again.

“I can remember,” you told him softly, kissing his cheek tenderly before getting fully comfortable tucked against him. “Get some sleep,” you murmured sleepily.

It took him a few minutes to completely relax again. One minute, he had felt your emotions dancing with his, the desire mingling, and then there was almost nothing. For a moment, he thought something had happened, even being in the bunker. I’ll be thankful when we don’t have to worry anymore. He wasn’t sure how far into sleep you had drifted, but the peace that washed over him like a warm blanket began pulling him off to the dreamworld as well. A quiet hum slipped out as you drifted off to sleep.

You had no idea where you were. It was a town, and it was nighttime. There were a few street lights that cast an eerie yellow glow along the deserted street. What the hell? Looking around, the town seemed deserted. Cautiously, you headed toward the only place that looked open, a gas station several blocks away. There were no sounds like you would typically hear at night, like crickets or owls. Goosebumps prickled along your skin as you rubbed your arms, trying to get them to go away. The closer to the gas station you got, the more a knot began twisting in your gut. Something wasn’t right, but you couldn’t put your finger on what it was. The night air was warm against the chill that settled down your spine when you crossed the street. There wasn’t a single car in the parking lot or at any of the four pumps. Your heart pounded as your breathing became shallow and shaky. Swallowing hard, you made your way to the front of the gas station, only close enough to look inside. There was one person inside, a guy behind the counter that you’d never seen before. Other than that, the place looked empty. Oddly enough, that seemed to steady your nerves, letting out a sigh. You turned and looked back down the way you’d come, then further in the direction past the gas station. Where am I? You stood outside, debating going in and talking to the cashier or just heading in the direction you were drawn to, past the gas station. Slipping your hands into the pockets of your jeans, you headed further down the deserted street. The further away you got from the gas station, the more surreal everything felt. A few blocks later, you noticed a motel across the street, Dean’s Impala, parked in front of one of the rooms. Quizically, you tilted your head a bit. Now utterly confused, you made your way across the parking lot to the room, taking note of the number seven on the door. First, you tried the doorknob, but it was locked. Then, you felt around your pockets, noticing something in one of the back ones you hadn’t felt earlier. Slowly, you pulled out the item, taking a shaky breath, seeing it was a key to the door. Your stomach began knotting up, like something was horribly wrong. Slowly, you unlocked the door but looked over your shoulder, feeling like you were being watched. Dean’s car was gone, replaced by something else. This one was a new model Jeep that you didn’t recognize. As your brows furrowed in confusion, the door was pulled open from the inside. Just as you were attempting to regain your balance and see who had opened the door, someone grabbed you, dragging you into the room. They weren’t gentle about it either. You even attempted to fight against their hold. Whoever it was, it wasn’t Dean, but it was a guy, and he was far stronger than you. “Now, you’re mine,” his voice was low, pleased, but with a cruel undertone. “First, you’ll be bait. I need to sever that connection.”

Your scream reverberated off the walls of the bedroom, echoing through the bunker as you bolted upright in bed. Unable to take a deep breath, you clung to the blankets as Dean’s arms wrapped around you. “Shhh.. Sweetheart,” he began softly, images flashing through his mind. “I’ve got you. It was a nightmare.” However, you both knew the truth. It wasn’t a nightmare. It was a premonition.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 31

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